Books

I love to read.

I haven't always…you know. Back when you were forced to read for a grade. Yeah, that's no fun. But sometime after I had kids, I discovered that reading was a great release for me.

I have read over 172 books in the last 3 years.

Yeah, I've gotten over the hating.

I thought I would share some of my favorites here.
(If you are still in the hating stage, you can just skip this entry. I will never know.)

And please promise me you will never read any of these books below….Please!

There you go. I may add more books as I read them.

Reading makes me happy and I thought I would share my happy with you all here.

Happy reading.

Crush-ed

His name was Shiloh

Shiloh Hatcher.

(I had to include the last name as the name Shiloh, in my house, conjures up images of a cute beagle puppy. I did not have a crush on a puppy.)

He lived in the a barn house. Not a BARN. But rather a  house that looked like a barn. A big brown barn-like house. For some reason I also remember that he had a really big pinwheel like see-saw that allowed up to 6 kids on at one time. (That's weird that I remember that...) 

He was a sun-kissed (evident by the thousands of freckles), blonde haired, boot wearing beauty. No-one knew I liked him...heck, I was in 2nd grade.  I probably didn't even know that.

But I did. I did like him.

Until I didn't... .  

Well, he liked me too. How do I know this?

Because he would chase me at recess. "Ah, well, that doesn't prove he liked you," you may say. "What 8 year old boy doesn't chase a girl now and again?"

It wasn't the chasing that proved he liked me. That was normal for a cute, spunky, little girl, like I was, to be chased by boys at recess.

 It was what he did when he caught me.

I remember the day he caught me, because he did only catch me once. I remember I was wearing my pink velvety shirt (Odd that I remember that fact as well....although it was my favorite shirt so the chances that I was wearing it are very high!)  He chased me until finally he caught me.

Then he did the thing that made me un-like him.

He leaned in and he kissed me right on the cheek.

It was at that moment I knew that I did not like him anymore. Maybe because I was embarrassed. Maybe it was because I liked it and I didn't know, at that early age, what to do with a kiss from the boy I liked. Maybe it was because he had caught me and I was afraid the fun was gone.

Most likely I didn't want to be tied down to one man at the age of 8 years, no matter how cute he was. I was a deep thinker back then.

So my first crush was killed by a kiss.  

Post Script:
I dodged a bullet on that one because he later became a troublemaker....probably never recovered from the crushing blow I inflicted on him at such an early age.

Sorry, Shiloh.

I'm thinking I might like breakfast a little more these days.

Sometimes kids just make me crazy. Not other people's kids....okay, that's not entirely true. But in general, I like people of all ages.

I'm more talking about my own children.

We are simultaneously (look at that big word) raising 2 teenagers, a tween, a pre-tweens and a 1st grader. I love them dearly. But there are moments when liking them....just simply isn't an option.

I'm a horrible person, I know. But at least I am an honest one.

But then, there are days when they save themselves and all is well in the universe. This was one of those times.

I have been having to leave early in the mornings in order to get to work. Most the time I am out the door before my elementary kids are up.

My little Camden has been having a tough time at school and my not being there in the morning has been hard on him.

The other day he said to me, "Mom. I wish you were here in the morning, You are like Breakfast, the most important part of the day!"

 Wait...did you just hear that??

I think it was my heart exploding!

Linking up with Ms. Matlock's Warm Heart Wednesday. Check it out!

Naked Revenge

I grew up in a family with seven girls.

We grew up in a house that technically had 2 bathrooms, but one of them was a DO-NOT-USE status because it was used by the boys in our house. EEEEEEW! No-one wanted to use that bathroom. Come to think about it, I don't even think my mom ever really used that bathroom either.

That is a lot of girls using one bathroom.

Needless to say, privacy wasn't always a luxury we had. Rarely could you just kick back and relax in the toil-y. If you tried to lock yourself in there, forget it. Everyone knew how to pick the lock., The only way to get people to stay out was if you were passing solid waste or  it was "your time of the month." If neither of these applied, you were out of luck.

Showering had its own rules. If you were taking a shower, everyone had to leave while you took off your clothes and hopped into the shower. After that, the okay was given and they could come back in. The same was true for the few minutes after the shower...long enough to get your undies on.

To others, this may seem cruel and unusual because the right to privacy is, after all, a God given right. Unless God gave you 6 sisters...then you can forget about privacy.

As you can imagine, standing in a shower, completely clothes-less, with only a plastic shower curtain hiding you from the bathroom traffic can make a person completely vulnerable. So who better than to exploit that than one's sisters.

This is how it worked.

While one sister was getting into the shower, the other sister would run to the kitchen and grab an icy-cold cup of water. When the signal was given that it was safe to enter the bathroom, the cold-water-holding sister would wait for about a minute and then proceeded to dump the icy-cold water onto the showering sister.

Have you ever experienced shock like that before? It is enough to make one pee one's pants....not literally as they are without pants....but figuratively.

The worst part was that there really was nothing you could do because you were..well...naked. You couldn't jump out of the shower and hit them, chase them, hug them because you were, again, naked. All you could do was yell. But you couldn't yell too loud or make too extreme of a threat because 1) you were still naked in the shower and 2) they still held the cup that could easily be refilled with cold water.

All you could do was plan your revenge.

So, I Married a Deaf Man: Wrong Translation!!

Most days being married to someone who doesn't speak English is not a problem. In fact, I don't usually notice. 

However, this is not always true. Case in point:

A few nights ago, our son Camden, was standing close to the fireplace and leaned into the metal covering. It was hot. As he has skin that covers his arm (weirdo), it was burned.

It wasn't a "rush-him-to-the-ER" type burn, but it had blistered and popped immediately , taking off a layer of skin. It hurt him pretty bad and was red and swollen, but it was something that we could deal with at home.

Well, as I looked through our medicine cabinet, I saw that we were missing some of the things that we needed to care for the burn.

So Hubs willingly went to store to buy the list of things I texted him:

Ointment and Dressing.

I stayed to finish watching the movie to take care of the burned, crying child.

About 20 minutes later, Hubs returned with the needed items....or so I thought.

When I asked for dressing I meant this:

When he heard dressing, he thought I meant this:

Yes....

He....

Did....

It's what I'm good at….

Some people are skilled at making the Turkey. Others make to-die-for-yams. (I wouldn't know because I never eat those things.) Still others are known for their melt-in-your-mouth rolls.

Me?

I am really good at making Jell-O.

Yup! It's my one true talent. I am special like that. But my Jello isn't your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, boil-dissolve-refrigerate Jell-O.

I make Rainbow Jell-0. Like this-is-the-pot-of-gold-at-the-end-of-the-rainbow Rainbow Jell-O.

I because I am a giver, I would like to share my recipe with you!

You're welcome!!

Rainbow Jell-O

INGREDIENTS

Small boxes of Jello, in rainbow colors (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, or whatever colors you want)
Cool whip 
sour cream
water

DIRECTIONS:
 1.Put the prepared pan in the refrigerator to chill. 

2. Add one packet of Jello to 1 cup of boiling water. Dissolve completely. Pour 1/4 cup of the Jello into a bowl and add 1tbs sour cream and 2 tbs cool whip. Whisk together until it has melted the cool whip. Pour into the chilled pan, spread evenly and put back into the fridge for 15 minutes. 

3. After 15 minutes, pour the remaining jello into the pan, spread evenly, and place back in the fridge. 

4. Repeat steps 2 and 3 for all colors of jello. (The set up time will decrease with each layer.) 

5. Top with whipped cream and enjoy!

Seared might not be strong enough of a word...

People say that there are moments in each person's life that are so emotional that, when one looks back, they can remember where they were and what they were wearing.

A few of those memories for me are:

The day Challenger exploded.

Sept. 11, 2001

The day my Grandpa died.

Thursday November 5, 2015 will forever go down as a day I will never forget; neither what happened nor what I was wearing.

What happened on Nov 5, 2015?

It started out as a normal school day. My older kids had just gotten off to school. My younger kids were piddling around getting ready, as was I.

I went into my room, shut the door and laid my clothes for the day on my bed. **

** Side note: Does anyone else think it's weird that my master bedroom door doesn't have a lock?? I mean, if ever there was a room that needed a lock.... Right? Apparently not. **

So with my clothes on the bed, I proceeded into the master bath- which, thankfully, does have a lock- and took a shower. I stepped out, dried off, put my hair in the towel and went to put on my clothes.

I opened the bathroom door and looked up at my bed, which directly faces the bathroom.

To my horror, there sat my innocent 11 year old son…

1-2-3… Eyes on ME!!!

Yup. That day will be forever seared into my memory…down to the clothes that I was NOT wearing!!

He may need counseling.

I need to get that lock!!