Word of the day..

Work is so....suckish today, if I can steal my son Gavin's word of the moment. Anytime life doesn't go perfectly smooth for Gav...it's "suckish". As in, "Why is it raining, when I want to go bow hunting, man my life is so suckish!!" Or, "We had meatloaf today at school, it was kind of suckish." I giggle because I constantly make up words that don't exist, and I'm definitely digging suckish!

That's exactly the word that came to mind, in the midst of being completely overwhelmed by problems at work today. This has been a really suckish day!

Joys of motherhood

I've got a million "laugh about it later" stories. Stories where at the time are tear inducing and cringe worthy...but after the dust settles we tell again and again, laughing all the while.

This weekend Gavin (whom most "laugh about it later stories" are about) decided to hotwire(?) my brother-in-law's excavator. Well, not sure if his intentions were to actually start it and drive off, as "oh wow there's an ignition I'm going to stick something in it". At any rate the thing he stuck in the ignition being a pocket knife broke off in the ignition. Gavin of course had "no idea" how this happened, and it definitely "wasn't him". All the while our youngest son Cash was nodding his head telling us, "Yes, you did Gavin". I was livid & horrified all at once. Where did he get the pocket knife? Where was my husband when all of this was going down? My brother-in-law needs his equipment to work, will this mess up jobs he's doing this week? Will he loose out on money because of us? How much will it cost to repair an excavator? Why did my son lie to me? How in the hell did he break heavy equipment?

Thankfully my brother-in-law was very understanding. Gavin had to pick up rocks from the field all Sunday afternoon, and write front and back pages of "I will not lie to my mom and dad" (and fyi he spelled lie...."l-i-i"...which made me think about grounding him from his w-i-i!)I got the great news yesterday morning that 51.00 was the grand total of Gavin's debacle. So the funny story with my customers yesterday when they would complain about something their child had done, was "But has your child ever broken an excavator?....Didn't think so." I'm sure in one way or another I brightened their day, either with a chuckle, or the thought of "at least a (Phew) "My child has never done that !"

Proud to be a Weird Missourian!

The other day I was having polite conversation-you know where the person doesn't really want to talk to you, and you don't really want to talk to them, but the awkward silence is too much to bear so you start one of those, "So, how 'bout the weather?" kind of conversation? The lady mentioned that she was heading for Ohio for 10 days for vacation. Nothing against Ohio, but it's not typically known for being a vacation hotspot, so I asked if she had family there. Turns out she did, and that she's originally from there. She went on to say how much she loved Missouri, but how when she first moved here how weird she thought we all were, because Missourians wave at.....everyone! Which brought me back to memories of my dad waving at every single car that passed, and my brothers and I asking, "Who was that?" and my dad would reply, "I have no idea." Now years later it's me driving down the road, waving at everyone, and my children are asking, "Who was that?" and I can smile and say, "I have no idea". I took her calling us weird as a compliment, and I think she genuinely meant it as one. So if your a fellow weird Missourian pat yourself on the back!

Gavin: I love you mom and I'm really glad you gave birth to me!!
Cash: I love you mommy!
Gavin: I love you, you’re the best mom in the whole wide world, and I'm so glad you and dad met and got married and are my parents.
Maddie: Want me to rub your back?

Me: Wha..Wha...What the heck? What did you three do? Did your dad tell you to say these things?

Gavin & Cash:(in unison)YES (hey, at least they're honest)

I know I've touched on this topic before, but I'm going to touch on it again, and in the future, probably still yet again.

I love doing things for my husband and children. They are my life. My entire universe revolves around them. There is not a decision I make that I don't do a mental rundown on how the outcome may affect my four loves. Unfortunately, my husband has been rendered borderline helpless because I handle...well...honestly I handle everything. I make sure our household runs smooth. I am the maid, the chef, the tutorer, the pitcher, the catcher, the financial analyst, the personal shopper, the gardener, and the chauffeur, and 28 days a month (26 in Feb) everything runs pretty much like clockwork, and I can do it with a smile. There's just those pesky hormone-overloaded couple days a month that I feel underappreciated. Where, I'm disgusted by the very monsters I created. I feel overwhelmed, under loved, and frankly I just need to hear how awesome I am from my loved ones.

It's only taken 13 years of life together, but the husband finally has his PMS radar locked in on mood swings. He can recognize the change in me with ease now. That's when he takes the kid's out of my hair for a couple hours, and they come back, rehearsed and ready to let the compliments(as ridiculous as some of them are..."thank you for giving birth to me"...really?)fly. But as ridiculous as they are, I need to hear them. It fills me with purpose, and gives me the energy to take on the world, for the next 28 days, anyway.

God is my homeboy!

Yesterday morning I arrived at work, knowing that my boss lady (affectionately known as mom) was handling a house inspection and wouldn't be into the office until mid-morning. I opened my purse for my office keys, but could not find them anywhere. I opened the ashtray of my vehicle which we use as a loose change/sometimes key holder and they weren't there either. Then I remembered I'd walked to the post office right before I'd left the office the night before, and as my stomach sank, remembered tossing the keys on my desk, but had no recollection of retrieving them before left. "Please God", I said more to myself out of frustration, than as an actual prayer, and opened my purse up, right to my office keys. It made me stop and say an actual prayer of thanks to Him. I've really neglected prayer lately, and felt extremely guilty.

Later that day, I was in desperate need of caffeine in the form of a Diet Pepsi. I searched through my loose change, finding all the "silver" I needed for the soda machine, except one dime. I decided to count out 10 pennies and trade them into the boss lady for a dime, but upon doing so, found a dime, that I swear was not there before. I took this as another nudge from God showing his awesomeness, and said another prayer of thanks. Not a "Dear Lord, thank you for this dime and for the soda I'm about to receive", but a "Thank you for giving me this reminder that you're always there, and for the wake-up call to get back into the groove of praying, and attending church.

The final miracle happened when remembered a bill that I forgot to pay. It was due the 17th. It's always been due the 17th. I looked through my "bill folder" and could not find the bill. So, I went to the website, logged in, and not only wasn't there a bill, but I have a zero balance. There will be no more bills, ever from this account.

Now, I'm sure there are some of you that are thinking all 3 of my miracles can be explained. "You overlooked your keys and the dime, and you just forgot you made your final payment last month." I don't think so, I choose to believe I had a little help from a Higher Power, and I promised to blog about that today to spread his greatness!

I can't make this stuff up

Yesterday when arriving home from work, Gavin was fishing in the creek in front of our house. I stopped and asked if he was having any luck since the minnows that swam in the creek were smaller than the actual bait he was using. He assured me there were perch as well, and I went on into the house leaving the fisherman to have his fun. As we were heading outside to leave for our church's Vacation Bible School, we heard Gavin screaming hysterically. Cody and I sprinted to the bridge to see what was wrong, and in the meantime I distinctly heard the word "snapping turtle". So, I veered off, grabbing my camera from the truck, and continued running toward Gavin. (I know your thinking, this was no time for a photo op, but my mind had raced ahead 10 years to how funny this would be when he was 18 and we could say, "Remember when you caught that snapping turtle from our little creek? Ha-Ha Good times" please don't call social services)

When we got to Gavin, he had a massive snapping turtle on the end of his line, and his hysterics were caused by not knowing what to do. Fishing is one of his favorite activities, and he was not going to drop his pole (especially in a creek containing a very large snapping turtle!)Nor was he going to reel the thing up! Finally, as his dad came to his rescue (he's a regular superman isn't he, fighter of all reptiles!)Mr. Turtle decided he wasn't hungry for brightly colored plastic bait after all, and let go, retreating under a rock. I did manage to take a picture of the snapping turtle on the line (sorry need a card reader to get the pic off, but will post it as soon as possible) but Gavin wouldn't let me take a picture of his face, because he wasn't looking his toughest.

I'm aware in posting this no one will be visiting me for awhile, with our home seeming to be a regular reptile center. Maybe I should start charging for tours.

This week with what little free time we've had between softball games, and basketball camp we've worked on outside projects. A lot of the work has been taken care by Cody's favorite mead of transportation...the tractor. He's repaired our gravel road that takes constant beatings by the rainstorms we've had, and he bush-hogged (I'm so desperately trying to think of another word for this, for the readers who aren't familiar with this term-it's a machine you pull behind the tractor that basically "mows" fields)areas closer to the house, sprucing things up a bit.

One place in particular he tended to was an area right behind our house that I refer to as, the “City of Lost Baseballs”. Gavin would hit the ball long and hard, over our heads into this tall grassy area, and we'd immediately chalk the ball up as a "goner", mostly because I did not want to have to start referring to that area as the “City of Lost Children”. Well, last night with it freshly mowed, I decided it would be the perfect opportunity to look for lost baseballs. I quickly found 3, and stomped around looking for more. About 5-10 minutes after I'd given up my search, the husband, who'd been mowing our yard, moved to the edge of grass right by COLB, and quickly went into hysterics...um I mean moved into hero- mode pushing us all back in one fall swoop, running into the house with lightning speed, and emerging with his weapon of choice (Gavin's .22) stopping the evil culprit in his tracks.

And who was this evil culprit I speak of? Why this guy right here:

Readers meet Mr. Copperhead, guardian of City of Lost Baseballs. I'm not usually afraid of snakes, not that I love them, but they don't bother me, say like those little spawns of satan spiders. Guys, I was physically ill, after this incident, knowing I stomped (yes stomped, the grass was tall, and I was feeling for baseballs with my shoes) in an area where I could have ...should have been Copperhead appetizer!