Kismet

Love, Me

It would probably come as no surprise to you for me to say that I express myself best via the written word. If I want to express the depth of an emotion it works best for me to write it. Even if I feel I have to verbally express something to someone it flows more smoothly for me to write it out first. Whether I'm sending a simple birthday card or trying to express a deeply felt emotion, I have to write it.

I think I've instilled that trait in my children to a degree, and to one in particular. I want them to write. I want their children to write; to love to write. To express themselves in writing.

When Mason's little brother was born he went through a short period of adjustment. He was excited and accepting, but there were clues that told me he was having a bit of an occasional struggle. He wrote a note to no one in particular but slid it to me with the word 'private' written on it.

And like me he is emotional, especially when he is tired. Which he was yesterday after a late bedtime Saturday night. The morning was rocky anyway as we tried to get the digital picture frame loaded to take to my mother in law, wrapping the gifts, loading the car.

Just as we were finally ready to pack up and leave, the neighbor boys, who are older and don't always include Mason, yelled accros the driveway for Mason to come play. Of course we had to tell him that no, he couldn't play because we were leaving.

Melt down.

We got the tears dried and before we left my guys realized they'd forgotten to give me my Mother's Day card when they gave me my flower baskets. I sat down to wait while they 'sneaked' off to sign their cards and smiled excitedly when they brought them in to me.

Mason handed me his card and I made a big deal out of it ooohing and awwing over his choice and reading the front:

And then I opened it and realized he was still angry with me:

He expresses himself well, don't you think?

How was your Mother's Day?

~K!

Purchase

We succumbed.

We followed the wishes of our Commander in Cheif and spent our stimulus check (which we haven't yet received) on a 42 inch flat screen, high def, plasma, blah, blah, blah, television.

The problem? We don't anywhere to put it.

Sometimes I can't believe I raised three children and numerous pets in this house. Today the three of us feel cramped.

So I am spending my Sunday rearranging rooms and furniture while my guys are at the Zoo with friends.

Are you spending your stimulus check? And if so, how?

~K!

Carny

A few weeks ago my sister Tommi, her 15 year old son Zoe, Mason and I all piled in the car and drove out to the 'country' to visit our sister Shannon. And by country I mean she lives in a tiny bedroom community about 35 miles from Portland where I live. After we arrived Shannon announced, 'The carnival is in town!" And by 'town' she means a 5 minute drive to the next larger community, which is actually their county seat.

The carnival was absolutely the smallest I've ever seen. There was one food wagon with cotton candy and sour smelling corn-dogs, 1 adult ride and 5 or 6 kiddy rides and some games of 'chance'. It was set up in the parking lot of the Rite Aid with the driveway entrance from they highway running right through the middle of it. I was scared to death some little kid was going to be mowed down by an incoming carnival goer.

Shannon bought a handful of tickets and we stood in the intermittent drizzle watching Mason ride the kiddy rides. We stood next to the food truck and Shannon advised us against ordering anything from it.

"They didn't get a very good rating and I can smell the grease" she said. As we stood there she made eye contact with the 'carny' operating the kiddy roller coaster. They gave each other a knowing nod.

Years ago my sister left a rotten home life and became a carny. She was only 17 years old. She joined a local group and traveled all across the Pacific NW making precious little money but feeling a freedom she'd never experienced.

Shannon doesn't talk much about that time of her life. I was already gone, married and moved away. So as we stood in the rain that day I asked her a few questions. I was surprised by some of the answers.

She told us that at night she and the other carneys generally slept under the trucks and trailers, in part to prevent theft and vandalism. She continues;

"Usually once a month or so we'd all pool our money and someone would rent a motel room in whatever city we happened to be in so we could take turns showering. The rest of the time you hoped the carnival was camped next to a river so you could bathe. We'd also pool our money and someone would haul our clothes to a laundromat every so often."

I asked her if they ate the food from the vendor carts.

"Oh no, you were given chits and used them at the chuck wagon that was specifically for the carneys. The chit was then deducted from your pay. The food was actually not too bad and considerably better than the vendor carts."

She told us that they'd tear down the carnival usually starting at midnight and travel during the night to the next town. Set up was brutal, back-breaking work and most suited for the younger set. Everything had to be ready at the start of the opening day. And then they were required to stay up and run the rides till closing time.

Friendships were forged, fights were fought, and even married couples would sign on for a couple months for extra cash for the summer.

All in all I think it was a hard life, this equivalent of 'running away to join the circus'. But my sister learned a lot about life while she was a 'carny' and that has served her well. She is an amazing woman who has mastered many seemingly insurmountable obstacles during her lifetime and has come shining through. I am constantly amazed at her strength and detrimnation. She has a practical wisdom that sometimes surprises people. She was a single mother for years and has 2 sons that she is fiercely devoted to and protective of. She works long hours without complaint and is good at what she does. I can't help but think she must draw on her long ago carny expreiences to get her through some long hard days.

And though she often doesn't believe it, I look up to my little sister and her zest for life. She makes me proud.

~K!

Dogs I Have Known: Toby

An ongoing introduction to the various dogs through out my life.

When we moved into our house in 1980 the first pet we owned was a kitten. The children were thrilled to have a pet of their own. We never considered that we'd ever want a dog even though my husband grew up owning them.

One summer day my brother-in-law pulled into our driveway, opened his van door and escorted a lethargic small collie mix dog up to our doorstep. Roger told us he'd been driving down the freeway and found the dog dodging traffic. He pulled his van to the side of the road and coaxed it into the van. There happened to be a loaf of bread in the van and the starving dog wolfed it down. I remember that it was a holiday weekend and the humane society wouldn't open til Tuesday. Roger asked us if we'd mind keeping 'Toby', a name he liked and bestowed on the dog, until then as he lived in an apartment and couldn't keep him.

Toby never left.

Our girls were enchanted by the little dog and he was faithful to them. We took the family to the beach one day. As I trailed along behind the children watching them picking up shells and racing the waves I began to notice that whenever anyone approached us from the opposite direction Toby would position himself between the children and the newcomers like a good herder. He wasn't aggressive and didn't even bark, he just silently told the world, 'This is my family and I am here to protect them."

I liked that.

Toby's herding instinct, while beneficial on the beach, also became an occasional hazard. He once herded a group of kids as they ran out the door to play and tripped a 7 year old which resulted in a broken collar bone. He also ran in front of a bike my husband was riding which knocked David ass-over-tea-kettle and caused a chain reaction bike crash which resulted in a lot of road rash.

But whatever world Toby came from had left him with a few scars. He never really felt secure in the knowledge that he wouldn't go hungry again. He grazed under the dining room table during meal time and anxiously awaited his dinner bowl in the evening.

One Sunday we left some house guests to sleep-in while we all went to church. I had put a roast in the oven and had the meal planned to put on the table when we got home. After church I hurried though the door and was greeted by our house guest, Val who sheepishly told me, "Your dog got up on the kitchen counter and pulled down both pies and ate them before I got up!"

One day a few years later our neighbor lady knocked on my door and asked me if I knew where our dog was. I didn't even realize he was not around because the kids had been in and out all day. Then she told me, "I think I just saw him lying dead along the (nearby) highway."

It was true. Our rescued dog that we'd saved from a certian death on the freeway ultimately died after being hit by a car on the highway.

Being a dog owner herself and knowing I was alone with the kids here at home, our neighbor graciously went back down to the highway with blankets in her car and put our pet in the trunk and brought him back. She then kept Toby in her yard until David got home from work and could take him in to be cremated.

Our girls still talk about their first dog with fondness and I have to say, I miss him too.

~K!

The Truth About Homeschooling II

During a Language lesson worksheet:

Me: Well how much sense does this make; drop the silent 'e' and add 'es'? Example:

state=states

Husband: Maybe it's like adding 'ed'.

Me: Well it's still the same thing, you would just add the 'd' not drop silent 'e' and add 'ed'.

Husband: I don't know, that's just how they teach it now I guess.

Me: Well it makes no sense whatsoever and I don't remember learning it that way.

Mason, seizing the opportunity to escape: I'm outta here!

Is that how you teach adding 'es' and 'ed' to a word with silent 'e' on the end?

~K!

Soul Mates

In March 1974 I turned 18 years old. I had my own apartment and a job and had been 'on my own' for quite awhile. I knew how to make a budget, pay bills, shop for and prepare a weeks worth of menus.

And plan a wedding.

On April 14th, less than a month later, my daddy and I walked arm and arm down the 'aisle' and into my new life.

And now, 34 years later, I am still living the life I dreamed of and so very much more. I still have a job, adhere to a budget, pay bills, plan menus and prepare meals. I also helped 2 of my daughters plan their weddings.

I love my life.

And I love being married to such a kind and thoughtful man. David has brought me yellow roses for each and every anniversary for the last 34 years.

Happy Anniversary, my love.

~K!

Who ya gonna call.....?

My husband has the gift of play. Children naturally flock to him. At the private school Mason attends we had to give some volunteer time or pay an extra $400 in tuition. David readily volunteered to be the one to go in. Once a week he'd put in his hour during gym/lunch pitching to batters, lifting kids to dunk baskets and being 'it' while the kids ran cirlcles around him.

He is also much better at being a boy than I'll ever be. Thank heavens.

Tonight after Mason was allowed to watch Ghost Buters II (ahem) he jumped up and RAN to his bedroom. He dumped his can of Tinkertoys on the floor and yelled, "Grampy! I need you!" At one point he skipped past me on his way to the basement and called out over his shoulder, "We're making proton packs!"

After 15 or 20 minutes he came out wearing his creation and sporting his ghost buster gun (I can't remember what it's called).

I was pretty amazed at the creativity and planning that went into it.

After a bit his playmate joined him wearing a Superman backpack and sporting a caulking gun as a weapon.

Like I said, the gift of play.

What's your favorite game to play with your children?

~K!

Giving

My friend AnnMarie has a great post up about her quest to end cancer deaths. She is giving $5 for every comment left on her blog to the American Cancer Society. So please go and leave a comment and let's fight this horrid disease.

Thank you,

~K!

We all wear masks

Cirque du Soleil Corteo

The kids loved it. To me it is like air ballet. The performers remind me of highly skilled dancers. I would love to have talent like that. I'd love to have a physique like they have.

Speaking of physique, mine is horrendous.

It's the mask I wear.

~K!

Tooth Fairy

All our 6/7 year olds are losing their front teeth. Once a tooth is loose it is wiggled and wiggled and wiggled. Sometimes the child doesn't have the nerve to give it that last needed tug to get it out.

Which leaves him looking snaggletoothed:

He finally lost it the day after this picture was taken. He came up to my room when he got up that morning and crawled in bed with me. I was still trying to hang on to dreamland when he suddenly shouted, 'My tooth came out!'

I kept trying to remember who he reminded me during those days while he was wiggling that lone tooth.

And then it hit me:

Nanny McPhee!

~K!