So I just found the chip that I was SUPPOSED to put in my velcro ankle relay bracelet. You know, the ankle bracelet that each of my relay members would frantically rip off of each other's legs the second we reached the exchange in the hopes of shaving seconds off of our time. 

That's what I get for preparing for a relay in the dark at 5 in the morning on no sleep. 

I knew there wasn't an invisible chip embedded in those velcro fibers. I just KNEW it. 

Sorry, team. I told you I do better with a conducting baton.

***Update - 1:47 p.m.***

It's just now dawning me that today is Thursday, and there are no random thoughts to be found. My brain is a mush full of teaching, making 15,000 cupcakes, picking up rodents (hamsters), $200 plus Wal-Mart trips (how does that happen?), pre-birthday party excitement, group lessons, and cleaning. And cleaning, and cleaning.

Random thoughts will resume next week........

Monday, Monday

Just ran a 10 K in a marathon on four hours of sleep. 

Heading to the shower before I conduct my last youth orchestra concert of the year this afternoon. 

I've been having nightmares about this day for two weeks. Thank goodness for good running partners and Starbucks.

I think I might have been the only person analyzing the pitch of the horn at the start of the race. Just to let you know, it was a B. 

I really belong no where near an athletic event.

Just hand me my baton, please.

Induction

Greyson and I belong to a secret society. A world full of front loaders, side loaders, automated side loaders, and trash. Lots and lots of trash. Taking their rightful places at the table this morning, 'lamp' and 'brush' were introduced to the wonders and majesty of these breathtaking beauties. And I do mean breathtaking. Little boy understands the need to document historic unions. Much like a public relations assistant, he makes sure the necessary photos are obtained, and that proper recording methods are utilized. 

I surely don't know what cavemen did before quality you-tube recordings of garbage trucks. 

I surely don't know what I did before quality you-tube recordings of garbage trucks. 

It probably involved leisurely mornings of the morning news, drinking coffee, applying make-up, and petting the cat. The cat, news, and make-up are long gone. Sorry Brownie. 

Funny thing is, I don't miss it all that much. And I'm becoming strangely appreciative of the intricacies of waste management.

Short and random thoughts Thursday

I am always indebted to the first person or two that rescue a boring/bad post with a comment. Thank you Elizabeth and Dad for yesterday's rescue.

Some bloggers can say "I ate a banana for breakfast," and get 1,078 comments thirty minutes after it's written. That blows my mind.

Erick and I felt really rebellious because we sang "red and yellow, black and white," instead of "every color dark or light" last night in our son's bible class. I understand the need for the politically correct statement......Erick does not. He likes the old version better. We need to get out more.

Blueberries combined with anything is the best food on the planet. I wish my backyard was a big blueberry patch. Oh, how I would love to see what that would do to an unfinished wood floor.

Let's just not talk about the unfinished wood floors anymore. I would rather talk about root canals or something more pleasant.

I didn't mean I was going to start accosting Wal-Mart shoppers in the bread aisle with religious ramblings. I just meant I need to let people see and know I am a Christian more. Sometimes things don't translate into a post they way I had intended.

This is one of the main reasons that I stay away from deep religious thoughts and political discussions on here. I'm afraid I will be misunderstood (or understood) and lose friends. If I stick to the neutral topics of kids, dirt, music, ear infections, and husbands, I know I'm in pretty safe territory. Or maybe it's because I don't have any deep thoughts.

I could never be a politician.

And with that, I'll leave you with this.

A politician's wife, and a guy who cares nothing for politics. But hey, she's blonde and she was a teacher. No wonder he's getting along with her just fine......

While the cat's away, the mice will play. And cause trouble. And make messes. And wear bad outfits.

Faith and the bread aisle

I don't know how much I'll get written here, because at this insanely early hour of the morning, it's just me and the two year old.

For real, if someone can give me advice on getting two year olds to sleep past 5:45 in the morning, I'll take it.

z s dddfgdfdmfddfmndfgrjkntrjknntrktnj5

Thank you, Greyson. I'm sure these early morning typing sessions are going to reap great rewards someday. Someday when you're thirteen and all you want to do is sleep and take showers. Ahhhh....

Now Greyson, go back to your big purple friend.

I really was going to write about something serious this morning. Last night after my youth orchestra rehearsal, I stopped by the Super Wal-Mart down in the city. Also known as, 'the Super Wal-Mart that I only go to when it's my last shopping resort and I realize I will be weaving through police cars and shoplifters outside of the store when I exit'. I don't know of a better way to write that last sentence. It's wrong, and I know it.

Scurrying around the store grabbing the bare essentials I was stopped mid bread grab by a dashing man (and his dashing wife, but she was too busy trying to find packaged strawberry shortcakes). He was too busy trying to place where he knew me from, and finding out where that might be. Church, do I live around here.....? 

Beginning to realize he has never seen me or met be before and was really just attempting to open a conversation about religion, my palms began to sweat. I don't even know what religion he was representing, except that he was asking me about North Korea and whether or not I knew that situation was foreshadowed to be WW III in the Bible. That and the fact that Jesus was already here on Earth. There were some other things, but I obviously zoned out on that last part and began scanning my choices of milled versus stone ground wheat. Whatever that means.

But I was struck with his boldness. The ability to lure someone into a conversation on the bread aisle and talk about religious beliefs without fear of rejection or condemnation. And you know what, I bet whatever religion he is representing is thriving somewhere. A religion that might be rooted in evangelism, reaching out, recruiting....whatever you want to call it. 

But walking away from that bread aisle, I made a vow to myself to reach out more. Whether it's at a Super Wal-Mart in the city or within the confines of my day to day existence, there is such a need for Christians to be vulnerable and share the faith we have spent a lifetime nurturing and cultivating. I don't think God cares whether you view your faith as a seedling or a giant redwood tree that has weathered seasons of storms.

I just think he cares that we share it. Even if it's on the bread aisle.

Poppy

I can't do baby books. I've never completed a journal. I can blog about my Dad and all of the wonderful things he does with my kids, and know they are going to read this someday. Raegan - today your Poppy spent an hour and a half creating mythical creatures and horrible self-portraits of himself simply to see you smile. He loves you so much!

Thanks, Dad.

Dinner

Cottage cheese, strawberries, peaches, spinach, broccoli, orange juice, water, yogurt, bananas, and dried cranberries. The kids loved it, but weren't crazy about the color. I thought the cranberries would make it beautifully red, but instead turned it kind of brown. Who cares....they ate it. I told them the chunks were just like fruit ice cream bites. (Maybe time for a new blender. Too many chunks to suit 2 and soon to be 5 year olds.) Thinking about adding food coloring next time. I never said I was a purist....

I'm sorry for your sake that I encourage this

I don't think this fashion statement is going to win you any best dressed awards at school, but I think it's beautiful. I hope hanging these two symbols from your beltloops draws each of these items closer to your heart. I can only pray that in 10 years we still see them hanging around. 

I'll just choose to forget about the fact that you stole this violin back from your violin teacher today after giving it to her as a Christmas gift........

But believe me, honey, I know the need to have a violin hanging from your hip. You just take that gift right back.

Your thoughts are probably better than mine Thursday

I'm not doing too hot in the random thoughts department this week. In addition, the two year old tugging on my leg at 7:20 in the morning insisting that I sit on the floor while he plays remote control cars isn't helping my current thought situation. 

So, much like yesterday's outfit, you've been warned.

I hate ants, especially when they're in my house. Erick sprays 10 times a day, but they can't seem to get enough of the boxed, sealed, duct-taped boxes in our pantries. Today's a good morning. We have only seen 5 in our kitchen.

Randy the folk singer/professional painter is painting the exterior of our house today. I don't know whether to hand him a harmonica and tie-dyed shirt or a paintbrush. Maybe I'll hand him all three. I don't care what he's playing or wearing as long as he's putting 'cargo' colored paint all over my faded brown eyesore.

I don't know what my husband does for a living. I know he writes and records music, meets lots of people, records people, does commercials, meets foreign dignitaries (maybe not), and barters with folksingers who want to record their music in exchange for exterior paint jobs. That's the part I love.

My daughter can't stand to see stray hairs sticking out when her hair is pulled into a ponytail. After spraying her hair into a hair helmet each morning that rivals Jim Bob Duggar's, she is usually satisfied. Maybe if she wouldn't insist on ripping through her hair each morning with a one inch long my little pony hairbrush we wouldn't have this broken hair dilemma. 

After visiting the dog park a few weeks ago, I believe my outfit from yesterday morning will blend in nicely next time I'm there. All I need are real Ugg boots, cute short shorts, perfectly groomed flat-ironed hair, sunglasses and a teeny tiny newborn puppy that has no business being at the dog park. But what's a girl to do with ugg boots that need some breaking in and a sweet little puppy that needs to be introduced to society? Why, head to the dog park of course.

One of these Thursdays I hope to have a special post on the dog park pecking order. It's such a fascinating place to observe behavior. I'm not talking about the dogs' behavior, either.

I think that's about it for today. It's now 9:01 and it has taken me over an hour and a half to dress kids, feed breakfast, go back to the computer, break up fights, shoo kids away from the computer, spray hair into helmets, break up fights, drive to pre-k, drive to Starbucks, cook eggs for hungry two year old, and....complete this post. 

Hope you have a good Thursday.

I always knew wearing way-too short shorts, wool knee high socks, $7 dollar store imitation ugg boots, and a high school sweatshirt circa 1996 would come in handy while taking my daughter to school. Fear of discovery of my outfit helped me avoid being the 4th car in a 3 car pile-up this morning. All I heard was 'boom, boom', and the sound of my own accelerator hitting the floorboards. Nothing like am embarrassing early morning outfit to keep me quick on my toes. 

I now know why my mom refused to take me to school in her houserobe and slippers. Lesson learned.

However, I'm giving myself complete permission to wear this ensemble around the house. Neighbors and drop-in company....consider yourself warned.

I will miss the days when cement mixers, sticks, mud, acorns, chunking rocks, long walks, and sloshing through puddles occupied my son's mornings. I love days like today.

We sang, we saw, I plucked.

Raegan and I made it back from our trip in one piece. No careening semi-trucks were to be found, and all of the choruses received gold medals!!! These were my two main concerns regarding the weekend. Raegan and I bonded, slept in the same bed, rode lots of elevators, made new friends, and just enjoyed being girls. My eyebrows received some much needed hotel-bathroom-lighting attention, and Raegan found a new passion for personal grooming. I guess the hotel bathroom did it for her, too. I think she mastered the art of brushing 18 inch long hair fresh out of the shower, which is no small feat. That's one torch I'm happy to pass!

I'm really proud of all the kids. There's something really incredible about young kids and teenagers spending a weekend glorifying God. I hope my own will want to do the same in a few years.

C of C vehicles as far as the eye can see. Seriously, they come in droves.

At the Starbucks bar. I guess they figured if they wanted any church business this weekend, they better put away the 'Under 21 restricted' sign and get out the coffee and cappuccino makers.

Killing time courtesy of imported African art.

Annual picture in front of the elephant. Since I held her the first year, I'm determined to hold her each year. Until she's my size I guess. 

A successful egg hunt. I think there were some frustrated older kids who got robbed by the pre-k'ers.

Another year. Another awards ceremony. The same infatuation. 

Thursday on Wednesday

I’m a day early, but that’s just how I roll sometimes. 

I bought a new pair of running shoes today and feel like I can conquer the world. Or at least a 10K. 

I just had a heart attack that my daughter’s birthday is a few weeks away and I am nowhere close to having purchased hamsters or a cage. Yes, that was hamsters PLURAL. Apparently, the breed that won’t maul a kid’s finger do better in a colony. Great.

I always secretly wanted to live in a colony. An amish colony. But I imagine they don’t get to wear g-string skirtinis. (Have yet to receive the bottom half of the swimsuit of my dreams. I’m officially getting scared.)

Please don’t EVER call me ma’am again, handsome Starbucks employee. I would hate to have to boycott your establishment. (Side note – passing by any Starbucks, my 2 year old says “coffee-mocha.” I will only feel okay about this when he starts saying “books-stories” when we pass by the library.)

Raegan and I are going to Dallas again this weekend. Praying that another semi truck doesn’t cross the median coming at me head on, and flip onto the highway 20 feet behind me. That’s something only Keanu and Sandra should have to witness.

Wearing lip gloss makes my daughter act sweeter and more compliant. It’s like she takes on this alternate personality. I’ll never understand it, but thank goodness for sparkly, gooey, sticky lips. I’m finding myself suggesting she go apply lip gloss before ‘need to be on our best behavior’ events. This will probably have some negative impact years from now, I’m sure.

My ears are ringing from extended piccolo exposure this week. Don’t ask. May the Lord shine his face upon you should your child ever decide to play the piccolo. 

On that ‘note’, I’m off. Be back in a few days!

Ahhh Monday...

I won't miss you.

Home from the "Rockies"

We're home. Good times, too much food, lots and lots of hiking over treacherous mountains (lost), angry bats, ballet flats (Miranda), cactus pants (Jeanie), NO KIDS, boulder throwing, football retrieving in arctic water (guys), red ants (my shoes), wind, wind, devotionals, catch phrase, diving for cover from angry bat (Luke and Addi), music, and of course, the hubbie.

We had a great weekend. I'm determined to visit every state park this summer with friends from church. ('Visit' as in rustic camping). I informed them of this tonight at bible study and was practically heckled out of the room. I tell you, it will happen.

And finally, a note to self: Be sure to read numerous e mails informing you that your choir from church will be performing the evening you return. Do not casually saunter into practice wearing grubby camping clothes and sporting windblown hair from the morning. You might just find yourself standing in holey boots and wrinkled jeans in front of the entire congregation.

Oh well. At least my mom didn't kill the betta fish. Or my children.



The bat

A VERY angry animal.

Angry animal takes flight. See center.

Wonder-boy bat catcher Jeffrey.

They're only smiling because the bat was captured then bagged......

By Scott

Josh, Tryggestad, and Erick have rhythm. You heard it....Tryggestad.

Windblown.

Not so windblown.

It's 12:30 in the morning. I have no kids, dogs, or betta fish to take care of. I can't seem to make myself go to bed, because I'm afraid that this will have all been just a dream and they will all be back, waking me up at 5:30 a.m.

Well, they won't.

They'll be waking up my parents instead.

I love you Mom and Dad, and Jeff and Candita for taking all the furry friends for the weekend.

We'll call you from the road. Or not.

Thoughts....

I'm disappointed in myself that I haven't been gathering various thoughts in my head this week. Normally I start sweating on Tuesday if I haven't thought of any yet.

It's Thursday, and I still haven't thought of any.

I do remember reading a post from Sarah that said Hong Kong Chef was, in fact, edible. This made me very happy for the little restaurant. I'm hoping they can pull through this recession and succeed as a small business after all. They just need to fix that neon sign first.

Erick is a saint and let me sleep until 7:30 today. Greyson is not a saint and awakened us at 5:30 a.m. like he does every morning. At some point, this has got to stop. For some strange reason, I become really teary and obsessive about things that do not matter in the grand scheme of things if I haven't gotten enough sleep.

Like spotlessly clean wood floors, absolutely no streaks or smears on my stovetop, all of the coffee stains removed from the khaki couches (why, oh WHY did you buy khaki couches, you clueless young married couple), no sticky surfaces anywhere in the whole house, wanting every particle of dirt and Raegan's hair that my central vac can't reach removed from beneath the refrigerator and entertainment set,......etc., etc.

It's sad that those are my demons, I know. Thank goodness for kids that generally have plans of their own. Plans that don't allow a Mom to spend all day scrubbing on her hands and knees (think Kate GOsselin here) in futile attempts to save the world with lysol and bleach. Besides that, I betcha Erick's okay with the fact that I'm no Kate GOsselin.

I don't know much about hypochondria, but I do know that pre-school has turned me into a person that has to visit the doctor way more than I would like. I'm not anti-doctor visits, I'm just never thrilled to go. I would rather wait it out at home than brave the doctor's waiting room and fish tank laden with 2 billion germs that my child has yet to have been exposed to.

Oh, wait. That's what pre-school is for. I did a little concerned mother internet research yesterday, and found out that the first year your little dearie is in Pre-K or Kindergarden, he or she is exposed to 200 new types of cold viruses. Hence the random 99 or 100 degree fever, cough, and sleepy eyes that my daughter has experienced probably 200 times this year. Hey, maybe that means we're through with getting them, since there are no more to be gotten. Incorrect grammar, I know. But if she didn't get them, I wouldn't end up with strange, adorable pictures like these.



It takes getting sick and having NOTHING to do to get my daughter to willingly put on anything resembling a dance outfit. I think she actually put her feet into a couple of correct ballet positions in this purple ensemble. And that, my friends, is nothing short of a miracle.

We'll just save the ballet blog for another day........

I'll end this post with a picture of my handsome little man. And proof that I am not a vacuuming obsessed, crazy momma. My plan of placing this teeny weenie little doll in one of the knotholes of our unfinished wood floor yesterday (thank you, flu-ridden Spring Break) just so he would have the opportunity to spend 20 minutes digging it out has succeeded nicely.




I'll just wait until he takes his nap to vacuum it out.

Happy Thursday!