club membership

As parents, we get to belong to lots of ‘clubs.’  Most of them are great—fun places to share the joys of childrearing.  There’s the ‘I survived the terrible twos’ club and the ‘My baby just started Kindergarten’ club, the ‘Parent of an athlete’ club and the ‘Parent of a bench-warmer’ club, the ‘Parent of a scholar’ club, the ‘Parent of a scholar athlete’ club, the ‘Parent of a cheerleader’ club, the ‘Home-schooling parent’ club, the ‘Parent of LOTS of kids’ club…and about a million more that we could belong to.  (Yes, I belong to all of the above, and probably a few hundred more, at least.)  When you add the adoption dimension to parenting, the number of ‘clubs’ can grow exponentially.  For the most part, it’s a good thing.  All of those clubs are positive fun places to be.

There is at least one club that no one wants to join—the ‘Parent of a child who has died’ club.  While I do NOT belong to that club (and Lord willing won’t!) I have several friends who are members, and with Brent in the Marine Corps I have had to come to terms with the fact that some day I too may be initiated into that group.  I don’t want to join—no one does—but I know that should it happen, God will provide what I need to survive.  My friends are living proof.  There’s also the ‘My child has a serious/life threatening/fatal health issue’ club.  My sister belongs to that one.  I suspect she would call it a club no one wants to join, but many have.

Then there’s this last club, the ‘You were raised better than this’ club.  It’s not a fun place to be.  Actually, it’s very awkward.  No one wants to be there, but unlike the parents of children with serious health problems or children who have died, there’s an ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ feeling to the club.  I think in this club most parents feel like they’ve failed somewhere.  I know I spend plenty of time beating myself up over where I/we went wrong.  I also know that the child in question really was raised better than they are acting right now.  Many of the things we are seeing were NOT modeled for this child.  They were not taught to this child in our home.  As a matter of fact, some of the things we see were specifically taught as wrong.  It doesn’t seem to matter much right now.  Somehow I thought that at this point we’d be mostly finished parenting some of these guys.  Apparently not.  But this particular child is not making things easy.  So we take it one day…one step at a time.  And pray.  Man, how I pray!  I take comfort in these words

As the rain and the snow come down from heave, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth:  It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.  ~Isaiah 55:11

Some things don’t change, even when our children are acting in a manner than grants us entry to that dreaded ‘You were raised better than this’ club.  The first thing that doesn’t change?  How much that child is loved.  That’s part of what makes it so hard.  Another thing that doesn’t change?  Chocolate helps.  :)  At least temporarily.

Pass me that box of See’s…  (Actually, it’s a good thing I gave up sugar.  Otherwise, it would be tempting.  Really tempting.  Heck—who am I kidding??? It IS tempting, and it would be GONE!!)

:)

After being without a working oven since May 17, it is SO nice to be able to bake again!  I even made cookie dough this afternoon to check out the new oven’s convection feature. 

Ahhhh…the simple pleasures in life.

 

update:  The cookies scored 2 thumbs up from each of the little boys and a ‘more please’ from Jim so I guess we’re good to go.

a celebration and a question

(Totally unrelated though.)

The celebration:

This morning when Ryan got up, the FIRST thing he said was, “I DID IT!  Ice cream tonight!!”  You see, Ryan doesn’t sleep well.  He has terrible night terrors and frights.  That’s one reason he has a queen sized bed—so there’s room for Mom on the bad nights.  I spend lots of nights in there.  But not the last 5.  We’ve had a goal for weeks:  sleep all night by yourself for 5 nights and we’ll go out for ice cream.  He’d sleep 2 nights and then have trouble.  Week after week the pattern persisted, but this time he broke through!  We—Ryan, Logan, Emily, Jim, and I—went to Baskin Robbins after dinner for the ultra special ice cream treat.  The next target?  10 consecutive nights.  Progress is good.  :)

The question:

This sign hangs in my children’s bathroom. 

But they don’t even notice any more.  I can’t remember the last time someone actually finished the job and HUNG the toilet paper roll.  Any good ideas on how to reinforce that habit???

See?  I told you they weren’t related at all.  Just typical Sunday night life around here though…

I never thought I’d say (or even think!) this one…

Growing up, when we made stupid choices then said, “Well, so-and-so said to do that!” (in that irritating voice children have been known to use), my mom would look at us and ask:

“If your friends told you to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you do it?  I didn’t think so.  So why did you do THIS?”

sigh.  Mom was right.  It was the VERY first thing that came to mind today when one of the boys was squirting the freshly cleaned sliding glass door (8’ door no less—lots of clean glass!) with his squirt gun filled with sandy water from the wading pool.  I asked him why he did it (stupid question to ask a 5 year old, I know) and he said, “My brother told me to do it.”  I looked at him and just shook my head, mostly in frustration.  So desperately I wanted to ask him that famous question about the Brooklyn Bridge, but I knew he’d just look at me blankly.   Talking to Jim later today, he said that his mom used to ask the very same question.  We laughed about that.  Then I started thinking…and I don’t think I’ve ever said that to any of the big guys.  I’ll have to ask them.

The child with the squirt gun is the same child who goes places he knows are off limits, plays with things he knows aren’t his, and generally tends to be a challenge.  He’s definitely my most inquisitive.  And opinionated.  He’s also the most helpful.    A couple of days ago, I was making dinner (chicken stir fry) and cutting vegetables to get started.  He asked me what I had just washed.  When I told him it was baby bok choy, he looked at it for a minute,then looked at me and said, “No thank you.  I don’t want to eat any.  My brother says it is icky.”   Stifling a laugh, I looked at him and responded with a very straight face, “Well…you’re going to be awful hungry later because this is what’s for dinner.  And your brother has never had it before, so you don’t need to pay attention to him.”   He helped me finish cutting the vegetables, then while he was cleaning up he let me know that maybe he WOULD like baby bok choy after all, and that he would be happy to eat dinner pretty soon.   I LOVE his help, it’s the running commentary and strong opinions I could do without.  But you know what?  If you ask him now, he’ll tell you that it was a pretty good dinner!

So Mom…I apologize for all those times I told you that someone else was responsible for my stupid decisions.  And all the opinions—OY!  You put up with a lot.  All these years later, I certainly understand your frustration with us.  Thanks for giving me words when I don’t know how else to respond!  Even if I don’t say them aloud.   You taught us well.  Every so often I say something, then think “Oh my goodness.  I sound JUST like my mother!”  And that’s an okay thing. 

fu·tile  [fyoot-l, fyoo-tahyl]

–adjective

1.incapable of producing any result; ineffective; useless; not successful

Hmmm…that pretty much describes some of the chores around here.  I’ve just finished unloading the dishwasher for the 3rd time today.  Yup.  THIRD time.  Problem is that I will have to do it 2 or 3 times again tomorrow.  If not me, then someone else.  Yes, my dishwasher really runs that often.  And yes, it’s always full.

It’s also a good word to describe the laundry situation around here.  I’m glad it is finally nice weather—because the sun is shining I can hang clothes on the line.  Makes it feel much less like a lesson in futility and is infinitely more relaxing.  There’s not much I enjoy more than a few quiet minutes to hang clothes up and take them down.  I use the time to pray for each person as I fold their clothes.  Somehow, I just can’t get excited about doing that when I have to take it from the basket to fold…and the boys are playing in the background…and the dishwasher’s running…and there’s a meal to fix or bills to pay or questions to answer.  Outside, all that fades away and I can enjoy the sun on my face, the grass under my feet, and the preciousness of time spent in prayer for my family.

Guess it’s time to put up the clothesline!  Think it will jinx the sunshine?  I sure hope not!  I only have about 5 loads to wash tomorrow…

yum!

Fresh raspberries from the garden for breakfast! Does it get any better than that??

when I need a ‘real’ job

Maybe I’ll go to work as a master scheduler.  Heaven knows I have plenty of practice these days.  Try juggling this:

Monday:

• Emily needs to leave for work at 7:40 am (can drive self)
• Victoria has a behind the wheel session—leaves at 11:40am, picked up at 1pm (Mom will drive)
• Emily, Victoria, Logan, Ryan—dentist appointments, need to leave at 2:30 (Mom will drive)
• Hailey needs to leave for work at 3:10 (will drive self but will need to drop car for Emily after work and need to be picked up from there)
• Emily needs to be dropped at small group function after dentist (but needs car to return home)

Tuesday:

• Logan has speech at 9:15am, needs to leave home at 8:45.  Speech is over at 9:50, then a Costco run is a necessity.  Will stop on my way home.  I think. 
• Emily needs to leave for work at 12:30 (needs ride since Hailey works too and no one can pick her up after work)
• Hailey needs to leave for work at 2:10 (will drive girls’ car)
• Victoria has outdoor volleyball on Mercer Island; my night to drive carpool.  Leave at 5:15pm and take dinner, 2 volleyball players, 2 preschoolers, chairs, blankets, and camera.  Hopefully no winter clothing will be needed this week!
• Emily needs to be picked up from work just after 5:00pm.  Jim will pick her up on his way home from work—I will be on my way to volleyball.
• Jim has haircut at 7pm.  Fortunately, he can take care of himself.

That’s as far ahead in the week as I’ve been able to stomach looking at right now—I’ll deal with the rest of the week tomorrow.  Every week this summer looks something like this!  Fun, huh?  I’ve gotten REALLY good at juggling though.  Someday the skill just might come in handy.

grrrrr…….

WARNING:  Major vent ahead.  Being very real…and very vulnerable here.  Read at your own risk…but please don’t throw stones.

I have come to the conclusion that being a full time at home parent is a thankless, un(der)appreciated job.  No, it hasn’t taken me 21 years to reach this conclusion (I’m slow but not THAT slow).  I’ve just had the lesson hammered home in the last little bit.   Being the primary cheerleader for 7 people is a lot…

Don’t get me wrong—I LOVE staying home with my crew.  It’s just that I can’t remember the last time someone said thank you for clean clothes…or food…or a clean bed to sleep in.  Or at least without a reminder.  I am tired of perpetually moving things that get left where they don’t belong.  I don’t want more STUFF in this house—I am the one who has to clean it and dust it and take care of it.  Apparently I’m so good at what I do that the rest of them are nearly incompetent to handle things on their own.  When I took the little guys to Oceanside to see Brent, I came home to 15 phone messages and 6 days worth of unopened mail.  “We didn’t want to mess with any of it, Mom, so we left it for you.”  Well, that’s just swell, except that some of the phone messages needed to be dealt with while I was gone and any of them could have taken care of it.  Last week when I was in Pullman, I got not one but 2 phone calls letting me know that something smelled bad in the fridge.  “Well, take care of it!” was my ever-so-helpful reply.  But did they?  Nope.  Just reminded me within 10 minutes of my arrival that there was something nasty in there…and that I should find it.   Such a great welcome home for someone with a migraine and upset stomach.  Ugh.

Even my time away in Pullman really wasn’t time away.  I did have the opportunity to do something I wanted to do (take pictures) but I spent the vast majority of my time working on the calendar and coursework for next fall for the little guys (homeschool planning), sorting through math curricula, sifting science options, and finding music and art options appropriate for kindergarten.   I did some hand-holding for my college bound girl, settled squabbles over the phone, and kept everyone reminded of the schedule. 

Although I did have the opportunity to read one book, it wasn’t the refreshing, recharging time I had hoped for.  My reserves are pretty low these days.  Trying to juggle 3 people’s work schedules, speech therapy, camps, summer volleyball, and the everyday stuff of keeping the house running gets old.  Having no oven has been surprisingly draining.  We have hit the end of my 'bake-less’ dinner options, and I’m getting frustrated.  I actually cried today when I realized that brownies and ice cream for dessert wouldn’t work…I can’t bake the brownies! 

In my dreams, I have the opportunity to spend a couple of days in the sun, reading to my heart’s content and enjoying time with someone willing to be MY cheerleader for a little bit.   I guess the reality is that life doesn’t work that way right now, so I’ll quit grumbling and put on my happy face again.

I told you it was a major vent!  Now that it’s out there, I think I feel a little better.   Good thing—someone has to cook dinner around here.  :\

PS…I know my family has all sorts of great qualities.  They’re wonderful people.  They are NOT deliberately rude and selfish.  And they do love me. 

only 2 problems with that idea

I’d love to go take more pictures of the places I found yesterday, pictures with the camera set at a higher resolution.  The 2 problems?  1.  I don’t have the foggiest idea where I was yesterday! Yes, I looked at a map.  I know where I started but am not sure where I ended up. That makes it hard to find those places again.  :)  And 2.  I don’t have the manual for my camera and can’t remember how to reset the resolution to something that will allow bigger prints.

Sigh.  Oh well.  At least the sun is shining today.  I’m going to take pics on the WSU campus.  And buy some Cougar Gold cheese!  Then I think I’m ready to head home.      Maybe.

big city girl no more??

I am a big city girl.  Born in the San Francisco Bay area, my parents moved to the Seattle area before my first birthday.  City—or at least suburban—life is the only thing I’ve ever known.  Jim is a country boy, growing up on 12 acres outside a small town in Oregon.  One of the few points of contention in our marriage has been his desire to live away—FAR away—from the big city.  I’ve always hated the thought.  I’m ready to throw in the towel though… 

My mom is from a small town.  My dad grew up on a dairy farm.  My husband grew up on a filbert orchard.  Several of my good friends grew up on vineyards, orchards, or wheat farms.  I have friends now who live on farms and in little tiny towns.  The odds are definitely stacked against me, and finally the thought of small town life is winning me over. Too many people in the big city for me any more. Spending time in Pullman (population 27,000) has been fun.  Even more, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my time just driving in the countryside among the wheatfields and through the little tiny towns.  SO incredibly gorgeous!!  Even in bad (or at least less than pleasant) weather.  

I explored a pretty county park today.  Took a hike just before the rain hit.  The view was pretty and the little flowers were beautiful:

Although it’s hard to drive and take pictures, I did find some places to pull over in the rain.  It’s actually not hard when there are no other cars on the road.  :)  I love old barns so took lots of pictures of them.  They always remind me of growing up when we would go to ‘the ranch,’ the property my great grandparents homesteaded in the Lincoln Creek valley, and play in the old barn.  Even when I was lost this morning, I found lots of treasures.

And yes, I know that not all of those pictures are barns!  :)    I think, though, that of all the pictures I took, this one is my favorite. 

Gorgeous, huh?

the sorry state of education in America

Quick—a quiz.  If you know what an analog clock is, raise your hand.  Uh huh. I thought so.  Even my big guys, mostly raised in the digital age, know what an analog clock is.

Last night I was working on setting a calendar for Ryan and Logan for fall.  I’m going to homeschool them, and after I got a basic calendar set up, I spent some time reviewing several math programs.  I know basically what I need but wanted to do some fine tuning for my dynamic duo.  I pulled up 2 documents to help me assess my choices:  The Washington State K-12 Math Standards and a K-8 Math Standard document from an “independent, bipartisan, non-profit education reform organization based in Washington, D.C. that helps states raise academic standards…”  This organization, Achieve Inc, has helped 22 states coordinate their math standards so that they are nearly the same in each state.  I wanted to get an idea of “what they needed to know” to stay on target.  (Fortunately, I know that all the math programs I am thinking about blow the doors off the state and national standards so I’m not terribly concerned.)

The reason for the quiz question at the beginning?  I was disturbed to see the following on a 1st grade math standards document:

“Tell time from analog (round) clocks in half hour intervals”

Um?? What the heck?!?  ROUND clocks?  What about my square analog clock?  What about the octagonal ones?  If teachers don’t know what an analog clock is, they don’t have any business in the classroom!  Sorry…but that is beyond ridiculous!  If we have to define those terms, we are in worse shape than I realized.

Fortunately  (or unfortunately) I have only read the math standards.  From the experience, though, I have made one decision:  I will stick with what I know works.  I will do my homework and set standards for my guys.  It’s highly likely I won’t ever turn them over to the public sector for education.  And if our local Christian school starts using those standards for curriculum development and  assessment, I won’t turn my boys over to them either.  Ryan and Logan have the right to a better education than that!

Off my soapbox now…  I had a great morning.  Took a lovely drive in the rain.  Got lost, but found some incredible barns and took lots of pics.  Will post later.  Right now math curricula calls.  :\

growing up

Emily has her orientation this week at Washington State University.   A blessed mom, I get to partially participate this time!   She asked me to come with her for the drive, so I drove out to Pullman this morning.  After getting her checked in and fed, I dropped her back off for 2 days on campus.  ( I get to spend 2 days enjoying peace and quiet in a hotel!!  How wonderful is that??) She has a writing assessment today, a math placement test tomorrow morning, and several sessions about her major (architecture) and advising/class registration time.  She’ll have fun!  She was a bit nervous, and one of the things bugging her was that she would have a roommate she’s never met before.  THAT is not Emily’s kind of thing at all!  We went to her room earlier today and saw that her roommate might be a foreign student.  When I left her this afternoon, Dongbo hadn’t shown up yet.  Just before dinner Emily texted me and let me know that Dongbo was here from China! As a matter of fact, she flew in today to attend orientation and advising.  I am praying that Em has fun—she can at least share a little with her roommate since she’s been to China and has two brothers who are Chinese.  Maybe that will help break the ice for my quiet reserved girl.

On the drive over, Emily put a CD in, then promptly fell asleep.  Typical!  :)  But I enjoyed listening to it—she put in the sound track from Mamma Mia (the ABBA movie).  It’s been fun to listen and remember my own growing up years and most of the songs…  Anyway, as I have listened today, I keep coming back to one song that made both Emily and me cry this afternoon.  It’s called Slipping Through my Fingers, and the words go like this:

Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning    

Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile

I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness

And I have to sit down for a while

The feeling that I’m losing her forever

And without really entering her world

I’m glad whenever I can share her laughter

That funny little girl

Slipping through my fingers all the time

I try to capture every minute

The feeling in it

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Do I really see what’s in her mind

Each time I think I’m close to knowing

She keeps on growing

Slipping through my fingers all the time

 

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture

And save it from the funny tricks of time

Slipping through my fingers…

 

That’s my funny little girl, almost all grown up already.  The time is definitely slipping through my fingers…

tearing my hair out

The conversation this morning after I found Logan upstairs painting the bedroom furniture (fortunately, it was only with water)

Me:  Ummmm Logan?  What are you doing?  (Said without the irritation I was feeling)

Logan: (crying) Mommy…mommy mommy mommy…..

Me:  Yes Logan?  (not in the friendliest voice, but not angry.  Yet.)

Logan:  more sobs and something totally unintelligible

me:  Logan, why are you crying?  Are you crying because you made a bad choice?  (This comes after three conversations yesterday about exercising self control and making good choices)

Logan:  (Still crying)  No.  I’m crying because you caught me!  Will you please leave so I can paint more?

At that point I had to leave the room.  I was trying hard not to laugh and getting quite irritated at the same time.  Teaching him first time obedience is hard—maybe the definition of ‘futility?’  But I can’t give up, so after regaining control we had some discipline: training and correction, and a reminder of the expectation of behavior in accordance with rules of conduct of the house.  Now he’s off to play outside.  Supervised.  In the backyard.  (Mean mom!)

Next time someone sees the bus for the funny farm, please send it this way.  I would happily get on…or put him on it!  My patience is wearing thin

Emily’s graduation

Emily graduated from high school last Sunday, and today we hosted an open house. What fun to have her friends here, laughing and talking inside…outside…and everywhere!

One of Hailey’s friends had a fantastic opportunity to take pictures today at Pacific Raceway, so she’s got my camera for the evening. I got some pics of our day before she and the camera left and will post them once the camera is back home.

Life continues to be crazy busy. This week the oven died and the garbage disposal started leaking. Last week? The brakes on the Suburban, Ryan’s dress pants (hole in the knee) and my good shoes (lost a heel). So many things, both little and big, have gone on the fritz around here that I just have to laugh. I certainly hope that this coming week will be just a touch less eventful. It’s already a bit packed: volleyball camp all week for Tori; first outdoor volleyball match on Tuesday; Mom and Emily to Pullman Wednesday to Friday; homeschool curriculum convention Saturday. Not much wiggle room. Given the way the last few weeks have gone, we’re praying that nothing breaks, leaks, or otherwise falls apart!

Enjoy the sunshine! Isn’t it great to be able to be outside?? My garden is SO much happier today—far fewer weeds. And the sun brought a major bonus today: 5 fresh raspberries! Yum. Strawberries are turning pink and there are more raspberries on the way. The peaches are getting big and we’ll have a bumper crop of apples and blueberries. Now, if the sun would just stick around…

what a girl!

Helping out around the house…Hailey’s pressure washing the driveway tonight.  She’s such a great kid!!  She might wish we had a shorter driveway before she finishes, but it will sure be nice to have it clean and neat for Emily’s graduation party on Saturday.

Grandpa, you want to hire her???  :)

It seems that this is our season to have things big and small break or go on the fritz. First the brakes on the Suburban (now fixed!), then a bunch of little things over Emily's graduation weekend, and now my oven. I'm finding it's very hard to come up with dinners every night that don't require an oven...

Guess I will consider this as time to practice being content regardless of circumstances.

144 hours

That’s how long we were gone. It broke down like this:

• 53 1/2 hours with Brent
• 47 hours driving
• 36 hours with friends (15 awake, 21 sleeping over 3 nights)

And the other 7 1/2 hours? Spent at the hotel after Brent left and before we did… :(

There was lots of time spent here:

and plenty of fun…

time in the ocean and the pool……

and time with Brent (but not enough, and mostly not photographed!)

(Please note that Brent has never lost his fascination with fire and lighters. It provided literally hours of entertainment for the 3 of them!)

So what did I learn on this trip? Some interesting things, like

• I CAN drive 47 hours with two 5 year olds. And survive. They were great travel buddies! (When I got home, I told Jim I felt like I did after the Breast Cancer 3Day in 2001—like I conquered something HUGE!)
• Not all Starbucks make good strawberries and creme drinks. The Starbucks we went to in Medford (twice) was bad. Twice.
• California has a serious lack of rest areas on I-5. At least when and where they were needed this trip.
• ‘Speed Limit’ signs in California really should say ‘Speed Suggestion’ instead.  I’ve never been passed so often and so fast, even when I was going over the speed ‘limit!’
• Froot Loops are not as good dry as I remember them. (I LOVE Froot Loops. Growing up they were a treat of epic proportions, generally eaten dry out of a bowl in front of the television. Now, as an adult, they are my breakfast of choice when camping but I don’t eat them often—maybe one box a year. They were just not as satisfying from a ziploc bag as they are from a bowl with milk….)
• Women who are 60+ years old really shouldn’t wear pleather leggings with tie-dyed tops, bolero sweaters, and platform flip-flops to breakfast. Other patrons could lose their appetites.
• Some people will argue about anything, whether they know what they’re talking about or not. Case in point: we stopped every driving day for a ‘travel treat’ of strawberries and creme frappucino. I ordered a tall for me and a tall split into two cups for the boys. Made the morning more tolerable. :) Anyway, one morning we were stopped at a Starbucks. I ordered our drinks and the cashier asked me how far apart the boys were. I answered her as I always do: “Thirteen weeks.” The customer next to me immediately jumped in with, “That’s not possible. It’s just not possible. You mean 13 months.” “No,” I told her, “they’re 13 WEEKS apart.” She then went on and on about how hard that must have been, asked me if I spent the entire 13 weeks in the hospital, who was the smaller preemie, did the second one make it to full term… I finally (when she took a breath!) edged in with “Um, ma’am? They’re both Chinese!” Then she had about 150 more questions—things like “How did THAT happen? You’re not Chinese!” and “Oh…they must have different mothers.” I left there shaking my head…
• Leaving Brent at college in August 2007 has nothing over driving away from him in southern California on Sunday. I am glad Ryan and Logan were there—kept me from bawling my eyes out.
• I am incredibly proud of the young man he has become. I hope and pray that his remaining time with the Marines—however long it might be—is something he looks back on with fondness some day. He has matured tremendously in the last 6 months and I am privileged to be his mom.
• Brent’s experience with military health care has been interesting and eye opening. The waits for non-emergency tests and results is beyond ridiculous. I can hardly imagine how long he may be in ‘suspended animation’ (between trainings) should they decide that his knee is fixable and that he will not be medically discharged. It’s entirely possible that he could spend the next 3 or 4 months waiting for his knee repair! Then there’s rehab, then conditioning so that he can get back into Marine-standard fitness. It’s entirely possible that he could spend a great majority of his 4 year commitment in medical rehab. Of course, completing the paperwork necessary for a medical discharge can take up to 2 years as well…
• I have an amazing husband. While I was gone in his car, he spent all of Memorial Day weekend working on my car—changed the spark plugs, rotor, and distributor cap, the oil, all the gaskets, the transmission fluid, the transfer case fluid, flushed the radiator, and changed a bunch of other little parts as well to get ready for summer and towing season. My garage floor is greasy but my car runs well. :)
• Home is a pretty nice place. And my own bed felt pretty good last night.

Now, off to conquer Mount Laundry, visit the grocery store, and get back to the rest of my (seriously neglected) family.

Home

is a really nice place to be.  We got here at 6:30 this evening, after driving many long hours both yesterday and today.  2,771 miles in 4 days is a LOT of driving…  The boys are excited that they don’t have to get up at 4:00 tomorrow morning to get in the car again.  But it was definitely worth it—we LOVED our time with Brent.  I think there are more pictures, but right now I’m too tired to even go look.

‘Night!