Yes, I am fearfully, and wonderfully, the maid.

Oprah ain't got nothin' on the girls in the desert....

2011-10-07T22:59:00.000-07:00

I am sick. I am coughing and coughing...hacking...and just all out sounding like a Ferris Bueller sound effect. (Remember that? Oh, how I wish we could go back to COOL movies like that...and of course, turn back some wrinkles. I bet Ferris does too... Matthew Broderick has not aged well!)

So, back to my self pity. Not feeling good...pretty sure that at any moment I could cough up my spleen, or maybe just a lung. I have to tell you, I have pretty much been feeling like I am ready for the green needle. You know, the one you promise your dog when it has peed on your brand new sofa for the LAST time? Yep. Put. Me. Out. Of. My. Misery. And when mom is sick....the family does not stop. In fact, I kid you not when I say that today...while I was pretty much ready to turn purple from coughing...my 2 year old son lovingly said..."Mom, will you stop making that noise? I am trying to color." Sigh.

I actually was not even sure about my reasons for living. Faith, family, future, blah blah blah.

BUT...then I remembered...(Oprah light bulb moment!)...that just this last weekend...right before my hacking and coughing banished me to my couch for 5 days...I went to a party.

Not just any party. The second annual "Favorite Things" party...at my sweet friend Jovina's house. Jovina is one of those super classy ladies that would never talk about coughing up her spleen on a blog. She has a tidy, beautifully decorated, and perfectly appointed home with a family to match. In fact, her heart is so big, she even does all kinds of fun party-ish, neighborly things throughout the year. I am pretty sure she knows every teacher at the elementary school, in fact, most of them were at the Favorite Things party. (Which is a huge bummer for someone like me who has 8 children, and is bound to have irritated or someday will irritate each of those teachers at some point in the elementary school lifespan of my family!)

Jovina is one of those "I don't know how she does it" kind of girls. She is creative, organized, a little obsessive (she admits that)...and well...it paid off for us invitees big time. Jovina packed the house this year with a bigger than last year "Favorite Things party."

This is a great party, where we bring 2 favorite things...share them with the audience to give us all some great gift giving ideas...and we give one away. (And let me tell you, no pressure there...while everyone was busy sharing all of these great ideas...mine sucked. Completely el sucko.) Just when I am pretty much feeling insecure and wanting to take my cough and my newly shorn head of hair and leave with my dumb idea...IT HAPPENED!

OPRAH herself....okay, not OPRAH...but my fabulous blog friend, April....and the hostess Jovina...shared one of Jovina's favorite things.

You see, the reason I decided to not kick the bucket yet...is I have this brand new toy! Woo Hoo!!

It is a Purple Cow...Hot & Cold Laminator!

I am pretty sure that April channeled Oprah as she hollered out..."You get a Laminator....You get a Laminator....EVERYBODY gets a LAMINATOR!!!" (Or maybe it was Dane Cook? Ever hear the "humpback whale?" skit? At any rate...it was HILARIOUS! And so much fun. And by the way...April is so much hotter than Oprah. And her new cute glasses are divine. April...if you fall off the cruise ship...will you will them to me?)

The wonderful Jovina called this fabulous company and told them how much she would LOVE to showcase this item...and would LOVE to give it to each gal at her party. They not only sent her one for each of us....but they threw in some other great door prizes as well! You want proof? Check. Us. Out! :)

I am hiding behind my beautiful friend Catherine on the far right (she has on the pink shirt)...I am in black (hello....my signature color)...and completely okay with the fact that I am not at all visible.

I was, afterall, still dreading sharing my el-sucko idea...and well...a wee bit excited about a FREE new TOY!

I might just start labeling and lamenating everything in my home. I love the idea of having scriptures laminated and posted all over the house.

Who the heck am I kidding...I will more than likely use this for parties. Candy Buffet labels, Ice Cream Sundae Bar labels, Gift tags, Bookmarks, signs telling my kids not to pee on the toilet seat.

You know. The important stuff.

So that, my friend is why I won't be kickin' it just yet. (After all, you can live without a spleen right? And now, if I hack it up...I can just laminate it!)

Thank you so much Jovina...and THANK YOU so much...to the Purple Cow! You made my day!

Sincerely,

The most grateful, still sick, shorter-haired maid!

All other ground is sinking sand...

2011-09-08T02:01:00.000-07:00

Try not to kill over from blog shock.

I am actually posting.

The last couple of years have been a roller coaster ride. And not the ones at Disneyland...but more like Six Flags. You know, the kind where you start out the ride with clean underwear...and it is anyone's guess at the end if you are still fit to get in an accident. (Remember what mom taught you?)

As a broker in the commercial real estate community, in the hardest hit commercial sector in the nation, my husband has weathered the worst storm of his career. It has been nearly 3 years since he has sold a property. THREE years. I don't know about you folks, but in these here parts, we weren't taught to save for a rainy day like that. Holy cow!

What I have learned, however, is that God is faithful. Period.

I believe in God. There is absolutely no way that I can logically believe that we have survived by coincidence. Ten people in one house, one income...reduced to about 20% of it's normal size. All I can say is God has blessed us and protected us. Kept us (so far) in our home, when many of our friends have faced foreclosures, short sales, and multiple moves. People who have had much steadier income than we.

We have learned to completely live on cash and have let go of all of the training we received that made us treasure our credit score. (Our credit report is more like a rap sheet. And the number, I don't want to know!) Cash. Good, old-fashioned cash. We don't incur credit card debt anymore, ever. We use a card for recurring transactions that have to be pulled automatically out of an account...but because we have no choice, we pay it off every month.

We have actually grown closer as a family in many ways. Our budget dictated for about a two-year period, that we get rid of kids' cell phones (only the oldest 2 had them anyway), we got rid of cable, we drove less to save gas, we stopped all sports (there weren't many), and discontinued dance classes and piano lessons. We cut our dining out down to a minimum...and when we did eat out...it was usually without children and it was a treat to get 39 cent tacos. (Does this mean we lived perfectly within a budget? Heck no. We are still learning, but we learned really fast how to buy oodles of groceries with coupons, to savor every windfall...even a $50.00 perk from hubby's job...often meant we could put gas in the car when we didn't think we could!)

We sold unnecessary items at yard sales, on ebay, and Craig's List. We learned to live with one vehicle...a first for us. As long as we have been married, we have each always had something to drive. I have not only grown accustomed to it, but I have actually learned to like having one car. We do a lot more things in unison now. There is much less going in different directions...we are a team.

My husband's sacrifices have been many. He has worked 2 jobs and kept long hours for nearly 3 years. And anytime something surfaced, we have taken on extra earning opportunities. Cleaning out warehouses...(The Butler) baking for weddings...(The Maid)...and even had our kids selling candy bars to the neighborhood in order to be able to go to youth events with our church. Stuff for which we would have normally just whipped out our card..or tossed them some cash.

We have learned the art of saying no. Admitting to people that we could not afford things. We got creative when we had to. And at just the right time, God would provide our needs. Clothes for the kids (hand me downs...super great bargains at the store)...gas money, extra work, and so much more! We actually got to take a cruise this year as a late 15th anniversary celebration...and it was as if we were kings and queens. It was a treat...and God given...at just the right time.

We have learned to live the lyrics of this great hymn...

"My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly trust in Jesus’ Name.

When darkness seems to hide His face,
I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the whelming flood.
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my Hope and Stay.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh may I then in Him be found.
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.
On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand."

I look at the fabric of our married life the last 16 years, and I realize that God has had a plan in all of it. He has been the solid Rock on which we stand. He has been "all my Hope and Stay"...my anchor. The Lord has truly made beauty from ashes.

In my absence from writing and posting in the blogging community, I have not been absent in reading. I have not been around near as much, but have been pointed in different directions from time to time and have read a few things. (I've missed you!)

A fellow blogging friend posted recently about a woman who suddenly about a month ago lost her husband. Her husband of 16 years. That resonated with me. This October will be 16 years for my husband and I. I believe the couple is about the same age as my husband and I. And the dad left behind children. I read her blog often, through my own tears. Becoming a widow, or my husband a widower, is one of my greatest fears.

I have been moved in reading her stories and have felt the pain in her writing. Her beautiful tributes to her husband and her candor have been completely thought-provoking for me.

I related a lot to her. I put myself in her shoes. I felt for her. I couldn't shake the feelings that were stirred up in me and I found this woman and her girls were on my mind often. I didn't understand why, until tonight.

In reading her most recent posts, I came to learn that there is one very important thing that we do not have in common...she does not believe in God.

She does not believe that there is a savior who died for her, paid the price for her sins, and waits for her in glory. I assume, from what she has written, that neither did her husband.

I suddenly found myself totally unable to relate to her. In that one choice, that depth and core of your very soul belief...we were again strangers.

And I found myself not just feeling for her because of her loss, but because she IS lost. We can all agree to disagree about absolute truth, the Bible being the inspired word of God, and have deep-rooted arguments about theology...but no one can explain to an unsaved person the feelings of absolute peace and trust in the divine plan of a savior.

God's word says that "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." Nothing says it better, in my estimation. Nothing. Because this woman doesn't know Christ, what God's word says about her suffering, her circumstance, and God's plan for her life is foolishness to her. Not just foolishness, but she even used profanity to describe her feelings towards such a thought.

Does that mean that I understand why things happen, heavens no. But when I cannot trace God's hand, I have learned to trust His heart. There is safety in the promise of eternity, and perspective. There is purpose in it.

I hurt for this woman in a new way tonight. I won't call it pity, but really deep sadness. It is not by accident that God had me stumble upon her posts. It is not by accident that I would lie awake wondering why I couldn't shake her story. Jesus kept me returning to "know" her. Now I know why. I believe in the power of prayer, in the power of the other believer's testimony on her page encouraging her in faith, and I believe in divine appointment. I may never meet her, I may never see the fruit of fervant prayer on her behalf, but I know that God has given me the privilege of praying for her and He promises that His word will not return void.

How my prayer will be that she would surrender to Christ early and know His peace. That this crazy little blog community that put two strangers with opposite theology in instant contact, will provide relief and comfort in the power of the Cross...because without it...all other ground is sinking sand.

In Christ,
The Maid

Another fine dining experience...

2010-01-14T17:49:00.000-08:00

Sitting here at the computer right now...with kleenex shoved up my nose...trying to prevent the dripping on the keyboard, well, is not the most convenient way to scrapbook the memories of my life.

But this one, I am sure, is one I will want to remember.

Somehow, last night, I came down with a raging head cold. I have been sucking cough drops, downing vitamin C, drinking orange juice, gargling with salt water...etc...in an attempt to avoid the inevitable crappy feeling I am dealing with right now.

Can't breathe. (Which I don't understand why air can't get through because every ounce of fluid in my body is able to just drip out....)

Can't taste. (I am pretty sure that this is what hell is like...never being able to taste. UGH!)

Eyes watering.

Sore throat.

Runny, red, rudolph nose. (Which is in and of itself, birth control. I'm sure the hubs loves the look!)

So....imagine being called to dinner by your sweet hubby.

He had exactly 25 minutes to eat dinner with us before leaving for the dreaded evening job. He made baked potatoes, grilled the perfect salmon, and salad. (Which, when you are sick, is sandpaper. Sorry to say I did not eat the salad tonight! Now, ice cream, I think I could do that.)

So we all ate this lovely fish dinner....each kid professing it tasted good. Even the baby hardly threw a morsel on the floor. (Which is his way of giving it a thumbs up.)

Shortly after, my hubby left for work. We all started to pitch in to clean up the mess..and while cleaning decided to give the sweet baby a few cheerios to keep him happy.

Cheerios are a staple of any 13 month-olds diet, I assure you. In fact, they like to wash down baked potato and salmon with the little donut seeds.

***And that is when the comedy started. (I can say that now, now that it is over.)

She #1: "He's choking!"

Me: "Quick, help me unbuckle his high chair."

(Baby gagging...starting to turn colors)

Me: "I can't get it unstuck."

She #1: "There...got it."

At this point, the entire brood of 8 kids was hovering around us to see if He #4 was okay.

I turned him over, began the Heimlich Maneuver, and nothing.

Me: "He is still gagging, somebody call 911, and go get the neighbor!"

(Our neighbors across the street are both nurses...I have called on them before for the exact same thing.)

He #1: "Here"...trying to take the baby away from me...and then just pounding on his back.

(Baby begins crying)

Me: "Oh there...I think you got it."

He #1: "C'mon buddy, get it out."

(Baby spits up and cries and coughs and is totally fine.)

Me: "Nevermind guys...don't get the neighbor...he is okay."

***I know. Totally scary. NOT the funny part.***

My oldest went to give him a bath, while I resumed paying bills at the computer. All of the other kids were running around doing the after dinner things they always do....

*Letting the dog in to clean up the floor.
*Fighting over who actually ate the most of their dinner.
*Tattling on the sister who still had to finish hers.
*Stalling on putting the clean laundry away.
*Spilling the box of cheerios everywhere as they returned the box to the pantry.
*Continuing to narc on the sibling that STILL had not eaten her food.
*Begging for dessert.
*Beginning to strip down to naked for the nightly bathing ritual.

...when all of a sudden..."DING,DONG"

"Is your mother home?"

Oh. Crap.

Those words never lead to a Publishers Clearinghouse Check...in fact, they are usually bad news.

Me: "I'm right here." (Walking to the door while buttoning up my pants and praising Jesus that I had showered and brushed my hair, and then remembering the stuffy, red, rudolph nose.)

"Hi, we got a 911 hang up call from this address."

Me: "Oh, I'm sorry. Our baby was choking, but he is okay now. I didn't realize that anyone had called you."

"Yes, ma'am. Is this the one who was choking." (Pointing to He #3, naked and in diaper.)

Me: "No. It was the baby. He is in the bath right now."
(Then realizing how bad that sounded....)

Me: "His big brother is giving him a bath."

"May I come in?"

Me: "Of course, come and check on him."

As I let him in, the stupid puppy went darting out the front door...as did three kids running after her.

Big, armed, scary officer heads for my dinner ravaged, cheerio covered floor kitchen...

Me: "He is back here, in the bathroom"

He followed me down my messy toy cluttered hallway, in through the master bedroom with laundry baskets on the floor, dirty laundry in a pile on the floor, and freshly peeled off laundry covering the bathroom floor...(ugh, I wanted to die)...

Me: "There he is. Son, did you call 911? Someone called 911 and hung up."

He #1: "No."

Baby: "Hi!" (cutest face ever waving wet hand from tub)

Officer talking into vest.."I have the baby here, he is fine." (Really...As if he had just nailed some suspect. It was hilarious.)

Me nervously apologizing for the mess..."Sorry about the mess, it is crazy here around dinner and bath time."

Officer: "What do you think the baby choked on?"

Me: "A cheerio. He eats them often, but one just got stuck and made him gag. I panicked because I couldn't get him unbuckled from the highchair fast enough and yelled for someone to call 911. I just didn't realize that they did. It happened very fast."

Officer: "It is always good to wait to hang up until you tell the operator that things are okay."

Me: "I agree." (Officer dorkwad...did you not hear me? I didn't know they called 911. I didn't even know WHO called 911!)

Me: "Thank you for checking on us. We are really glad you are there to do that."

Officer: "No problem. "

As I followed him out the front door, here comes my 3 year old in a diaper, my 9 year old carrying the worlds dumbest dog, my 13 year old smacking my 11 year old telling him to get out of the street with two cop cars sitting out front of my house.

Can we say, "GHET-TO?"

Me: "Oh, when I let you in our puppy took off running."

Officer: "Yeah, I bet he looks for any opportunity to escape all those kids."

Yeah. You are so funny officer Seinfeld. Now go eat a donut.

*** And as I walked back in the house and surveyed the mess...Christmas tree still up, cereal on the floor, dinner dishes everywhere, spills and splatters on the floor, and laundry...the neverending LAUNDRY...I found myself wanting to go with him.

Thinking..."Please let me go. I will do anything. Administer breathalyzers, paperwork, cuff criminals, drive the cool SUV and turn the lights on, wear the dumb vest and CB radio on my chest. Anything. And like you, I have the gift of sarcasm."

I totally wanted out of my crazy life.

Until this conversation happened...

She #3: "Mom, can I be done?" (This is the daughter who wouldn't finish her dinner.)

Me: "Just eat this piece of meat."

She #3: "I can't eat that, that is the tail."

Me, giggling: "No honey, that is not the tail."

She #4: "Fish don't have tails."

Me: "Yes they do, but not this, it is a salmon filet."

She #2: "Ooohhh, I love filet-o-fish. I haven't had that in a really long time. Can we go to McDonald's tomorrow?"

Me: "Maybe."

HA HA hA Ha HAHA Hah aha hahahaha....

And the hubby left just in time to miss all of the ~~action~~ fun.

The totally humiliated, seriously hot and tempting, rudolph-nosed,
Maid

Still laughing...can't wait to see ~~CPS show up~~ what tomorrow holds!

I am good, but GOD is awesome.

2010-01-07T00:35:00.000-08:00

All too often I end up answering this question...

"Hi, how are you?"

like this....

"Eh, okay."

Not wanting to say what is really on my mind.

"I suck. I'm doing sucky. I hate that I suck. I hate that I don't like where I am right now. I hate that I don't like my family every minute of the day. I hate that I don't live for the little moments that everyone thinks are so great. I hate that I have a ton of weight to lose. I hate that I am getting old and wrinkly. I hate that I hurt when I wake up in the morning. I hate that we are pretty much financially ruined. I hate that we are down to one car. I am really depressed that I don't have a perfect spiritual connection with the Lord right now. I don't like that people can hurt me so easily. I don't like being one that takes things so personally. I don't like that I can still remember things that people said to me in highschool that made me feel badly about myself. I hate that my hubby and I have so much to do and never enough time. I hate that when I get to spend time with him, I am always worried about the other things I should be doing. I hate that when I am doing the other things...I hate them. (Laundry, dishes, cleaning up disgusting messes in bathrooms, looking around at the ruined dirty floors, ruined furniture from years of sharpie markers and soda spills...etc.)" And... I hate that all of these things inhibit my answer to that question from being this one....

"I'm doing great."

Really...that is what should come out of my mouth every second of every minute of the day.

"I'm doing great. God is faithful. My life is rich and full. My kids are okay. We are together. We are still loving each other between the tantrums. We have a lot of fun. We laugh a lot. We eat good food and often. We live in a place where we can step outside and walk and play and do whatever we want 9 months out of the year with no regard for terrential rains, snow, blizzards and massive bouts of humidity.....and on and on and on."

Seriously.

New years resolution employed.

That is it. That is the one to hire.

You have got the job.

Yep...you're hired!

From now on, let it be...

"I'm doing great."

Why the change of heart?

Well, it is a new year. And I don't want to resolve to do all of the things I know I will fail at yet again. Call it wisdom, call it pessimism, call it whatever you want...but I. Am. Done.

So my attitude needs to wreak of gratitude.

Gratitude that maybe I am not where I want to be physically, financially, or even geographically, but this side of heaven this is as good as it gets. My kids are healthy. For now. They are here. For now. And I pray that this post is not prophetic, but at any given moment any of it can be taken away.

Normalcy could change to living in a hospital room with a sick child. Or being whisked off to heaven myself with my own illness.

The mediocrity of my life, the hum drum laundry doing, sticky floor wiping, and the plain old repetitiveness of it all could change in an instant.

I am reminded of all of this because I have been reading blogs.

All kinds of blogs.

One linked to another. That one linked me to another, and so on. I don't even really know where I have been.

Except that a curly headed little boy named Jaymun lived and died in just a couple of short years. He breathed his last breath last year. October.

Another little baby was born on 11/11 the same year as my littlest guy. She didn't even make it to her first birthday. While I was busy celebrating my boys' birthday and watching his curly cute head of hair get filled with cake and frosting, that family was aching for the same.

Then there is Stellan. Many of you know who that is. A sweet little munchkin. Fought for his life for so long. He is doing well now. Symptom free since late last year.

Of course there is Andie Grace. We went to her funeral last April, I believe. She lived 6 weeks. Tragically died of a heart condition. She was precious. My heart still breaks for her family.

I've also read about sweet little Jonah. Who is the little brother to Gabe who died when he was just 37 weeks from the same condition that Jonah is suffering through now. Painfull blisters and skin, nail, etc...conditions his whole life. If he can get through the dressing changes and stomach the feedings. Because the blisters are internal too! And his sweet mama gets to do all of that hard work and feel his pain every day.

There is Selah recording artists' The Brooks family who lost Audrey at birth. Only got to hold her for a couple of hours. (She is expecting again...a healthy baby who she will name Charlotte in June!)

And another Selah artist, Nicole Sponberg, lost a perfectly healthy baby shortly after of SIDS at 2 months old.

Another blogger, pregnant with baby number 7, lost her firstborn in a tragedy as a car plummeted through a restaurant they were dining in several years ago. They all miss her life and the "normal" of it all still to this day.

Of course there are people I know conquering battles too. Sweet Jamie and Matt, and their son Ben. He is battling Leukemia as we speak.

Our friends little guy, Michael, spent most of 2009 in the hospital undergoing chemo for his Leukemia battle. What brave parents and brothers and sisters they all are!

These are just a few of the precious people who have inspired me recently.

Do I not get it?

When will I ever get it?

My silly prayers for things that my Lord already knows I need. My petitions for wishes and dreams, protection, and even finding lost keys. Can you even believe that our God hears each of those requests and meets them as eagerly, readily, as he does when MckMama is praying for her childs very life to be spared?

Our God is so amazing. How could I not be grateful that I am here in my home scraping gum off of the couch, wiping poop off of the carpet, and washing every article of little kid clothing that hits my floor each day? These are the moments of normalcy so many of my fellow bloggers are begging to go back to.

Lord, please continue to have mercy on me! I have been given so much...and so much more is expected of me!!

Again, I know that what is normal for me right now could be washed a way in the blink of an eye. All of it. One kid, a hubby, the whole family. Life is precious.

I just pray that I could grasp the sweet breath of every day as I live it and not wish away all of my "not so perfect" days.

My 2010 resolution is simply that.

Enjoy each and every breath this year. Gratefully acknowledging the giver. And praising the Lord, that our party of 10, has 2010, together.

So go ahead and ask me now, "How are you doing?"

"I am good but God is awesome."

Straight out of Luke 6:45b

"What you say flows from what is in your heart." (NLT)

"The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks." (NIV) Luke 6:45 (in full context)

Happy New Year!

The Maid with an overflowing heart

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-25T20:04:00.001-08:00

Thanks for sticking with me...and Merry Christmas to all three of my blog readers! LOL

May God Bless your new year immensely with love, laughter, and LIFE!

The Merry Maid

A gynecologist and a red head walk into a bar, I mean Costco....

2009-12-23T23:34:00.000-08:00

I am standing in line...with my gigantic cart, at Costco...in the photo center. When a lady politely asks me...are you in line? I smile and say yes I am.

She steps in front of me anyway.

Same line, 2 seconds later. A Fred Mertz look alike (probably somebody's near retirement aged gynecologist...sorry, that is just what he looked like) walks up and says, "Are you in line?"
Same smile, same answer. Yes, I am.

He, too, steps right in front of me.

I laugh. Say audibly, "Wow."

And nothing.

Next, a blonde lady (no this isn't going to be a blonde joke)...decides to ask the same question.

So, I pulled out my taser. Kidding.

This time...sprinkling magic fairy dust...she heard me. "Yes, I am in line."

I then did what all offended shoppers do...

"Funny, those two people right there asked me if I was in line too, but they jumped in front of me anyway."

And then, I fell in love with the blonde.

"Unreal. Some people are just so inconsiderate! She probably wanted to get out of here in a hurry because that is her gynecologist and they both know that she has a flaming case of herpes."

Mwahhahahahahahahah!!!!
(I think I may have peed my pants I laughed so hard.)

I am still wondering if they heard her...and sadly, I can't get the Gynecologist/Woman dressed for a Pap Smear image out of my head. Wow.

And that, my friends, is the highlight of my holiday season thus far!

Merry Christmas!

The soon to be "Poise" pad wearing Maid. :)

I believe...and not in Santa Claus!

2009-12-20T09:47:00.001-08:00

It is the most wonderful time of the year.

I know that sounds so cliche', but it truly is.

There is just a feeling surrounding many of us...it is a feeling of hope. (Those who are saved by grace, who have a personal relationship with Jesus, and who still choose to identify themselves as Christians in a time when WE are not the most popular of people.) We walk around this empty, lonely, suffering world with hope and joy. A feeling of joy despite any of our circumstances. A desire to give because we have been freely given SO much.

It is the reason for the season...the sacrifices of Christ paired with the ultimate love of our Heavenly Father.

I realize that historians and theologians argue the actual date and time of Christ's birth. I also realize that the symbols and beloved representations of His birth (wise men, nativity scenes, etc.) are also controversial. I also heard a song recently proclaiming that it was not a "silent night." It was an interesting Christian point of view. Because I have a personal relationship with Christ, I am not concerned with the exact day he was born or whether or not wise men were there as He lay in a stable manger, or a cave, or whatever. Because I know Him personally, I can celebrate who He is and just that He WAS born. (Imagine arguing with your 90 year old grandma and refusing to celebrate when you were taught to celebrate her birthday...and instead demanding the facts line up wanting to prove the exact day she was born. Really? Does it matter. She is here. She has invested in your life and your kids' lives. She attends every holiday and remembers every birthday. She is real. When she arrived doesn't matter as much as the fact that she did arrive.) And no, I'm not equating my grandma with Christ. LOL

All of those things aside, we come together as believers to truly reflect and appreciate what it means to be who we are and to shoulder both the responsibility and the blessing of being that person. A sinner, saved by grace, through faith. Nothing we could do to earn it. Nothing we could do to have it taken away from us. Knowing we will not ever be good enough on our own merit. Knowing and trying to understand with any certainty what it means to forgiven and be granted His mercies new each day.

That is why our hearts well up with love, with gratitude, with joy, and this desire to give and share and bless and do...it is all because of Jesus.

Yes, commercialism has wormed its way in more each passing year. We become more and more concerned with what we give, how we give it, what it is wrapped in (you know it is all about presentation...we wouldn't dare put a gift in a brown paper sack..right?)...but even that reminds me of what Jesus has done for us.

He cared what was given. He wanted to meet our need. We were perishing in our own sin, our need was salvation.

He cared how it was given. He wanted us to receive it. It was given without strings. It was given not because of our having given Him something first. It was (and is) offered freely to all who put their trust in him.

He cared about the wrapping. God took care in seeing that He was born to a virgin, that He dwelt among us, that He was one who understood us and presented Himself in a way that would not condemn or threaten us, but would relate with our every struggle. He made a way. He was the way. He came special delivery.

So much of that gift and wrapping paper analogy reminds me of what I see happening around me today.

How many do we know that won't accept a gift because of pride?

How many do we know that will reject a gift once it is opened because they think they don't need it?

How many do we know that judge a gift by it's wrapping? Rejecting it before they even open it.

No matter how you package the gift of salvation, the gift of Jesus' birth...it is not a useful gift if you don't open it. If you don't receive it, you couldn't possibly understand the joy of not just this wonderful time of year, but throughout the year. Throughout your circumstances, good or bad.

We truly can learn so much about our Heavenly Father and His gifts as we enjoy the season and offer our lives as a testimony to Him and to those around us.

As I wrap up this post (no pun intended), I want to share with you that I began to reflect on all of this because of an interaction I had with someone who doesn't believe. Their words were profane, their heart hard to the things of Christ, and the very things that bring many of us joy each season were like a clanging symbol to them.

I began to get sad and to feel pity that this person would be so filled with hatred and contempt for the things of the Lord. And soon God reminded me that I need not be sad, only to pray. It was truly a choice. Choosing to accept the son of God and the very gift that has been given is a decision that each of us will have to make in our lifetime. I quickly chose to be filled with gratitude instead.

The gift of salvation is foolishness to those who are perishing.

1 Corinthians 1:18 "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God."

To have the faith and be called to accept the gift, is a gift itself.

Romans 8:30 "And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified."

And for that gift, I am the most grateful!

Merry Christmas to all of you, and may God bless you and keep you!

Sincerely,

The grateful Maid

Yep, still nothin.

2009-12-16T00:41:00.001-08:00

Fooled you, didn't I?

You thought there was going to be a new post. Well...ha. There isn't.

I just wanted to check in and let my bloggy friends and readers (all two of you) know that I have some stuff to share with all of you, but no time.

I just finished baking the goods for my kiddos to take to their teachers and am going to bed!

When the weekend hits, I will make time to talk to all of you!

(Oh, who am I fooling? See you next year!)

:) The Maid Delayed.

Content, more or less.

2009-11-30T11:57:00.000-08:00

For as many years as I can remember, December always seemed to rush in and rush out.

There is always so much to do. So many things to make, buy, shop for, return, and lots of opportunities to gather together with friends and family.

This year, I have purposed not to spend my month trying to catch up on the things I need to do. This year, I have decided to shop early and less. To spend wisely, and less. To eat yummy things, and less. (Yes I will...just watch.)

I want less this year altogether.

Less stress,
less waste,
less junk,
less conflict,
less stuff,
less distraction,
less disappointment,
less rejection,
less mess,
less illness,
less clean up,
and most of all...
less chaos.

Which brings me to what I really want more of. Yep...I want more too.

More joy,
more sleep,
more planning,
more spontaneity, (I know...I am an enigma.)
more health,
more peace,
more order,
more sparkly lights,
more candles,
more focus,
more contentment,
and most of all
more Jesus.

I believe it can be done. I believe that even though I have already purchased gifts and wrapped them, and plan to only purchase a few more...we will have less this year. My kids will enjoy clothes and a few small things. And lots of family time and fellowship and they will get to give.

We will give treats, treasures, time, love, service, and ourselves. We will spend time doing the things we love with the people we love and we won't feel guilty about it.

We will probably say no to a few things. We will hopefully say yes to a lot more things.

We will purpose to show gratitude each day.

I believe that if we do anything this month, and we don't do it with love, it won't matter.
(I know that is from 1 Corinthians 13, but it still rings true.)

So, we will show love.

And if that is all we do, that one little thing, that one thing that we can only do with Christ who dwells in us, then we will be content with that.

"Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.
I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need." (Phil 4:11-12)

So I think I will be content with a little less and a little more. And I will do it with love, because....
"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." (Phil 4:13)

Happy December Blog Friends! May this season be blessed for you all and may you be content in any and every circumstance.

Sincerely,
The Maid, more or less.

Safety first...or second, or at least third.

2009-11-23T21:26:00.000-08:00

Hello bloggers, stalkers, lurkers, friends, Romans, countrymen...

I have a question. A few actually. And, well, here is my dilemma. I don't even know if anyone is actually reading this.

1) Is there anyone out there anymore?

2) Should I close up shop and just grab a pen and start a diary?

3) How do I go from Blah-g...to BLOG! (As my friend would say...I don't want to be a blahg anymore.) I can't post often, but when I do, I want people to WANT to read it. ;)

4) Is it safe to post photos? Even if I disguise the real names and all...is it safe?

So there....I want to come out of hiding. (Well, at least with photos of my kids.)

I know so many bloggers who have proudly displayed photos of the kids and family stuff..and well, I want to join in and show off my precious peeps.

Oh, and the occasional funny picture, well, I have some doozies.

So...let me know what y'all think. Be honest.

:) The Maid

PS - If you are a sicko and want to see pictures for all the wrong reasons...go google something terminal and come down with it. I don't want you here. Just sayin.

Dreaming bigger...

2009-11-16T22:31:00.000-08:00

As a child, I remember dreaming this time of year. Dreaming big. Not just lower case big, but upper case B - I - G! I remember making my full page and a half list of all of the things that I wanted for not only Christmas, but my birthday too. (I was "blessed" to have a December birthday.) While I often missed out on getting to celebrate my birthday with my classmates, I had a great mom who insisted that my birthday would be a separate and grand celebration. None of this birthday gift wrapped in Christmas paper business....but a full blown goodie fest of an entirely different style. It was always something special. She even made me cakes. Not any cake, but clown cakes, train cakes, a 3-D Smurf cake complete with blue icing...and more.
Good times.

She made it fun. She took on a dozen kids...piled in a car (long before the mini van and seat belt laws) and escorted us to "Pasquale's Pizza"...the best pizza ever. And, pizza places back then. They rocked. None of this tokens and games business...nope. It was more like the "dimes in juke boxes" kind of rocked. And that was cool. And we had fun. Laughing, dancing, scarfing pizza, drinking (soda people, I was 9 for goodness sake), and present-opening fun. Good, old fashioned, 1980 style fun.

I would sit among the unopened presents and my mind would go crazy. In my wide-eyed little girl brain, I was already baking in my Easy-Bake oven, playing with my Fashion Dolls Fashion Plates, and dreaming up the most artistic Lite-Brite scenes you could imagine. I knew in one or two of those boxes there would be clothing. But that was okay too. Courderoy jumpsuits, knee-high socks with sandals, and velvet dresses. I would wear each and every ensemble with pride. Hair parted proudly down the middle and pulled up on the side with plastic barrettes or maybe even piled in a half pony on top. Yep, with pom poms or bobble hair bands. (I still can't figure those things out.) I was loving life. In fact, I would write all of my great birthday moments in my diary with the little lock and key that never really worked. ;)

There might even be a gift or two with cash in it. Yep...remember cash? The perfect fit. The perfect color every time. None of these plastic cop outs...gift cards. These, "I don't know you well enough to know what you like" kind of gifts. (Hey, don't send me hate mail. I am a 37 year old who loves a gift card, but gift cards for kids has become the cop-out gift. It was always so much fun to open a game, a toy, or even an ugly, but thoughtful outfit...beautifully wrapped. There is something anticlimatic about being handed an envelope with a rectangular shaped piece of plastic in it when you are 9.)

Those were good times.

At about 10 or 12, those times came to a halt. I'm not saying that I never had a good party or a great gift after the age of 12, but the dreaming seemed to stop somewhere in the early double digits and I don't know why.

Maybe it was maturity. Knowing that Santa didn't exist, and your parents had limits.

Maybe it was disappointment. Knowing that dreaming the big dreams didn't always pay off. (Like the time you got the educational toy instead of the Barbie Van.)

Maybe it was the "surprise ruiner." Knowing what you were getting before you got it was always a buzzkill. (Thanks cousin Suzanne.)

Maybe it was all three.

But something has resurrected the dreaming. Several somethings. They are 17, 13, 11, 9, 7, 6, 3, and 1. In fact, the dreaming began anew in November of 1992. My eyes were opened to the world of dreaming again.

They are not only the dreamers around here, they ARE my dreams. Seeing them happy, watching them delight in a good and perfect gift. Knowing that I get to help make their "wish list" become reality. Their joy is my business. Making even the difficult ones come true, exceeding their expectations, going one better than their dreams...that is my biggest dream. In fact, if I receive nothing tangible...this is good enough.

This year, I can't give my children their dreams. I can give them only needs. Maybe a single want. Nothing big. No big dreams. This year, I can't go it one better. I can't deliver Ipods, cell phones, designer clothing, electronics, bikes, play kitchens with fake food....I just can't. I have asked the Lord to give me what I need to bless the socks off of my kids, and it is just not in the cards this year. How can I get excited about giving my family a mediocre Christmas? They only get to be little, to be "dreamers" for a short while. Why, God, won't you give my husband work so that we can pay ALL of our bills, take vacations, buy the braces, and of course "Do Christmas" ? Still, no answer.

And then it hit me, if I, being evil, know how to give good gifts to my children, how much more does the father in heaven long to give good gifts to me?

It is written in Matthew 7:11 "If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"

All I am required to do is trust Him.

I would certainly ask my children to trust me. To trust me to know what they want, what they need, and to go one better.

And yet I have such a hard time trusting Him. Trusting Him to give me what I need, what I want, and to "exceedingly, abundantly" give me more than I could ask or imagine. How could a loving God not provide for us to pay our bills and give our children their childhood dreams?

And then I realized He already has. While we are financially bankrupt, for now, we still have a roof over our heads. We have no shortage of food on the table. We have clothing out the wazoo. (Although my wazoo is busting out of most of my clothing, I am covered.) And as far as giving my children their childhood dreams goes...they have the ability to dream. They can indulge in fantasy long enough to make some amazing wish lists.

And my delight is not to be in filling each and every request, but in just listening to them dream and dreaming with them. Sharing in their excitement at the prospect of Christmas and what new things it will bring. They will live the dream in going to special church services, worshipping Jesus, having cookie night with Granny, going to Jesus' birthday party with Grandma and Grandpa, and bringing gifts to the Angel tree kids...and many more special festivities.

Yep, as I have been listening to my kids make their lists or shout out their top 3 "wants" for the chaos that is Christmas morning, I realize that the dream is alive and well. And that my mind has once again begun dreaming the big dreams.

They are just different now. Very different.

I want...

Peace in my home.
Love in my heart.
The freedom to worship Jesus whenever and wherever I choose.
Family gathered around at every opportunity.
To reach out to people who are alone.
Warm memories and maybe some snuggles with a partially toothless three year old and a chubby one year old.
A cup of cocoa or apple cider because it means slowing down and doing things different...and that it is winter.
The health to enjoy the season.
To greet each day with a genuine smile of gratitude.

Yep, Jesus...that is a big list...what do you say, maybe we can dream these dreams together?

Love,
The dreaming BIGGER Maid

"Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4

Facebook, Shmacebook.

2009-11-04T00:45:00.000-08:00

Hi. I'm the Maid, and I'm a facebookaholic.

(*Hi Maid*)

I look around the room and it is eerily familiar.

There are people I know from all walks of life.

Even some people that were tagged from someone elses walk.

Oh, and then there is that girl in the corner, the one who always puts those dirty things on her wall. The one that I secretly judge and wanted to delete, but didn't. Because I was giving her "grace." (Christianese for "I wanted to see what else she would say or do so that I would have further gossip down the road.") Did I just say that? Geesh, I'm a mess. It's gonna take several meetings.

There were family members. Most of whom ignored me. All of whom bragged about their fun experiences in their real, every day lives. Experiences that I was never included in. Further proving that family is the ultimate "F" word.

Then there were the I'd better add so and so if I add so and so "friends." You know the ones. You added her because she was best friends with your other friend who is on her friend page. She friend requested you and you politely accepted. (Truth is you never really liked her, you aren't interested in her life, and if you really thought about her knowing the details of your life, you would hit delete NOW!)

Oh, and then...then there are the "groups" of friends..the ones where if you do add one, you take the whole group. And you truly don't know why. Because none of these people probably even know your kids names or your current marital status, but it's almost a morbid curiosity and an assinine set of "manners" that forces you to. (Maybe you see these people at church...you promise to get together, and NEVER do. Maybe these are people you see once a month. You fake it, and then move on.)

The friend list would not be complete without the blasts from the past. The ones who haven't heard from you or you from them in 15 years...and the thought of them seeing a current picture makes you have nightmares and has you reconsidering gastric bypass surgery.

Then there are the lurkers. Kind of like blog world, but you know they are there because you "accepted" them. They sit and watch, never speak. And in passing utter some eery comment reminding you that they are reading EVERYTHING you say.

Surprise friends are on there too. The ones that you thought you wouldn't talk to or have anything in common with...and they become your chatter buddies. They talk to you at every IM opportunity. Until you learn to turn the chat off. (Face it, sometimes you want to put some food on the stove in your Cafe' and you don't want to chat.)

Yet another sign that you are a facebookaholic. You have set real world timers for fake food. You have harvested someone elses virtual crops. You have bejeweled, farkled, Maffia-ed, and cafe'-ed yourself until you can barely find time for your own farm.

The disappointments abound on facebook. Those people that you are friends with in real life that publicly shame you or hurt you, the ones that blatantly talk to everyone BUT you on your page, and the ones who even have ignored your private messages! Oh, and the facebook giver...the one who gives pieces of flair, flowers, cocktails and Starbucks to everyone BUT you, and makes it public enough so that you know about it.

Yep, you know you are a facebookaholic when it is the first thing you want to do in the morning and the last thing you do before bedtime. When you put too much thought and stock in what is going on in the pseudo-friend world. You know that when you really find yourself liking people more or less because of one sentence blurbs scattered on the internet, that you have some real soul searching to do.

It is a painful and rude awakening. You realize that the word "friend" has been used too loosely. When you are tracking the ins and outs of 200+ people that go completely about their lives without you. When you had hopes that your connections could increase in a meaningful way with 200+ people, and yet, here...a year later...you have never sat in a "real" cafe with any of your cafe' friends!

Today, I am no longer a friend. As easy as a right click of the mouse, on a 6 letter word..."remove", did all of those friends disappear.

Today, I find myself suffering a pretty severe "friendship" hangover.

Facebook, shmacebook. How thou hast betrayed me.

(Not to mention made my house dirtier, wasted hours of my life, probably widened the girth of my computer chair-glued rear-end, and kept me away from the ONE who calls me friend.)

FaithBOOK, here I come.

"Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance (for me that is facebook), and the sin (making it an idol) which so easily entangles us (makes us judge, hurt, criticize, deal falsely), and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:1-2

"So then, let us pursue the things which make for peace and the building up of one another." Romans 14:19

Disclaimer: I am not condemning facebook itself. For me, as many things are, it became an encumbrance. It kept me from a more righteous calling. My family, my health, my Jesus.
This post is my experience with a real problem in my life and a real and loving God who disciplines me because I belong to Him. It is painful as all discipline is, but I continue to grow in grace of the knowledge of the Lord. (2 Peter 3:18) I am grateful that He cares enough about us all to show us even in the little things. Praise God!

The Top 10 Signs that you are in need of a "Lifestyle" change...

2009-10-27T07:58:00.000-07:00

We don't say diet...we say, "Lifestyle change."

As if that helps.

But recently, I began reflecting on this area of my life (when don't I?) and some lightbulb moments (thanks Oprah) happened to spring up. And since you can't change what you don't acknowledge (thanks Dr. Phil), I thought I might "acknowledge" all of these things here...top ten style. (Thanks David Letterman):

The Top 10 Reasons You Begin to realize your need for a Lifestyle Change:

10) You think the "Big Dress" Ruby is wearing looks comfortable.

9) You think you could rock the "naked in bed sheets" look at the Brookhaven Obesity Clinic.

8) You hate to drop things in public because that means bending your fat butt over. (And you always bring a kid with you for this reason..."honey, pick that up for mama.")

7) You contemplate having another child so that you can go another year without sucking your stomach in.

6) Even though you are the shortest person on the planet, you like the back row in pictures.

5) You no longer have to squeeze your face together when you do the "Hi, my name is chubby" joke.

4) You watch Biggest Loser for "inspiration" with tub of cookie dough and fork.

3) You have to give up your favorite pants because your thighs have herniated the fabric in the crotch.

2) You think "don't ask, don't tell" should be the new Weight Watcher slogan. (And you find that orange "hungry" character kind of cute.)

AND the number one reason it might be time to change your lifestyle.....

1) You wake up feeling as if you are being strangled by your own breasts. (Image too disturbing for blog.)

Thinking it is time for "You, on a diet." (Thanks Dr. Oz)

Honestly yours,

The ready to be made thin, Maid.

Google must die.

2009-10-07T23:25:00.000-07:00

Actually, let me rephrase that..."My urge to Google must die."

Do you ever feel like having all of this information at your very feeble and often inept fingertips is a hazzard to your health?

I do. I REALLY do.

In fact, I have a love/hate relationship with my computer search engine. I do not like that anytime I feel led, I can put in any word or phrase...or even question...and find out more than I ever wanted to know. There is just too much information out there, and well, sometimes I am just not qualified to read some of it. Do you feel me?

For example, I am a hypochondriac. I know this. And, you might think, knowing is half the battle. Well, it is not. I know I am a hypchondriac...and so I can google the symptoms of said disorder and find all of the little reasons why I am CERTAIN that I am....see for yourself:

(DEF: Hypochondriac: A person who has hypochondriasis, a disorder characterized by a preoccupation with body functions and the interpretation of normal body sensations (such as sweating) or minor abnormalities (such as minor aches and pains) as portending problems of major medical moment. Reassurance by physicians and others only serves to increase the hypochondriac's persistent anxiety about their health.) That last sentence...SO true, by the way. I have left emergency rooms after thousands of dollars of testing was done...and being told I was fine...only to say to myself, "Well, I'm pretty sure they missed it. They didn't do a colonoscopy. Yep. My spleen could still rupture." *Holding my left side* I. Am. Sick.

I can also Google, and have, any medical disorder that is mentioned on Dr. G Medical Examiner, TLC, or Discovery Health Channel. I am pretty certain that I have had strokes, heart attacks, thyroid disease, scabies, impetigo, am falling prey to Pancreatic cancer, colon cancer, breast cancer (all of the SEVERAL types that I have been emailed about...you know what I mean) and I even would guess that I have ovarian cancer right now. Because I have gas, bloating, and pelvic pain. And I often have the symptoms of IBS. Which might also mean that I have diabetes, candida, a bowel obstruction, parasites and a nasty case of the flu. Maybe even the H1N1 flu. (It is so much more fun to say swine flu, isn't it?) I ate a shrimp tonight...maybe it is the Brine flu.

So...I am not meaning to sound like I am making a big joke out of this. I realize that it is a true sickness. I worry and fret and live my life in fear constantly that any of these fears of diseases that I have googled and studied up on are currently waiting to present themselves. The only diseases that I often am able to rule out are the ones that say "unexpected weight loss."

Nope. No unexpected weight loss here. NONE. So, for now, I think I can scratch Pancreatic Cancer from my list of possible diseases.

I bet right about now, you are waiting for a reason to finish reading this morbid post. Well, let me give you one.

Tonight, I think I may have discovered a symptom that I have been overlooking.

As I was Googling (big surprise) ALS...or Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, also known as Lou Gehrig's disease...I stumbled across a symptom that I live with DAILY. (On a serious note, be in prayer for a friend of ours, we will call him "Flintstone," to protect his identity...he has just been diagnosed with this, and that is why I got scared into Googling it.)

The list of symptoms went like this:

Difficulty breathing (Check.)
Difficulty swallowing (Double check.)
Gagging (Totally have done that.)
Chokes easily (Yes...and not because I eat too fast or anything.)
Head drop due to weak spinal and neck muscles (Sometimes!)
Muscle cramps (YES! The kind that wake me up out of bed.)
Muscle weakness that slowly gets worse (Well, no, but when I had the flu..yes.)
Paralysis (Not yet, but I'm thinking not wanting to excercise is a start.)
Speech problems, such as a slow or abnormal speech pattern (Abnormal? Yes.)
Voice changes, hoarseness (Every day when I wake up! UGH!)

Additional symptoms that may be associated with this disease:
Drooling (Sometimes, when I sleep.)
Muscle contractions (Eyelid twitching?)
Muscle spasms (Nope, this is the eyelid twitching one, right?)
Ankle, feet, and leg swelling (YES...just read this post...Cankles?)
Weight loss (Darn it. Deal breaker.)

Well, as you can see...I ruled myself out...with the last one.

But here...here is the one that made me think....ready?

Some patients have trouble controlling crying or laughing. This is sometimes called "emotional incontinence."

I can finally put a name with a face. I mean my face. I have that! I TOTALLY have that. "Emotional Incontinence."

I cannot control my laughing. Even when it is inappropriate.
And crying? Well, just this weekend, I erupted in such a snot cry (you know the hysterical out of breath kind) that I had to leave the building...step outside and practice my old Lamaze breathing...that's it! Emotional Incontinence!!!!

Now, dear ones, what on earth am I supposed to do with that information?

What kind of products do they make for THAT? I mean, am I going to have to put in cry catheters? Take a laugh suppressant?

Great. One more thing to worry about. Sigh.

Seriously...if anyone sees the infomercial for the products that can spare me a lifetime of embarrassment because of my Emotional Incontinence...will you let me know? And would someone Google if the supplies for that disorder come in plain, unmarked, brown packaging? Because, after this one, I am afraid I am swearing off of Google.

Sincerely,

Your Googling, "EmoInco" Maid.
(I don't know whether to laugh or cry right now...should I Google that?)

Way TMI....seriously.

2009-09-25T00:12:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, I have lots of kids. Half and half. Half boys, half girls. I mean each child is either a boy or a girl..and we have equal numbers of each. (Not that my kids are half boy/half girls....that would be creepy.)

In that mix of children, or should I say, on top of that mix, lie two teenagers.

(Drop to your knees and pray right now, would ya?)

So, here is where it gets tricky.

I am all up in their kool-aid. Literally. I like it that way. I like to know what kind of conversations they are having and with whom. I think it is my job. I think I need to know and watch and read and snoop. I have their passwords to their facebook pages and emails and I often do text-message interceptions and read their texts. (I've even been known to text their friends posing as my child...just to see what kind of response I get.)

(Sidenote: Let that be a lesson to all teens out there...if you are texting someone...never assume it is reaching your target audience and always assume that your friends' parents are reading...because they probably are!)

With that being said, let me tell you about a recent experience I had with my, uh-hem, teenage son. Who by all accounts is an upstanding, wonderful boy who helps with the family, mops the floors, cleans toilets, changes diapers and truly...TRULY...loves his baby brothers...and for now, tolerates his sisters. (I have accepted that tolerance may be all we get between siblings for a while.) This child of mine is respectful, most of the time, and usually always to anyone who doesn't live in our house. (Unless you are a Wal-mart employee...then all bets are off. Long story.)

So, imagine my surprise, when my sweet, respectful son was having a facebook "private" instant message conversation with a friend. They were talking about their plans over the weekend and were "bragging" about who had the hotter girlfriend. They were even scheming that they would tell me one thing and do another. (Duh...not the brightest bulbs in the box...I mean, hello...I read this stuff!!!) So, I had to confront my child. I had to tell him that I would absolutely take away privileges and all of his technology if he could not learn to be respectful of my rules and be honest with me. (The "scheme" had to do with going to see his girlfriend this weekend. Which I would never disallow...except under the circumstances...she was to be babysitting and he is not allowed over there!!) We had an even further conversation about how he was not only supposed to respect my rules, but the rules of other authority figures. And he was encouraged not to do anything that would get his girlfriend in trouble, especially if he cared about her.

And then I realized that he was 16. SIXTEEN! I remember how "deeply" I cared about my boyfriends at that age. How I really didn't care so much about whether any of us got in trouble...I just wanted to make out.

I know. Shocking. The Maid used to like to make out. And I was good at it. (And sure, I might be good at it again, if I could just tune out this dog barking, kid crying, washing machine dinging, dinner burning, tv blaring, and phone ringing life of mine.)

Despite my own experiences, I pulled up my big-girl panties (figuratively speaking of course) and snapped right back into my lecture. "You need to remember that this young lady is a member of our church and that you have a responsibility to God to respect her and her family. You need to make sure that you are above reproach and are always encouraging her to be honest." Blah Blah Blah.

I was even getting annoyed listening to myself.

Why? Because...I couldn't erase the thoughts from my brain of when I was sixteen. All I wanted to do was go to parties, and date, and make-out, and do wild and crazy things. (Let me clarify...I was not into drugs, and only drank on a couple of occasions before it was legal to do so, plus I was an honor student and I played the part.) So, how did I get here? How did I get to be so "parental?" It can be such a challenge to reconcile how I lived and what I did, with how I want my children to live. (And I wasn't even that bad!)

By my sons age however, I was kissing boys. And I mean "KISSING" boys...with a capital K, and maybe a little tongue. (I know...thus the blog post title..."TMI.")

Here I have this great boy...who hasn't even kissed a girl yet. (I know this because of how he spends his time and who he spends it with, plus we have a really open relationship for the most part. And, well, I want to believe that it is true.)

I got to thinking about how I need to let up on him again and let him find his own way. How I need to encourage him, but back off a bit. I mean, I've never really read or found anything all that disturbing in his texts or conversations.

Until last night. Sigh.

You just don't realize how hormonal and competitive and downright crass teenage boys can be until you have a voyeuristic look into a "private" conversation they are having. Let's just say that the two of them went on and on about who had the hotter girlfriend (normal) and how they had to wait a minute to finish their conversation because "I gotta p**s" (tacky...but probably normal for "I gotta go pee"...I mean how cool is that to say?) and then the shocker...
"Yeah, I'd hit that."

Excuse me? What did he just say?

My son's friend just told my son that a sweet young girl that they were talking to at church was good looking enough to "hit" that.

"Hit?" I mean we are not violent people.

And "that"...what does that mean? (Yes, I know, but I had to ask him.)

It went a little something like this:

Me: "Son, what exactly does "hit that" mean?"

Son: "You know."

Me: "No, why don't you tell me?"

Son: "Like you would do her."

Me: "Do her what? Her nails?"

Son: (laughing) "No"

Me: "Well, I'm sure you don't mean THAT...as in IT."

Son: "We were just messin around mom."

Me: "I should hope so. We just don't hit. Or do THAT. You hear me?"

Son: (still laughing) "Yeah."

Me: "Wait a minute...what is this comment...where your friend says hit it and forget it?"

Son: (rolling eyes) "Mooommmm" (In an annoyed whine.)

Me: "No, really. What does that mean?"

Son: "That you would go out with her and kiss her and stuff, but not really date her."

Me: "AND STUFF?"

Son: "Yeah."

Me: (Shrinking in my chair.) "So, I suppose the whole respect women conversation went out the window...and you are just a skirt chaser now?"

Son: "I didn't say it, _____ did."

Me: "But that is YOUR friend and you had the conversation and went along with it."

Son: "He's a nice kid, we were just playin' around."

Me: "That's what I'm afraid of. Playin' around."

Son: "Mom, I'm not going to do anything stupid. I like (so and so) and she likes me and I only want to date her right now. Don't worry."

Me: (Tossing back two Tylenol) "Okay. Clean it up. You don't want any other parents to read this stuff."

Son: "Aight."

(Yes...he said..."aight" Not alright, which would be proper and mature, but he went with the more socially acceptable gangster (excuse me...gangsta) version and said "aight.")

(I don't remember living in Compton...although I do remember a brief NWA music fetish. In highschool. And maybe my first year of college. But that was long before my son was in-utero. Do you think my eggs were affected by that?)

When did my sweet little boy turn into a saggy-jeaned, skater shoe wearing, horror movie watching, and babe-bagging "gangsta?"

I mean it was just yesterday that I was making out with the 80's version of that.

Now...if all of that wasn't too much information, you should know that my 13 year old daughter announced to me this week that she became a woman (yep...aunt flow...poor baby) and that her girl parts are lopsided.

I know. If I could just find that flux capacitor I would travel back to a simpler time. It was so much easier to be the teenager than to raise them.

Sleep well, blog world. And remember, today's teenagers are tomorrows "Maids and Butlers." Sigh.

The Completely Over-informed Maid

Please press one....

2009-09-15T09:52:00.000-07:00

Dear APS,

I am writing to you today to let you know that I think your prices suck.

If that is not eloquent enough for you, let me rephrase that.

To Whom it May Concern:

In light of the recent economic downturn, I would expect each and every one of our bill collectors and/or creditors to be making some concessions to help the general public to be able to continue use of their services. I would not expect, at this juncture, an increase in the price of said services.

I realize that we live in a desert. I also realize that in the desert it gets hot. Dang hot. But it does make it just a tad bit suspicious when we go out of town for 14 days in one of the hottest months of the year and turn up our A/C to run only when it reaches temperatures of 84 degrees. Interestingly enough, during that month...the cost of my service was more than the same month last year when we were home cranking the air conditioning 24/7. My service the following month, when we were home 24/7 was also the same price as the month we were gone.

I do believe there is some bill padding going on with your company. I don't think that even a family of 10 could possibly use $650.00 worth of electricity in one month. I believe your company to be a monopolistic and greedy corporation and if I had a choice, I would switch.

This is America, darn it, and we should have a choice. CHOICE! Bring me a choice! (And by choice, I don't mean do I want electricity or not. Hello? Desert? We have to have A/C and electricity. But were there a choice, I am pretty sure that "they" would not be charging me $650.00 for one month of service. There is no "equalizing" that.)

So, in the meantime, until said CHOICE arises, I am paying my bill under protest. I have not yet begun to fight! (Okay, maybe I have. But just know, that I am one electric bill paying APS hater.)

Wishing the sweat of a thousand camels to infest your armpits,

The Maid

PS - And on a side note, could you please get an employee that I could speak with that has a half of a brain? Oh, and that maybe speaks English. Not English as a second language? Thank you.

Disclaimer: Again, with the disclaimers. I know. I know. But here goes:
No offense intended to anyone who works for said electric company. I realize you are just doing your job. No offense to anyone who has only half a brain, I realize it is not your fault. And no offense intended if you speak English as your second language. I mean you no disrespect as I speak with you and begin speaking like you. Something strange happens to me when I am listening to other people's accents...I somehow morph into an accented individual. I am not making fun of you, really.

On a lighter note...

2009-09-07T22:25:00.000-07:00

Now I have seen everything....

While on a drive with my hubby to the ghetto of our metropolis (it was for his 2nd job)...I sat patiently while he entered a CVS pharmacy. The usual creepy things were in place...the "we prosecute shoplifters" sign, the random and ubiquitous spray painted gang symbols, the "no backpacks...leave your backpack with the cashier" sign, and the exciting declaration..."We now sell bread!" Woo hoo. Because when I need a loaf, I am running to this pharmacy...instead of the 24 hour grocery store by my house. ??? (I guess if you are rolling with your homies on a drive by, it could be convenient...but whatever.)

But this....THIS...my friends was a diamond in the rough...and dang it if I didn't take a picture...because I am pretty sure that I could have had my five minutes of fame on Leno with it....

"Milwaukees Best....30 cans....$12.99" and strategically placed in bold lettering these precious words....

"FAMILY PACK"

Yep. I am afraid it is a Labor Day all time low when you gather the kids around the BBQ, inflate the bounce house, and bask in the triple digit heat....and all the while you AND the kids...share a cold one.

(What a great country we live in.)

And secondly....in case you were wondering...as I lay sick over this long weekend...unable to bounce, BBQ, and bust open a brewski....I got word of an upcoming show. One that we all might want to take a look at. Ready?

"Amish Gone Wild."

Not even joking.

It made me wonder...how wild is wild...when you are Amish.

Maybe some upcoming episodes in the works....

"Jedadiah risks jail time...by actually plugging in the Amish made fireplace." (You know you have seen those commercials. Heck, how many of you have actually ordered one...that is what I want to know?)

Or could it be this wild...

"Jakob defiles his family name...by finishing high school! Gasp!"

Or maybe the next episode would focus on the notorious Amish family and their excommunication from the Amish society....because the hubby decided to take off the hat and shave his beard...and his wayward wife dennounced quilting.

I'm sure that for the season finale...the entire Amish village goes out and buys insurance, and the village matriarch throws away the original friendship bread.

I know. I can't wait for the series either. I will be popping some corn and pulling up a piece of couch for that one.

Honestly, at this rate...anything is better than John and Kate plus 8.

Have a good week friends!
Happy Labor Day!

The Maid

Disclaimer: NO disprespect intended to families who drink beer together, those who live near the CVS in the ghetto, bread seeking homies on a drive by, and of course the Amish. Who I deeply respect but don't come near understanding. Farm on Jedidiah.

Nothing else matters....

2009-08-27T23:04:00.000-07:00

I took my family to Peter Piper Pizza tonight. I stressed about what I would be wearing. I stressed about how my girls' hair looked. Was it brushed? Was it neatly put up in a pony tail? Did my daughter have on too much make-up?

I yelled at my husband (playfully) that he had dressed my baby in the outfit I just threw in the goodwill pile only hours before. He (the baby) looked like a nerd. The two year-old cried as I "scrubbed" the marker off of his face and arms. (His spare time is often spent drawing colorful road maps all over his bare extremities.) Oh, and my furniture. My teenage son didn't want to go with us. Mumbling something about schoolwork (yeah right) and of course having to be seen with the WHOLE family. While I shook my head in disapproval as his pants sank well below the plaid plastered butt of his boxers, I was even more discouraged to see my 11 year old son wearing a shirt that had todays lunch wiped on it. (Which you could barely see under all of the dog hair.)

The dog, I might add, that has peed on my freshly cleaned carpets, pooped on my couch in front of company, and wanders aimlessly sniffing out scraps all over my kitchen. And might I add, she finds them. Big ones. Entire strips of waffle, toast crusts, and whole grapes. Among other lovely tidbits. And that is impressive, since the other family pet, the 9 month old, has usually gobbled up all of the big pieces.

I am discouraged. My body is warn out, stretched out, and sad. My house is cluttered, dirty, and tired. And well, I already described the kids. My husband is neglected. We are financially struggling and our marriage has not been nurtured with date nights, time alone, family outings, or whatever the needs may be.

All of this is overwhelming. Is it everything, well no, but it is a big part of who and what defines us. It is a big part of whether or not I feel I can hold my head high when I run into people who know me now, or who knew me years ago...it is the part of my life that I can cling to and say..."Yeah, but look at what I have accomplished. I have this great house, this immaculate place where I raise my family. I have these perfectly coiffed children dressed in matching outfits and designer collections from Gymboree...which just shout 'My mom pays attention to the details!' And let me introduce you to my perfect husband whose perfect job and our perfect marriage affords us twice yearly vacations alone!"

Throughout our last 18 month struggle with finances, kids, marriage, friends, and our own health and our own bodies, I have held on to the fact that I want that dream. I want that perfect life, those perfect children, the perfect circumstances, and the perfect person to share it with.

Today I was reminded that none of it matters. All of those things, those facades that we wear, none of it matters. We are only here for such a short time. We only have the people that God has trusted to us for such a short time. We only have imperfection for such a short time.

Why do we try so hard to run from what is so real? Why do we strive to be and have those things that would impress the people that don't matter?

Why would I rather fix my daughters hair how I think the world wants to see it, than to let her proudly wear it the way she wants it to be? Am I really that fragile that I am afraid that I will be judged by her messy head? Jesus, let it not be.

Why do we look past what is so perfectly given to us, in order to look for what has not been provided?

Today, a young woman that I personally never knew, but admittedly prayed for not often enough, lost her battle with cancer. She was young. Her family is young. They lost a mother. A wife. A daughter.

I bet they would tell me that if I had problems that money could solve, I had no problems at all.

I bet they would tell me that if I had problems that a hairbrush or some laundry soap would fix, I had no problems at all.

I bet they would tell me that instead of seeing the clothes, I should see the faces.

I bet they would tell me that it doesn't matter if my child lights up the room, but they should absolutely be my bright spot.

I bet they would tell me when it came to my family, instead of worrying about how much I weighed, I should worry about how much we played.

I bet they would tell me that instead of worrying about the dog mess, I should hear how much the kids laugh when they play with her.

I bet they would tell me that my family, my husband, and even myself, should be full of life...light in a dark place...and should be my focus from this day forward.

Not that I perform for them perfectly, but that I love them absolutely.

That if I should be called home to Jesus, they are left with no doubt. Only love.

You know what, I took my family to Peter Piper Pizza tonight.

And nothing else matters.

The Maid

PS - Be praying for the Miller family. That they are left only with love and nothing else.

Ten Truths...

2009-08-24T09:01:00.000-07:00

Okay, since I have disappeared from blogging, and have been tagged by the faboo Queen April, I believe I am supposed to confess 10 truths about me. I hope I do this correctly...here goes:

1) My hubby met me in a bar, and was instantly attracted to me as I was hugging his best friend. I blew him off. It was only a little later when he knew it was true love as I was "table dancing" on top of a huge speaker at the same bar. Aww, the beauty of such a classy love story.

2) We recently bought a dog, at my insisting, and I can't stand her now. She bites my babies with her stupid little puppy teeth and has peed on my carpet. The honeymoon is so over. Anyone want a 4 month old chug?

3) I don't have a problem turning into my mother. She is, in fact a really wonderful person...we have some pretty distinct differences and get on each other's nerves, but I wouldn't mind being more like her in some ways. What I do have a problem with is that I seem to be bypassing turning into my mom...and going straight to grandma. Who turned the music up so loud, where did this sciatica pain come from, and why do I want to put on a moo moo and walk around without a bra?

4) I recently had the distinct pleasure (sarcasm) of running in to an old highschool boyfriend...and all I could see in his blue eyes was...dang, she got fat. He left the event we were both at without even as much as a goodbye. Jerk. Yep, I may be fat, but you are still single...nearly 20 years after highschool. Standards too high or is it that you really are a superficial jerk?

5) I lost sleep over number four. I know I shouldn't care. My hubby loves me just the way I am, but I am not proud of how I look or what I have become. This was not the dream I had for my life. It is a sad day when you realize that only YOU have he power to change your life. I have been waiting all of this time for God to do it for me. I think He said that I should get up and do it myself. Sigh.

6) I am blogging right now because my house is a pig sty and I want to avoid it.

7) I have cankles right now. I never have cankles. No matter how fat I have been over the years, I have always taken pride in my thin ankles. I have either been on my feet too much, am in early kidney failure, or have crossed the fat person point of no return. Let's pray it is the first one.

8) I am a truly sucky judge of character. The people that I usually trust and confide in burn me. Often. I guess that comes from wearing my heart and my opinions on my sleeve. Or just having a really wide open mouth. Either way, I want to learn to reserve information until I truly know a person well, but I know that it goes against the fiber of my being. I am, and always have been, a what you see is what you get person. Easy to figure out? No. Easy to know where I stand? Yes.

The up side of this...people have sometimes surprised me with who they are in a good way. The person that I thought couldn't stand me...reached out and was very thoughtful and interested in my life. The person that I thought was not someone I wanted to hang out with, has become one of my closest friends. The people that I thought were living less like Jesus have turned out to be the best example of Him.

9) I truly want to run a marathon. I know that I probably never will. When it comes to excercise...I chicken out. And I think I carry a little contempt in my heart for the people who do it well.

10) I hate when people think they know me and know what I will think/do/say...when they truly don't know at all. (Just because I love humor, sarcasm, and laughter...doesn't mean that I can't be serious, spiritual, and deep. I can dig a good snot cry from time to time!)

:) Thanks Queen for tagging me...I will be poking pins in my queen voodoo doll when you set sail on your cruise in 11 short days. (Confession no. 11.....yes, I am jealous. Sounds like a marvelous time!)

Sincerely,
Your truth confessing Maid :)

This is gonna be short...and stupid. But it has to be asked.

2009-07-29T02:33:00.000-07:00

WHO took my black capri pants?

And WHO, WHO...left two pairs of women's underwear here?

I am apologizing right now for this implied profanity, but...WTF?

No one in this house of 10 people will own up. (Okay..so the cherub is only 8 months and can't talk...but he is awfully fat..so maybe he ate my pants.)

Seriously...how does a pair of perfectly good pants disappear...especially when I keep close tabs on my 3 outfits that fit me. And how do two pairs of non-matching...almost same-size-ish...women's underwear make their way into my house without anyone noticing someone leaving without them?

I even had the nerve to ask my dear butler if he wouldn't mind asking his girlfriend to return my pants and stop leaving her underwear behind.

Seriously, I don't care if the hubbs has a girl on the side...I mean if that is the sin path he chooses, well, may God smite him. But...and I mean capital BUT...could the chick have the decency to not leave the evidence behind and wear my favorite pants home?

Sigh.

Until Perry Mason solves this one...I guess it is time to buy some stupid size "uh hem" pants.

Have a blessed week,
The Maid

(In case anyone is wondering...I truly don't suspect the butler...I just can't think of another explanation. I mean HOW does other adult girl underwear get here? Any theories?)

I'm tired...of...

2009-06-02T07:29:00.000-07:00

Hello friendlies!

I wanted to start this post with a small warning. Do you see what time it is? Yep 7:30...A.M.!! I don't do A.M....so this probably will end up with some small incoherent ramblings. And for my grammar and spelling buddies who are like me and often mentally correct people's grammar when they speak, well this post very well could end up like nails on a chalkboard for you. I want to apologize up front. :)

I have been trying to figure out why I am so tired, (And no, I'm not pregnant...okay?) and these theories are all I can come up with:

1) Exhausted from all of the really deep and informational posting I did last month. (HA!)

2) Exhausted from the funny joke I just came up with for number 1. (At 7:30 a.m.)

3) Exhausted from being home alone with 8 kids while my hubby got to fly back to Kentucky for a funeral without me. (Yes, I know it is not a REAL vacation, but come on...flight (alone), family "reunion", and lots of food. Sounds like a vacation to me.)

4) Exhausted from financial craziness that is our life right now. (We no longer have a credit report, it is more like a credit rap sheet.)

5) Exhausted from carrying around this hundred pound tumor. (Okay, so maybe it is not so much a tumor as it is 15 years worth of Diet Coke, Paradise Bakery, and an aversion to vegetables and excercise.)

6) Exhausted from trying to be all things to all people. (I know, I have a lot in common with Oprah. Except the rich, black, democrat thing.)

7) Exhausted from feeling like I am doing everything badly. (Oh yes I do...I have a $2000.00 dentist bill for ONE child alone that proves it...as well as having a housefull of mouthy children with muffin tops.)

8) Exhausted from worrying about whether or not Jon and Kate are toying with us for ratings, or if they really will return to the air in the fall as: "Jon plus 4, and Kate plus 4."

9) Exhausted from wondering if that cockroach that I keep seeing in my garage is forming a secret society with other cockroaches and is planning to invade the laundry room. I just don't have near enough money in the budget for bug spray. (I suppose since a nuclear holocaust won't kill them, I should just save the moolah.) :(

10) Exhausted from a wedding and sweet sixteen party that I catered desserts for a week and a half ago. (Dude, it has been a long time since I "worked" 88 hours in a month, let alone in 8 days!)

11) Exhausted from trying to save the planet with all of my "green" living. (Okay, so I only stopped doing laundry because I was tired, not because I was conserving anything. But it so totally counts. Yay, eco-me.)

12) Exhausted from getting up early this week to take my girls to VBS. (Who decided that VBS needed to start in the a.m.? Really...because I thought we were OUT of school. Next time, just a suggestion, but can't we do like NIGHT VBS? That way I can at least catch a flick with a friend or go on a date with my husband. Haven't they heard of "ME church?")

13) Exhausted from thinking about how hard I will have to work to get rid of this 100 pound Paradise Bakery tumor.

14) Exhausted from my last effort 4 weeks ago to "Melt it Off with Mitch Gaylord." (Hee Hee, she said "Gay.") Why can't they just make a real excercise video, like:

"Try to melt it off with Fat People who WILL fall off of the excercise ball EVERY time."

or "Not so slim in less than 6." (Because really, I don't have to have the "after" photo. Some of those "before" bodies are good enough for me.)

(And you really aren't fooling me with those fake testimonials. I just wanted the 2lb "G" Ball. Really. I collect balls.) Hee Hee...she said "balls."

15) Exhausted from thinking about how many people are judging me right now since my inner twelve year old boy just escaped TWICE on number 14.

16) Exhausted from feeling guilt for not reading my Bible in a really long time. I mean, I thought about it, and it is the thought that counts, right? (I don't think that St. Peter is gonna buy that one at the Pearly Gates.)

17) Exhausted from my trip to Costco yesterday where I spent $130.00 on toilet paper, wipees, and paper towels. Oh, and a strawberry. Okay, and maybe a box of ice cream sandwiches.

18) Exhausted from resisting the urge to sample the Dog food they were demonstrating at Costco. (Not even joking..dog food!!) Oh, and the other urge...you know the one that makes you want to buy 96 batteries or a huge pack of Sharpies. (It really hurts to be broke!)

19) Exhausted from all of the mail I had to open yesterday. Who decided that you needed to send the Maid and the Butler their very own copies of each and every bill? Do you know how many trees you just wasted? (See, there goes that concern for the environment again.)

And finally,

20) Exhausted from worrying about where my favorite black capri pants went. How does a pair of pants just disappear?

Butler? Did you not like them? Where, oh, where are they? Because I am so not clothes shopping at this weight. Not at least until Mitch helps me melt off just a little more.

Anyhoo, thanks for listening...if you all have any other ideas as to why I might be so tired all of the time, well, I'd be happy to hear them. I really can't figure it out.

Love,
The Too Pooped to Post, Maid

Can we say trailer trash?

2009-05-03T23:11:00.001-07:00

I'm not one to judge...especially where one lives, but I'm pretty sure that we are headed for a tralier park.

These are just a few incidences which have me thinking so:

1) Last week my hubby hollered (yep, hollered) out the back door..."Son, get that hose out of your pants!"

2) My nursing infant sneezed, got a booger on me, and then proceeded to swallow it. (I almost threw up.)

3) My six year old daughter had to be told 10 times to pull her halter top up....her niblets were showing. (I know, halter tops don't equal modesty...but we live heatsville...so we deal with it.)

4) We had to get permission to attend my daughters school play...because her third grade sister had been suspended for beating up a fifth grade boy. (Heart welling with pride. Sigh.)

5) My six month old son is naked more than he is clothed.

6) My two and a half year old son constantly has his hand on his not-so-Oscar-Meyer weiner.

7) We take pictures of number 6.

8) My 12 year old daughter is wearing maternity clothes.

9) Number 8 is because the shirts were a dollar at Wal Mart. Now that is even scarier. (By the way....it is cute on her and she doesn't know that it is maternity..so don't tell her!)

10) My hubby uses the word..."quickie."

11) My five year old daughter stole tic tacs from Safeway. (Last night we were at a store and she asked for something and I said "you don't have any money." Her reply: "Mom, I know how to buy stuff without a dollar." Pretty soon her daddy won't be the only one with a rap sheet.)

12) Yes, my hubby has been arrested before. Long story. He did love community service though.

13) I get more excited about coupons than I do about number 10.

See? I told you. Get our double wide ready! I am gonna be queen!

Love,

The Queen Maid.

Disclaimer: No offense intended if you are a weenie grabber, a fifth grader who got whipped by a third grader, halter-top wearer, a criminal, a Wal Mart shopper, a pregnant 12 year old, or currently living in a double wide trailer. :0)

101 Things...in 1001 Days

2009-04-09T02:10:00.000-07:00

Sadly, I found the list.

I truely was hoping to have to write it off as the unwelcome outcome of a bout with some bad Chinese, but let's face it...even bad Chinese is good...and, well...everything is somewhere, as GSD says. (Greatest Step Dad...for those of you who never read this.)

So, it was in box of stuff that you throw in a box when you are expecting company. Along with other things...bills, cards, mismatched socks, my goldkit envelope (yep..I know, totally called them), and well...it taunted me from the box and I dared to read it.

I don't know exactly what methamphetamine I was on when I wrote it, all I can say is that I guarantee each and every one of you seven people that read my blog that I will not accomplish it in its' entirety. I don't even know if I will be able to completely finish typing it. In fact, I laugh as I read it now...thinking to myself, "Did Katie take over my brain for a minute, because I am soooo NOT doing THAT."

So, for those whose curiosity has been aroused (hee hee she said "aroused"), below is the mythical list...which once I type for you...I will probably burn...and most definitely ignore, but being the honorable maid that I am, well, I am true to my word (and from what I hear a bit freaky) if nothing else.

Uh hem (clearing throat)....here you go:

1) - Get my Master's Degree.
2) - Go to England to visit birthplace.
3) - Paint interior of house.
4) - Clean out garage. (Actually did this one a month ago, but it needs it again. Sigh.)
5) - Sell ebay items.
6) - Ship stuff that needs shipping.
7) - Get out of debt. (Oh, is that all? Sounds so simple.)
8) - Hang bathroom valances.
9) - Get all kids to the dentist for teeth cleaning.
10) - Get braces for 12 year old daughter.
11) - Maybe add revenue ads to blog...since I have so many readers. LOL
12) - Blog every day for 30 days straight. (HAHAHAHAHAHA)
13) - Turn off t.v. for 30 days straight. (Mybe #12 is possible after all.)
14) - Write and legalize will.
15) - Pay off Suburban and/or replace with 15 passenger van.
16) - Try meal planning again.
17) - Eat vegetarian meal once a week for 60 days. (Maybe plausible, since we have 76 boxes of cereal?)
18) - Try one new recipe per week.
19) - Send broken items back to manufacturer for replacement.
20) - Have "the talk" with 12 year old daughter.
21) - Go on a trip alone with my hubby.
22) - Read one new book per month for 3 months.
23) - Read the Bible through because I WANT to.
24) - Start and follow a walking regimen for 90 days.
25) - Clean out spice cabinet.
26) - Dedicate Baby to the Lord at church.
27) - Lose at least 40 pounds in a healthy non-drastic way.
28) - Clean out cabinets in every room.
29) - Simplify contents of house. (In process.)
30) - Visit my dad. (Or have him come here to visit.)
31) - Send one encouraging card every month to someone.
32) - Tell kids I love them every day.
33) - Read to kids more often.
34) - Fix big screen t.v. (Actually did this already! Woo hoo!)
35) - Take daughter on a girls only weekend.
36) - Replace flooring in carpeted rooms.
37) - Fix light balast in garage. (Okay mama...this one is done too!)
38) - Touch up paint areas where needed.
39) - Fix drywall holes.
40) - Have windows and screens washed.
41) - Set 5 year goals with hubby.
42) - Recaulk master bath.
43) - Organize important documents.
44) - Re-grout tiled areas. (Or have grout professionally cleaned.)
45) - Get kids social security cards. (For some reason two kids didn't get them in the mail after they were born several years ago.)
46) - Move to _________________. (The place my parents are moving to.)
47) - Take all kids for general physicals...wellness checks.
48) - Play more games - do game nights twice a month.
49) - Get computer fixed.
50) - Fix screens. (Sliding door and windows.)
51) - Make restitution in the areas I need to do this.
52) - Tithe faithfully for at least 12 months.
53) - Use everything up in pantry...and not buy new items until I use what is there!
54) - Use everything up in freezer...blah blah blah.
55) - Get rid of clothes that aren't worn and/or don't fit.
56) - Replace wedding ring. (Mine is broken)
57) - Sell watch.
58) - Organize costume jewelry and get rid of unwanted items.
59) - Clean under bathroom vanities and get rid of unwanted items.
60) - Floss every day for at least 60 days straight. (Usually good about this...gotten lazy.)
61) - Get professional camera and "learn" it.
62) - Take a photography course.
63) - Clean out all condiments in fridge and replace them. (Did that already!)
64) - Set up "Flylady" house cleaning system again and use it.
65) - Try and implement ongoing decluttering and cleaning system for 30 days.
66) - Add on shed for storage to side of house.
67) - Organize photos and memorabilia.
68) - Go on a scrapbooking weekend.
69) - Clean out craft closets.
70) - Get rid of kitchen items that I don't use. In process.
71) - Have a garage sale in spring. (Just did this! Gonna do it again in a week!)
72) - Go without soda for 6 weeks. (Ouch.)
73) - Weed out and replace old towels and wash cloths.
74) - Weed out and replace hair brushes and accessories.
75) - Clean out second freezer (Empty,turn off, and deep clean.)
76) - Go on a cruise with hubby.
77) - Host in-home Bible Study.
78) - Re-carpet and detail Suburban.
79) - Detail van and re-carpet too.
80) - Clean items on pot shelves and DUST up there! Ugh.
81) - Write a book.
82) - Throw big birthday bash for child number 5 who has never had a birthday party. :(
83) - Let fingernails grow out and get manicure.
84) - Pray for hubby every day for 30 days straight.
85) - Take oldest son on a trip for 18th birthday. (Just hubby and I)
86) - Visit one Foreign country that I have never been to.
87) - Go on a short term mission trip.
88) - Volunteer at a homeless shelter.
89) - Volunteer at a nursing home.
90) - Try doing workout tapes for 60 days.
91) - Write encouraging note to each of the kids.
92) - Meet 6 "new" friends for coffee or something.
93) - Re-work budget/bill to reduce output.
94) - Go on a hike with the older kids.
95) - Watch "classic" movies with kids once a month.
96) - Go to a comedy club.
97) - Pray at least once a week for one month for enemies/broken relationships.
98) - Re-upholster cedar chest with new fabric.
99) - Hang valance in family room.
100) - Get couch in family room fixed. (In process.)
101) - Re-decorate kids' rooms.

Phew. That is such a load off.
Now...imagine how I would feel if it was stuff that actually got done. LOL

Thanks for listening. Any encouragement you have to offer would be greatly appreciated! ;)

Your overwhelmed, under-motivated...MAID. :)

Since you all love questions so much...

2009-03-30T04:17:00.000-07:00

Just when you thought I was all kinds of freaky...and that fo shizzle I was listening to some seventies "love making" music....I pose this question to you...

At what point is grocery shopping an illness?

I mean...when you hit 3 stores in one day. Because something is free...and you don't want to miss out...something that you don't even need today. In fact, probably won't need it for the next 4 months....is that something to see Dr. Phil about?

Would he ask me if I went to bed hungry as a child or if I had some deep-seated fear of not being able to feed my babies?

Would he wonder why just a month or so ago I printed every available coupon to acquire more than 30 bottles of mustard, BBQ sauce, and hot sauce...for free. FREE, people. Do you realize that FREE is a four letter word. An "F" word at that. Not THE "F" word...but just as sex addicts are aroused by that one...I think I am aroused by the other one. FREE. (Just got chills up my spine people.)

So seriously, friends. Do I need an intervention?

Shoot...my family HAD to go on WIC, just to keep me and my FREE cereal in milk.

How many boxes are too many? 10, 15, 20?

Remember, I have 8 kids.

So will it bring shame to my already bad reputation if I confess, right here, right now, that I have... um...

76 unopened boxes of cereal in my closet.

SEVENTY SIX.

I acquired 30 of them this past week. FREE. Oh yep. I am so lit up by that word.

"Honey, get the handcuffs out...and the milk." I'm in the mood for a little threesome, just you, me, and the captain. Yeah, baby. Captain Crunch.

Bow chicka wow wow.

Apparently a little out of touch...

2009-03-30T03:58:00.000-07:00

Dear fellow bloggers and blog readers...

Please accept my sincerest apologies. I didn't realize that having handcuffs in my underwear drawer placed me firmly in the "freaky" column. Even rendering the queen speechless. I had no idea that it was THAT out of the ordinary.

Lest I be misjudged, misquoted, and otherwise labeled incorrectly...let me clarify.

Chris H...The handcuffs have not attributed to our family size...unless you count them as an act of prevention. Sometimes you just have to hog tie the hubby to get him to leave you alone. LOL

Katie R...My life must not be near as exciting as yours...I can't even think of anything blogworthy to write about. You, on the otherhand, do something at least once a day...often more...that sends you running to your keyboard to share with all the world. Excitement rocketh not my blog.

Bogart...Much to my dismay, pink and fuzzy they are not. Cold, plain, metal. Therefore...sitting in my dresser drawer...NOT being used. (Had we had the pink fuzzy ones...we might have 16 kids instead of eight....in fact, I think the Duggar family is marketing their own set of cuffs right now.)

Queen April...You have run into crazies at the gas station more than once, work in the land of the fake boobies, have past acquaintances with prison records, and handcuffs leave you speechless? Wow. Happy to oblige. ;) Just wait until Boo comes home with a belly piercing, tatoo, and a boyfriend with a "Shaggin wagon." LOL :)

Sandra...Dear, sweet, Sandra....rather than leaving you scratching your pretty red head, and wondering if you do REALLY know me...let me clarify...they were from a bachelorette / bachelor party. Wedding gag gift.

So that is the big secret....the handcuffs were not a "Hey honey, let's go up to the Castle and grab us somethin' fun...." kind of thing. They were GIVEN to us. Geesh. I would never spend my money on something like that.

I'm saving up for the love hammock...that hangs from the ceiling.

(I really hope you all get that this is SARCASM!)

Love,
Your not-so-freaky, totally misunderstood Maid.

So not ready for this question...

2009-03-25T22:38:00.000-07:00

I realize I haven't been around on this here blog for a while, but my only excuses are uninspired, overbooked, and overtired. I guess 7 kids and an infant will do that to you. ;)

So...I will leave you with this one little question that my 5 year old daughter asked me this past week....

"Mom, why do you have handcuffs in your underwear drawer?"

uh,

uh,

um... (I think I have it!)...

"Oh, honey, that was from a Halloween costume one year."

Phew. Narrowly escaped that one.

Now, I am just waiting for her to figure out that we don't celebrate Halloween.

The Maid

PS - Hope you all are well...sorry to have been absent so long. To the faithful, keep checking back. My juices are flowing and I feel some really mediocre writing coming on. LOL

(What? If I had said "Great writing" you all would think I was conceited. So keeping true to form, and ever so humble, I had to write mediocre.) Wink.

Stop and smell the roses...or at least look at them!

2009-02-16T02:58:00.000-08:00

I have a really bad habit. (Well, several, but that is a blog for a different day!) I let things pile up and do them under pressure. Anything and everything, really. I always wrote the most amazing papers for school...the night before, sometimes the hour before, they were due. I get down to my last pair of undies, and throw in a load of wash. (Or ten.) I fill my gas tank when it is running on gas sweat. You know, the stuff that drips off of the real gas. Gas sweat. Or perspiration if that offends you. :) (Seriously people...I ran out of gas this past week, while idling next to the pump! I was so grateful...the butler would have been ticked to come and rescue me when it was simply stupidity!) I prefer to think of it as economizing...using every last drop of gas. And for my Christian friends...we call it good stewardship.

So, knowing this about myself, I try to map out my list of things to do and write down what I should do on which day. It is a great thought. A GREAT thought. And that is where it ends. Because when I should be crossing off the completed items on say Wednesday night, I am crossing off the unfinished items and transferring them to Thursday. Then Thursday, I cross them off and put them on Friday. Yep...a list maker and a procrastinator. So what happens when I am trying to do Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday's stuff the night before the Friday event? I don't sleep. At all. I stay up all night and try to accomplish it all. Wonderwoman I am not. In fact, I think I am more like Blunderwoman. Ultimately, the list gets finished. And if it doesn't, it gets altered. Hey, I am so not above lowering my standards.

So what is my point? Oh shut up, I was getting to that.

I had a light bulb moment tonight. When I was wandering through Wal-Mart...at 2:00 in the morning. (I ran out of baby wipes...and that is one thing that will send me to the store in the middle of the night. Why did I run out? Because, silly, my kids poop. A lot. Oh, and I was supposed to go to Costco for wipees last Tuesday, then Wednesday, then...do you see the problem?)

Sorry, back to the light bulb moment. I have decided that our nation's retailers are doing this to me. They are taking away the roses. There is absolutely not a moment to stop and smell the roses and maybe not even an opportunity to look at them with the way that our stores are breezing through holiday's these days. This chaos that I used to thrive on, that used to help me get things done...is doing the opposite to me in my old(er) age. I am almost rebelling.

You see, tonight I wandered down the Valentine aisle, looking for clearance treasures (don't worry, didn't find any)...and there she was...that tramp...EASTER, staring me right in the face. What the heck did she do with the short, green, beer drinking guy...you know, the Irish one? Did the midget get ousted by the bunny and the cheesey plastic grass? (Oh, sorry...the PC term is Little People, geesh, I should know that. The Roloff's are one of my favorites!)

And guess what? It gets worse. After I had spent 20 minutes in line, (apparently 15 other people couldn't sleep either) I walked past a brand new display of **get this** Back to school stuff! Hello? We haven't even finished this school year yet? A fresh supply of white board markers, pens, pencils, folders, paper, pencil boxes and more...ready to be "stocked up" on. People...I still have heartburn from the red and white Peanut M&M's from that naked dude in a diaper.

So that is my pet peeve of late. No more enjoying the holiday, having down time between them, and enjoying the prep time before the next holiday...nope...they are just squeezing them all into a holiday blob. Pretty soon, it will simply be "MerryChrisPatricktinesweensgiving." Seriously. They don't want to miss a merchandising moment...so much so, that they have just started moving all of the holidays closer together. Completely squishing out St. Patty's day to bulk up on Easter sales. Same thing after back to school sales end...bust out the Halloween merchandise and gloss over Thanksgiving for Christmas.

This is the world that doesn't let us slow down. The world that wants us to always be thinking ahead to the next big thing we have to plan and do and shop for. Not even one moments time to enjoy our summer with a sense of accomplishment...nope...put away the swim diapers and foam noodles (if you didn't get them right after New Year's...you may have missed your window of shoppertunity) so that the people don't forget that back to friggin' school is only 4 months away!!!!!

I'd better go...St. Patty's day is a month away, and I haven't even purchased my fourth of July stuff yet!

Sigh.

The Maid

Now we are intimate friends....

2009-01-28T21:02:00.000-08:00

Newsflash: I am busy. And uninspired. Therefore, I log on to facebook occassionally (read: every day more than once a day) to read about the uninspired things that other people are doing. (Laundry, school, "Oh, look at me, I just ran a marathon." Whatever.)

So, someone on Facebook tagged me to write 25 random things about me - and I thought..."Oooh, a lame, uninspired "filler" for my blog." So here it is:

25 Random things about the Maid: (This should hold you over until I get off of facebook long enough to find my list of 101 things in 1001 days! Wink.)

1) It took me more than twenty minutes to figure out how to do this. (Facebook is a mystery and tool of wonder.)

2) I have a Bachelors degree.

3) I pity the person who thinks they are better at Tetris than me.

4) If I wasn't pregnant or nursing a baby most of my life, I still probably wouldn't drink often. I don't hold my alcohol well, it makes me feel sick...and I don't like the taste of most of it. Margaritas and fluffy girl drinks are about my speed. (One at a time)

5) In light of number four, I'd rather eat my calories than drink them...alas the chocolate cake butt that I have carried around for at least 16 years. (Can I blame the teenager?)

6) I may or may not have gone pee in a parking lot of a hotel in my youth.

7) If it wasn't judgemental to say it, I would say that I hate judgemental people. I think that biblical discernment that you use in making your choices is one thing, but judging other people based upon their behavior or circumstances or even their appearance is LAME! I wish I was more like Jesus in accepting and seeking out the people that were different than myself and that needed His love the most!

8) I have been judged more than once. They were wrong.

9) I am the only child my mom had...that is why she made me have 8 grandkids for her. LOL

10) I don't ever want to be pregnant again.

11) I don't know how to cook. Really. I hate it.

12) I love going on dates with my husband. Especially when we have an adult babysitting and we can really relax.

13) Number 12 happens about once or twice a year.

14) I love listening to my 2 year old talk. He is amazing. And wild. And crazy. And funny. And a huge hazard to my health. (Did I mention he is wild?)

15) I don't like vegetables that have been cooked. (Unless they are in a crockpot with a roast...then they are yummy because they taste like meat.)

16) Every time I shop for groceries, I end up throwing something away. I hate that. (It is usually a vegetable.)

17) I have been told by my mom and my husband that I "have no compassion" when my kids get hurt. I wish they understood something about me - that it is how I cope...if I see that someone is hurt, I get scared and start thinking about the worst case scenario. When they turn out to be okay, well I am truly glad and relieved that they are okay, but then I get mad at them for being stupid enough to get hurt and making me worry. Make sense? (See, I really am a good mom. LOL)

18) I want to move where there is snow and rain along with the deadly, scorching, horrible heat we live with. Okay, I could live without the deadly heat.

19) I have lost 250 pounds. Unfortunately it has been the same 10 pounds 25 times.

20) I think that stretchy denim is one of the best modern inventions. (Read number 19)

21) I wish that Obama was not signing Pro-Choice documents and using tax-payer dollars to fund abortions.

22) I hate it when celebrities decide to play politics.

23) There is nothing quite so wonderful as clean sheets on your bed after taking a hot shower and putting on your pjs.

24) I want to get my master's degree and teach.

25) It truly is a sad day when you realize how fast time is passing you by and you have not accomplished all that you dream about. That being said...let's get off of facebook (computer/blogging) and get busy!

Laying it all out there...

2009-01-17T23:13:00.000-08:00

Several bloggers I know have made lists of 101 things in 1001 days. I actually made a list on January 1st, but thought I might keep it private. I thought, maybe, that it was personal and something that was really nobody's business. I also thought that, by keeping it to myself, I would save myself an embarrassment or apologies if I didn't get around to those things.

Well...I have decided to lay it all out there...publish my list on this here blog and hopefully find support and friendships to spur me on!

As soon as I can find the list, I will post it.

Sad, huh?

I have a new list:

1) Find list of 101 things in 1001 days.
2) Type and post list on blog.
3) Hit the save button.
4) Hope the list "does" itself.
5) Medicate with food when I discover it doesn't.
6) Sigh.

:) That oughtta hold you over until I find said list. HA!

The Maid

PS - Anyone seen my list? Oh, and Sandra...I already checked under the bathroom rug.

Tattling

2009-01-12T22:00:00.000-08:00

Have I ever mentioned before how much I hate tattling?

Just a couple of things I have heard today:

1) "Mom, _________ just told me she is going to fart on my bed."

My loving reply, "well at least you aren't in it, honey."

2) "_______ just picked her nose and ate it."

My response, "good, now I don't have to feed her dinner."

And as I ponder the day I have had, I can't help but pray for the future spouses of these delicate little flowers, these ladies. (And I use the term loosely.) And I might just throw a prayer up to heaven for myself...because somewhere in this house are the boogers that didn't get eaten. (I think I just threw up in my mouth.)

Sigh.

Happy New Year!

2009-01-04T01:12:00.001-08:00

What a wonderful time of year! We can look forward to God's promises and a fresh start!

I want to encourage everyone to not only make resolutions in your physical world...but to do so in your spiritual life. God's word says in 1 Tim 4:8 "for bodily discipline is only of little profit, but godliness is profitable for all things, since it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come."

I have begun to realize as each year passes by, how very little our time is here on earth. With the passing of each of my children's birthdays, holidays, and school years, I come more to terms with the fact that my wish lists (i.e. resolutions) are quickly turned to regrets. Things I wished that I had done, improved, attempted, said, or prayed about have become my bucket of expired wishes. I don't want to live that way anymore. I really hope to tackle 2009 head on! I want to leap into the year with joy and enthusiasm, hope and faith. (Just a quick add on...I've begun to notice my own birthays are passing at the speed of light...and I feel as if not only does time fly, as the saying goes, but time also marches on...MY FACE! Can we say wrinkles boys and girls? But, back to my joy, hope, blah, blah, blah.)

This year, in fact, I think I will keep my wish list simple. Intentional. Things that I want to be and do well, not a list of physical changes I want to make to the person that God made me. In fact, most of you would agree that if we live intentionally for Christ, we will want to take care of the vessel that God gave us to tool around this earth in and the physical resolutions to get fit, lose weight, clean up our act, drop a bad habit or two, etc...will all take care of themselves.

I figured if I wanted my year to go better, I had to do better. So my list of 31 flavors...one for each day of every month...is below. I hope you will be inspired to try just one thing on the list yourself. We can make 2009 our best year yet!

Here are some of the maid's wishes from the happiness hotel: (in no particular order)

1) Support missions and missionaries in a meaningful way.
2) Kiss my kids, every single one of them, every day. (Yep, even you, teenager! Sorry.)
3) Say yes to my kids about something every day. (Just to the right things.)
4) Begin new family rituals...and make them special.
5) Unplug the phone at dinner.
6) Unplug the t.v. for a week.
7) Laugh every day! :)
8) Pray expectantly.
9) Give something away every day. Sometimes it will be a smile, sometimes a gift.
10) Hold my baby. A lot. He won't be little for long.
11) Don't think about house work while holding my baby.
12) Sing or put on music an dance when doing house work.
13) Sing and dance for no reason at all.
14) Stop yelling. Unless the house is on fire.
15) Complain less.
16) Worry less. (Eventually, maybe not at all!)
17) Don't compare myself, my life, my kids with anyone else...be uniquely me!
18) Learn to truly forgive myself and others.
19) Talk less, listen more.
20) Cook, bake, and eat without guilt.
21) Do everything without guilt! (Everything that God wants me to do, that is!)
22) Tithe faithfully.
23) Support and trust my husband more.
24) Take no for an answer. (Don't try to control/manipulate anyone.)
25) Say no...and let that be good enough. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. (Except floss.)
26) Express gratitude every day...and don't forget to send thank you cards for kindnesses.
27) Begin and end my day with Jesus.
28) Get my Master's degree. Or at least start it.
29) Do more things out of love and not because I have to. (i.e. Serving my family, etc.)
30) Enjoy the journey. (I can do all things through Christ!)
31) Don't talk about people negatively.

That is a lot to chew on. I know. I am having a hard time swallowing it all myself. But guess what? I know I can do it. I also know that it is worth doing. My kids might just look back one day and remember me as that Godly, loving mom that had a gentle and quiet spirit...but I would settle for kids who called me on Mother's day. So...here goes my attempt at being the change that I want to see in the world. (Thanks Maya Angelou.)

Happy New Year!
The Maid

My Christmas wish for you...

2008-12-23T23:28:00.000-08:00

Okay, so this was a poem that I wrote and included in a select few cards last year (this time of year..most people "can't handle the truth!")...I know many of you would appreciate this...so here goes:

May you find the best parking spot while out shopping,
May your hubby pick up on the hints you've been dropping.

May your presents be perfect, your spouse do the wrapping,
May your children not need any holiday slapping.

May your hearts fill with love, your homes fill with laughter,
May your husband not try to "get anything" after. (Wink.)

May your kids go to sleep, and you not stay up late,
May your in-laws get stuck in a storm out of state.

May your houseguests all come with their arms full of wine,
and do every last dish on which they did dine.

May your cocoa be warm, may your cookies be sweet,
May your hips not remember a darn thing you eat. (Amen.)

But most of all, friend, may your holiday season
Be filled with the savior who gave us the reason!

Merry Christmas Bloggers!
The Maid and Butler and family!

The 12 Days of Christmas...Acapella Style!

2008-12-15T08:34:00.000-08:00

We really enjoyed watching this last year...and many of you have already seen it...but it is awesome so watch it again. And thank me later.

:) The Merry Maid

Merry Barfmas! Oh, and Happy Chunkikah!

2008-12-12T03:00:00.001-08:00

Hello everyone! I am alive, despite blog rumors of my death. Don't pay the ransom!

What have I been up to you ask? (Humor me.)

Well, I have been enjoying holding the most precious baby boy (and most probably the last) I get the privilege of raising! He is beginning to really respond and smile. He raises his little eyebrows and is beginning to know his brothers and sisters. It is priceless. I even think he is trying to talk to me. I'm pretty sure he said I was beautiful. Either that or "Your boob is full." Haven't figured it out yet.

With him comes lack of sleep, newborn doctors appointments, circumcision appointment (ouch), midwife appointments, lots of shopping (you always run out of stuff when you are too sleep-deprived to plan ahead and to disorganized to be able to find the stuff you have!), a little bit of sleeping, oh, and throw in a little case of the flu. (So far not the baby or myself, but about half of the kids have had it now. 24 hours seems to be the extent...praise GOD!)

We are half-way through the month, and my list of "to do's" is a mile long. (As I'm sure yours is too!) Sadly, lots of my items are basic cleaning items. Like how it would be nice to walk into and through the garage to get my Christmas pitcher and serving dishes without needing a tetanus shot or the ability to run and jump over hurdles.

I'm enjoying this season with my precious Christmas Gift (he is now over 9 pounds...woohoo!), and also enjoying the simple things. It is amazing what can happen when you really can't spend money! I feel as if the pressure to buy, shop and give is OFF. And the interesting thing is that I am probably the one who puts the pressure on myself in the first place. We have picked up a few things (VERY few), but for the most part, we are just hoping for a Christmas miracle. LOL. (Remember, my sweet butler is a commercial real estate agent.)

Instead of things and tangible gifts, we are trying to give each other experiences this year...memories! Some good, some lame, some really bad...but when you add them all up...it is REAL. It is what life is about. It is what makes you laugh!

I have memories of Christmases past when things weren't perfect, but they were memorable. Like the time I was in Jr. High or High School and I had baked my brains out...and just collapsed on the floor proclaiming to my mom..."I hate Christmas." Again...all that baking agony...self inflicted! I also remember a time about 4 years ago, when we delivered a plate of goodies to a neighbor on Christmas eve and she opened the door, rolled her eyes, and said..."Oh god, not more junk." (Her husband was mortified and thanked us, but we learned that they were one house we could skip next time! LOL)

And I'm sure we all have memories of making Gingerbread houses on tiny milk cartons or from store bought kits. (Those darn things never work right...they are always baked funky and don't fit together the right way. Where can I file my formal complaint? Santa?)

Since I missed posting at Thanksgiving, let me just tell you a few things that I am so thankful for right now, despite our pitiful financial status:

1) Coupons. Dude...I have been "saving" so much money on groceries and miscellaneous items we need, that I could call Sally Struthers and sponsor a child.

2) Christmas music. I am loving the sweet, peaceful music that is on all over the place...and the occasional dose of "Jingle Bell Rock."

3) Lights. I love the twinkling of the lights all over the place. It just makes the nights feel special and come alive. I can't wait to drive around and see more!

4) People in Santa hats. I love hats, and I love when people don't care if they look absolutely stupid.

5) Fire pits. I can't wait to fire up a log or two and act cold and roast marshmallows!

6) Giving. Not only do I like to give, I love to watch as other people give. People just seem more generous this time of year. (Except the dirt bag who cut in front of me a Costco the other night. I waited patiently for my spot and rather than wait behind me, the bimbo went around me and "cut" in line. Merry Christmas lady, that one is a freebie...next time I will bruise your ankles with my cart.)

7) Speaking of generous...I was at the grocery store and a lady (customer) asked how much my total was and gave me a $10.00 off coupon for my order. Just because she wanted to. Do you realize what a blessing that was? My family will eat cereal with milk for free for a week because she was so thoughtful. Yep. Wanted to hug her, but that would be weird. (Unless you are Will Ferrell...Buddy the Elf could have pulled that off.)

8) Candlelight Christmas service at church. Love that. Nothing more beautiful than watching how one flame, one candle at a time can light the world. Literally. It only takes a spark people...don't you remember the campfire song? We can share the love of Christ and light the world. (Oh, and I also like to play with the candle wax at church. I know, not supposed to, but when else do I get to hold FIRE in the sanctuary?)

9) Packages and Christmas cards in the mail. (Hey, even if the package is simply the Christmas cards I ordered...it is fun to open the mail this time of year...I might even send myself a Christmas card.) (Correction...it is fun to open "CHRISTMAS mail" this time of year...it still sucks to open the bills.)

10) Food. I know. It is shocking. The maid likes to eat holiday treats. Even crappy store-bought ones. Slap some green icing on it and red sprinkles, and I might even eat broccoli.

11) Anticipation. I love the planning and anticipation that goes into this time of year. With that sometimes comes disappointment, but it is part of the season...and I don't ever want to stop feeling that hope and "what if" feeling on Christmas day!

12) Magic. Whether you believe it or not, there is magic out there this time of year. People who give what they do have...and better yet, people who give what they don't. Caring about other people...it should be how we live every day, but it is just amazing to see it happening all around us. It is magic....mix all of the smells, the tastes, the feelings, the twinkling lights...and voila! It is the equivalent of fairy dust!

13) Indulging. I love that this time of year I can offer a sweet and yummy treat to someone and they almost always get giddy and gladly accept...and EAT it! None of this, "I'm watching my figure....cholesterol...weight...blah, blah, blah." People eat dessert...know what that means? I don't indulge alone! LOL

14) Kids. It never ceases to amaze me what my kids do, ask for, share, don't share, want to give, and how excited they get. I hope that never stops!

There is so much more that I am thankful for and look forward to at Christmas...but I will end with the absolute best of all....

15) Jesus birth! Because of my faith...I rejoice that Jesus, Messiah, Emmanuel....was born in a manger all those years ago and lived a sinless life and ultimately paid the price for my sins. Talk about a gift! I am grateful and I pray for Jesus to stir that gratitude and faith into every moment of my holiday.

Merry Christmas bloggers!

More beds to make...

2008-11-15T14:51:00.000-08:00

Greetings Blog Friends! :)

The day has come, the time has arrived, the boy is here!

On Tuesday, 11-11-08, at 2:58 a.m....Little Mister Maid was born. He was an 8 pound, 10 oz miracle boy with lots of dark hair and a cute little chubby face. He was born in the comforts of home (born and comfort don't belong in the same sentence, however.) by a very talented and wonderful midwife and friend. We chose a name that means "Man of Prayer" or "Full of goodness"...and have already given him a nickname! :) He is wonderful!

Woohoo!

We are absolutely blessed and grateful for God's precious gift and look forward to watching him grow up into a spectacular little man! Thank you to all of my friends in blogworld who have been thinking of and praying for us!

Next, let me just say how extremely grateful I am that all of this birthing stuff is OVER! :) We have moved on to the recovery phase. (Which sounds like a homicide investigation doesn't it? You move from rescue to "recovery"... when loosely translated means looking for bodies not survivors.) Well, that is where we are at now. Trying to sum up the collateral damage that has been done to my body! LOL

It is curious that mom's can forget the pain and discomfort and all of the little symptoms and annoyances of pregnancy and birth...and opt to do it again. I have done that so many times before! But something changed in my heart, soul, mind and spirit this time. I do NOT want to do it again. I am fully aware and fully experiencing all of those little pesky aches, pains, and just plain nuisances that are associated with the before, during, and after of childbirth.

Not to mention the frustration of being mentally willing and able to do something that your body is too pooped to do. I confess that 24 hours after giving birth I was walking through Target with the Butler...getting newbie his very own fresh, new carseat and stroller. Can I get a giant slap across the face right now? Duh. (This is where I would be telling all of my friends..."You just gave birth woman...go home and rest. " Not smart!) Yep. I stood there checking out at the register and began to realize that I am not a young chick anymore and I needed to go home and stay home...for at least a week! LOL.

And might I also mention that trading in a nice round, firm pregnant belly for the flabby mess of mom-tummy...not so much fun. I mean, I envisioned morphing into the supermodel body of my dreams, as sort of a reward for carrying the precious life I just birthed. I mean fair is fair, right? But no such luck. It will be months, maybe years, before I can wear a bathing suit...or anything that isn't black...again. (Good thing you all know how much I love black.)

In the end, however, it is all so extremely worth it. As I look at my precious boy, and marvel at his perfect features, his sweet temperament, and his God-given ability to know how to nurse like a pro when he was just minutes old...I am reminded of the sanctity of human lives...little or big, white or black, perfect or flawed, wanted or unwanted. If only every baby would have someone to look into their eyes and promise to love and protect them...they deserve it! Thankfully this boy made the journey from the womb to the world, when there are so many that don't. God is good, and this Maid and Butler are so very grateful!

Democracy Rocks!

2008-11-04T07:20:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I am 39.5 weeks pregnant...do you hear the discomfort in my voice? :)

Still no baby yet...and after delivering my last baby 10 days early...I was hopeful! But, this child is either waiting to find out what his name will be before he comes out, or he needs the results of the election first!

We waddled up to the voting place today...at 6:10 a.m. Did you catch that? I have not been sleeping...at all...and actually had breakfast at 4:45 this morning with my husband and we went to go vote. Of course, I was thinking we would be some of the first few to get there and would be out in no time. Wrong. People the sun wasn't even up yet and there was a line about 50 people long.

Still, why does it take so long for people to vote? Do they get there and read every line on the ballot? Didn't they practice at home? LOL

Seriously...we have been decided on 95% of the content of our ballot for months now...and all we had to do was fill in the bar with the black magic marker and VOILA! Get your sticker and get the heck out of there!

So why on earth is it such a long process for some people? Are they coloring within the lines all perfectly? Are they reading and re-reading the propositions to make sure no one pulled the ole switcheroo on them? Or is it a really long game of eenie meenie minie moe? I don't get it. From the time I plopped my ballot down in the little stall, it took me about 2 minutes. Do you hear that slow pokes? 2 MINUTES! In fact, I suggest that they have a time limit on this deal. If you haven't finished after 5 minutes, you should be ejected and your vote shouldn't count. Yep, that is democracy MAID style. Get in. Make the beds. Freshen the towels. Get out.

If I had been thinking clearly, I would have faked labor...and tried to get to the front of the line!

At any rate, I waddled out to my car, and drove away proudly wearing my "I voted today" sticker to proclaim to all the world that even though I am a frumpasaurus right now...I still have the same rights, privileges, and convictions to support my country. The same rights as that guy who was on his cell phone the whole morning making himself soud really significant. (Dude, get off the phone...the world can carry on without you.) Or that lady who was all decked out on her way to some really important job, no doubt. (Why do these kind of people always look annoyed that they have to stand with the "public" in such a humiliating display of mediocrity?) Or what about the lady who was on the phone asking the caller to tell her how to vote? (If I was that ignorant come election day, would I want the entire line of people to know it? Um, big no.)

Yessir. I still have the same rights while boldly wearing that sticker as each and every one of you....

Free coffee at Starbucks.
Free ice cream at Ben and Jerry's.
Free donut at Krispy Kreme.

Yep. Democracy rocks.

"I voted today."

Now gimme my donut.

The Maid

Waiting on the Lord...

2008-10-24T09:41:00.000-07:00

I don't like the word wait. Or the word weight. But when you are 38 weeks pregnant and ready to deliver any day now...well, they are both four letter words in my book. I'm not just talking that dreaded "waiting room" experience where you sit and try to pretend like you aren't completely miffed that you are not being tended to already...and that your doctor/dentist, whoever, totally overbooked their day! I am speaking of waiting on the Lord, however, which can be just as "painful" for lack of a better word.

This has been a year of great waiting for us...waiting to see what the Lord does is such a difficult task. I have had such a hard time committing things to prayer and waiting. And waiting. And, yep, more waiting.

My husband made a job change this year that we thought would be a good one. That still remains to be seen. We are waiting for God to give us wisdom in that area. We are waiting for something awesome to happen there. "God, can you hear me?" (Me, tapping fingers impatiently.)

We tried to sell our home this past year...for a variety of reasons, all which seemed logical and seemed to line up with what we thought would be God's will for our lives. And, yep, you guessed it. We waited. To no avail, no buyer, nothing. So after 8 long months of waiting, hoping to sell and hoping to make some exciting changes...we pulled the plug on it. That was about 5 months ago, and we still sit here wondering why we didn't sell and waiting to see what God does with our home and in our current situation.

This has truly been a year of waiting. At this point, things don't look good. I'll confess. My husband is facing a decision about his very career. One that has served us well for 8 of the last 9 years. We have been truly blessed. He loves what he does, but it is becoming increasingly clear that change is coming. And I'm not talking about Obama.

As we wait for the Lord to direct us, and for that decision to be made, whatever it is, it is almost as if I can hear the second hand on the clock ticking every moment of every day. It is becoming louder and louder and ascending into what sounds like a ticking time bomb to me. Maybe it is my current physical state (uh-hem, superpregnant) that makes this seem so loud and intrusive in my life right now, but waiting for something to happen in almost every area of my life (physical, spiritual, emotional, financial) has become all-consuming.

As a woman, I need safety, security, stability, especially when a new life will be on our doorstep in a matter of days. The only comfort I have is knowing that what I can't see, God can. What I don't know, God does. But I shudder to say this out loud, and that is, I don' know how much comfort that brings me right now. God feels far away. In the waiting there is such a deafening silence.

God promises us that for those who wait upon the Lord their strength will increase. That being said, I must be getting stronger every day! LOL

In the meantime, if you believe in a sovereign God, say a prayer for this maid. It is getting harder to push my cart through the hotel these days...and you can just forget about me fluffing your pillows. You'll be lucky not to find me sleeping in them! :)

Sincerely,
The Over-"wait"-ed Maid

The truth shall set you free...

2008-10-11T07:47:00.000-07:00

Okay...so for the couple of you who actually tried to figure out via my last post what may have been the real deal, here is a quick reveal for you:

The lies are:

1) Flew to Hawaii with Raul. (I know, it is not that far-fetched, right? Except for the fact that I don't have a pool.)

9) I went four days without a shower. Eeeeewww. People, come on. I can not even stand a 48 hour showerless existence! LOL

12) I lost $200,000 in the stock market. However, we have lost about $200,000 in equity in our home. Suck a duck.

15) I bought a pair of Jimmy Choo's. First of all, I wouldn't even know where to shop like that, second of all...I already have over 50 pairs of shoes...so I think my hubby would shoot me!

17) I saved enough money with coupons to pay my car payment. That would require quite a mountain of little clippings I tell you.

24) I washed my car, by hand. With 7 kids, I assure you I will never wash my car again. What do you think I birthed all of these people for anyway?

28) I started training for a marathon. Some day I would like to...as for now, my marathon will have to consist of get up, shower, clean, laundry, sleep. Sigh.

****

Okay, so the funny part is...I asked my husband to figure out which ones were true and he didn't even get them all right! He actually thought I could have saved $629.00 in coupons to pay the car payment. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Interesting tid-bits about some of the truths are:

* We did have to boil water to wash dishes. Can you believe that? Why do you think I was plotting the demise of the Home Depot general manager? It took them over a month to replace a broken dishwasher (4 months old) that nearly burned my house down! The boiling water...well, what they fail to tell you between picking up the old dishwasher and bringing the new one is that in that 7 days you can't use your hot water. Oh, and that there would be water damage under the sink from them failing to close off the right lines/hoses or whatever! Do you see why I might have told an orange apron wearer that I wanted somebody's _____ on a platter? (I'm still bitter, I know. Pray for me.)

* Yes, I did find a Benadryl that tastes good. It is a melt on your tongue strip...vanilla mint. Sad, but true. At this stage of pregnancy...Benadryl is in my arsenal of OTC meds.

* I did get two pedicures in less than 30 days. I have the best mom on the planet...both were gifts from her! Woohoo! (Now if I could just find that pool boy to peel my grapes for me.)

* I did shred paperwork that for some odd reason I had saved since 1988...one of my first jobs...paystubs, tax returns etc. The sad thing is that I worked for $3.65 an hour and thought that was a great job! (My teenager is bummed that starter jobs in our area for him would only pay about $8.50 an hour. Smack. Him. Would. Ya?)

* Note to self: Shredders burn out. Quickly. I only got 9 garbage bag fulls of shredded paperwork before having to bury ours.

* I did tell a store employee that his store was yucky...disclaimer: I said worse than sucked. This is a PG blog, however, so I won't tell you what I really said! (In case you are wondering, it is a store where they have fork-lifts and orange aprons.)

* I routinely do 2-3 loads of laundry a day...more when we have excess sheets and towels to wash. So...sadly, that is a true story.

* I also, despite my disdain for the iron, did press some shirts and pants for my dear hubby this month. He has taken on a second job (yep...real estate is not cutting it lately...poor guy) and I see very little of him. Which means...I try to do more to make his life easier...and he has relaxed his standards as well...he LETS me iron for him. I truly stink at it, but I think he figures he'd rather have an imperfectly ironed shirt and another 30 minutes of sleep! LOL

* I did (tear) throw away (sniff, sniff) my favorite pants. They were warm up pants (black with red and white stripe on the sides) and they had seen me through many years and almost two whole pregnancies. Can I get some sympathetic soul to play taps for me on their bugle? I mean it was a really hard loss to grieve...one that only someone who hates to shop for clothes and who has had a "favorite" pair of pants could understand. (Have you ever loved a pair of pants so much that you would rather keep your legs crossed and wear them with holes anyway?) See. I told you. Sad.

****
Thank you Betty and Happy Mommy for your educated guesses! ;) You guys were darn close!

And Betty, please don't stop liking me because I actually did steal money from my children!

Happy Mommy...well, I am sorry to burst your bubble...but I did gain 2 pounds in 30 days. My pregnancy weight gain has been 11 pounds to this point (36 weeks) because I can't eat a lot of things I would love to eat when I'm pregnant...it stinks! (Heartburn, nausea, and all of those wonderful things....see what you are not missing? LOL) Oh, and since I have enough fat stores to feed the Gosselin sextuplets, I don't think that the baby is missing out! LOL!

Love you guys! Happy Happy Weekend!

The Maid (Who cannot see her feet anymore!)

How I may have spent the last 30 days....

2008-10-02T09:02:00.000-07:00

I realize that when I started this blog, that I posted more frequently...and probably more coherently...but let me assure you that underneath this tired, maxed out, pregnant mom, zombie facade, there still lies a sharp, detail-oriented, eloquent, and sometimes witty mind. I am just sleep deprived and overwhelmed with life. (Yeah, I know, cry me a river.)

Because I am currently wading in the shallows, well, expect nothing more from this post. A little look into what may or may not have kept me from posting a whole lot in the last 30 days. Much of it is truth, but see if you can guess which of the 30 statements might be just a little white lie...

1) I flew to Hawaii for a glorious vacation with my pool-boy, Raul.

2) I ate 90 Tums...give or take.

3) I went to traffic school. (Duh)

4) I stole money from my children.

5) I sold and shipped a bunch of crap on ebay.

6) I gained two pounds.

7) I had to boil water to wash dishes.

8) I discovered that I like the taste of Benadryl.

9) I went four days without a shower.

10) I learned about calcium content in various types of milk.

11) I developed a love/hate relationship with cable news.

12) I lost about $200,000 in the stock market.

13) I just cracked up about number 12, as if.

14) I plotted the ultimate demise of the general manager of Home Depot.

15) I bought a pair of Jimmy Choo's.

16) I got two pedicures.

17) I saved enough money with grocery store coupons to pay my car payment.

18) I shredded paperwork from 1988 to present.

19) I killed the shredder.

20) In a fit of disgust, I told a store employee that his store sucked.

21) I lost at least 100 hours of much needed sleep.

22) I realized the only gold medal I will ever own is a bag of flour.

23) I cut 4 out of 7 of my kids' hair.

24) I washed my car...by hand.

25) I did over 90 loads of laundry.

26) I ironed for my husband.

27) I threw away my favorite pants.

28) I started training for a marathon.

29) I baked at least 5 dozen cookies.

30) AND I have been kicked from the inside on a daily basis.

***So whatcha think? Which ones do you believe? Hint: there are more than five, less than 10 little white lies. :)

Have a great weekend!
The busy, tired, and lying Maid.

How to spend 200 dollars and 5 hours...

2008-09-18T22:52:00.000-07:00

I know you are expecting something really great.

Like a drive to cool country just for an elegant meal, or a relaxing day at the spa.

Sadly, a couple of weeks ago, I thought the BEST way to spend my Saturday was to go to traffic school. (See my confession here.)

So where do I start? Let's see...how about the fact that the closest traffic school that met my court date requirements was 45 minutes away...oh, and it started at 7:30 a.m.

Did you know that there was a 7:30 in the daytime? Dude...I thought the twilight one was it.

So being that I am the insomniac who stays up for a nightly infomercial fix (really), I knew that I would have to FORCE myself to bed by midnight. I know, it is just so early. So, I watched what I ate and drank, got into my jammies and brushed my teeth. I crawled into the nice cool sheets to soak up my 6 hours of sleep before I would be ripped from dreamville prematurely.

This is where I would love to tell you that I drifted off quickly and easily, had sugar plum visions, and woke rested to the sound of singing birds. Yep. Didn't happen.

I layed there. All. Night. Long.

I tried to sleep. I counted sheep, said hours of prayers, and even tried to go potty one last time.

Nothing.

I tossed. I turned. I itched. I scratched. I sighed. I moaned. I cried. I was SOOOOO frustrated...because I knew...KNEW...that I would be tired and cranky and so not into the fun and educational day of Defensive Driving Instruction. (Dripping with sarcasm.)

Well, dawn broke...as it does apparently every day while I am blissfully unaware...and the lighter it got, the more obvious it was that I was not going to get any sleep. So I did what any good student would do, I got up, showered, complained to my husband, got dressed up (yep...just in case I could persuade the instructor to let me go early), and kicked the dog on my way out the door...at 6:30 a.m. - A. M. - A. M. PEOPLE!

(Oh, and we don't even have a dog...so in retrospect, I'm wondering who I kicked?)

What is one inclined to do when traveling to an obligatory day of interaction with the socially inept? (I'll get into them later.)

You guessed it. Sonic. You have to drive through Sonic.

Breakfast burrito and Diet Coke with that amazing ice. I might even be able to stay awake until 10 with that stuff.

So I get my Sonic, painfully aware that I am sitting in the very stall that I slammed into with my Suburban months prior, when the happiest species of perky young female skates out with my goods. Wanna hear her words of wisdom? "Have a nice day." Yeah, I know. The nerve.

My thoughts begin to scream at her..."Do you know where I am going, dear carhop? Do you?"Traffic school. I think I would rather be rolling car to car delivering breakfast burritos and legal addictive stimulants. I was encouraged by her pluckiness, but not enough to actually tip her. I feel bad about that now, but give me a break, I was on NO sleep...okay? And pregnant. And hungry. And totally uncaffeinated at that point.

So as I pulled out of Sonic, probably muttering something pathetic, I was on my way. Well, my 45 minute drive took almost an hour...and I was stressed. I had been told to be there on time, because they might lock me out if I wasn't . Because that is the way the people who run these things work. They are of the "tough luck" mentality. You got busted, pay the fine. You are late, reschedule. We don't want your interruptions...just your money, right?

Just a quick question for you? Why is it that when you are in a rush...you hit EVERY red light? Every single one. Oh, and you don't see stuff...like the poor construction worker I nearly plowed over when I whipped a frantic right turn. I'm sorry dude, I didn't see you. (Gave him the sorry wave...Do you think he saw that?) Get off me. (He even stepped into the lane I was driving in to watch me drive away... I am convinced that another ticket is in the mail by now.) Sigh.

So I pull into the parking lot of the massive church that the instruction was being hosted at just in the nick of time. It was 7:28 a.m. (I still am so proud of myself that I got somewhere, showered, dressed, and make-upped...all before 7:30)

Sadly, it took me 10 minutes to find the dang classroom...there were a gazillion buildings and finally I found a campus map and walked through the classroom door.

I did not find an instructor speaking, teaching, and otherwise beginning a class...no I found about 60 people in a room...looking incredibly bored and pathetic as they waited for the lone Traffic School guy to check in and register every student. Yep. It was a classic case of hurry up and wait.

I stepped in line behind this tall guy...who was carrying his gym bag and was bragging that he had already been there for hours playing basketball. (Dude...shut up.) Like I was supposed to be impressed. (Okay, I was a little impressed, not about the basketball thing...but he was up...early. Apparently there is a whole world out there of people who actually wake up early. Puzzling.)

All the while that this guy is chatting with me, he is scanning the room. No doubt looking to see if his day wouldn't be a total waste of time...checking the room for babes. Seriously, could he make it any more obvious? And I know I am totally pregnant and married and everything, but what am I? Chopped liver?

So as we near the registration table, we begin to put a face with a voice (the one that has been shouting at us for 20 minutes to have our checks and our tickets ready along with our drivers license...oh, and make sure they are all facing the same way...yada yada yada). It is a skinny, greasy, retired face...who somehow thought he was a stand up comedian. I don't know what is worse, the fact that he thought he was funny, or the fact that he was a realtor and tried to sell us all a house. (Seriously...put in a plug for his business...nerd.) His catch phrase seemed to be "Work with me People," when he wouldn't get a laugh...he said it. I think I counted about 50 times.

Now as a mom and wife, I am no stranger to boredom. Let me clarify. I realize that there are things that have to be done...over and over and over. Things that don't exactly excite, but you just do them. Traffic school was one of those things. But can I just reiterate how incredibly boring it was to sit through one hour and 40 minutes of rules, introduction (of himself mainly), and the mundane reading of each and every ticket...outloud...to the class. Uh-huh. It went a little something like this:

"Oh, here we have a 42 in a 25...near Star Valley. Does everyone know where Star Valley is? You don't? Let me tell you...."

"Oh, and here is a red light ticket...in Peoria. Oh, and no proof of insurance."

"Do you guys realize that if you don't have your insurance or registration...you can get multiple tickets?" (I know, he is a genius. I learned so much.)

So it went on like that for over an hour. I never thought the trips to the restroom to go pee would be the most exciting parts of my day.

Being that I am in my third trimester of pregnancy, one of the issues I'm plagued with is hot flashes...I tend to get really hot and need air. So thankfully, we were in the Senior Aerobics room (not even joking) at this church...the blessing was that there were oscillating fans everywhere. Just one small glitch. They were not turned on.

So as I am dying of heat, I am scheming. "If I could just get one of those things to blow on me, I might survive this Traffic Survival School...or whatever it is called." So I discreetly get up and wander to the back of the room (which the instructor has given us all permission to do...get up walk around, stretch...just don't leave). Being the brilliant maid that I am, I see some stacked chairs at the back of the room and a fan. Oh yeah. Bring chair A to fan B and I am set. So I get all set up and then I do the brilliant part...plug in and turn on the fan. (Picture this, I am a good 15 feet back from the very last row of students...so I really am not disturbing anyone...yet.)

I say yet, because, apparently all of the fans in the room were from the paleolithic era. And, well, when the discreet maid tried to turn it on...well, if you can imagine the most annoying humming/buzzing sound of motor trying to start...oh yeah. I'm pretty sure that EVERYONE in the room turned and looked at me. Ordinarily I love attention. I pretty much would have rather taught the class than sit through it, but picture the type of people that were in the room with me:

- Young, old, fat, thin, nerdy, your typical narc, your rebel, and other social outcasts.

All of those people glancing back to see WHO was making such noise...and why.

Turn around people. I'm just trying not to pass out...wait a minute...maybe that would make this thing go by faster.

Well, as Mr. Know it all shared with us during the class (you all know the type...the type who has to interject something relevant and what he deems interesting at EVERY pause), at least we only had to endure a total of 5 hours and not 8 hours. The classes used to be 8 hours until some unlucky state legislator got a ticket and had to sit through the class. He vowed to write legislation to reduce our "time served" to a more reasonable punishment. Thank the Lord above for that guy's ticket and the beautiful legislative process (Hey, we may not be able to balance the state budget, but we can get those poor traffic survival school folks out of the pits of hell)...I mean we were there until almost 1:00 p.m. and I was foaming at the mouth.

So after all eyes were off me, I found myself in the interesting position of being able to watch everything. It was great. I had my private fan and seat at the back of the room...and a view to boot.

Here is what I saw:

*2 older ladies who got up every 15 minutes to stretch. I mean it was as if they were embarking on a jog...bend, touch your toes, reach over your head to the left, to the right...oh sit down already.

*Old guy with a pocket full of almonds...yep. Oh and apparently a bad sciatica...he was up and walking and stretching for almost the last two hours...eating his nuts. I mean the almonds. And if that wasn't bad enough, at one point he bent over...spilling those bad boys all over the floor. Did he pick them up? Nope. He just tried to discreetly kick them into a pile in the corner? What the heck? Dude, didn't yo mama ever teach you to pick up after yourself?

*Mr. Basketball, who plugged in his laptop (he wanted people to know that he was more than an athelete, I suppose) and his ipod to charge. He was constantly looking around trying to make eye contact with people and rolling his eyes out of boredom. He was making friends with body language...twas quite interesting.

*Mr. Know-It-All, who decided that he wanted to change his name to Mr. Narc. Yessir. He raised his pathetic hand to address Mr. Greasy and said this: "Um, will you tell this guy over here to get off his laptop and his ipod? He is really distracting those of us who are trying to pay attention."

Oh - yes - he - did.

The funny part is that I was the eye in the back of the room and as he and Mr. Basketball argued in front of the teacher over that...all I could think of was: "Ooooh, fight at recess."

And I know who would win...it would not be Mr. Narc. Seriously, for the last hour of the class, the songs from West Side Story began to run through my brain. I guess I was ready for a rumble.

*Mr. If I Wasn't Married. Okay, disclaimer: I am happily married to a handsome and wonderful loving guy, but this wasn't about me...this was about this guy. You know the type...if I hadn't been wearing a wedding ring and wasn't obviously pregnant, this was the guy that I know would have asked me out. Not because I am all that or anything, but because he gave me all the signals. Eye contact, smiles, more eye contact, watching me walk out of the back of the room, watching me walk back in, more smiles, and even a friendly exchange at the end of the class to see if I would bite. (After all, as I explained earlier...I had gotten dressed up...my toenails matched my shirt and my shoes...and I had full on hair and make-up that day...I probably was one of two women that day who showered! Note to self: next time wear sweats and a pony tail.)

So as the day came to a close, and Mr. Greasy Real Estate Agent/Instructor was handing out our certificates of completion (why is this necessary? It is not like we graduated or anything.), I found myself wishing only one thing...why couldn't I be an A. You know...in the alphabetical sense. My last name is unfortunately towards the end of the alphabet...and I was waiting...and waiting...for my stupid name to be called so I could go the heck home. Yep, we always want what we can't have...why couldn't I be an "Anderson?"

Better yet? Why couldn't I have avoided the darn ticket in the first place?

This was my day at traffic survival school...and that is exactly what I did...survived it. Be warned my friends, photo radars are here to stay. They are everywhere...so drive carefully, and if you happen to go to traffic school, take my advice and find a seat in the back, pull up a fan, bring a really big Diet Coke, and just watch, giggle, and learn.

I may not be any wiser on the road...but work with me people...I survived traffic school. (T-Shirts coming soon.)

Questions for you?

2008-09-12T12:27:00.001-07:00

1) Why is it that the minute the sheets are clean or the toilets are scrubbed, someone pees the bed or barfs in the toilet?

2) Why is it that the minute I buy something that I have been needing or wanting to buy, it goes on sale the next day? And when will I learn to save receipts and make my returns promptly?

3) Why is it that the idea of pregnancy is so much more fun than actually going through it?

4) Why is it that I can look at my kids and love them even with boogers, but someone else's perfectly spotless child gets on my last nerve?

5) Why is it that daily devotionals, daily story-reading to my kids, and daily family mealtimes so often get replaced with McDonald's, reality tv, and a glimpse through a magazine?

6) Why is it that so often when you get what you want, you find out it isn't really what you wanted?

7) Why is it that even though it is not humanly possibly, each year we long to create a perfect Norman Rockwell Christmas?

8) Why is it that we always want what we can't have? (i.e. - snow in Arizona at Christmas!)

9) Why is it that no matter how much money we make, it is never enough?

10) Why is it that I can be out of the house for 8 hours and never once have to go pee, but the minute I walk through the door of my bathroom I nearly wet myself trying to unbutton my pants?

11) Why is it that even though I am not naive, I want to believe what people tell me?

12) Why is it that the first and last bite of something always taste the best?

13) Why is it that no matter how careful we are, we seem to always have vegetables to throw away when we clean out the fridge?

14) Why is it that even though I know I won't use them, I still cut coupons?

15) Why is it that the laundry is never done?

These are the things that are rattling around the Maid brain today.

What questions do you have?

To All the Blogs I've loved before...well, almost.

2008-09-08T18:32:00.001-07:00

Dear Happy Mommy...

Hello blog friend. I wanted to address you in a quick post because for some time now, I cannot read your blog. Every time I go to your site, it pulls it up and then goes straight to your background fabric. I cannot read the content of your page. I have tried from my home computer as well as our laptop, and I don't know why I can't see it. :)

I wanted you to know that I have tried to come visit, but for some reason cannot. ??
Let me know if others' are having a problem too.

The Sad Mommy,
The Maid

**********************
Dear Bunch of Bullers...

Haven't seen anything new in a while, and haven't had a comment or email from you in fo-e-va.
Are you still alive? Or are you trapped under something heavy and cannot get on the computer?
Since I can't get out to Tennessee to make sure no more runaway cars have encroached on your property and maybe struck you or your muffins in a ditch, please check in with me.

Deeply concerned,
The Maid

***********************
Dear Queen April...

Please. Slow. Down. I cannot post as often as you...and you are starting to make me look bad...especially to all the Bunco babes who might actually read us both. LOL

Oh, and it wouldn't hurt to see a comment from you again. After all, you are the one who got me started on the whole "comments are crack for the blogger" thing.

Eating your dust,
The Maid

************************

Dear Bogart...

I know that you are busy running all over the country with your cookie-baking bride-to-be, but haven't seen you lately either. Do I offend? I mean I showered just yesterday.

And when are you going to get married already? Inquiring minds want to know.

Married misery loves company,
The Maid

PS - If the butler reads this comment...I am not miserable...it was a joke.

*************************

Dear EplusT...

Quit reading books and tell us another funny story. Like the time you thought you gained 10 pounds and must be dying...only to find out it was your scale malfunctioning.

Turning on the tv now to be less like Jesus,
The Maid

**************************

Dear Julia (My bloomin' life)...

Your last post (over a month ago) suggested that you had four ticks on you...that you were tired...and that you had some health issues. Are you okay? I mean, the ticks alone would have sent me over the edge. I hope you are not neglecting your chickens too.

Worried,
The Maid

*************************

Dear Poop and Boogies (William)...

I am pretty sure that the reason you have not stopped by lately is that you are still flirting with the geriatric sample giver at Costco...when you have a minute to visit me, leave me a comment...even if just to tell me what aisle the honey was on...if not, well, I will tell you where to put your 5lb can of honey, honey.

Sincerely,
The Maid

****************************

Dear Coffee Bean...

I know that you recently started a political blog, and it must be so time consuming, but if I can come and get sucked into almost daily political debates (snore) with your bloggy friends, and actually enjoy it, then you can come by and leave a computer kiss. I mean, you have become the ambassador to the bloggy nation. :) (Smile and wave, elbow - elbow...wrist - wrist...)

Conventions are over...come on down,
The Maid

*******************************

Dear Almost Paradise...

Blog. More. Often.

I enjoy your writing...even if it is sometimes about American Idol...and your professed love for the one who "brought chubby back."

Requesting more of you, in a good way,
The Maid

**********************************

Dear Malinda...

You are awesome. One of the few homeschooling parents I know that actually seems to enjoy it as much as your kids do. When you are not busy being supermom, superteacher, and superprayerwarrior...stop by and visit. (If you can peel yourself off of facebook.) LOL

Inspired by you,
The Maid

***********************************

Dear Katie...

What can I say about you...how about you make me some muffins or something and deliver? I mean, since I am not inclined to actually cook for my family, and since you are organized enough to have everything done on time...well, bring. me. muffins. or cookies.

Okay, I'd settle for the occasional comment.

Super pathetic comment seeking,
The Maid

**************************************

Dear THE REST OF YOU....

Well, what are you waiting for. Leave me a comment.

What you say? You need a topic? Okay, answer this:

"How many pairs of underwear do you own? And is it enough?"

That ought to be interesting.

So not washing YOUR underwear,
The Maid

**********************

Oh, and Dear Chris at Diet Coke Rocks...

I recently read a post about your new underwear, where you actually took photos of them all pretty and neatly laid out on the bed...so I know I could go find the photo and figure out the answer myself, but humor me and answer the question if you dare. :) LOL

Hope your fanny is fantastic now. And that you are all settled after the move.

The Maid

Give me the stage for a day...

2008-08-31T22:47:00.000-07:00

I love music. I absolutely love it. I am also a lyric junkie. In fact, my teenager recently downloaded an application for me to apply to be on "Don't forget the lyrics," because after watching me master the lyrics from show after show (where, I might add, I have won millions of dollars from my living room)...he thought I should try it live. Well, this Maid is a little camera shy...and won't be signing up for any tv shows, but I really do know I could rock the show and win big! Just ask my son!

So the point that I am getting at is this: I think I have been ministered to by the Lord more through music in my life than through sermons. Even when I read God's word, I often encounter scriptures that have become familiar tunes and the tune kind of takes over. I actually find myself able to memorize verses of scripture more easily when set to music. (Probably lots of you are like that...I think that is pretty common.)

At some point in my life I want to write lyrics. I want to be the author of the music that inspires others and that ultimately God uses to bless people. I have written a couple of songs...or should I say God has written them through me (since I know the way that kind of writing often flows is a gift)...but I haven't been given the actual "music" to them. (One song was inspired by a friend who took the spotlight in Hollywood, and kind of let the Lord take a backseat to the glamorous life...and the other was inspired by the backlash we experienced as a result of leading our nephew to the Lord. It was kind of an "angry" rock song...with a positive message. Which kind of sounds ridiculous...but it was all about how we'd rather face persecution from people we love, and lose their love, than to fail the Lord's commandment to share His love.)

But let me tell you, if I could have written this song, I would have. And if I could be Natalie Grant for a day, and belt this one out, I would sing it to anyone who would listen!

Over the past few weeks, this song has blessed me. It really sums up what I have gone through this year. A mixture of what I know, what I feel, how I've acted, how I've failed, and the victory that is mine because my savior has promised that though I WILL stumble (not IF), He won't let me fall. Praise God! And how awesome it is of God to let another person (through music) remind me that I am not alone in this struggle. (And neither are any of you!)

Read this sweet bloggers...and then turn up your speakers, click the link below, and ENJOY!

I have been a wayward child,
I have acted out,
I have questioned sovereignty,
and had my share of doubts,

And though sometimes,
my prayers feel like they're bouncing off the sky,
the hand that holds me won't let me go,
and is the reason why:

I will stumble,
I will fall down,
But I will not be moved.
I will make mistakes,
I will face heartache,
But I will not be moved.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand,
I will not be moved.

Bitterness has plagued my heart,
many times before,
My life has been like broken glass,
and I have kept the score
of all my shattered dreams,
and though it seemed,
that I was far too gone,
my brokenness helped me to see,
it's grace I'm standing on.

I will stumble,
I will fall down,
But I will not be moved.
I will make mistakes,
I will face heartache,
But I will not be moved.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand,
I will not be moved.

And the chaos in my life,
has been a badge I've worn,
and though I have been torn,
I will not be moved.

I will make mistakes,
I will face heartache,
But I will not be moved.

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
all other ground is sinking sand,
I will not be moved.

"I Will Not Be Moved." By Natalie Grant

If you have a comment to share about the song, the lyrics, the video, the content, whatever, please do. It is so awesome to hear that I am not stumbling through this crazy time in my life alone. I would love to pray for you! :)

The Maid

Thank you for being a friend....

2008-08-25T01:57:00.001-07:00

You know who you are.

You are the one who calls all of the time. Even when I don't answer...you persist. You make sure that I am okay. Your timing is often perfect, but even when it is not...your friendship makes up for it.

You are the one who spent almost three hours on the phone with me. In that time I experienced laughter, tears, sarcasm, humor, commiseration, encouragement, Godly advice, wisdom, love, depth of feelings, nurturing of wounds, more sarcasm, joy, pain, flushing toilets, and well...just plain old good company.

This is the friend that when I say I need to go, hears the cues in my voice. The shaky voice that says, "I think I might cry, and I don't want to embarrass myself." This is the friend that pleads with me to not hang up, but to talk. I didn't even know that I wanted to talk about it. I didn't even know what "it" was. Apparently, I needed to talk. And she wanted to listen.

The good kind of listening. The kind that affirms, encourages, equips, and loves. The kind of listening that instead of saying..."Maybe you should....blah blah blah"....says this..."Your plate is full. You cannot accept that on your plate. You cannot take on one more thing, emotional, spiritual, physical. What you have to deal with is enough...and God will take the rest from you."

Why do I forget that? Why do I forget that when I feel I have nothing left to give...that I am doing all I can, doing more than I can, that God is waiting for me to ask for help. Not only to ask for help, but to say..."Lord, I'm not going to accept that on my plate...You didn't put it there...so please take it off."

You know, he does it.

His yoke is easy, and His burden is light.

Why do I forget that?

I think it is because I fall into comparing myself with others. Or maybe I don't want to let anyone down. In the end, I am letting down the most important people of all by weakening myself and my mind with the lies of the enemy. The enemy that is saying, "You are not good enough. You are not doing enough. You are not doing a good enough job." Ouch. All of those things bombard me daily.

God has not commanded that I master all things, only that I take all things to my Master. He wants to be the one to order my steps. He wants to be the one to give me my value. He wants to complete me, as I seek Him.

Thank you dear friend for reminding me that just because something is said, doesn't make it true. Thank you for reminding me to take my thoughts captive. Thank you for reminding me to weed out the crap, turn it over to the Lord, and carry on. Thank you for reminding me that my God wants to not only lighten my load, but carry it for me.

I love you.

The Maid

Church would be great, if it weren't for the people.

2008-08-18T02:20:00.000-07:00

This is going to be short...and sweet.

Sweet for me. To get it off of my chest.

If it is not so sweet for you, well move on. I mean this blog is my place to dump, so I encourage you to all sift as you read. Or leave. (In love of course.) :)

My pastor is awesome. He often says things that just resonate deeply.

He wasn't there tonight, but the one who filled in was just as great.

The message tonight was an encouragement...that when we want someone to disappear because they are bugging us...they don't fit our little mold for a perfect life or they are a nuissance in some way, we often just want to ignore them. He suggested that those are the times and the people that are screaming out for help the most. The people that need Jesus and for us to show the love of Christ the most. Awesome. True.

We do need to overlook the transgressions of others in love. Period.

But what about when those people are already Christians? Do we apply the same standards? I say absolutely. The people that we do "church" with every week, that are friends or acquaintances of ours are capable of hurting us. Often. Our pastor often jokes that he as a shepherd has experienced the painful bites from his very own sheep.

And so have I. Sheep bites. From fellow sheep. Sheep who sit under the same tutelage of the pastor/shepherd. Sometimes the bites are playful bites. You know they aren't intended to harm, but they do. (Example: "Hey, you guys just gonna keep having kids until you get your own Discovery Channel tv show?" or "Are you working on getting your own zip code?")

Yeah. Funny. Ha. Ha.

Sometimes the bites are deep. They leave marks. They leave deep wounds.
(Remember the friend post?)

But the conclusion that I have come to is something I have known for a while, but just seem to keep getting lab lessons in, is this: When you live in a fallen, sin-filled world, there is no safe place. Not even your church. There are not safe people. Sometimes you cannot even go to church and worship peacefully. The sheep are there...ready to bite.

So what has our pastor said that has left a lasting impression? Well, my husband and I have often thought about leaving our church. Starting fresh somewhere else. Joining a fellowship where we can go to church and be a little more anonymous. We can get in and worship and get out. Without the dumb comments. Without the painful memories. Without the flock that has left it's mark on us. What our pastor has said is this: "Church would be great, if it weren't for all of the imperfect people there." Oh and this..."If you find a perfect church, by all means, don't join it...you will just mess it up."

So that is where I am at right now. I love our church...it just feels like some of the people there take the joy out of it. Why does it have to be that way? Why can't people just accept you as you are...and love you...for 90 freaking minutes each week. I am not even asking them to socialize outside of church...just smile and nod, an occasional hug, and...MOVE ON.

Why do people feel like they have to point out your flaws?

Do they not know that we have a degree in that? Yessir. I know which areas I really struggle...I don't need you to point it out. I am learning about grace and forgiveness and overlooking sin...and that kindness leads to repentance...why aren't you learning that? (You biters know who you are. Not saying that any of my blog readers are biters...just throwing that out there.)

Yep. Church would be great, if it weren't for all of the people there.

PS - Don't ask what caused this post...I won't say. I am working on overlooking transgressions...duh. See how spiritual I am? (Tongue firmly planted in cheek.)

Seven days makes one weak.

2008-08-10T13:23:00.000-07:00

We have all seen that saying before.

Usually plastered on a church marquee. Inviting you to come in and be refreshed. Okay, so maybe it said something like this:

"Seven days without God makes one weak."

And let me tell you...especially if it is the week before school starts.

Can I just admit how ready I am to send the squealing estrogen monkeys back to school...along with their brother? And who says you have to be 5 to go to kindergarten...I mean I have a perfectly capable 4 year and 8 month old daughter whose mother would really benefit from her being in school.

This past week has been a challenge. Eye rolling, fighting, screaming, tantrums, slacking off from chores, and making demands. And the kids have been worse.

Call it boredom, togetherness syndrome, the heat, whatever, but we are all ready for them to go back to school.

Which makes me wonder, why on earth did I ever want to homeschool all of them? At once. I blame the hormones. It takes nothing short of a miracle these days for me to make it through the day with a song in my heart and a mouthful of encouraging words. ("Good job honey, wow what nice handwriting (on the wall), could you turn up that program because I really love the Cheetah Girls?")

Not.

So I am truly looking forward to the new year. The smell of fresh crayons, new backpacks, and the air of excitement...it will be such a great day. Until they leave.

I know, it sounds stupid, but I can't wait to plant their little butts on the school bus and blow a kiss, but the minute I walk back into the house...and it is a little quieter, and I am left with my daily responsibilities without a dose of "Why can't we have McDonald's?" it will be strangely sad.

I still enjoy the kids that will be home with me, but the chaos that makes me so crazy also makes me feel normal. I know where everyone is. I can hear them.

Put those people on a bus, and...well....I worry.

Will they make it home safely? Better yet, did they even get to their classroom today? (I mean who else out there worries that some pedophile could have them half way to Mexico before the school calls to say they never showed up?)

Will they make friends?

Will the kids with glasses get picked on?

Will they get enough to eat?

Is their teacher kind?

Or is she old and cranky and ready to retire?

(These are the things you often don't know until it is too late. Like last year...but that story is for another blog!)

Will the teacher let them go to the bathroom? (Oh, and boy is there a story there!)

And what about the bus ride home? Will they have a place to sit?

Did I mention that I don't like that I worry?

I really don't. I wish I had the laid back attitude that my husband has...which is usually that everything is and will be alright. Until it's not. Then you can worry.

Thanks honey. That helps.

So aside from the emotional drain that this past week and the impending week have been, let's talk about the financial drain.

With three of my seven going off to public school this week (1st, 3rd, and 5th grade)...here is the list of supplies that the school, uh hem, requested. (Translation...if you don't bring these things in, the teacher will be forced to eat cup o noodles all year because she had to buy your kid crayons.)

Ready...you're gonna love this:

5th grader:

1 (2”) 3 ring binder
1 pencil case
Several red correcting pens
1 package of colored pencils/ water based markers/ crayons
4- 8 highlighters (pink, yellow, blue, green)
***Looked everywhere...only had packs with blue, yellow, pink and orange...sigh.
#2 pencils-regular (at least 36)
***One or two pencils can last me six months...what the heck?
Erasers (pencil top and pink)
Glue sticks (at least four)
Scissors
3 boxes of family style tissues
**My kids don't need kleenex...they use their sleeves.
Dry erase markers (4-6)
Loose leaf writing paper-not colored ( at least four packages)
4 Spiral notebooks (One subject)
5 pocket folders for each subject (homework folders will be provided)
Ruler that has both metric and customary measurement
Protractor
Disinfectant Wipes (at least three canisters)
***Excuse me? Three canisters from each child? Dude...aren't there janitors there? Are you sending my kids to clean the restrooms during recess?
Sheet protectors
Gallon Zip Lock Bags (1 box)
Copy Paper (1 ream)
***Yep...no need for the school to even provide the paper that they print out they syllabus on anymore...just ask each kid to bring in a REAM of paper. Geesh.
Old Sock
***First reasonable request on the list! Do I get brownie points for sending in old underwear too?

Third grader:

1 pencil box with a lid
Small pointed scissors
Pencil Sharpener with lid
Colored pencils (set of 12 or 24)
2 boxes of 24 count crayons (one for August and another for December)
***Could we ask for December supplies like in December? We have enough to deal with in August.
A clean sock or dry erase board eraser
1 composition notebook-any color

Items to be collected and shared:
(Translation...some parents won't cough it up...so we all get to cover their slack. Sounds like communism doesn't it?)
2 packages of #2 pencils (please no mechanical)
1 package wide lined filler paper
1 package of pencil top erasers
4 dry erase markers
2 highlighters
4 glue sticks
1 box of Kleenex
1 bottle of hand sanitizer (opt)
1 container of Clorox or Lysol wipes(opt)
1 box of Ziploc baggies (opt)
***This teacher at least mentioned that some things were optional. Translation: If you don't send those things in, we will assume that you are also on the free lunch program.

First grader:

***Note this may not have been the longest list...but I was cracking up at the anal retentive nature of the list, as well as the gigantic expectations! Oh, and not printed here, but there was a disclaimer: This is a suggested supply list and there might be additional supplies requested by the teacher during the first week of school. Which also could be interpreted as...Supply list: Round One!

4 boxes of 24-count Crayola Crayons (to be used 1 box per quarter) ***Crayola brand was bold and underlined...in other words...don't cheap out on us and send in the Schoolio Von Hoolio brand that you got for a penny at Office Max.
20 glue sticks (if you’d like to purchase more that would be great) ***Yes, I believe I would like to purchase more, because I really believe that my child will be using a full glue stick every week this year and I haven't spent enough money! Dipwad.
2 boxes of tissues (Sigh.)
1 inch, white 3-ring binder clear-view pocket on the outside of binder
1 box of number 2 WOOD pencils
2 pink large erasers (not pencil toppers)
1 box of Ziploc sandwich baggies and 1 box of gallon sized Ziploc baggies ***Again...please make sure that it is ZIPLOC (bold and underlined on her list!) brand...we don't want the cheap Wal-mart baggies that could actually save you a few dollars.
1 container of baby wipes (boys only)
1 container of Lysol disinfectant wipes (girls only) ***At least we shared the wipee burden between the genders here...thank the Lord for coed classes.
4 thin-line, dry erase markers & an old, clean sock (for wiping) (blue, red, green, or black-but not fluorescent)
1 pair Fiskars, child-sized scissors ***Again with the name brands...geesh.
2 wide-ruled single subject spiral notebooks
backpack to carry papers to and from school (NO WHEELS-please)
$5.00-$10.00 donation per student for SCRAPBOOK film development ***What? Oh yes, please let me assist you in making a small fortune to go scrapbooking in the name of "teaching." LOL

Let me issue one small disclaimer here: we love our kids' school. They do a great job with our kids and in including the parents with special programs and lots of fun field trips. (Second mortgage will come in handy to finance all of those field trips, etc...but it is great fun, nonetheless.)

If I didn't believe in what it is that they are doing for and with my kids, I would excercise another option in their education. (Hee Hee, I said excercise.) We are truly blessed. They have excelled and absolutely loved their time at their little school. (With the occasional disgust with cafeteria food, homework, and being disciplined...but that is what puts hair on your chest, right?)
So, I did it. I sent my kids off to school with my last $2000.00 neatly packed and invested in the contents of their backpacks. We took pictures, we prayed, and we called Countrywide to let them know that they won't be getting our mortgage payment this month.

Sigh.

Well, book the cruise!

2008-08-03T04:02:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to share the good news with all of you.

In a series of emails over the last few weeks...seems like I may have already won $10,000,000.00.

I know. I can't believe it either.

Our dear friends over at Publisher's Clearing House have assured me that I don't need to buy anything to win, and that I could very well be the super-prize winner of $5000.00 a week for life.

So, if I suddenly begin posting photos of exotic locations, wearing big diamonds, dining alfresco with my husband, a nanny, and our brood of children...on seafood when it is not even a holiday, and can fill my whole tank with gas at once...know that I didn't fall into drug dealing or begin an illegal immigration ring. Ed McMahon simply came through.

And all of this news couldn't come at a better time, what with the terrible economy and housing market and all.

All I have to say now is "Glory Be."

Oh, and book the cruise.

I'm going shopping.

I mean I have already gotten at least 3 emails a week, and it said that someone with the initials B.S. was definitely going to win.

Oh...maybe I should read between the lines...this whole PCH thing IS the B.S.

Dang it. I would have looked so good with that Prada bag and those diamond encrusted sunglasses.

Guess it is back to reality...does anyone know how to get formerly soggy but now petrified cheerios out of the grout?

The Maid

PS - Thank you Jesus for our many blessings...I know you are faithful to provide...even if sometimes it is with a sense of humor! Amen.

Peace in pieces

2008-07-28T01:52:00.000-07:00

I often wonder what peace feels like.

You know, the peace we read about in God's word. That peace that is supposed to surpass our own understanding.

The peace that guards our hearts and minds.

Well, I witnessed a little bit of that peace online tonight.

I had read about Pastor Greg Laurie and the death of his son this past week in an automobile accident. Christopher was 33 years old and married and expecting their second child in November. It was a horrible accident, obviously, to take his life. His wife and his daughter are both beautiful. (Their photos are posted on the Harvest.org website.)

Thursday this happened people. Unexpected. Sudden. Immediate. Final.

Today, Sunday the 27th...just 3 days later, Greg was in front of his congregation, sharing His faith in God. Sharing his peace. Sharing that although he is heartbroken, his faith is not broken. He stated how he feels closer to heaven now, and that He knows where his son is, and what glory it will be when he gets to see him again.

He got teary and shared that it is not a day to day journey, but a moment by moment one. But the calm, composed Pastor kept it all together and pointed everyone back to Christ. An anecdote he shared about his son had new meaning for him, as he insisted that although he doesn't understand why, he trusts His savior to "choose" for him. Like a loving father who wants to lavish good things on his child, he will trust HIM.

Wow.

I don't know if I could respond with such spiritual maturity. Such an eternal perspective.

I hope to never have to know the depth of that ache...a parent losing a child.

I do know that I have walked through pain in my life that I never thought I could, however, and in bittersweet moments have also been given that peace. I guess I do know what if feels like, but in the absence of such trials, I forget. Would that I could carry that peace always, I truly would. I think it is given to us in measures that are needed. Not a Costco-sized supply, but in small bites. To keep us constantly going back to the throne of Christ and seeking Him. Isaiah 26:3 promises that God will keep us in perfect peace whose mind is fixed on Him. God wants us to put on a heavenly perspective, especially in the midst of trials. He wants us to return to Him every moment we have a need, and to trust and remain focused on Him.

We don't have the grace for tomorrow's trials today. We are given what we need just for today. Our daily bread.

We are given our peace in pieces.

If we lose a job, a piece of His peace is added, when we seek Him.

If we fall into worry. A piece of His peace is added, when we seek Him.

If we watch our children suffer. Again, we seek Him. And we are able to walk through it with peace.

If we are in financial ruin, and we come to Him, with an eternal perspective, we truly receive a peace that we don't understand.

I am thankful that in our weakness, He is strong.

And that He is there for us, moment by moment, day by day, piece by piece...

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, with prayer and petition, and thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Phillipians 4:7

Here is hoping that all of you have a great week, count your blessings, and do something for someone who needs a piece of peace.

In Christ,
The Maid

A kingdom far, far away...okay, not far enough.

2008-07-21T13:26:00.001-07:00

Once upon a time, a lovely maid and her fellow maidens decided to attend a retreat. It was a glorious idea, as previous retreats had been quite the blessing with time away from family and commitments. In the time away the maid often enjoyed cooler weather, being waited on by resort staff when there was a fresh towel needed or some icy good Diet Coke, and spiritual refreshment that can only be experienced in such a setting.

As the date drew near for the retreat of the year two thousand and eight, the maid pondered attending as it would be not in the cooler climate as in times past, but rather right here in the desert with the scorpions, snakes, spiders and other pests. But alas, a decree came from the house of the maid, which insisted that she attend. The royal butler had made every arrangement to care for the maids dwelling place and any remaining peasants, and thus, the maid and her maiden friend embarked on their spiritual journey.

It was a lovely drive to the resort and the clouds in the sky promised to make it not such a dry heat afterall. In fact, over the weekend, the maid would discover the beauty of said dry heat as she and her subjects were exposed to much humidity, and even with room temperature lowered to 60 degrees the dewey maidens could not sleep a wink in their semi-private chambers the first night of their journey.

The next morning the maid emerged from her resting place drenched in sweat and hurriedly prepared to meet the other maidens for the 7:30 breakfast. Twas no time for relaxing bathing or showering, so the maid participated in what is commonly known as a bird bath* and threw on her clean garments.

Being that the maid is accustomed to the night shift, she doesn't often awake singing praises. In fact, it is often best in her maid's kingdom that the peasants refrain from speaking to her before noon. Needless to say many maidens of the morning variety were happily eating their breakfasts while the birds chirped, and they all appeared to have actually slept quite well. The maid did not fit in, but quietly ate her swine, fruit and leavened bread. She was, after all, grateful that she did not have to prepare it nor do a single dish. Ahhh, the beauty of retreat.

Even in her quietness that morning, the great King who appointed the maid to her position alongside the butler, and who ordains and directs every step of her life allowed her to see the blessing He had for her that very morning. Maidens from the land of the dry heat were appointed by the King to come and speak with and fervently pray with the maid. There were tears of joy and appreciation and the maid felt the presence of the King, and healing in many of her relationships.

As the morning went on, those who were to deliver the King's messages did a lovely job and further blessed the maid. There was laughter and encouragement and even vindication in their words. The maid was reminded that although she stumbles, the King will not allow her to fall. That her life is exactly what and where her King wants her to be. She is not under the law, but under grace. And those who point out the sin in her life are failing to remove the log from their own eyes. Wow. What a great King. Our lives of worship for our king, no matter what land we come from, are to be identified by how we love one another, and how we love God.

Oh there was much more, but the maid and her maidens were embarking on their journey to lunch. On the way out, even money was lavished on the maid by a sweet sister maid. Again there were tears of joy and gratitude. And the maidens departed to a far off place to dine on pheasant...I mean chicken and rice...or to Eat Fresh.

What a great time the retreat from retreat turned out to be for all of the maidens. We enjoyed our meals, laughed, and talked and soon ventured out to the carriage to head back to the enchanted land of the scorpions.

Oh, but what did appear on the windshield of the maid's horse and buggy? A note. T'was penned on the back of a library receipt of a do-gooder of the land. It did say the following: "Yer tire is flat."

Ah, but the wisdom was already upon us as we saw the carriage was leaning and the buggy would not make the journey without summoning the Knights of the roadside assistance.

The maid would soon discover what ambitious maidens she dined with that day, as within moments they were assisting, neh, taking over changing the very tire themselves. As one of the maidens proclaimed, "Where, ye, are all the peasant men of the land to assist us with our buggy?" In just moments, one came riding up on his white horse, (i.e. - compact car) and offered his assistance.

He was an older subject with bald head and many years of wisdom. He swiftly parked his carriage and attended to us in our distress.

Moments later, a young lad and his maiden stopped to assist with the buggy as well. Apparently it is a custom where this young man hails from to remove your clothing and expose ye old undergarments and tatoos while in the company of many maidens. Gratitude welled up in all of our hearts and a couple of the maidens lovingly gave a sack of coins (Subway gift card) to the young do-gooders. We were saddened as we left that we couldn't have done more for the peasants: some incense, feed for their horses, or maybe new undergarments which weren't from the kingdom of old.

(I think I now know why our mothers do teach us to wear clean (aka: new) underwear when we venture from home.)

It would soon be that the maidens were back at the retreat in the desert, preparing for their twilight meal. Many had come from far away lands to serve the ladies, I venture to say, even from another country where the language of the maidens is not spoken. It was yet again another fine experience where our food was presented to us all and we neither had to kill it, cook it, or clean it. Yes, t'was a beautiful thing.

But the maid encountered something rather disturbing at the table, as just into the salad course, a fellow table mate commented about the computers (aka: cucumbers) on her salad. We laughed as only mom-maidens can laugh...for we knew the state of sleeplessness that causes such a fumble. The disturbing part is, although this maiden is an aquaintance of your blogging maid, she apparently is a blog reader. Immediately after commenting about her "computers" on her salad, she eyed the maid in all seriousness and said, "Oh, no, you are not going to blog about this are you?"

There I sat, at dinner, in a land far from my cottage and was exposed. It seems that there were several at the maid's table that evening who knew intimately her thoughts. It appears that they, too, knew of the blogging tales of the maid.

Of course that was just one of the many, as another maiden commented when the maid emerged from the little maidens room, "I'm surprised to see YOU using a PUBLIC restroom." There are maidens from lands far and near watching me. They are reading me. They KNOW me. I quickly flashed ye olde hand sanitizer at them, and hurried back to my bed chamber.

The maid was tired that evening from all of the scurrying and scampering about that only happens when the giddy maidens escape from their cottages where they must tend to the wash, the ironing, the chicken plucking, and keeping their peasant children happy. It was a beautiful kind of exhaustion. It was sleep deprivation mixed with gratitude and blessing.

Looking back, even with the bugs, the early mornings, the lack of sleep, the humidity, the flat tire, the sheer fatigue that came with this retreat, I truly considered it all joy. Our King can truly bring beauty from ashes.

And I suppose that knowing that, I can live happily ever after.

The End

*Disclaimer: Not much mention of the two unknown roomies that shared the room with the maid and her maiden friend...we just want to apologize right now for using your shower gel. The day that we were all packing up to leave, we realized that we had been using your goods over the weekend...we laughed in embarrassment when we figured that out. And a note to you and your lovely daughter: next time you room with two people you don't know, they probably wouldn't mistake your stuff for the hotel's stuff if you didn't leave EVERYTHING laying out EVERYWHERE!

Oh, and for those of you wondering just what exactly is a bird bath, well, as a dear friend once told me...that is where you only have time with wet washcloth to wash up as far as possible, down as far as possible, and then you wash "possible." After all, isn't that what they did in ye olde peasant days? :)

Snakes and Snails and....well, you know.

2008-07-11T23:50:00.000-07:00

Everyone is nosey these days.

No one is safe from voyeurism.

No one.

Not even the unborn.

It is bad enough that on every corner of the city I live in there are these dang cameras. They call them photo radars...to catch those dreaded red light runners...doing no good for speeders or other violaters. I'm sure there are other cameras for that, so that our highly skilled officers can sit a little longer at the QT enjoying their powdered donuts.

The other cameras I am referring to are what you see when you are watching the news and they pan over to some stationary view from high above a freeway...there you have it...a bird's eye view of whether or not traffic is moving or frozen, or maybe if OJ is fleeing in the Bronco.

Can I just admit that it drives me nuts how many bloody times a day I am captured on video.

Dude...I can't even drive through for a Frosty without it being on closed circuit television.

And when is someone going to learn to use these powers for good and not evil. (It's not like the cameras are there to make sure we get all of the fries we ordered. You always get the shaft in the drive through.)

By evil, I mean slapping a ticket on a poor unsuspecting maid. A mom of SEVEN going on eight children...so you know that she is a careful driver. You know that she is diligent about keeping close to the speed limit, not driving like a crazy person, and obeying the rules of the road. She is, after all, responsible for chauffering around so many little helpless lives.

So why is it, that in a mere moment of "I don't think I can stop in time, I'd better go for it" the blazing camera lights strike? Why is it that I had to be driving that route that day? Why is it that of course as soon as the flash goes off the maid admits to the friend on the phone that she thinks she just got a ticket. Why is it that I had to be on the phone? UGH! (All captured on film, by the way.)

Of course, just when you think you got away with it too, the ticket arrives via the good old postman. (Or badly coiffed postwoman...as is our case.) There are not one, but FOUR photos. FOUR! Oh, and it gets better, there is also a link where you can watch the offense online in real time on their stupid cameras, in case the photos were not enough.

Jerks.

Yep, big brother is watching. Big brother has his cameras placed in such a way that not even an unsuspecting, dear, sweet, innocent maid (wink) can avoid them entirely.

But hear this, I am one to seek counsel. I am one to listen to the masses. In fact, if I didn't hate to be photographed, I might even consider running for office. I am the one who asked the very peers that I respect so well what to do about this little situation.

You can only guess what I heard a lot of.

Yep.

"You can just ignore that ticket. The city has so many offenders that they can't keep up with it. In fact, if you didn't receive it certified mail, well, then how can they prove you got it?"

Sounded logical to me.

So the maid just kept on fluffing pillows as usual.

I mean after all, it was a $214.00 ticket. If it went away, chances are it would, that money would be at least a tank of gas, right?

Well a wise Proverbial man once uttered..."A companion of fools suffers harm."

Hence, no public office for me. Apparently my lobbyists are fools. Apparently, I cannot depend on those who elected me to the office of ticket trasher. And it is dually noted that I am not going to be saving the $214.00.

Why, you ask?

Oh, let me tell you. :)

Being that I am the knocked up maid, I am often tired. My teenager was away at camp and so the family was a little more hectic than usual. I hadn't been able to sleep much, and of course when the mouse is away, the Maid worries. So I was extra tired.

Wednesday rolled around and I conjured up a little scheme. My dear Butler would take the tribe of our hillbilly Hyatt to church...and I would get a break. No kids for almost 3 hours. Did you hear the pin drop? Silence...for THREE hours.

I could sleep, I could pee in peace, I could do whatever I wanted...for THREE hours.

So just as the troops headed out, the doorbell rang. No doubt someone forgot a baby bottle, or diapers or something important for church, like a Bible. Yep...I ignored it for a minute thinking that they would use their key. They dinged and donged again...apparently a child had been sent to the door, sans key.

I grudgingly got up...waddled to the front door and without a keyhole peek, swung - it - open.

He: "Becky?
Me: "Yes."
He: "I have a photo radar ticket for you."
Me: (Pseudo disbelief and half-waiting to be arrested) "A photo radar ticket? I had no idea." (Liar - maybe I'm cut out for public office after all.)
He: "Sorry about that, bad end to the day, huh?"
Me: "Oh, well...no problem."

Door shuts. I think I even thanked him. ??

Do you realize how sneaky these people are?

Do you realize that this guy stood there totally dressed in denim and a t-shirt looking to be some guy that actually might have known me and his appearance totally didn't send a red flag?

Do you realize that had Tommy Lee Jones been decked out in detective garb, Fugitive style, on my front porch that I may have thought faster and said, "No, I don't know any Becky."

Dang Dept of Transportation.

They are getting smart. In fact, they may have been taking lessons from Sherrif Joe...had I been an illegal alien, I'm pretty sure I would have taken Joe's bait too.

Yep, I have been made a fool of. I have been served with the dang photo radar ticket, in person.

Worse than that, the guy who served me was nice. He even apologized. File this one under the category of "No one to be mad at but myself." Sigh.

My $214.00 ticket will now cost me an additional $35.00 in personal service fees.

And where are my lobbyists now? Where are those who told me to ignore it? Where? I want to know. Because I am feeling a little like a trapped Bill Clinton right now...

"I did not run through that light ... no sir"

Oh wait, define "Red light?"

Busted, man.

Completely busted.

I want you to know that as my first order of business as your elected Maid, I intend to abolish all security cameras not attached to a bank or in a prison somewhere.

I should be able to run the light on my way to get a frosty without being captured on video.

And you know who else deserves exemption?

The unborn.

My poor unborn child was completely violated this week via ultrasound.

It wasn't enough that we saw the alien head and the huge cheekbones, oh, and the big nose. Yep...chipmunk face was fine. We had to move on to the organs...scoping them out one by one. And even after we had determined that the child was healthy...and it declared it had had enough...(translation: squirming all over and curling legs to avoid crotch shot)...Big brother would not stop. (Of course, I hired Big brother to come to my home and do this...and he, being good at what he does would not leave until we could tell which public restroom video camera this child would someday be captured on.)

Yep...the big eye in the sky...the intruding Orwell -esque probe...went right for the goodies.

And there were goodies.

Boy goodies.

Someday in the not too distant future, the Maid and Butler, will be teaching this boy of ours how to avoid all of the photo radar cameras in the city. I know, touching isn't it.

Hey, we are all about leaving a legacy.

The red-light running, ticket ignoring, totally served and busted, ripe with boy - Maid

Me too, Me too.

2008-07-07T16:31:00.000-07:00

I have been absent for a while (translation: in a lovely, cooler place celebrating the 4th of July weekend!) and come home to read all kinds of blog-ony (bologna) about turning the computer off for 48 hours and spending time with your family. Ha.

I did it for 72 hours.

So there.

And guess what. Spending time with your family is great but leaves you a little hungry for the blogworld.

And then I get home to get my fix and realize that everybody and their mother is getting a blog makeover and sprucing up their site...reading books...having babies (Congratulations Roland and family on your fourth of July baby!)...cooking for your family...sharing recipes...and doing all kinds of other things that I just don't have time to do.

(Okay, well the baby thing...but that's it.)

So then I started longing to go back to the cabin and be useless and unplug from blogworld again.

I remember recently listening to a family on some show (probably Oprah because that is where all of the radical ideas seem to start...maybe next I will be reading the "book" - Not) talking about going on a media fast. For like 30 days.

Yep. 30 days.

Ouch.

That would be hard. But it has got me thinking. No TV (what the heck...ours had a ladder through it and is kind of useless right now anyway), no internet, no ipod, limited cell phone use....blah, blah, blah.

Could you do it? I'm needing a diet coke right now just thinking about it. (And 15yo son is at camp and unable to bike ride to Sonic for me - sigh.)

So as I ponder the good, the bad, and the ugly of that whole no computer thing, I was curious to know what all of you think?

1) Could you go on a media fast that included no tv and computer (not pertaining to your job) for 30 days?

2) Would it be helpful or stressful?

3) What do you think you would learn from that?

4) Would you be a nicer person to your family, or would you be grouchy like when you are on a diet?

5) Would you even want to unplug that much for that long?

6) Is it possible that my butt would get smaller?

7) Would my fingers become crippled and arthritic from lack of keyboard use?

8) Could I find anything I needed the old-fashioned way?

9) Is there life without these little initials: LOL.

10) And really, would anybody miss me?

I guess what I might discover in that time is that I sit on my butt a lot and think about working on projects more than I actually work on them...and that I really don't feed my family as much as I clean up after them feeding themselves. I know. Shameful.

So...maybe I will try it. I will let you know, however, and not pull a Scarlett on you. Just in case any of you might be tempted to rip me off of your blogrolls. ;)

Hope to hear from you!

The Maid

Barfy McBarfington

2008-06-30T23:31:00.000-07:00

I know you all are dying to know about the weekend, but let me just tell you that it ended prematurely with an early morning phone call...sickness had struck...and we had to get the kids.

Ever since we got home on Sunday, we have had sick people. Me, baby, hubby was sick on Saturday at the conference, and my 6 yo daughter was sick this morning too. AAAHHHHH!

Can I just tell you all that I am SO sick of sick people. Myself included.

We have all had the flu at least 10 times (not exaggerating) since November. This has been the worst year we have ever had for this sort of thing (Knock on wood)...and I would love to know what we are doing wrong.

What the heck is causing the repeated bouts of this stuff? We take vitamins. We keep things clean enough around here...not perfect, but not overbleached. We should still be leaving room for the healthy bacteria here.

What is going on?

And have I told all of you that I am not the most compassionate person when people are sick? You know, I think it is that germ thing. I don't want to get any on me...so, "um, I'm sorry you are sick, but stay away from me" is kind of my mantra. I don't like that I am that way, I just am. It is not that I don't care, it is that I get really uncomfortable.

At this point, if anyone knows of a Mr. Clean magic eraser for the gastrointestinal system, or maybe some liquid bleach like stuff that will microclean our insides...would you let me know? SOS pads for the colon? Clorox wands for the "lower east side"?

Lastly, does anyone have any barf cleaning tips that will allow one to clean up this dreaded stuff without heaving and gagging yourself? Because I am on the verge of needing to permanently clothespin my sniffer.

I am beginning to think we have some major parasites, and I am not referring to the 7 kids.

Calgon, take me away.

The Maid

Parting is such sweet sorrow....

2008-06-27T13:23:00.001-07:00

Friends, Romans, Countrymen...

'Tis your glorious maid here...you know the one who puts an extra chocolate on your pillow.

(Hey, I didn't say that I wouldn't take a bite out of it first.)

Just checking in to say that I am off for a weekend retreat with the butler...oh, yes, we are hanging the do not disturb sign for sure! We are going to, uh hem, work on our marriage. It is a marriage retreat...and I hope we pass the test.

It has been 3 years since we have been in a hotel room alone with no kids for two nights! Woohoo!

I will talk with all of you precious people when I return. Hopefully I will learn something significant about the dear butler while we are away...like he loves to communicate and really wishes I wouldn't stop talking...or that he enjoys mopping and wishes he could do it every day.

Hmmm...and what will he learn about me? Well...that I really like to take a bath or shower ALONE and preferably without a cheek grab from him. And that I know the only reason his side of the sink is cleaner than mine is because he throws all of his junk on my side. Yep, I'm onto you buddy.

So when I return enlightened, about how we should control our emotions, share our lives with each other, and edify one another always...I would really like to find that one of you dear bloggers has sent a repairman to our home in our absence to repair our 55" Big Screen TV. (Nope, this isn't really ours...ours looked worse than that.)

(Don't ask me if I totally made the butler so mad that he threw a ladder through it, I will deny it. That is my story and I'm sticking to it. Really.)

While we are away learning how not to do that, could someone please undo all of the damage we have done to our kids along the way too? (Thanks Ruby and Elliot...you have your work cut out for you.) Whatever you can't undo, Oprah can capitalize on later.

Okay, so really we are not that bad...doesn't everyone have a trailer trash fight once every ten years? What I mean of course, is a girls gone wild kind of fight where clothes get torn or you have to break something to let it all out.

Spill it. You know you all have at least one juicy story...I am going to have a contest...yep...that's it. Leave me a comment while I'm gone detailing your great trailer trash fight story and when I return, I'll pick a winner with the help of the angry, I mean, loving butler.

Don't worry I won't send you a kid or a fish or something...it will be a great prize...something really practical...like all of the leftover candy bars my kids didn't sell or something. (Giggle.)

Have a great weekend,

The gentle and quiet Maid. (Believe that and boy do I have some great swamp land for sale.)

Disclaimer #1: No butlers or maids were harmed in the writing of this blog. The ladder through the tv story is shared with exclusive verbal permission from the butler himself, he only asks that you not call him the angry butler. He is, after all, a musician (drummer) and you all know what musicians can do to a hotel room. Hee Hee.

Disclaimer #2: If you are living in, haved lived in, or ever plan to live in a trailer, please do not be offended by the term trailer trash. We have lived in trailers more than once, so we are highly qualified. If you are trailer trash, please know that it is simply a term of endearment...yeah, that's it. And lastly, if you are a girl gone wild, please know that the butler and I will be praying for you. Please put your shirt back on and get off of the keg.

That's how I blogroll...

2008-06-23T22:09:00.001-07:00

Blogging is a cruel, cruel world.

You are on a blogroll one minute, and axed from it the next.

Sorry dear Thirsty Pretzel, I'm No Belle, and Bunco friend.

If you don't update for a month (I hope you are still alive Amy)

...or if I don't personally know you and you don't update for 3 weeks (Whatevah Scarlett)

...or if I never get comments from you and I'm not on your blogroll either (Sweet Bunco friend)

Well, you may now exit the runway.

To all the blogs I've loved before:

You are not exempt either. I'm fickle. And it's my blog and I will snuff out your torch without taking a vote.

So who is on my blogroll?

Well...friends that I know and who often comment. Friends who don't comment as much as I wish they would...and friends that begged me to put them there. (Just kidding girlie...I was glad to do it.)

I've also included links to people I don't know, but who have passed the "can my kid read this" test.

There are so many more out there that I would like to share with you all, but if I were to do that...well, I'm afraid of the stormtroopers that would one day come looking for those haunting images on my computer. (Uh hum, Hallie. I've seen truth on your blog that Jack Nicholson couldn't handle.) And I love Hallie. She is the friend in high school that all of the nerdy (Maid) girls wanted to hang out with, but had to lie to their mother about. Oh, and she probably had cigarettes in her purse. She does, after all, show us girls parts of the world wide web that we had only heard urban legends about. I wish I was the free spirit that is the Wonderful World of Wieners. (Disclaimer: if you are under the age of 18, please get your parents permission before going to this or any other blog site.)

The others on my blogroll are either mutual admiration societies (Love me some Happy Mommy and Bogart)...we read, we comment, and I don't like to miss a day....OR, someone on whom we have a bloggy crush...or wish we were invited to their bounce houses in the back yard because they are that cool. (Poop and Boogies)

Oh, and one more category...the sistah hood...the girls that have your back. Some you know, some you don't. Some you feel like you know because you are in their business daily. You would mail them their favorite Starbucks or a pregnancy test because you want that for them too...or you would stop, drop, and pray for their needs. (And sometimes do!)

It's a curious thing, this little blogmall. With the click of the mouse I can window shop (lurker), stop in and buy something (commenter), or have a frequent shopper card (blogroll em).

Thanks to all of you who are a part of my blogmall...strolling the shops with me, trying on shoes with me and telling me which ones to buy, and those of you who publicly declare that you go to the mall with me...and say "Hey, you oughtta know this girl...she's the bomb shizz" as my 15 year old son so often says. (I guess "the bomb" just isn't cool enough anymore. )

Oh, and if ever you want me to add you to my blogroll...well, let me know. I will email you an application...and as soon as I receive your processing fee, we'll be in business. (Just kidding...I can't be bought...unless you count brownies, comments, or hyperlinks!)

Have a great week, and let me know if you have any great blogsites to check out. I have shopped all over this dang mall, and sometimes only your friends can tell you about the bargain basement or the screamin' deals! :)

The Maid-shizz (You know, I hope that is not slang for a swear word??? Son??)

I'm it! I'm it!

2008-06-21T23:17:00.000-07:00

Seems I've been tagged by a couple of bloggers who want to know more about me....

Yeah, I don't get it either....lil ole me? What more do you need to know, I'm awesome. LOL

So...here goes:

Julia and her bloomin' life wanted me to play this one:

Cooking Meme:

When was the most recent time you were burned? Sadly, twas a curling iron not the stove. Um about two months ago.

Can you cook? Heavens no. I can assemble food...but cooking...not so much.

If yes, name your specialties: Costco Carnitas, Red Baron Pizza, Sam's Club pulled pork.

Do you enjoy cooking? NO! Hate it...hate cleaning...hate prepping...but oddly I love to feed people.

If no, do you want to be able to cook? I've often thought that I'd like to learn...but probably not or I would have done something about it. Hee Hee

What color is your kitchen? Ralph Lauren paint...wine color. Mocha cabinets with Black and copper granite. Oh, and an ever-so-lovely movie theater sticky floor.

Do you bake? Love to bake. Ask my friends...I'm Becky Homecky, Goddess of the Cream Horn.

If yes, do you like to bake? Yes, almost as much as I like sleeping. I said almost.

If no, do you want to bake? N/A

What color is your apron? Never wear one...have a bunch, but truth is...I don't own any clothes that are worth protecting. And with this skinnertube of mine that protrudes right at counter height, there just aren't enough aprons! Maybe cooking girdles will become popular.

**I tag Happy Mommy....(although I think I already know the answers little recipe sharer!)
Hallie @ Wonderful World of Wieners
Bunch of Bull-ers

****Meme #2 (Courtesy of Happy Mommy...thanks for waiting!):

The ABC's of me:

A. Attached or Single? Attached - The Butler and I have been together for 14 years...married 13 years this October 21st.

B. Best Friend? Probably hubby...or my mom! The people that have stayed the course with me...and I have a lot of fun with both of them.

C. Cake or Pie? Cake...of course with Whipped Cream Frosting! :)

D. Day of choice? Saturday...because if I really need to sleep in, I usually can. Hubby is the morning parent...I'm the Night Owl.

E. Essential item? Toilet paper. Sorry, I know that is very practical, but I go into panic mode when we start getting low. Oh, and I need me some hand sanitizer. Mascara would be a close second...I feel naked without it. (Now that we mention this...I'm thinking bra too...my girls don't have any get up and go...so I really NEED that little ditty.)

F. Favorite color? Purple...and black...and blue...I guess I'm kind of a bruise girl. (Without the yellow.)

G. Gummy Bears or Worms? Worms the sour kind.

H. Home town? I was an Army brat, so I don't really have one. Born in London, England, though. Pip pip...cheerio.

I. Favorite indulgence? Ice Cream (Amen Sister!)

J. January or July? January. I hate the summer months...where we live it is too darn hot. Without a pool, this city is a miserable place to spend July.

K. Kids? We have 7, but are currently expecting the 8th. Don't know if I want more, but I would consider adoption before I would consider pregnancy again myself.

L. Life isn't complete without? Diet Coke and crushed ice. (And maybe good Mexican food.)

M. Marriage Date? October 21, 1995

N. Number of brothers and sisters? I was an only child until mom remarried when I was 18 and my dad remarried and they had two girls when I was in high school...half sisters. But I still feel like an only...no real close siblings.

O. Oranges or Apples? Clementine oranges...yummo!

P. Phobia's? Death, spiders, snakes, scorpions, public restrooms, and germs in general.

Q. Quotes? "It is not a slight thing, when those who are so fresh from God, love us." Charles Dickens.

R. Reasons to smile? Salvation, Kids, Love...teeth, oh and not being on a diet.

S. Season of choice? Winter...the most reasonable of all seasons around here...and it usually only lasts about 3 days. :)

T. Tag 5 people. Everyone on my blogroll...consider yourself tagged. (Yes, April, that means you too. You are not too good for this dumb stuff.)

U. Unknown fact about me? I am secretly Wonder Woman. Oh, and read this. (Okay, really, I wanna be used by God in a HUGE way someday...I hope it means traveling, speaking, and talking to women all over the country!)

V. Vegetable? Sadly, the starchy ones. Or carrots.

W. Worst Habit? If you ask some people they would say swearing. (See last post...LOL) Physically, my really bad habits include nail biting (since I was five years old) and not excercising. Spiritually, they are not reading God's word enough and failing to pray for my family often enough.

X. Xray or ultrasound? Neither...unless I'm preggers then give me an ultrasound! ;)

Y. Your favorite food? Steak and baked potato. (Mexican food is a close second.)

Z. Zodiac sign? Sagittarius...not like I believe in that stuff. (My tarot cards said not to.)

Thanks for taking the time to stop by. Please let me know if you decided to play...leave me a comment so I can check...you...out. ;) I really like parties...the more the merrier...so PLAY with me.

The Meme-ing Maid.

Kick me while I'm down, why don't ya?

2008-06-18T09:43:00.000-07:00

Hello People.

I've been absent from blogland for a very good reason. I think I am depressed.

I have had one naturopathic wholistic tea tree oil friend (You know who you are and you know I love you) who has been telling me that for a long time. I always ignore it. I guess I feel like as long as I get up and get dressed and put on make-up occasionally, and I don't get tears tattooed from the outer corner of my eyes...I'm fine. I haven't been basking in miniature white powdered donuts or stealing from my kids' stash of Fundraiser Chocolate Bars or anything.

So I feel like I am plugging along in life, doing my best, keeping my kids out of jail, and trying not to exist solely on carbs. Someone who is going to her midwife, taking her kids to the dentist/orthodontist, and the occasional Bible Study can't be all that messed up, right?

Apparently not.

Evidently I am in deep need of St. John's Wort, says Dr. TeaTree. So today I looked it up. It goes by a few names...I found that it is also called: hypericum, Klamath weed, and goat weed. Did you see that?

Weed. My dear friend wants me to take "weed."

I mean, I've heard that it has medicinal uses, but doesn't it also give you the munchies? With my BMI, I can't afford the munchies. I mean I'm already struggling with trying to get off of Diet Coke, because everyone says it makes you fat.

The other name for it..."hypericum"...well, duh..."Hyper ICK um." Yep, that about sums up how I'm feeling.

SuperICK or as queenie would say, UberICK.

I am not one to take medications. I often even put off Tylenol until near death because I've heard that it damages your kidneys or liver or something. I take vitamins, but I am even skeptical with those. I mean how much healing power can be in one little microtube...that is pressed and compacted and chemically altered? And can those things really undo a lifetime of Taco Bell and Diet Coke?

I think the conclusion that I came to is this...I don't need to "drug up" and I'm not even sure I need to "herb up"...rather I probably need to figure out the why of it all.

Why am I depressed?

I mean the Bible says that as a man purposes in his heart, so he is. And the laymen? Even Oprah and Dr. Phil say that our behaviors stem from our thoughts and our thoughts from our feelings and our feelings from our beliefs...and our beliefs go so deep that we don't often even know what they are or why they are there.

Yep...I might just need a spot on a couch for a while. Lying down, with a really good looking shrink telling me that none of this is my fault.

(Dear husband, please disregard "good looking shrink" comment...I am perfectly content with my "good looking butler" and merely blog some things for effect, okay?)

So as I delve into my thoughts, feelings, and beliefs to try to figure out why I am here...rather than here...just humor me.

My thoughts take me to a place that I call bummerville. I realize that God's word says to take every thought captive...and not to "go there," but sometimes you just do. Bummerville consists of all of those things we decide about ourselves based upon the outside looking in perspective.

I'm unhappy with my appearance.
I'm in financial chaos.
I'm messing up my family.
I'm a terrible wife.
I'm failing as a Christian.

Yep...those are painful things to dwell on, so it is a short trip to Bummerville. You snap yourself out of it with a Diet Coke and a cookie.

Those thoughts are also not from my creator God, but from the pit.

So I move on to my feelings.

I'm unhappy.
I'm sad.
I'm scared.
I'm worried about the future.
I'm spiritually stuck.

I also realize that those feelings are temporary. Finding joy in all of my circumstances or feelings is what I am supposed to do, right? So I pull out my Bible and read in Ecclesiastes that there is a time for everything. This just might be my time to weep. (And I do.)

You can only cry for so long, though...and then you have to go change a diaper or pick up a kid from camp or celebrate a birthday or something...and you snap back into the "I love my family and this too shall pass" mentality.

Lastly, I try to figure out my beliefs:

I believe that God is in control.
I believe that He does things for my ultimate good.
I believe that He allows certain things to happen to create in me character and compassion.
I believe that God will not leave me or forsake me.
I believe that I am His child and am an heir to His throne.

With those Biblical truths, I figure I can't be that bad. If you dwell on those things, you can often overcome the thoughts and feelings that plague you and bring you down.

At least you should be able to.

Until someone calls you (as they did me last week) and tells you that you are not walking in the Spirit like you should. (While you are cleaning up puke...and headed to a "government" appointment because of your financial distress.) They question your very alignment with God's word and your walk. They tell you that you are not someone that they want to spend time with because of your cursing. Oh, and you drink. (Everyone I know can attest that you can count the number of drinks I've had in the last 5 years on one hand. And even God's word doesn't forbid drinking.) And they do all of this under the guise of "I owe you an apology because I lied to you."

Uh, okay. This person apologizes and then says, "but do you want to know why?" (Warning: If anyone calls you and asks if you want to know why they said something behind your back...just say no.) So I listened. And I cried. I was not only shocked, but hurt. And ultimately, I disagreed. It took several days of digging through scriptures to come to the conclusion that this "rebuke" was not from the Lord. I could learn from it, but it was not God that was condemning me.

God comforted me and directed me to verses which assured me that the condemnation I felt was not from Him. "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." He also took me to verses which showed me that I should strive to be a person with a gentle and quiet spirit, and that the things I say should be edifying.

I am (and have been for a while) profoundly aware of my own sins...my own ability to act in the flesh. I occasionally swear, make jokes, and react in the flesh.

I struggle (as any of us do) in many areas of my Christian walk, however, I do not consider myself to be choosing to sin. If and when I say what is not in God's will or is not edifying, I feel terrible, and I believe it is the Holy Spirit who convicts me, not others. And I will repent.

But I think this blog could be a testimony of how I have cleaned it up over the years. I try not to put anything in writing that others would take offense to. I think the worst thing I have said in this blog is "crap." (For which I was confronted, by the way.)

I think this blog is somewhat reflective of my life. Because Christians may be reading this, I try to keep it clean. You can bet that when I am around Christians, or am at church, that I am mindful of what I say. (I am actually mindful of what I say all the time...we have even confronted kids in public for using foul language.) So her accusations crushed me. I spiraled into a "I guess I'm not good enough" mentality...and wondered if God would ever use me.

Well, to that God said to me that my very brokenness is His qualification for using me. God does not call perfect people, He calls imperfect people. He wants me. Can you believe that? God wants me?

Margaritas, swear words, stinking thinking, and all...God wants me.

Ultimately I have learned a lot from this. I will be longsuffering with my friends when they offend me, because I don't know what they are going through. I will pray for them more. I will speak ill of them to no one. (That way I won't have to call and apologize...and then feel as if I have to justify my own behavior by attacking them.)

Maybe what we all need to do as friends, sisters in Christ, etc...is to take the "Friendship" hypocratic oath. Which sums it all up with this: First, do no harm.

You never help someone out of a pit, by kicking them first.

*Disclaimer: If you know me or know the people involved in this scenario, know that I mean no disrespect to anyone. I am the owner of this blog and it is a place for MY feelings and thoughts. If you wish to leave a comment, just know that it may be deleted if I feel it is inappropriate or uses identifying information. The above paragraphs are my own thoughts and feelings, hopes and goals as a Christian...if I fail them in any way, you do not need to throw them in my face in the future. While I hope I never hurt anyone, I know I will. So in advance, I am sorry. And guess what...I am still a child of God in all of my failures, and He loves me! Hallelujah!

More people to the gallon....

2008-06-10T13:14:00.000-07:00

We all are experiencing the pinch at the pump. Recently Queen April lamented at the $95.02 she forked out as the fuel pump mocked her. I too have been scoffed at by QT as I shoved the nozzle into the 'Burb. I think I even heard a faint "na na na na naaaaa na." I mean $4.15 a gallon? April, get this, it cost me a tad over $120.00 to plop in a mere 30 gallons. I found myself actually wishing that I could fuel my vehicle with milk. For the first time in my lifetime, a gallon of milk is cheaper than a gallon of gas. Or I could fillerup with diet coke...after all THAT is what gets ME going in the morning. Right?

What baffles me even more is, that we don't know how to fix it as a country, or it hasn't been a priority yet. Oil companies are boasting obscene profits, and like APS and Qwest before them, we allow them to have a price-fixing, there-ain't-no-use-shopping-around kind of business.

I found myself puzzled that, in this day and age, "we can put a man on the moon" but WE haven't figured out the alternative fuel thing. I mean even Sao Paolo already boasts a city not dependent on oil at all. They are growing and sustaining crops of sugar cane to produce sugar ethanol. They have streets littered with vehicles which run on sugar ethanol. (What moon did they walk on?) Hello...this is Brazil, people. This is a country that conjures up images of lush green landscapes, coffee beans, and exotic animals...not economic independence. Geesh, I am so behind the times.

But apparently, I am not the only one. Our entire country is behind. Do you drive a sugar ethanol vehicle? I bet not. We are forking over $4.15 a gallon right now (while skipping vacations, dining out, health care, new underwear...whatever) to be able to drive a car. I think I earned less than that per hour at my first "real" job. This is not a luxury folks...this is how we get from A to B...to earn a living! (For those of you who are really earning a living, right now we are just pretending.)

I am afraid, too, that "they" are saying it is going to get worse. Yikes!

I laughed when a couple of the car manufacturers were offering a 2.99 per gallon guarantee for gas when you purchase a new car. That cracked me up..."Hey honey, let's go spend 35,000 on a new vehicle so that we can save a few cents a gallon." Yup...that is brilliant.

Apparently, the joke is on me. I am now thinking about buying a jeep. The only problem is that I don't think they make one that would seat my whole family.

Darn it.

So how do we, an average American large family, save money on gas? Well, first of all, we don't drive very far each week. We are limiting our trips to church, shopping, and other stops. We don't ever go for a "lesiurely drive" on a Sunday afternoon anymore. Our annual trip to California? Dumped. And well, we scour the ads each week for which grocery store offers the best gas coupons with purchase.

Our only comfort? My husband and I came to the conclusion that our Suburban may cost more to drive, but we are hauling around more people to the gallon than most. We figure not only are we sparing the environment, but we are bonding wherever we go. (Cheesy grin.)

How do you improve on 9 people to the gallon?

Try having 10.

Due November 6th, 2008. (That is what happens when the butler fluffs your pillow.) Wink.

So the new dilemma we are facing is that our Suburban is now too small. We will have to fork it out for one of these. Or maybe this. This is an option. I don't think this would work. (We are short on water in these here parts.) What about a couple of these? We could save on gas, although I haven't priced hay lately. Hmmm. I think we will have to settle for the 15 passenger van. It won't be so bad, eh? And since it gets the same 15-19 miles per gallon that our Chevy does, we won't be wasting any more energy, right?

See how green we are?

(In case you missed it, that was sarcasm. Don't even try to talk to me about cloth diapers.)

I'm sure in no time...Doc Brown will have perfected the Mr. Fusion garbage tank...and all of our dirty diapers will be fueling your cars.

No need to thank us. You ARE welcome.

And before anyone has a chance to say we are overpopulating the planet, blah, blah, blah...just think about how you will benefit from our soon to be 8 kids paying taxes and pouring their blood, sweat, and tears into your social security fund. Again, you can thank us later.

Lest you feel the need to ask "Are you gonna have any more?" I will tell you that we will not be filling the new van to capacity. Okie dokie?

So, now that you have digested that tidbit...ask yourself this..."How many people do you get per gallon?"

Sincerely,

The Knocked-Up Maid

What DO you do ALL day?

2008-06-05T13:26:00.000-07:00

This is for all of my friends out there who have ever been asked (As I was not so long ago...by a girl friend and mom no less):

What do you guys do all day? (GLARE)

And here, my friends, is my reply: (If you get my email, you've seen this before...just humor me)

* Try to sleep

* Realize I can't sleep

* Get up

* Eat

* Clean DNA off myself (sometimes mine, sometimes not)

* Yell

* Clean up

* Eat some more of what the kids are eating

* Start laundry

* Sweep and vacuum up what we ate

* Clean counter to fold laundry on

* Begin folding laundry

* Take phone call

* Start grocery list

* Fold more laundry

* Eat laundry (just checkin)

* Peel kids off of walls

* Scrape kids gum off of walls

* Throw away swept up pile of mess from previous eating session

* Put some clean laundry away

* Look for previously started grocery list

* Do more laundry

* Clean the rooms where the kids had put away clean laundry

* Try to determine (via sniff test) which laundry they threw on the floor is clean

* Finish grocery list that I just found in the laundry room

* Sort remaining laundry while in there

* Kill small bug

* Go and get paper towel to pick up small dead bug

* Hear baby cry and go get baby

* See unstarted washing machine

* Put soap in and start machine

* See dead bug still on floor

* Forgot paper towel so go get toilet paper to flush dead bug

* See daughter's name written in cursive on bathroom mirror with something wet and greasy

* Admire the cursive for a minute

* Realize that hungry, crying baby is clawing out your eyeballs and go get nail clippers

* Sit down on couch and clip nails

* Go get wipee to clean up nail clippings (package empty)

* Put baby in swing

* Go get new package of wipees from storage in laundry room

* See dead bug again

* Use wipee to pick up dead bug and take both into bathroom to flush

* Admire the cursive on mirror one more time and pray as you flush that wipees are flushable

* Go get paper towel to clean mirror

* While grabbing said towel and mirror cleaner, put soap in dishwasher and start it

* Go clean bathroom mirror

* See wipees on counter and remember hungry baby and nail clippings

* Go to clean nail clippings and find baby sleeping in swing

* Fix self diet coke and let fizz settle

* Washing machine dings that it needs attention

* Go tend to machine

* Pull more laundry from the dryer and bring to set on kitchen counter

* See diet coke and take drink

* Give up on having a clean house

* Think about fixing kids a late lunch

* Bribe kids to rub my back as it appears they aren't hungry

* Answer phone

* Go immediately to pay bill electronically on computer

* Remember more things for grocery list which I've lost again and start a new list

* Fix "starving" kids bowl of cereal who complain that I never fixed them lunch

* Clean up remnants of other things they have eaten even though they are "starving"

* Rewash already washed clean laundry that got thrown on the floor

* Watch food network show (while trying to tidy living room) and be inspired to cook dinner

* See how much laundry was on the kitchen counter and decide not to cook dinner

* Throw clean laundry from counter onto couch

* Tell kids to get off the piles of clean laundry on the couch

* Change diaper wearer who leaked onto the clean laundry on the couch

* Have sibling bathe dirty diaper couch laundry sitter

* Clean what I already cleaned once before

* Probably eat something that was left on the counter by a kid

* Rewash clean laundry that was on the couch

* Sweep crumbs off of the kitchen floor in last ditch effort to "clean" house before hubby arrives

* Get side-tracked while looking for dust pan, broom, and/or vacuum and decide to clean up bathroom after sibling who bathed dirty diaper couch laundry sitter

* While in bathroom, flush DNA of non-diaper wearing sibling

* Hope they washed their hands

* Clean toothpaste off of bathroom counter where hands should have been washed and apparently no toothpaste actually made it onto toothbrush

* Pray for miracles for teeth which did not get brushed

* Pick up hand towel off bathroom floor

* Wipe up more DNA

* Take towel to laundry room to be washed

* Hear hubby coming through garage only to realize that:

The laundry baskets are just as full as before, most children are not bathed, the folding has been unfolded, the clean has been uncleaned, the kids are still hungry, dinner is not fixed, diapers are dirty once again, "tidied" rooms are now ground zero, nursing infant has not been fed all day and has now dipped below birthweight while surviving on thumb saliva, realize that I have not peed all day, and that once again I am covered in DNA (some mine, some not)...collapse, try to sleep and wake up tomorrow once more to....repeat list.

If you made it all the way through the above entry, you are either thankful you have only one child, thankful that your children do their own laundry or choose to be naked, or a mom who can totally relate and who now knows that you are not alone!

Also...remember what your mom used to say..."Ask a stupid question...get a STUPID (nonetheless true) answer!"

Happy MOM-ing.

The Maid

Just hold it...and bring the hand sanitizer

2008-06-01T22:29:00.000-07:00

There are, invariably, three types of people in this world.

1) The fearless public restroom user.

2) The phobic public restroom user.

3) The anti-public restroom user.

**Person number one, who we shall call Pee-Mobile, does not mind using any public restroom, at any time, in any location.

This person does not check the stall first to make sure that there are no unsunken battleships in the toilet, or that it is even remotely clean. They are the ones who run in, take care of business, and run out, without ever pondering the unseen microbes that linger and could be hitching a ride on their backside until the next shower.

This person is an enigma to me. Pee-Mobile doesn't even carry hand sanitizer, isn't afraid to touch the flusher, the faucet, or the door handle when exiting the restroom, and certainly won't mind the absence of toilet seat covers. (I am having a panic attack just thinking about this person.) This is probably the same person that can base jump, ride scary roller coasters, or dive in a shark cage just for the fun of it. They go camping and don't bring a porta-potty or toilet paper...they may even wipe booty with tree bark. Pee-Mobiles are reckless and sometimes stupid, but on the upside live their lives without regrets. Although I am in awe of this person, I would never share a bag of popcorn with them. (EEEWWWW)

**Person number two, who I like to refer to as Sprint, is the one who is prepared for battle when reaching the public restroom. They do not like it in there, but they come cocked and ready to fire. They have a certain standard that the restroom must meet before they will even enter. In fact, you can recognize the Sprinter by how many stalls they peer into before entering. A line of 10 stalls may only have one acceptable potty. This person is looking for clean, dry, well-stocked, preferably odor-free, and even more preferably not recently used porcelain.

Sprint likes to bring along his/her own supplies. At any given time, he/she will have Purell alcohol gel or wipes, other hand washing supplies, and yes, even a travel sized pouch of toilet seat covers. (Oh, they do exist, trust me.) This dear person is likely to squat even with a seat cover, as added protection, and might be in such a hurry to get out of the place that he/she leaves a sprinkle on the seat.

A Sprinter is also the one who flushes with his/her shoe to avoid touching the flusher (if no auto flush is available) and who advances the paper towels with the elbow, and opens the restroom door upon exiting with a PAPER towel. (Of course this person will use the hand sanitizer after discarding the paper towel...maybe even more than once.) Depending on the state of the restroom, this person also has been known to hold his/her breath the entire duration of the restroom visit.

Although Sprints are somewhat phobic, they would still opt for public outings and just choose to come prepared. They may also be former boy/girl scouts and you can bet they probably keep a pretty clean house. Their kids get frequent doses of hand sanitizer, wipee wipe downs, and probably more than once daily baths.

**Person number three, the most cautious of them all, we will call No-Pee-A. This is the person who will never opt for public restroom usage. They limit their outings to short ones and do not stray far away from home. This is the person that admits that there is not enough hand sanitizer in the world to make them sit where strange butts have sat, and risk publicly mingling personal fluids. No-Pee-A would also admit that they have peed themselves on more than one occasion to avoid a public restroom debacle.

This is the person who gags when changing a diaper, wears gloves to clean their home toilets, and uses Clorox bleach by the truckload. In fact, ironically, this person is probably more prone to illness because of the killing of all of the good bacteria throughout his/her lifetime. No-Pee-A has also probably spent a kings ransom on antibiotics for all of his/her urinary tract infections that stemmed from "holding it."

No-Pee-A, contrary to popular belief, is not crazy. In fact, I think the further you read on in this article, you may decide to "Just Hold It."

***

With the above in mind, please read the following summary of the reasons that these personalities may have developed. Just know that you may feel you need a shower after reading this blog.

1) Automatic flushers malfunction.

* We have all had this happen, I suppose. You get your seat cover perfectly aligned on the seat, maybe even two, and when you turn around, assume the position and commence to squat, the auto flush goes off. Your butt hits the seat (gag) right as the covers are dragged into the water. Sigh.

* You are carefully placed atop the covers, making quick work of your business, when the auto flush goes off while you are still mid-stream. Of course this is no low-flow toilet kind of flush. This is the Boeing 747 flush that will, if need be, suck a small animal down the drain. This is the one that uses such a powerful spray that your germa-phobic bottom gets the crop dusting of public restroom toilet water as you are trying to quickly eject from said seat. This one might put an end to public outing, as you feel you must find the nearest Clorox wipes, if not head home to shower.

2) Public restroom toilet paper is from the devil.

* This sorry excuse for toilet paper is tightly wound and won't even tear off one square at a time. This roll often takes two hands to just get that coveted 18 inches of one ply paper.

* This roll of public restroom paper is off the holder and has been, no doubt, on the floor. (I just threw up in my mouth.) God only knows whose hands or more have touched this roll, which you are expected to dab all over your personal "produce department."

* Lastly, this roll is so thin, that as you pull the paper off the roll, you notice holes in the paper. A little like Swiss cheese. This paper is definitely not "quilted" and most certainly is considered a half a ply. No amount of this paper will make it equal regular paper. It will always feel like computer paper as you try to avoid a paper cut to the promised land.

3) The sink. Yep, the glorious washing place, not.

* You all know THIS sink. It is the one that appears to have had a small child bathing in it because there is water everywhere. In fact, no place to set your purse as you wash up, and once you begin to wash...you realize that it is spraying so powerfully that you exit the bathroom with water marks from chin to crotch. Thankfully, though it was a pressure washer because there was inevitably, no soap.

* This sink is the one that has a hot and cold button. One on each side. They do not work together. You get hot or cold. In fact, when faced with that choice, we all would rather suffer third degree burns. Another perk at this faucet is that the dumb thing has to be held down with one hand while you wash the other. Yep, that is convenient. Let me hold onto, for a prolonged period of time, the slimy, wet faucet that all the other public pee-ers touched. This is the sink that does absolutely no good without hand sanitizer. This is why women go to the potty in groups...one person has to hold the faucet down with a paper towel. Got it?

* All other sinks fit into one category, clean or not? Nothing more pleasurable than having successfully peed, flushed, and fled...only to find a filthy sink with several of Cher's long black hairs in them. Why is that? Why is it that the only stray hair in a public bathroom sink is 8 feet long and black? (I think we should lobby the legislature for mandatory hair net usage in public restrooms.)

4) The hand drying mechanism.

* The blow dryer is, in my opinion, like having a sick child cough into your hands. The recycled restroom air that it is blowing all over your "wet" hands, has to be the most disgusting invention. (Next to the one piece revolving cloth drying towel of the 70's.) Even if you don't mind the dirty air blowing on you, lingering in a place that smells of other people's junk is not for me. (I don't care how many air fresheners they try to disguise it with!)

* The automatic paper towel dispenser. You are supposed to not have to touch it. You end up having to touch 10 buttons all over the thing to find out how to manually advance the towels. By the time you score your paper towels, you need to rewash.

* The "pull with two hands" towels. Oh yep. These are a hoot. These are the ones that never tear off correctly, get jammed in the dispenser, and must be pulled on simultaneously by both hands strategically placed on the half inch of towel that is sticking out of the machine. Dude...makes me want to use my shirt.

***

So, my friends, if you are not a No-Pee-A, then you more than likely have experienced an auto-flush failure, a can't spare a square dispenser, the "Old Faithful" spray of an auto sink, or the blowing of hot, yucky air onto your flesh. Don't try to reach for my popcorn.

I'm telling ya...I think I will just hold it.

(And I do, until that four year old decides she needs to go...all I can say is....
"Please don't touch anything!") As I reach for my purell.

What kind of tinkler are you?

Oh, the Pressure!

2008-05-30T09:36:00.000-07:00

I am a fairly new blogger, in that I have only been on this darn thing since about mid-March. And when I say on it, I mean ON it. I may not be writing often, but I am reading - all over the place - pretty much every day. To my own peril.

So, I have discovered a few things.

There is this PRESSURE in the blogging world.

Not pressure to write every day, not pressure to link everyone to your blog, not even the pressure to have the best template or header...although I think it is a secret contest amongst bloggers..."My blog looks better than her blog."

Dude, I am all about the cheap, fast and easy. Ask my family. That is how I cook, dress, and shop. (I didn't say "I" was cheap fast and easy...geesh.)

I don't buy a ton of stuff at Walmart because I love it, I do it because it is all conveniently thrown under one roof. If Nordstrom's had groceries, I'd overspend there too.

So anyway, the PRESSURE, that I am referring to is this:

On almost every blogging site you will find a talented, crafty, sewing, photo-taking, photo-sharing, recipe making, healthy cooking, Martha Stewart cloned organizing junkie who is naturally funny. (I said ALMOST...don't assume you are funny if you are not. Some people are just boring and self-righteous and want to make you feel like a slob.)

I can handle pressure, I mean I have kids, right? I get the juggling of many balls and wearing of many hats thing. (I know, hee hee Scarlett, I said balls.)

Listen up, though...this pressure is taking a toll on me. I am overdue for a pedicure and it has been months since my last haircut. I look like this. I laid on my couch looking around last night and thought...we are so messy. We are such slobs. We are THAT family that no one wants to hang out with because their dishes sometimes get put away dirty and your feet stick to the kitchen floor.

(No, I didn't mean any disrespect to "We are THAT family"...a highly respectable blog with great humor and all of the other pressures...good photos...blah blah blah, thanks for raising the bar Kristen. LOL)

Have you ever been to one of those houses? You know the ones where you would rather hold it than go pee?

That is the state of our slovenliness I am afraid.

Not even Mr. Clean and all of his magic erasers can help us now.

So if we can't even keep ourselves bleachified and sparkled up, then how, my dear blogging friends, can we keep organized? No disrespect to my sweet friend and her organized life, but I don't think that any more organizational websites baskets and bins, pails and cute little taggy things are going to keep my kids and their stuff put away and the pee off the toilet seats. (Or the even grosser DNA that we find around my house. Shiver.)

Now let me address the other pressures...

Cooking for my family? Um, nope. I prefer the dining out option, when we can afford it. Since we are still waiting for our stimulus check (dream on debtors), our meals look a lot like this. Especially since Safeway had them on sale and you got free movie passes when you bought a gazillion. (Pretty telling, I'm afraid when your 18 month old can request a "Ha Pocky" for breakfast.)

Since I don't cook, I like to offer my family lots of choices. At any given time we have 10 boxes of different cereal, four different types of Oreos, a selection of goldfish, and a basket of rotting fruit. (Don't look at me in that tone of voice, it wasn't rotting when I bought it.)

I used to be all afraid of sugary cereals, but as a dear friend taught me...if you feed your kids a steady diet of sugar, they won't freak out when they get it. Aaaahhhh, wisdom. And as far as the fruit thing goes, we are enjoying the health benefits of the fruit as it decomposes in our presence. It is reverse juicing. We, by osmosis, absorb the rotting fruit gasses, and when you add that to our Gummy vitamins, we are a picture of health. (Take that you kefir eating wierdos.)

Oh, and all you organic only eating, green leafy vegetable toting, co-op produce swappers...I prefer my pesticides, because I will not become the bug eater. Just jokin' neighbor...I think it is great for you to eat that ruffly fresh off the truck California stuff...I'm just saying my super washed hairless, bugless bag salad is the way for me.

One other thing I have discovered from the world of blogging is that there are more than a few of you out there who are raising chickens. This girl, that girl, and I think even this one. Dude, I know that the chickens poop out the eggs, but that is a farm fairy tale that I don't want to witness. And I just can't see myself uttering the words, "Daddy's out in the coop...go fetch me some eggs."

And let me say that I am a bit slow on this here computer stuff. "Ifins we had one of these back in my day", well, I might be all over this bad boy. But to all of you who are posting the great articles and photos and making it seem effortless (Marcy), just know that it took 3 people from my family to post this one photo on my page. "Itsa gunna be a while fer me."

Lastly, the naturally funny part. Well, um. I plead the fifth. I am with Queen April when she says, "What if I run out of funny" and people don't want to read me anymore. Well shoot, hun, that is when we have to pretend to be all deep. You make a favorite smells list or resort to ripping off material from your kids.

Action figures up the whazoo in the shower...that gets em every time.

I am vowing to prove our state of disunion to you all...photos of the mess will be coming soon. My teenager just needs to pull the sheets off of his face (it is almost noon, you know) and help me upload them. Be afraid, be very afraid.

The not so organized, totally un-organic, in denial about being un-healthy, non-cooking, apparently non-cleaning, not-so-funny, Maid.

What does that mean?

2008-05-28T21:51:00.001-07:00

Just seconds after posting the moron blog, my youngest daughter (4 yrs) was watching and waiting her turn to brush my hair (I know, I don't get the appeal either), when she said to her almost 6 year old sister:

"Brush her hair in Spanish."

Hola, people...What does that mean?

When the moron speaks...

2008-05-28T21:12:00.000-07:00

I was just pondering some of the joys of parenting, and before any of you think I don't enjoy it, let me issue this disclaimer: Sarcasm keeps me sane.

The thing I was thinking long and hard about today was the dumb things that I have had to say to my children. Or the things that have just slipped out.

Do you ever go to discipline them and what comes out of your mouth is a useless rambling that makes no sense and you get laughed at? I hate when that happens. I have it all thought out, but when the words mix with the emotion...I sound like a moron.

EXAMPLE: "Don't chew with your mouth full." ??? You knew what I meant right? See, moron.

I may be a lot of things, but I know I am not a moron. I mean I have a degree for cryin' out loud. A real one, not one of those Sally Struthers mail order ones.

So anyway...short but sweet, here is my list of things that I have said to my (moronic)children lately:

* Would you just grow up. (Um, yeah mom...I'll get right on that.) Then they do.

* Don't ride your brother like a horse.

* Please fill the bathtub with water, not just shampoo.

* When you take a bath, please wash with soap. (Must specify body parts too)

* Don't pick your sisters nose.

* Gross, don't eat that. (I will spare you)

* Put your clothes in the laundry room...only the dirty clothes please...oh, and in the hamper...not on the floor! DUH!

* Brush your teeth...with toothpaste...for more than five seconds. Nope, do it again.

* Please don't shove the phone at me after telling the person on the phone that I am on the toilet.

* Please don't tell the person on the phone that I am on the toilet.

* Those aren't your underwear! ??? (Wasn't my husband, in case you are wondering.)

* Please don't hurl the baby headlong into the wall while pushing him on his pooh bear toy. (Smack! *%#$*)

* No you may not use my scrapbooking scissors to cut your hair.

* Who's hair is this on the bathroom counter?

* Get that diaper off your head.

* Get that cereal box off your head. (Teenager)

* Get that (fill in the blank) off your head.

* Don't color on the walls.

* Who colored on the wall? Cabinet? Pantry door? (A child literally wrote Pantry on the pantry door...thanks Martha Stewart...we couldn't have found it without you.)

* No thank you, I don't want dread locks.

* Ouch, you are pulling my hair!

* You shouldn't drink soda for breakfast...now hand me my diet coke, crushed ice please.

The dumbest thing I have said to my kids lately:

"Who wiped this booger on the wall?"
As if.
They are so not answering that question.

The dumbest thing my kids have done lately:

Wiping boogers on the wall/floor/furniture/bedding...hello? We own stock in kleenex, buy toilet paper in bulk at Costco, and have been known to have $50.00 worth of wipees on hand at any given time...must we be so gross?

My apologies to those who don't have children, really, they are a delight. (Giggle giggle)

To those of you who share in my parental frustration...what are some dumb things you have said as of late?

God Bless the USA

2008-05-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

About half my lifetime ago, I was sitting in my dad's car being an arrogant teenager. (Okay, so a little more than half my lifetime ago...alright.) My dad was in northern California and I was a little far from my mom and my friends, and where I called home.

I was suffering from the normal teenage angst...boy A didn't like me, boy B did, I didn't like boy B, boy C and I both kinda liked each other so we kept in touch through letters (way before email) and I was all too worried about where I shopped, what I wore, and how I looked. (If I had only known then that several years into the future it would take twice as long and twice as much make up to look half as good, right?)

So I remember my dad going off on what I thought was a useless tangent about memorial day and what it meant. He talked about the different wars, and seemed to focus on the Vietnam war. My dad was a career military officer...a pilot in the Army...and had worked his way up the totem pole where a lot of people liked and respected him. He never served in the Vietnam war, or any conflict for that matter, but I'm sure the reality that he might have to, clouded his life in some way. At any rate, as he was telling me about the Vietnam war, he began to ask me if I knew why it happened or when. He asked me if I had studied it in school and I think I "lovingly" snapped at him with a typical teenage "I don't know and I don't care!"

Well, let me tell you that what ensued was probably the most passionate conversation or should I say lecture that I ever experienced with him. We did not and still do not have a real close relationship. I mainly feel that it is because my parents divorced and when I had to choose who to live with, I chose mom. (Kids should never have to make that choice...especially preteen girls who have many biological reasons for needing to be with mom!) I don't fault either of my parents for this, it is what it is, but I understand that the defining straw in my relationship with my dad was simply that I chose to live with my mom. I wish that he could understand that by choosing her I wasn't rejecting him, but I guess I will never understand his pain either. His military career took him to various other states after the divorce, and although I saw him a couple of times a year, it affected our relationship.

The reason I share that personal blurb about our relationship was to explain to you how I was impacted by his "lecture." I think as kids we always look at our parents from our own narcissistic points of view. We think they were born and bred to be put on this planet as our parents and we often can't see them as much else.

That day, I saw my dad as a truly passionate American. I saw him as a really dedicated serviceman. I think I also saw a little history professor and politician in him too.

He pulled the car over, and in response to my arrogant "I don't care" said to me:

"Young lady, a lot of people not much older than you fought and died for our country so you could sit your pampered little butt (he didn't say butt) in school and not care."

Ouch. I got his point. He made several others in the course of that conversation, but the first one, was the most powerful to me. It is the statement that said, "This is bigger than you sweetie pie...you need to show some gratitude."

He wasn't mad at me, but it was personal to him. He had lived a life rich with military experience wherein he knew that his own life could be taken so that our freedoms could be protected. He voluntarily signed up for that and made it his life's work. I don't think he cared if other people were ignorant about it, but I think he wanted me to be fully aware of something that meant so much to him. After all, I was his daughter. A daughter of an Army Major.

To this day, those words resonate with me from time to time. I sometimes forget how privileged I am (we are) to live in this country, to be protected by strangers who love this country even more than I do, and to enjoy the freedoms that I enjoy.

Because of a soldier, I can:

* Pray to God at home, in church, and even at school, or choose not to.
* Congregate peacefully to object to something like abortion or have one.
* Choose not to carry a weapon, or be thankful that I can.
* Sleep peacefully in a house instead of a bomb shelter.
* Go just about anywhere I want.
* Go to work or school and not ever think about what is happening in other countries.
* Be ignorant of the battles fought throughout history, question them, or simply learn about them.
* Send my husband off to work, instead of war.

There is so much more, but as we enjoy our Memorial Day Weekend, I just wanted to share those thoughts with you all. Even the soldiers who haven't "fought" the wars, have helped win the battles.

Thank you to our Nation's Armed Forces, past - present - and future, and thank you to my dad.

Major William Thomas West, Jr. You have taught me a lesson that lives on in my heart and will continue to live on in my children.

"I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free...and I won't forget the men who died and gave that right to me...and I gladly stand up next to you and defend her still today, because there ain't no doubt I love this land...God Bless the USA!"