My Elevator Experience part 1

I don't have a fear of elevators. How could I, when they are the very thing that get me up to a second, third floor and beyond? But you know when you get that bad feeling--you know the one: when you are about to do something that may not turn out right?

Our neighborhood library had a Christmas puppet show we attended. And it wouldn't be a trip to the library if the boys couldn't play on the computers. (Yes, we do go for books, too). Mind you, the childrens section (with computers) is about 6 steps down to a lower level. Now, it used to be that there was no elevator to get down there. Imagine much younger children and trying to coax them back upstairs to go home. Ha.

Needless to say, we boycotted that library until they got an elevator. So enter, the elevator, or maybe that's too glamourous. We'll call it a wheelchair lift. I push the button to open the door, roll on in, the door shuts behind me, and I push the button to go downstairs. Remember the bad feeling I had before? Yep, it's the one that says this lift might stop half way down. And stop it did. Thank God my children are older, and they were happily preoccupied with the computers.

How embarrassing is it to have to yell for someone--yell--in a library? But yell I did. I shouted for my oldest son to go get a librarian...story to be continued.

More quirky sayings from the chillins

son #2: "Why do our real clothes have to match, but not our pajamas?"

Note to self--try to wash correct tops with the matching pants, at the same time.

son #1 to son #2: "Let's sleep out in the living room. But don't worry, you won't be scared. The tree lights will be on all night."

Note--yes, we are wasteful and leave our tree lights on all night. I love Christmas, OK?

There's A Puddle in the Kitchen

That's right, if you haven't guessed, our [7 year old] fridge crapped out. Praise report #1) I already had plans for supper that didn't include fridge food. 2) It's winter--the necessities are outside! 3) Things just kept coming up, so I didn't get to the store for our big grocery trip.

We took a trip to good 'ole Jim's Appliances, a southside shop that fixes stuff and resells it. We bought our flat top stove/oven there about 2 years ago. $125=Love it. Just to have Jim come out it would be $55, not including parts etc. So off to Craigslist. Lots of options there. Then the answer: the in-laws! When my in-laws moved into a different house, they did not want the fridge that was there. It's just been sitting in the basement used for pop and such. Yahoo! We pick it up tomorrow.

Today's List

A dreary day, but a long to do list.

Walmart--I know, I usually, at all costs avoid this place, but today it is necessary.
Hoover state tax office--anyone who will help me with our 2004 IA tax fiasco
DS2 art class
Another trip to the grocery store--forgot my organic oranges
Review verses with the boys for tonight
Possibly eat at McD--why do they make it so cheap on Wed?
Possibly trip to Science Center with local hs group

Writer's Angst

I've always loved writing. Ok, so my blog doesn't show it...I mean actual handwriting. Growing up, poems and stories were my life. My 7 year old son? Not so much. As evidenced in a recent Cub Scout meeting, all the boys were done writing Fire Department and ds was still at FIR. I wish I had been more patient with him. At the same time, it was certainly an eye opener. So we got to the task of writing this week. Much tears, much tears.

Our dialogue:
Me: What can I get or do for you to help you like writing?
Him: Get me something that I can take a break every 10 minutes.
Me: That's no problem, we can do that.
Him: (contemplating) Yeah, sign me up for that one. The one with the breaks.

Love that kid.

So sorry, Mama P, for not calling you back. We were deep in the writing turmoil, so park day was not an option!

Note to self: All males that live under my roof do not like acorn squash. However, they will eat red bell peppers and not green. That is encouraging.

Teeth and lice

I almost forgot to record this event--the first eye tooth has been lost! (Is that called an inciser)? Now I can't even remember the day, but I know it was this month. Boy #1 was working on it at the bathroom sink, and whoops, down it went! So that was a bummer, and he was afraid that he wouldn't get any money. Lo and behold, even the tooth angel (as we call it) forgot the money. My clever husband remedied this situation. He was home briefly in the morning, and asked if Boy 1 had been to the bathroom. He said yes. DH then asked, then how could you miss this? Boy 1 came running, to find the money in the sink--where he'd lost the tooth in the first place. Very clever, I say.

On another note, head lice has been in the house. The neighbor girl has lice and told us (after we took her to church). It is confirmed that I have it--I hugged her just recently. I'm taking the boys to the clinic tomorrow. Oh, and vinegar does not work. This has been the day from hell.

The Thrifting Faith

I exersize a lot of my faith by shopping at thrift stores. Sound weird? I'll explain. Whenever we need something non food related, I hit our local thrift stores. Just 3 weeks into soccer season, oldest boy tells me that his cleats are too small. Great. It's very hard to find cleats under $20. So I go to the wonderful Goodwill store, and low and behold there is a like new pair of Nike cleats. Amazing--we praised God right there in the store. It might seem small, but there is such satisfaction in ringing up a $2.50 pair of cleats. One, we are reminded that God takes care of all of our needs. Two, I feel so anti-consumeristic (is that a word?) At least I know a good middleman is getting a cut, and that it's not coming directly from the sweatshops.

On another note, I have some wise sayings from my oldest:
(While in said thrift store)
Me: Could you reach me that shirt off the rack?
Him: (Sighing, but compliant)
Me: (Looking at shirt)
Him: Mom, it's too short for you.
Me: How do you know?
Him: I'm just a sensitive boy.

I laugh and agree...we did not buy the shirt.

Another unrelated conversation with the oldest, today.
(He comes in from skateboarding with a scraped ankle)
Him: It hurts! I wish they made ankle pads.
Me: They do.
Him: They do?
Me: They're called socks.
Him: Nooo. Wait, oh. (Goes into room for a pair of socks).