I am a pathetic housekeeper, really! The only time I accomplish some deep cleaning is, oh, you know...when company is coming! So, my parents are arriving tomorrow morning from the West coast, and I have been scrubbing, washing, sweeping, mopping, vacuuming like a madwoman for the past two days in between running kids to tennis, gymnastics and the pool. Why do I do this to myself? My kids and husband avoid me during these times because I turn into the wicked witch from the west.
Certain friends of mine have actual cleaning schedules. I tried that...once. I guess it required too much self discipline or something. Monday was laundry day; Tuesday, floors; Wednesday, bathrooms, etc. I'd really like to implement something like this into my days. Then, perhaps I wouldn't become such a basket case right before family shows up on my doorstep. Instead of washing 18 windows and 3 sliding doors inside and out hours before, I could actually start weeks ahead of time. I could space out the vacuuming over a few days to avoid the incessant barking of our dog, who goes completely loony during the cleaning process. Imagine having a clean house weekly instead of quarterly!
Tony doesn't understand any of this madness, not that I'm too concerned about it. Goodness gracious, I need to keep up the appearances that my house looks like it's spotless all the time. I guess it's one of those masks I wear, you know, the "I have it all together" look or at least my house does. Truly, when I clean my house, it's less about the fact that it's dirty and more about people's perceptions of me. This is the part Tony doesn't get. "Who cares?" is his cry. Well, golly, jeepers, I sure do care. How could I even think of having family or friends stay at my house with toys strewn about, dust on my shelves or bird doo-doo on the windows? It's okay if my family and I live in that muck most of the time, but I sure don't want to advertise that to anyone else.
Now you know the "real" me. I'm coming out of the closet, coming clean! I am a severe procrastinator with regard to cleaning. I may even be allergic to it. I'll let you know if I break out into hives or my eyes become puffy or swollen. Perhaps then Tony will fire that lousy housekeeper! Wishful thinking, I'm sure.
Alas, I'm tired and sore, but my tasks are complete...mostly. I didn't get all the white doors wiped free of fingerprints and other odd stains; a few windows are still dirty; weeds still permeate the front flowerbed. Oh well, there's always tomorrow at 6 am before I leave for the airport, or not! I don't want my parents to think I'm perfect.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
Benefits of Drug-Induced Insomnia
1. Uninterrupted computer time at 12:30 am to research the antibiotic I'm taking, Levaquin, and discovering certain side effects can be insomnia. Confusion and hallucinations are other affects of the drug which I also experienced as I lay tossing, turning and generally wigging out before I actually arose out of bed to do my research.
2. No distractions while I'm responding to my email.
3. I don't have to hiss at my children, "Be quiet because I'm having my quiet time with the Lord" since they are all asleep during the hours I'm awake.
4. Finishing the book Envy by Bob Sorge by 2:30 am.
5. Enjoying extended prayer time for everyone/everywhere, even though I'm in a catatonic state and can barely think clearly.
6. Eating a piece of Milky Way dark chocolate and noone knows or cares.
7. Listening to the silence; it's golden.
8. Plenty of time to plan the next vacation.
9. Contemplating that this might be a good time of the day to scrapbook....or not!
10. Thinking bad thoughts and harboring anger towards the doctor who prescribed this without telling me that one of the side effects is severe sleeplessness.
11. Crawling in bed at 4 am wishing for sleep but knowing that when the alarm clock rings at 6:00 am, I'll still be awake.
I think I'll ask the doctor to prescribe some Valium to go with this Levaquin...Nap today, anyone?
2. No distractions while I'm responding to my email.
3. I don't have to hiss at my children, "Be quiet because I'm having my quiet time with the Lord" since they are all asleep during the hours I'm awake.
4. Finishing the book Envy by Bob Sorge by 2:30 am.
5. Enjoying extended prayer time for everyone/everywhere, even though I'm in a catatonic state and can barely think clearly.
6. Eating a piece of Milky Way dark chocolate and noone knows or cares.
7. Listening to the silence; it's golden.
8. Plenty of time to plan the next vacation.
9. Contemplating that this might be a good time of the day to scrapbook....or not!
10. Thinking bad thoughts and harboring anger towards the doctor who prescribed this without telling me that one of the side effects is severe sleeplessness.
11. Crawling in bed at 4 am wishing for sleep but knowing that when the alarm clock rings at 6:00 am, I'll still be awake.
I think I'll ask the doctor to prescribe some Valium to go with this Levaquin...Nap today, anyone?
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Warning! Caution! Take Heed!
Mostly, you better just get off the roads now because my 16-year-old just got his driver's license today. He tells me he wants to "go somewhere" tonight "by himself"; however, he doesn't know where to go. Maddie, 6, says, "He's all grown-up now." Yeah, like she'd know anything about that. Well, I have a whole new set of things to worry about, so please pray for me! Just when life was getting to be such a breeze...yeah, right!
Whispers
Many times as I read God's word, a verse literally jumps off the page and grabs hold of me. This morning was like that. Proverbs 26:20 says, "For lack of wood the fire goes out, and where there is no whisperer, contention quiets down." I've been a whisperer before, have you? I've thrown more wood on the fire, keeping it burning, hurting others. It's embarassing to get caught adding wood to the flame. So simple the solution! Don't whisper; don't be the source; don't be the wood. Your words will never come back to bite you if you're quiet. Reminds me of another verse in James which says, "So also the tongue is a small part of the body, and yet it boasts of great things. Behold, how great a forest is set aflame by such a small fire!" It's the whispers that start out small and quiet, yet can quite quickly become a raging fire out of control. Help me, Lord, to keep my mouth shut!
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Out of the Mouths of Babes
Maddie to her grandma (Tony's mom) while driving the two hours to Portland, Oregon on our vacation: "Why do you keep on talking?" It didn't faze grandma one bit, and she kept right on gabbing! Now, if I'd have said that...
Maddie to me during dinner with grandma and grandpa: "Why is grandpa's nose so big?" Hmmmm....
Maddie to me in the car with grandma and grandpa: "Why did grandma pick a man who smokes?" Everytime grandpa would go outside to puff on his pipe, Maddie would report to us that he was smoking...as she does everytime she sees ANYONE smoke!
Maddie to me during dinner with grandma and grandpa: "Why is grandpa's nose so big?" Hmmmm....
Maddie to me in the car with grandma and grandpa: "Why did grandma pick a man who smokes?" Everytime grandpa would go outside to puff on his pipe, Maddie would report to us that he was smoking...as she does everytime she sees ANYONE smoke!
Monday, July 23, 2007
Blonde Confessions
I have what is now becoming a very serious problem. This weekend I locked my keys in the car for the 6th time in 6 years! What is wrong with me? I really thought I was becoming a paranoid schizophrenic about my keys because it is not uncommon for me to check at least twice BEFORE I shut the car door to make sure my keys are in fact in my purse. But, I still did it!
Let me recount that myriad of other instances in which I have accomplished this feat. The first time, I had just moved to Indiana when I locked them in the car at a Pizza Hut. I didn't realize it at the time because I had been talking on the cell phone while my then 1 year old had knocked the keys on the floor after playing with them. After my kids and I had a nice pizza dinner and returned to the car, I panicked after not locating them. Peering in the car, I noticed they were laying on the floor, completely unavailable to me. Of course, Tony had to be in New York and was also completely unavailable to bail me out. That time, I called a locksmith, who thank goodness, seemed to be on call 24/7. Unfortunately, he charged me more than my husband would have.
The second and third occurances were at post offices, and oddly enough, also happened while I was distracted on the cell phone. That blasted phone and my blonde brain are just not a good combination. The fourth happening? I still can't figure this one out, but I locked the keys in my running car at a Wendy's. I didn't think that was actually possible, but apparently it is. Don't try it! The fourth lock-out was at a craft store. Fortunately, this a good place to be when you are waiting for your hubby to rescue you. I shopped until Tony had me paged on the store intercom. All was well once again.
I know you are wondering at this point why I didn't have enough brains to buy a magnetic key box. Tony did too. He strongly encouraged me to drive post haste to the hardware store and buy one of those thingamajigs. Being the submissive wife that I am, I obeyed his urgings. But, alas, I drove around with it sitting IN my car for weeks before I finally lost it. So, I never took care of my problem. Instead, I just became a freak about checking to make sure my keys were in my purse. It didn't help, obviously.
This weekend, while traveling back from a tennis tournament with Nick and Maddie, I locked my keys in the car while pumping gas at a convenience store in a town about an hour from where we live. Not only that, but my cell phone and my purse were in the car. How did you do that, you ask? I have no earthly idea. I mean, I wouldn't have done that! I merely threw the keys in the driver seat while I was standing beside the car waiting for the tank to fill. Personally, I think the force of my throw caused the wrong button to get pushed on the remote which apparently, locked all the doors. My first thought, honestly? "Tony is going to kill me!" My second thought? "Does Tony really need to know about this? I can just call a locksmith, right? What Tony doesn't know doesn't hurt him, right?" Bad idea!
The nice ladies in the convenience store became a big help to me in my efforts to avoid calling hubby by allowing me to use the phone to try my first plan of action...the police! This became my main resource because when I asked them about a locksmith, they gave me blank looks. Ahhh, the police it is! Not such a good idea it turns out. Did you know that vans have an anti-theft locking system installed? Neither did I. The police's antiquated tool doesn't work on these new-fangled vans. I also discovered that itty bitty, hole-in-the-wall towns don't apparently have locksmiths that work when people need them. If you haven't guess it by now, I was at my last resort...hubby! I guess I did give him quite a scare, however, when I told him I was in this tiny town with a policeman beside me. He later told me that he thought I was crying. I wasn't crying; I was scared to tell him my horrible sin!
Needless to say, while the three of us were sitting in the store, waiting an hour for Tony to arrive to unlock the car, we constructively occupied ourselves by playing "I spy with my little eye something...." Not many have the opportunity to spend such quality time together. Well, we had to do something to keep Maddie from bouncing off the walls. She wanted to eat everything she in sight, and I only had 3 dollars in my pocket because my purse was in the lock-up. Two of those dollars came from the nice policeman because Maddie said she wanted something to drink. The boldness of a 6-year-old. My 16-year-old would have died rather than admit he was thirsty or hungry yet had no money. So, this little guessing game entertained the energizer bunny, aka Maddie, for the next hour until you-know-who arrived.
My knight in shining armor rode in an hour later on his white steed and rescued his princess from her idiotic predicament...complete without a "what were you thinking" or a "I can't believe you did it again". He even took us all out to the DQ for an ice cream. What a man! My next goal besides getting a more brunette brain is to buy another key box!
There is a spiritual application to this story. How many times do I repeat the same sin, am afraid to confess to my Savior (as if He doesn't already know), and wait from Him to rescue me? Jesus delights when I come to Him, admit my mistakes and my shame and ask for help. He isn't standing there with a baseball bat, either, saying, "I can't believe you did this again. When are you going to learn?" While I am attempting to get help through other means, Jesus is waiting for me to crawl into His arms full of love and forgiveness. I simply need to quit trying to do things on my own, conjuring up my own faulty solutions to my problems and run to my rescuer. He's waiting!
"What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God--through Jesus Christ our Lord!" Romans 7:24-25
"...he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us." Psalm 103:10-12
"'Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He was call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. Psalm 91:14-15
Let me recount that myriad of other instances in which I have accomplished this feat. The first time, I had just moved to Indiana when I locked them in the car at a Pizza Hut. I didn't realize it at the time because I had been talking on the cell phone while my then 1 year old had knocked the keys on the floor after playing with them. After my kids and I had a nice pizza dinner and returned to the car, I panicked after not locating them. Peering in the car, I noticed they were laying on the floor, completely unavailable to me. Of course, Tony had to be in New York and was also completely unavailable to bail me out. That time, I called a locksmith, who thank goodness, seemed to be on call 24/7. Unfortunately, he charged me more than my husband would have.
The second and third occurances were at post offices, and oddly enough, also happened while I was distracted on the cell phone. That blasted phone and my blonde brain are just not a good combination. The fourth happening? I still can't figure this one out, but I locked the keys in my running car at a Wendy's. I didn't think that was actually possible, but apparently it is. Don't try it! The fourth lock-out was at a craft store. Fortunately, this a good place to be when you are waiting for your hubby to rescue you. I shopped until Tony had me paged on the store intercom. All was well once again.
I know you are wondering at this point why I didn't have enough brains to buy a magnetic key box. Tony did too. He strongly encouraged me to drive post haste to the hardware store and buy one of those thingamajigs. Being the submissive wife that I am, I obeyed his urgings. But, alas, I drove around with it sitting IN my car for weeks before I finally lost it. So, I never took care of my problem. Instead, I just became a freak about checking to make sure my keys were in my purse. It didn't help, obviously.
This weekend, while traveling back from a tennis tournament with Nick and Maddie, I locked my keys in the car while pumping gas at a convenience store in a town about an hour from where we live. Not only that, but my cell phone and my purse were in the car. How did you do that, you ask? I have no earthly idea. I mean, I wouldn't have done that! I merely threw the keys in the driver seat while I was standing beside the car waiting for the tank to fill. Personally, I think the force of my throw caused the wrong button to get pushed on the remote which apparently, locked all the doors. My first thought, honestly? "Tony is going to kill me!" My second thought? "Does Tony really need to know about this? I can just call a locksmith, right? What Tony doesn't know doesn't hurt him, right?" Bad idea!
The nice ladies in the convenience store became a big help to me in my efforts to avoid calling hubby by allowing me to use the phone to try my first plan of action...the police! This became my main resource because when I asked them about a locksmith, they gave me blank looks. Ahhh, the police it is! Not such a good idea it turns out. Did you know that vans have an anti-theft locking system installed? Neither did I. The police's antiquated tool doesn't work on these new-fangled vans. I also discovered that itty bitty, hole-in-the-wall towns don't apparently have locksmiths that work when people need them. If you haven't guess it by now, I was at my last resort...hubby! I guess I did give him quite a scare, however, when I told him I was in this tiny town with a policeman beside me. He later told me that he thought I was crying. I wasn't crying; I was scared to tell him my horrible sin!
Needless to say, while the three of us were sitting in the store, waiting an hour for Tony to arrive to unlock the car, we constructively occupied ourselves by playing "I spy with my little eye something...." Not many have the opportunity to spend such quality time together. Well, we had to do something to keep Maddie from bouncing off the walls. She wanted to eat everything she in sight, and I only had 3 dollars in my pocket because my purse was in the lock-up. Two of those dollars came from the nice policeman because Maddie said she wanted something to drink. The boldness of a 6-year-old. My 16-year-old would have died rather than admit he was thirsty or hungry yet had no money. So, this little guessing game entertained the energizer bunny, aka Maddie, for the next hour until you-know-who arrived.
My knight in shining armor rode in an hour later on his white steed and rescued his princess from her idiotic predicament...complete without a "what were you thinking" or a "I can't believe you did it again". He even took us all out to the DQ for an ice cream. What a man! My next goal besides getting a more brunette brain is to buy another key box!
There is a spiritual application to this story. How many times do I repeat the same sin, am afraid to confess to my Savior (as if He doesn't already know), and wait from Him to rescue me? Jesus delights when I come to Him, admit my mistakes and my shame and ask for help. He isn't standing there with a baseball bat, either, saying, "I can't believe you did this again. When are you going to learn?" While I am attempting to get help through other means, Jesus is waiting for me to crawl into His arms full of love and forgiveness. I simply need to quit trying to do things on my own, conjuring up my own faulty solutions to my problems and run to my rescuer. He's waiting!
"What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God--through Jesus Christ our Lord!" Romans 7:24-25
"...he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us." Psalm 103:10-12
"'Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He was call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. Psalm 91:14-15
Friday, July 20, 2007
The Purse Hunt
Ok, I admit, this is a completely frivolous posting; however, because I am a woman AND a shopper, I must tell about this. I have been purse hunting for a few months now searching for the perfect purse. It must be just the right size, not too big, not too small, the right number of pockets inside and most definitely include a cell phone pocket! My dilemma most of the time is cost. I just don't want to pay through the nose for a purse. My sister, who is the supreme opposite of me, would say, "If you like it, buy it, whatever the cost." She does this well, and I'm glad for that, but I just can't!! I need a deal, a sale, a bargain.So, I don't mind telling you that I finally struck gold. I was looking at Macy's again and discovered THE purse. It was a Kathy Van Zeeland for you brand name snobs, the right size, with all the appropriate pockets, and the right price. It was marked down from $89 to $22, a real steal in my pocketbook. Incidentally, I've been told before not to advertise to others how much I pay for things, but I've thrown that advice right out the window. Sorry, Miss Manners. If I get a deal, I want everyone to know about it.
I showed my fabulous find to Tony when he arrived home from a long days work. "So, how much do you think I paid for this?" He gives it a cursory glance. "I don't know." Of course, I want him to guess, but he's not playing today. I excitedly spilled the amounts to him. "I saved almost $70 buying this purse." Typical husband response, "So, you saved me money today." It's the simple things in life that make us girls happy. I saved my husband money and bought a purse!
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