Butterfly in the Sky

Take a look! It's in a book!

I read books to Olivia every day. Olivia reads books to Olivia every day. Olivia quite often tries to read a book to Lucy or one of her stuffed animals every day. Or at least to show them the pictures.


And while I am getting extremely sick of "One Fish, Two Fish," and a few others, I do my best to read them in an enchanting fashion. I usually ask myself, "How would LeVar read it?" He definitely would not use a monotone style. (I was very surprised a few months ago when I overheard JB reading this way to Olivia. JB, king of sound effects and silly faces and voices! Perhaps he was just tired. Or perhaps he wanted to make One Fish, Two Fish so dreadfully boring to Olivia that she would never request it again--which unfortunately didn't work.)

Today was my turn to read scripture at church. The text was Daniel 6: Daniel in the Lion's Den!!! One of my favorite stories. Apparently I got a little caught up in the tale, because when I sat down after I read, JB leaned over to me and whispered,

"I can tell you've been reading a lot of stories to Olivia. You used a lot of inflection in your reading."

It takes a lot to embarrass me. I have had several snafus while doing the Scripture reading. Like discovering afterward that my fly was open the whole time. Or walking up and trying to read at the wrong pulpit while the worship leader is whispering loudly at me to move, which everyone else hears and understands, but me. Or walking up and almost starting to read (because the order of service said that I was next) only to be told to sit down again because there was some added thing that I didn't know about that had to happen first.

These things did not embarrass me.

But "children's story hour" left me feeling a little mortified. I never wanted to be one of those Moms who got stuck in kid mode when trying to interact with adults. Yet here I am.

Oh well.

Too bad LeVar wasn't there. He would have understood.

Weekend Update

In a galaxy long ago and far away,

my husband promised that JBandMe would be a JOINT blog. That he wasn't just luring me to join his blog because I was a more faithful poster.

I think he posts like once or twice a year.

And I can't always post, as evidenced recently by our faithful readers.
So I apologize for the long absence, but really, if you have a bone to pick over this, call my husband.

He wasn't the one living in agony for the past 3 months because of a foreign organism growing within me.

No. It isn't cancer.

But he sure is being mean like cancer.

Most of you already know this, but for the 1 or 2 who do not, I'm pregnant again.

Yes. Again. The first pregnancy with my daughter about killed me (but not in any sort of interesting or noteworthy way--just boring old pregnancy crap), and yet I still agreed to go through it again. And we both want more than two kids. Adoption is looking pretty good to me right about now...

This week starts the middle 3 months of the pregnancy, which was my grace period the first time around. A time when life is relatively unhindered by being pregnant. So I may post a little more on this. But no guarantees. Unemployment runs out in October and I've got a job to find!

There's work to be done! Quilting to do! A baby to grow! A girl who's turning 2!

Where did that come from?

It's funny how children sudden have full blown personalities and conversational skill. Maybe not funny, more startling than funny. Case in point...

This Sunday morning April had a migraine on top of pregnancy sickness and something I had eaten was reeking havoc on my digestive track. Result? No church for us.

*Friends/family without children, you have no idea what a luxury it is to be able to rest and recuperate from an illness without a (nearly) two year old, bouncing up on down and demanding one's attention. You never know how good you it is until it's gone...*

April took the lion's share of child duties this morning and on my turn O continued to demand April's presence making it nearly impossible for her to rest.

In a last ditch effort I asked, "Do you want to watch a show?"

"No thanks. -pause-I can watch show. I guess."

I swear she wasn't expressing herself like this a week ago. Hard to believe she'll be two in a month...

Oh, NO! Wha HAPPENED??

Tea Party

I was "checking my websites" right before Olivia's naptime. Usually I cannot get online during her waking moments, as she wants me to play YoGabbaGabba videos for her on youtube or something or other. 

So I was grateful but curious about whatever was occupying her so much that she'd let me go online. 

I kept hearing little feet running back and forth behind me. 

Little feet padding closer and CLOSER...silently standing behind me for a few seconds...and then little feet going farther and farther...silence...steps coming closer and CLOSER...

When I looked I saw that she had brought her entire tea set into the office, piece by piece, and set it on the floor for a Tea Party. She also brought Eeyore and her dolly Pipi to join in the fun. 

I forget that she always does that. Wherever I am, she hurries to bring in her toys so that we can play together. Oh, here she comes with Alphabet Caterpillar, her third guest of the tea party.

Guess I should go have that delicious cup of invisible tea now...

Polkadot Sparrow is FOR REALS!

Well faithful readers, I have some special news for you!

Polkadot Sparrow, my quilting blog, is REAL. It exists. And not just in the fantastical recesses of my mind. It's floating around in cyberspace, too! 

I am excited for this new adventure. And also grateful to all of you who have supported me in my endeavor (Tommy for snagging my site and giving me technical advice; Aunt Helen, Sarah, and HeatherN for rooting me on; and all you others who thought that this was a good idea). 

I'm hoping it's a smashing success! And if not, I'm still pretty darn proud of myself for crafting my blog banner in Photoshop. JB and I were actually wondering about paying someone to make a professional-looking one when the Lord inspired me to make this baby:

No, I am not a professional web designer. This was just a pretty little divine accident.

Feel free to comment on it all you want if you'd like. I love comments! :)

Farewell Maggie

Maggie, my in-laws forever faithful dog, has taken her final bow. 

She was 14 and just done with this world, so last weekend I took her in to the vet and said my final farewell.

We were watching her and Lexi while M&M were in Tennessee. Maggie could barely walk outside to take a leak, and even if she could get out there without being carried, she could barely squat. She wasn't eating. Or even moving other than to waddle to the water bowl.

So JB carried her out to the car in his arms one last time.  A big ball of fur and bones.

"I used to carry you like this when you were a puppy," he said. And he set her gently on the front seat. 

On the way to the vet I reminded Maggie what a great dog she was and what a great run she had. She was mostly deaf so I spoke loudly so that she could hear me. I commended her on her great faithfulness and obedience. And her varmint catching abilities. I told her that she would run again in heaven. 

"I like to think that there aren't squirrels in heaven though, so you'll have to find something else to chase," I told her. 

I couldn't carry on too much conversation because it wasn't safe to drive with tears flooding my eyes. It felt right to take her in; she was miserable. But it's still sad to say goodbye to an old friend. 


I waited in the room at the vet's office for at least a half hour, stroking Maggie's fur and telling her how wonderful and good she was. I was able to keep it together for the whole procedure. I shed tears at the very end, but didn't sob. 


And I was able to keep my sadness at bay until Friday, when I was taking Olivia to M&M's. "We're going to see Grandma Marian and Grandpa Mark," I told her. 

O was silent and then said, "Maggie!!..."


"No baby, Maggie is not there anymore. She went to heaven."


"Yexi?... Maggie!! MAGGIE!!"


"Stop talking about Maggie, O," I squeaked out between my tears. 


It was official. I was going to M&M's and for the first time Maggie would not be there. 

Good-bye, Waggum McTaggums. You were a GREAT dog. 

April goes to Washington

 _________________________________________

A couple of weeks ago JB and I went to Washington D.C. to visit his bro Austin and our new(er) SIL Lauren. I had never been to D.C. before, and as someone who likes America and History and Family, I was set to have a good time.

And I did! (So did JB!)

Here's our Top 10, chosen by me (you'll be able to identify the usual suspects in most photos, but Lauren is the ghost in the long shot of the Lincoln Memorial):

10.) Went to a fabric shop in Fairfax, VA. Fail. The place was nice, but all the fabric was sorted by color. Which defeats the purpose of buying matching fabrics from a particular line! Which is what people like to do! The fabrics are spread all over the place and you cannot find what you're looking for. I got a few things. But it wasn't as exciting an experience as I hoped it would be.

9.) Watched the series finale of LOST with JB. We cried and cried and cried. It was a great finale. 

8.) Went to the MegaMall in Tyson's Corner. Money,  money, money. They had stores there that I've only seen in magazines. Like United Colors of Benetton. Naartjie. L.L. Bean. Shopping there really hammered home how downtrodden the Michigan economy is right now. This mall had big name stores, little to no sales or clearance racks, bright lights, and even brighter, happier shoppers. Michigan malls seem so funeral-like compared to that place. However, I still scored a megadeal at L.L.Bean. There was one lone sweater on the sale rack. One lone red cashmere sweater originally $100. I got it for $25. My first cashmere sweater. Or part-cashmere. I don't care. Even 10% cashmere would make me feel glamorous!

7.) Lost all four games of Ticket To Ride (Europe) that we played. I tried and tried and lost and lost! But you can't go wrong with building your own trains through Europe so it was fun anyway.

6.) PUPPIES!! Puppies, puppies, puppies!! Took a harrowing car ride in and around curves, up and down mountainous road, to see Austin and Lauren's future black lab puppy (and 9 others). By the time we got there JB, Lauren and I were about to vomit. Austin was perplexed at our sickness. JB explained to him it was because he was the driver and was not subjected to the chaotic ride. He drove as carefully as he could on the way home. We all felt much better. Though perhaps we were just riding in on our puppy euphoria. 

5.) Smithsonian! There are a ton of Smithsonians. We hit up the American History one. Most of the exhibits were not as impressive as I had thought. Perhaps the hundreds of people milling about everywhere were the problem. JB and I dug seeing the Julia Childs kitchen and now he has agreed to do our next kitchen with all wood cuttingboard countertops. I am thrilled. My other huge memory from there was the Vietnam War exhibit. I saw an actual helicopter that had to fly in and out of the warzone chaos, picking up dead and wounded. It wasn't like the big helicopters that rich people buzz around in. It was dinky. Like smaller than my kitchen. Vietnam vets are some brave mother f'ers.

4.) Went to the Holocaust Museum. A great experience. Very disturbing, though. Why didn't more Jews or good Germans revolt??? How did that much mass murder happen in modern day?? I held it together until I walked through the boxcar that had taken Jews to one of the concentration camps. I thought of all the babies and little kids who had to squish in there and who died by the time they reached their destination. Imagined being a mom and a.) watching your child die in front of you, and then b.) having to hold that dead baby for days in a cramped car. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

(Did you know that Denmark refused to play the Nazi's game? They resisted till the end. Go Danes!)

3.) Walked through Arlington. I don't care what the liberals say: God Bless the U.S.A.

 2.) Saw WWII and Vietnam Memorials at night, as well as the Lincoln Memorial. If that don't make you proud to be an American, nothing will.

1.) Rode to the top of the Washington Monument: AT NIGHT. Tours are closed to the public at night. Unless you flirt with the security guard like Austin did. :) The view was amazing. Unfortunately the windows were clouded over on the outside, so I didn't get a stellar shot, but I'm sharing what I did get anyway.

Fowl-mouthed Bird

I'm not a big cusser. Compared to some of my siblings I barely cuss. And compared to my Great-Grandma Minnie and Great-Grandpa Don, I am probably a saint. My mom said that those two used to cuss each other up and down so much that it would put sailors to shame (or something like that). Ironically, both of their sons served in the Navy. Perhaps it's because it's what they knew.

So while I do not cuss a lot, I do say, "shit" a lot. I tired of saying "crap." Shit just sounds better to me.

JB has warned me about cursing in front of the Bird. I agreed that it is not good to teach children to swear. That's a lesson better learned from their peers, leaving Mom and Dad to tell you that it's wrong. Even if Mom and Dad used to curse, too.

So I decided that the first time Olivia repeated a curse word would be the last time that I swear around her. Why didn't I stop sooner? I wasn't very motivated to find a replacement word to express my feelings. None of the other ones felt right. In short, I was lazy.

Olivia has been mimicking us for a while now, so I was surprised that she hadn't picked up on "shit." Then Saturday came. With it came Aunt Annie for a visit, and a desire for Olivia to try out her new saying, "Oh shit." She first said it when we were getting breakfast ready. Something caused her to say, "Oh no! Shit!"

Yes, it was very funny.

But then she kept saying it! And we kept trying not to laugh.

I thought that she'd try it out a couple of times and then move onto another saying. This little girl tries out lots of words these days, often abandoning them after a few tries. But apparently Shit just felt right. Because she said it again and again and again.

All weekend.

"Oh no! ...Happened? (meaning, 'What Happened?')... "Shit!"

Annie and I were able to keep the secret from JB until Sunday. Then he and Annie saw Olivia trip and fall to her knees.

"Ohh, SHIT!"

Oh shit is right.

She said it probably a dozen times on Saturday and nearly as many on Sunday. I've started to encourage her to say, "Rats!" instead, which she's trying out. I thought we getting in the clear until last night she yells the S-word out in front of our dinner company Joel, a college student at Calvin.

Now even though he goes to a Reformed Church college, he still thought it was funny.

But I don't think that everyone will.

And unfortunately, she is also learning about utensils and likes to say, "fork," randomly. Which she pronounces "foke" in her little baby voice.Which can sound like the f-word if you don't know what she's referring to.

Fokes, we could be up $&^* creek without a paddle...

A Day in the Life of an 18-month-old

I've been thinking about doing a post on what a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom)'s day looks like. After a long day, JB likes to joke, "What? I thought you just laid on the couch and ate bon-bons all day while I went to work." har har.

But I realized that listing off the six loads of laundry that I did or the rooms that I dusted and vacuumed isn't really that interesting. Not even to me. And I love to vacuum. 

Then I began to ponder a day looks like to Olivia. The busiest girl in America....

(All of these things are TRUE and she did all but 1 of them in the last two days alone.)

7:45: OMG, I am AWAKE! I've got so many things to do today! While I wait for Mama I must keep busy. Cannot be still. Will read my board book aloud. Or play with my stuffed friends Pooh, Brownie, or Ba. Will unzip my jams down to my waist so that I look like a creepy 70's pimp. Or maybe I can stand up in the crib and wait. Maybe, like that one time, I can drape my white blanket over my head and wait, standing perfectly still and silent, so that Mama thinks that I am a ghost. Making her heart stop in fear is so fun!

7:55: Mama is here! I will ardently request my teapot as she lifts me from my crib. TeaPOT! TeaPOT! Must. Have. Teapot. 

8:10: Time to play downstairs while Mama makes breakfast that I won't eat. Better collect any stray remote controls and furiously pound their buttons. V. important business. Wait! I see crayons! Better put them to use. If I can't find my coloring book, I will use any other book I find laying around. Well, Mama is in the kitchen. I'll go in there. I'll climb up on the chair while her back is turned. And color on the table. I couldn't find any paper.

8:45:I am back in my room! Lucy is with me! We will PLAY. TeaPOT TeaPOT TeaPOT. Princesses! Puzzles! BLOCKS!!! Must amass every toy in my room and pile it in the middle of the floor. 

9:15 Mama gets me dressed. This dismays me because it takes away from play time. Then we go to the library. Mama gives me her license and debit card to play with while she looks up a book on the computer. Then we walk to the giant library shelves and she looks for her book. She turns the corner to look at more books. I quickly insert her license and debit card into the stacks. I pull out a random book. Mama comes and stops me from pulling out two more books. She picks me up and goes to the counter with her book. Then she starts to mutter, "Where is my license? Where did you put my cards, Olivia?" 

I do not speak good English, so I do not answer her. 

She gets more and more upset. She eventually finds the cards. 

Drive to another store for errands. "Book! Book! Book!" I cry. Mama hands me all the books in the car. I do not want those books! I want to go back to ALL the books at the library. Mama is not very smart at understanding. So I guess I'll just keep crying out "Book!" until I tire. Which is never.

10:30: ELMO!!!!  We are home and Mama turns on Sesame Street and ELMO!!! Sit quietly in princess chair. Until I get bored. Find something else to do. Mama is doing dishes. AGAIN. How boring. How can anyone like doing dishes that much? I find my green rainboots and try to put them on. Mama has to stop what she's doing to help me. Then I stomp around in my boots. Mama leaves kitchen to get something, and I find the butter dish. I've never noticed it before, but there it is, on the counter, and I can reach it! Woah, this stuff is sticky. I'll try to wipe the butter off the dish and onto my high chair. Mama comes back. "I was gone 3 seconds! What are you DOING??" 

I do not speak good English, so I do not answer her.

11:00: I get to go OUTSIDE. I love "side!" Love. Love. Love. Side. Side. Side. When Mama tries to put me in the stroller to go on a walk, I rebel. I make it hard for her to put me in the stroller. Mama wins. Mama is strong. 

11:45. We're back from walk and Mama lets me play SIDE! She gets out her shovel to dig weeds. I need that shovel. I need that shovel and I need to use it while I sit in Mama's lap. Mama is elusive though and keeps getting away to "weed." Whatever that is. She's pulling up plants. I can do that. I can dig up the ground with Mama's my shovel. I can even step on the plants. Why doesn't Mama want me to help her?

Ooh. Now she's getting out the hose to water the plants. I can help! But first I have to thrust both hands under the water. Cold! My hands and arms are soaked. And then I remember what my Daddy taught me to do at bathtime. I put my head under the water and get it nice and wet. Cold! I want to do it again but Mama doesn't let me.

12:00: Watch Miss Spider while Mama makes lunch.

12:20: Eat lunch chips.

1:00-1:30: I am in my room again! Oh crap. It's just  naptime. Boo. I protest. Mama puts me in bed and I eventually collapse like a boxer who just got TKO'd. 

3:30: AWAKE!!!! Mama doesn't look too good now. She isn't moving very quickly. But I feel GREAT!! 

4:00: Get in car to see NanaPapa. I love going to see NanaPapa. I get to wear Pack. (Pack is a bear I wear on my back. I love Pack. Except for his tail that Mama holds. She says she holds it so that I don't get away from her. I think she holds it so that she can rain on my parade.) I walk proudly with Pack on my back, insisting that we stop for each staircase so that I can practice, though Mama doesn't always listen. Say HI! to every stranger we walk by. 

Nana's room is fun because there are TONS of buttons to push. And things to look at. And things to start to touch until Mama yells at me. I will talk to Nana or Papa if it doesn't take too much time. Must. Keep. Exploring.

Snatch kleenex out of box. Put to mouth and cough twice. It's what I see grownups do. 

Casually walk to the panel at end of Nana's bed. Mama and Papa always point to words on the panel and say, "For Hospital Staff Use Only." Whatever that means. Pretend to wipe down the panel with my coughed-on Kleenex. Mama says that it's nice that I clean. Then, when they are distracted by my tidiness, I flip open the panel quick as lightning and try to push every button.

"No!!!!"

Why does everyone yell at me so much??

5:00: Home from NanaPapa's. Mama is looking very tired. I see my wagon in the garage and request a ride. Mama concedes. While she opens the house door to get the dog's leash, I open the gate and start to leave toward the street with the wagon. Mama screams NO! DANGER!

I do not speak good English, so I ignore her. 

I try again as she's grabbing her keys off of the hook next to the door. 

NO! DANGER!

Good Lord, woman, I just want to go on a stinking wagon ride and you are taking for-ev-er. 

I get bored on wagon ride and swing my legs over the side to get out while Mama is still pulling. That sly cat--she happens to look back right as I'm about to escape and run into the street. She makes me hold her hand while we walk. I escape and run into a neighbor's yard.

5:20: We are home and Mama turns on TV for me, but I get bored and come into the kitchen where she is making dinner. I request a seat on the counter. If I don't get to be on the counter, I will pull open drawers and cupboards until I find something breakable exciting to play with.

5:30: Daddy's home!!! Daddy goes upstairs to change and read email. I continue to make life exciting for Mama. 

6:00: Mmmm, dinner. Maybe. Maybe I will eat dinner.

6:30: Dancey Dance time! Mama turns on the stereo and we dance to fun songs. Like Def Leppard, Black Eyed Peas, Diana Ross, and AC/DC. I insist that Mama wears giant white sunglasses while she dances. It makes it harder for her to dance, which she wants to do to lose weight.  I wonder why she hasn't lost 50 lbs from chasing me around all day. So does Mama.

7:00: Back in my room with Lucy! Time to drop a deuce. Once the smell hits Mama's nostrils in another room, she comes to clean me up. Daddy comes by and says, "That smells like an adult turd!" What do you know--I AM becoming like a big kid! I wiggle around while Mama tries to clean me. She keeps repeating, "Shit." Must remember to repeat after her sometime. It's a new word that Mama seems to like a lot. 

8:00: I get my Jammers on and Mama and Daddy pick up my toys. I follow them and get them out again. Mama makes me sit in the chair to read stories. I rebel. Not enough movement involved. I concede. After 3 books Mama turns out the light. "More!" I demand. "More!" Cry when Mama does not read more books. "Why can't you just go to bed?" Mama asks. 

I do not speak good English, so I do not answer her. 

8:15: Collapse into bed after several renditions of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, which I like to try to sing along to, the ABC song, Jesus Loves Me, and night time prayers. Mama is making very slow movements and appears to have bags under her eyes. She blows me a kiss anyway and says she loves me.

I cannot WAIT for tomorrow.

Diving into Blogland

Remember how I was going to start a quilting blog? 

Well, I really AM!!!

And that's why I haven't been burning up the pages of this blog. I've been busy sewing and scheming. 

The blog is not ready to hit the presses yet, but the gears are in motion. Since you guys have been so supportive of me, I thought I'd share my current banner design. I am not proficient with design stuff. I get ideas in my head but don't know how to make them in real life. So this isn't exactly what I had in mind, but what do you think? 

You can be honest. You can even make me your own banner if you're that motivated. haha. Though I know that you guys are like me and can only dream of being that web-design proficient. JB actually could have studied this in college and become really successful, if you ask me. Where is that dang time machine of ours when we need it???

Here are four quilting blogs that I follow, to give you an idea of what a successful blog is. One of these women have only been blogging for a year and they already have like 1,000 followers. Woah! 

Film in the Fridge (yes, people with film in the fridge are awesome)

Jaybird Quilts (no, I don't just read this one because "bird" is in the name!)

Red Pepper Quilts (this Aussie puts out more product in a month than I will in a lifetime)

Oh Fransson! (pattern and idea maven)


My blog will be a bit different since I will focus on current, modern stuff, but also antique quilts and patterns. And I will write stories about things that have a quilting angle in them. There are hundreds of sewing/quilting blogs out there. Mine will be the best. There. I said it. I know you were thinking the same thing. haha. 

All the cool kids are buying it

I am going to shamelessly promote Grandma and Grandpa Hunt's latest book, "I Do."

BUY IT BUY IT BUY IT

Those of you who know me know that I am very skeptical of devotionals and books on "Christian Living."

It is very hard to find ones that have solid information that seems relevant to me. Too often I have picked up a book that I quickly closed because it was obvious that the author was trying to stretch 50 pages to 150 pages and threw in a lot of senseless repetition and extra words. Maybe it's the journalist in me, but I like when authors make their point once. Not make their point. Then to explain the point with another sentence. Then repeat that point, perhaps with italics. Then repeat it again, this time with a sentence starting with, "It's like," in an effort to further explain the point that we got 4 sentences ago!!

There are only a handful of Christian novels that I can tolerate (thanks Mrs. E!) and about zero devotionals.

Okay, so C.S. Lewis' stuff kicks ass, but I've never finished anything beyond the Narnia series. (I just now decided to try ScrewTape Letters again.) And I've tried Mr. Stott's stuff several times. But he would never use a word like "stuff" so I have to work really hard to understand what his great mind is saying. It's like reading the KJV (actually I find the KJV easier than John Stott--haha!). It's really good, and totally worth it, but it takes a lot of brainpower and will to get through it. And by the end I am so pleased with myself for finally getting it, only to realize that I've just deciphered the first sentence. Maybe one day when I'm smarter I'll try again.

All this to say,

"I Do," is a cool book, and I don't put the cool stamp on many Christian publications.

And it's not just cool because my Grandparent-in-laws penned it. Or because JB and I have the very first, best ever edition (sorry, Austin and Lauren--I am naming yours 2nd edition, so mine is better!), made especially for us before any publisher decided to take it on. Or because it's less than $10, so totally affordable to give as wedding gifts (hint, hint!).

It is cool because it is a great, non-fluff, devotional for any married person, whether a newlywed, or hitched for over 60 years, like the book's authors.

(It JUST came out, but you can get it on Amazon or from the publisher, Discovery House. Or if you're cool like Harry Potter, you can wave your wand and have your owl deliver it to you.)

Recovered from Bad Day

Thanks for your sympathies over my bad day. The ended up being better overall, which included:

1.) Finished piecing the top of Krystal's quilt, planned the backing, and got as far as I can on it before having to spend more money on materials. Yay!

2.) Kept to my new workout routine. It's nothing as intensive as Biggest Loser, but it's something that I can maintain. Though I'm still a little bewildered that I didn't lose like 30 lbs in the first week. Whaa? I have to workout continuously for the rest of my life in order to be healthy?? I can't eat 5 brownies a day anymore?? Agh!

3.) Tom Turkey visited us this week. He liked our yard, as he hung out in the garage and yard for 2 hours before I let Lucy out to chase him off. I had laundry to hang. And I didn't trust him not to peck Olivia's eyes out. And you can bet that Olivia would have tried to pet him. When she saw him out the window she cried, "Ducko, ducko!" over and over again (she now knows it's a turkey). She loves animals. Last week at my parents she kept trying to pet the band of wild calico cats that my Dad keeps. They'd come up on the porch and she'd yell, "Kitty!!!" and try to go out to pet them. She didn't understand why they kept running away. To be honest, I think even a tame cat would run away from such exuberant yelling. Poor Olivia. I guess we'll have to take her to a petting zoo some day.

4.) O got her teaset for her unbirthday (though there was a theftery fiasco involved in that, but this will be a positive blog post). Every morning when she gets up she remembers her new toy and cries, "TEApot! TEApot!!"

5.) A regular activity with O is to make tall towers that she can knock down. Today we built the tallest one yet, with our imposing and impressive Teapot topper. It lasted about 1 minute.

Anatomy of a Bad Day

I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not. But today was just one of those days where things just kept going wrong.

1.) I find dog pee on my freshly laundered jeans that I laid on the bed.

2.) Discover dog has peed all over the bed again. (Yes, she should probably be put down for this, but I'm a dog lover, so she stays.) I always keep our bedroom door shut because of Lucy's incredible naughtiness. She likes to mark the bed when we change blankets each season. We've probably gone a year without incident. Today was one of those days where I forgot to shut the door.

3.) Dog pee has infiltrated my down comforter throw. The quilt. The top sheet, fitted sheet, and even the mattress pad.

4.) Cannot murder dog because child is still sleeping. Dog slinks around, aware of her evil actions.

5.) Spend day cleaning LOTS of bedding. Spend other part of day scheming dog's demise. 

6.) Child sleeps late so I miss going to MOPS. 

7.) Reason that child sleeps later is because child declines daily nap. Child turns into monster at around 4:30 p.m. every day.

8.) Today was not different. Child declines nap, and this time CRIES after being in her crib for less than an hour.

9.) Drive Jeckyl and Hyde child to pick up dogs for dog sitting stint. Have to carry Granny dog out of house. Then Granny dog hides under porch. Have to drag poor Granny dog out from under porch so that I can carry her to the car. Feel terrible dragging a dog by her scruff, but she offers no assistance.

10.) Drive a car full of 3 panting dogs, one little girl, and a load of dog food, a pen, leashes, etc.

11.) Rear end man in rush hour traffic, because I am a dippy do.

12.) Granny dog slides off of backseat in crash, landing on the floor. Her hips are too weak to lift her back onto the seat, so she rides home backwards, her butt on the floor and her front paws on the seat.

13.) Cars, K-9's, and people unharmed, mostly. Minor body damage. Major shame. Man in the Beamer was kind. But I am a bad girl nonetheless.

14.) Let dogs out at home to do business. Call them in. Yell at Lexi for her shit breath, as the side entry reaks of it.

15.) Realize that my child has lots of fresh dog poo on both shoes.

16.) Feel bad for blaming Lexi. 

17.) Accident causes me to get home late and to be frazzled, so I cannot make dinner. Resort to McDonald's. Boo. 

18.) Spray Newmans' own Ranch Dressing on myself and bag while trying to open it.

19.) Realize that it is 11:00 p.m. and I left laundry out on the line.

Agh!

Hopefully this post helped you feel good about yourself today. Compared to me, I'm sure you're trouble free. :)

Dare to Repair

When I was in elementary school I was enrolled in the T.A.G. program. It stood for Talented and Gifted. 

Now, before you start thinking very highly of me, this Dippy Do had to call the refrigerator repairman earlier this week to ask him how to turn the fridge on. (Fortunately, I discovered the "on" switch before he called me back.) So I'm not that Talented and Gifted. 

I'll never forget one of my TAG sessions. We were taken to this garage-type room of the school and asked to dismantle an entire push lawnmower. We quickly got to work taking all the parts off of it. When we were done the instructor said, "Okay, now put it back together."

Apparently it was their belief that smart people learn about things by taking them apart and putting them back together. 

I was not impressed. 

I was 10. Besides, my Dad used a riding lawnmower at home. I had no use for learning how a push lawnmower worked.

Though I was miffed at being asked to put an unimportant machine back together, that idea stuck with me for the rest of my life. All those times I saw my Dad fixing something or building something at our house suddenly made sense. So THAT'S how my Dad figured stuff out! I remember he always had a book in one hand, and a tool in another, whether he was fixing a car or the dishwasher or rewiring the house. 

My Dad is a self-taught man. He can fix cars like you wouldn't believe, yet he never took a single auto mechanics class. He learned how to wire the house he built by reading a book. He learned plumbing the same way. He hooked up furnaces, our wood burning stoves, everything, by reading and figuring it out for himself.  Right now he's teaching himself how to do body work and paint jobs on cars.

So today when the part arrived for my refrigerator it occurred to me that I could probably figure it out myself, instead of paying the repairman $100 for labor. He was set to come tomorrow. So I got out my tools while Olivia played in her room, pretending to give her dolly PiPi drinks of tea from her random toys. She does not have a teaset, but I'm totally getting her this one for her unBirthday (half birthday--why not?):

Nice plastic teasets are hard to find. Often they have garish cartoon characters on them or something. Not necessary.  As a bonus, this one is made in the USA from recycled milk jugs. Well done, Pottery Barn Kids!

Anyway, back to the fridge. I looked online to find out how to get to the part to replace it. Apparently there is a panel at the back of the freezer that I had never noticed before. So I opened it up and found the part that I had to replace, and replaced it. I had never seen the inside of a fridge before, so I wasn't sure what to expect, but it was pretty straight forward. And as long as you remember where everything goes, you can put it back together (without having any extra screws!!).

Then plugged in the fridge, sat back, and was thankful for my TAG pushmower experience and for my Dad's example.

Orange Juice and Grass

I am a clutsy person.

I know. Those of you who know me are saying to yourselves, "Whaaa? April, a clutz? I had no idea!"

It's not possible, I know. My whole life I've found the old adage, "Tuesday's child is full of grace," to be quite ironic.

In the last two days I've had two incidents. I find it truly amazing that I have not subjected Olivia to any major harm since she's been born. I'm sure that God assigned an extra portion of angels to watch over that little girl: not because of herself, but because of her close proximity to me.

The first accident was a result of our fridge breaking down. We ended up losing four gallons of milk (they kept curdling) and numerous other freezer and fridge items. We called the fixit man on Friday, who couldn't come until Monday. He then had to order a part and can't fix the fridge until this Friday. He told us that we could get our fridge going until he came back if we turned it off and let it defrost.

In the midst of this fiasco I ended up driving our frozen meat to our in-laws' freezer; putting any unspoiled cold things in our cooler, filling it with ice, and leaving it in our open garage for two days; dealing with a fridge that leaked all this water all over the floor when it defrosted; and more.

It seemed like I was never going to get an opportunity to clean the fridge, which I was excited to do since it was completely empty. I finally got to work on it during Olivia's non-nap. (She non-naps now, did you know? Some days she just sits in her pen crib and talks and sings and pulls on the bars for 2 hours. If hearing that for 2 hours does not fray one's last nerve, I do not know what does.)

I was rushing, trying to complete the job before I had to get Olivia. Since hearing her fooling around like that drives me crazy, I listened to my iPod while I washed. And apparently listening to music impedes one's sense of hearing, as I did not hear, therefore did not realize, that one of the shelves sitting on the counter had started to fall, crashing the orange juice container (which wasn't in the fridge! argh!) to the floor. OJ everywhere. All over the cupboards, all over the rug, floor, me, everywhere. So I had to stop cleaning the fridge to manage that mess.

It turns out that the OJ ran under the stove, and upon pulling out the stove's drawer, I discovered the oven's grody underbelly. It was about a 1/2" pile of red fibers from our old red rugs, interwoven with white Lucy hairs. So really it was more like a 1/2" gray carpet.

Yum.

Now I had to spend my fridge-cleaning time on operation "oven underbelly." The fridge eventually got cleaned. So did my jeans and the kitchen floor and the cupboards...

Yesterday I actually caused bodily harm to myself while I was working in the yard. Olivia loves playing in the yard. She  mostly wanders around, leans over to pretend to smell the dead flowers from last year (she leans over, sniffs, and goes, "mmmmm!!!"), pats the tree, etc. Since she is so happy in the yard, I decided to do some pruning of said dead flowers, etc.

I couldn't find our actual yard clippers, so I was using this really crappy pair of "grass" cutters to cut our ornamental grass down. Apparently the grass cutters are for trimming simple lawn grass blades. I was desperately trying to snip the thick grass stalks in one hand, and pull away the clipped grass with the other. I guess I grabbed a clump that was not successfully cut, so when I forcefully yanked at it, the grass stayed put, and my finger somehow, in sliding along the blades, suffered a huge gash.

And that my friends, is how you cut your hand open using only grass.

It was one of those cuts that is so deep that it doesn't bleed right away. Then it started oozing out of my  hand. I couldn't just run in to take care of it because I didn't want to leave O in the yard alone. So I had to snatch her up in one hand while cupping a hand of blood in the other. Then I saw her beautiful blue and white polka dot hat laying on the ground (that girl loves wearing her hats!). I couldn't leave that out there!

To make a longer story shorter, I somehow managed to get the dog in the house (sans gate to keep her in the yard), the child, and the hat. I had to to this all without letting on that there was a problem, or else O might become upset and hinder my bandaging efforts. At one point I was trying to turn on the TV to pacify her and blood was running through my fingers onto the back of my hand. It was about to splash onto the floor, which would have caught her interest and caused even more problems as she tried to play with it.

I eventually got the mischief managed, thanks to Neosporin and a big Spiderman bandaid.

And now I'm leary about what today will bring. Don't things always happen in threes? I'm about to unload the dishwasher and mop the kitchen floor. Wish me luck...

Grandma Hunt is sick

Update on the following: last night I posted this blog and heard via emails that you were praying. And guess what? I got a call from Marian just now that Grandma turned a corner in the night and is doing much better today. One of the things she was suffering yesterday was kidney failure--and they started working in the night. And two other major things have righted themselves, too.

THANK YOU to those of you who prayed. THANK YOU...

________________________

Well readers, it's about time that I let you know that Grandma Gladys Hunt (JB's grandma) is sick.

I have put off posting on this because, while I am a very open person who will share anything with the public, this is Grandma's business, and it's not my place to blab.

Not that it's blabbing. I will keep the details simple. But I still feel weird broadcasting about someone else's problems. Though many of you either know Grandma, or know of her, and know what an amazing person she is, and would like to know what's happening with her.

Grandma is sick.

On February 22 she underwent surgery to replace the main aortic valve in her heart. (The put a cow's valve in there-isn't that amazing??) The surgery part went well, but her old lady body is giving her hell right now. It's not recovering like it should. She had anticipated being home within a week of surgery. That was probably being a little hopeful on her part, but still, it's been four weeks and she is not going home any time soon.

For those of you who pray, please pray for her and Grandpa. Grandpa is by her side all day, every day. He goes home at supper and returns every morning. He stands by her side, holding her hand a lot. Those of you who know him know that he's a tough, strong man. So he can do this. But even after I get home from visiting Grandma for just a couple of hours, I'm usually exhausted. It's just a tiring experience.

And Grandma, well, she's been on a rollercoaster ride, getting better one day, then taking two steps back the next. Grandma is a courageous woman, and has always been able to overcome whatever life has thrown at her by simply putting her mind to it. But this is different. She has to put her body to it, and it's not listening.

Today was a very tough day. Her body is backfiring in several places, she's in crazy pain, and to top it off, she can't communicate with us because she had a tracheotomy done (a breathing tube inserted in her throat). So she cannot talk. So a simple request like, "I'd like to lay on my side," takes several minutes to interpret.

When Olivia first visited Nana in the hospital several weeks ago, Nana was sitting in a chair. O walked over to her and patted her lap. She didn't know that Nana couldn't hold her. Now that Nana has been bedridden, Olivia likes to sit quietly next to her on her bed and look at all the tubes and observe Nana. Today O kept requesting to sit by Nana like usual, but it wasn't a good day for that. She couldn't understand why.

Olivia wants Nana to get better so that she can sit in Nana's lap again.

We'd all like to see that.

And your prayers can help.