The House That Jack Built

No real reason to blog..

2009-05-20T11:34:00.000-07:00

So - no real reason to blog. Just thought I'd put up some pics of the kids. Enjoy!
Chicken Nugget in kindergarten. Just 2 weeks to go!

Pumpkin Pie hiking with Daddy - and a "do rag"

Huckleberry and Chris Zug from Penn State @ the Blue & White Scrimmage.

The kids going to a friends Star Wars themed birthday party. Princess Lea looks mad - cute, but still mad. I think Padme' may have hit her.

Heading Back to School...

2009-02-08T19:53:00.000-08:00

Well - it's been a long week. But I've got to tell you - my Chicken Nugget is quite a trooper. Even in her worst pain, she was always so sweet. And if you know her, that probably doesn't come as much of a surprise. We told her all week how proud we are of her - how she handled her pain with such grace. I told Stretch, that she's got quite a tolerance for pain - she does NOT get that from her momma. She'll be the mom who says in the delivery room, "drugs? nah."

It was a longer week than I think we all expected. She peaked on Wednesday - was feeling really good. Then crashed on Thursday and has been on the upswing since. Thank you for all of your prayers.

Chicken Nugget heads back to school tomorrow - and she is more than excited! I heard her say to one of her girlfriends on the phone, "being at home is sooooo boring". I hear ya honey!

Surgery Update...

2009-01-30T10:12:00.000-08:00

Chicken Nugget is home and doing well. She was VERY upset when she woke up and it took over an hour to calm her down. She kept saying, "I didn't want to have my tonsils out!" "I didn't want to have my tonsils out!".

The surgery went very well. She walked herself into the operating room, holding on to her stuffed animal, Snuggles. It broke my heart - but we both held it together. She was so brave. In twenty minutes, the doctor was in the waiting room talking to us. She did great - he said she'll be breathing so much better. Hallelujah.

Apparantly, the pain gets worse for the next day or so. Sunday is "supposed" to be her worst day. So we are just praying that it doesn't get worse. I appreciate your prayers and she continues to heal.

I'll update you again later!

A Big Day for Chicken Nugget

2009-01-30T06:22:00.000-08:00

Well, today is a big day in the life of Chicken Nugget. She is having her tonsils and adenoids out today. It's been a long time coming, and we're glad that it's finally here. We are to arrive at the surgery center at 10:30, and I imagine she'll be in surgery around 11:30/noon. If you would please pray for her today. She is hungry (no food since last night) and feeling a bit nervous. We trust that God is going to see her through this surgery beautifully. Thank you for standing with us. I'll post again tonight.

What's New at the Jack House?

2008-09-18T11:25:00.001-07:00

I would hope to tell you that the reason I'm too busy to blog is because I'm doing something FABULOUS! But no - this is how I'm spending my Monday - Friday... driving. Huckleberry to school, come back. Chicken Nugget to school at noon, come back. Drag Pumpkin Pie out of bed from her nap at 3:00 to pick up the kids from school, come back. Forget it if I have somewhere else to go - like an errand. My car is my new home. And it's not nearly as nice as my real house.

Really - there is very little time for anything else. But here are some random pics to get you by...

It's About Time!

2008-07-15T12:30:00.000-07:00

No, you're not dreaming. It is not the end of the world. Pigs are not flying. I just decided that I should put something else up on this blog since it's been since April.

The summer is definitely in full swing here. We've been very busy here at the House That Jack Built. First, every summer it takes our family a few weeks to adjust to ALL BEING HOME. Stretch is a teacher and is home all summer. The first week of summer vacation is like the honeymoon phase - we're all just thrilled to be home and have nothing to do. We sleep in, have no schedule, play outside all day, stay up late, etc.

The second week, I inform my husband that we must have a schedule - because "I can't do this all summer long". So he appeases me. We get a plan, and start following it. I am in "summer schedule heaven" - breakfast, schoolwork, chores, an outing, lunch, naptime, freetime, dinner, bed. I just love a schedule.

And for about two weeks - we are really good at it.

Then Stretch starts to veer from the schedule, slipping out during school and chores - I head to look for him, after he's been M.I.A. for a while. I know where to look for him - somewhere in the yard. Yep, there he is - and he's done it again... he's started a project.

My husband LOVES summer projects. And most women wouldn't mind a husband who is constantly working to better the house & yard. Except that - we never discuss a project. I just find him in full swing breaking concrete, cutting a larger bed for the shrubs he decided to transplant. Next thing you know we are both at Home Depot and he's buying 30 bags of concrete for a new walkway & a giant concrete mixer in my driveway.

Unfortunately the project takes "longer than expected". So, he has to stop half way through the project, because his Thesis is not done and has to be completed by August. Then have my cousin and her family visit with us from Texas for four days. They leave on a Monday, and we head for the Auto Train to Florida the very next day to spend a week in DisneyWorld (which I'll save for another post). Phew... Are you tired yet?

Now we're back - the schedule I came to love has been demolished, and I don't know if I have the energy to bring it back to life. Everyone else seems just fine to piddle the day away... maybe I should be too. I know it will all get done... but the relaxing summer I always hope for, never quite happens that way.

I'm going to take a nap. I should probably blog more than once a quarter - because all this catching up is exhausting.

Proud Mama...

2008-04-17T08:12:00.000-07:00

I'm a proud mama. Chicken Nugget decided that she would like to play t-ball this year. It's so nice to see her wanting to do other things (aka sports) instead of just playing mommy, dress up and make up. I want her to be a "well rounded" little girl. And I'm quite surprised - but she really likes it!

Her first game was on Saturday. She was amazing. She hit the ball, she ran the bases - she even fielded alot of balls and threw them to first base. At the end of the game, her coach called her over and presented her with the coveted "Game Ball". He is such a gentlemen about it. He got down on one knee and said such encouraging words to her. The game ball reads:

"Chicken Nugget" (ok obviously it would be her real name, not her blog name)

Tigers vs. Rockies

Saturday, April 12, 2008

Game Ball

"for being the best overall player"

I gotta say - I was really proud of her. I think a part of it, for me, was the fact that I was "the girl" in our family. I wasn't given an option to play sports - my brothers did that. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm sure if I had said to my parents "I want to play baseball" I would have been allowed. I just don't think I even knew it was an option. And as I got older, I wished that I had played a team sport. It's seems like such a fun experience. I digress.

She's good at it. And she was proud of herself. In fact, she slept with the game ball that night and showed anyone and everyone. Good job Chicken Nugget - you rock girl!

I've Missed You!!!

2008-04-14T08:30:00.000-07:00

I can hardly believe it's been more than two months since my last post. Several of you harassed me at the last Moms in Action meeting, which by the way was SO MUCH FUN (I'll post on that maybe tomorrow, or next month) - I know you are all sick of seeing "A Simple Hello Would Be Fine". So I thought I would indulge you and post something new.

(By the way - if you are still clicking on everyones blog to see if they've posted a new one, you've got to get a bloglines account. Really ladies, you gotta get on board. You'll spend alot less time surfing around).

So, today I thought I would update you on the progress of my psoriasis. If you have no idea what I am talking about, start here. For those of you who now know way more about psoriasis than you EVER wanted to know, I'm doing well.

I am still going to the lightbox three days a week. Which I've gotta say is a real pain. And there are days that I get busy and forget. But I don't ever forget twice. It's amazing at how well the UVB light reduces the scaling and redness - but once I forgot two times - and it was really unbelievable how fast it went back to feeling and looking horrible!!!

I still have it on each area of my body, but many of the really small ones are gone. Where I once had maybe 500, I probably have about 300 now. And my face has really improved. Praise the Lord! Here's my updated photo:

Thank you so much for your kind words to me over the last few months. I love when a friend comes up to me and says, "wow your skin looks so much better". Even though I know I'm not one hundred percent, your kind words make me feel beautiful.

I'm off to the lightbox now - the lady at the lightbox who has issues with social graces still keeps to herself, but I always wait for her to answer my "Hi, how are you?" before I'll answer her about whether or not I've had any burning. Thanks for all your advice!!!

Up Next... How to Make Turtlenecks Fashionable for Summer

A Simple Hello Would Be Fine...

2008-02-01T09:22:00.001-08:00

I'm a social person. I talk to everyone. I say hello with eyecontact to people I pass on the street. I wave a thankyou to a fellow driver who has been gracious to let me in. I small talk while standing in line at the grocery store. I enjoy it. I like being friendly to complete strangers. I also like that I see the same three ladies at the dermatologist on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Lorraine, Shannon and the lady who never says hi.

Lorraine is so kind and patient. She sits with the girls outside the room in the cramped hallway of the office. She knows their names, knows that they love lollipops and aren't allowed to ask for them - so she always offers, even when it's nine in the morning.

Shannon is a lovely lady in her thirties. She has kids the same ages as mine, so she's easily approachable and has fun conversations with the girls about what they are going to do for the day, and what they brought in their little pocketbooks.

Then there is "the other lady". I call her this, because I haven't bothered to know her name. Not because I don't want to know her name, but because she has NO interest in anything but getting me in and getting me out of the lightbox.

The receptionist (who also knows my name before I say it each day), calls to the back and announces that I'm waiting for the lightbox and then they send me back. So they know I'm coming. It's a 10 second walk. As I round the corner ready to give the three ladies a "goodmorning" - she cuts me off and says "any burning?" That's it, never a hello. "Any burning" is really all she ever says to me. So, I've never had a chance to know her name. She never faces me, never looks at me. Not interested. Maybe I should go waaayyy out of my way to get to know her. You know, kill her with kindness.

So many people are rude and self absorbed, rushing through their day demanding attention, demanding things from others. I think how easy it to say the simple things. You know the "hello", "excuse me", "please", "thank you". It's not hard - but I think it makes the world of difference to those around us. Let's go out of our way to show them the love of Jesus with our hellos, our pleases, and our thank yous.

Hi My Name is *** and I have Psoriasis...

2008-01-28T08:10:00.001-08:00

So, I went to my very first Psoriasis Support Group. I feel like a dork just saying it really. But I knew I had to go. No, God didn't "tell me" to go, but I definitely felt like I'm gonna face this thing dead on and here's just another way to do it. So I went.

It was a very small group. Just five of us. Apparently there are upwards to twelve members. They served Panera for lunch (that'll keep me coming back for sure) and I sat down. No one asked me about my psoriasis. We sat and the ladies at the table were talking about insulation in a basement. Really, insulation. I thought, "I'll be patient, I'm sure they'll strike up a psoriasis conversation soon." Nope. Just insulation. After about 15 minutes of pretending I was interested, I finally spoke up. I turned to the lady next to me and said, "so tell me your story, how long have you had psoriasis." And the conversation began.

It was interesting to hear each person's short story - when they first had an outbreak and where they are now with it. Two of the ladies have psoriatic arthritis as well a psoriasis. The youngest of us (probably young twenties) is in remission but continues to come because, as she says, "I know it will be back".

Then we met a wonderful dermatologist from Hershey Medical Center. He looked far too young and good looking to be a real doctor, but after hearing him speak about T-cells and biologic treatments I was convinced he was legit.

Here's a few things I came away learning from that afternoon:

1 - Insulation has a front and a back, with a moisture barrier on one side - so when putting it in your basement, the moisture barrier should be pointing north.

2 - I use the typical treatments that any dermatologist would suggest. I'm totally normal in the scheme of psoriasis. Not normal in the rest of my life of course, but just the psoriasis.

3 - The next course of treatment for me would be to go on a systemic medication if the UVB therapy isn't effective. Systemic medications are in pill form and work to bind and inhibit the the enzyme involved in the overproduction of skin cells.

4 - Three of the five ladies at the table use biologics - a weekly self-injectible treatment that binds up the T Cells that are wreaking havoc on our skin. This would be the last course of treatment when all others didn't work, or if you are presenting signs of psoriatic arthritis.

5 - The biologic treatments have been around for 10 years - so no one knows the long term implications.

6 - The dermatologist is not married, likes the theatre, and we're trying to hook him with the young girl at our table up.

So there you have it. My recap.

Let's Help Fight Heart Disease...

2008-01-26T18:00:00.000-08:00

Check out this site and vote for your favorite Campbell's Soup dress. For every vote until January 30th, Campbell's is donating $1 towards the American Heart Association. So GO RED and vote today! And tomorrow!

Up tomorrow, I'll be recapping my first meeting with the area psoriasis support group. See you then!

Kids Say the Darndest Things...

2008-01-25T11:33:00.000-08:00

I just came back from spending two hours in Huckleberry's first grade class. After helping 18 - seven year olds with guided reading and then having lunch with them, I'm pooped. Seven year olds are an "interesting" breed - they are quirky, have alot of pent up energy and are rarely funny to anyone but another seven year old.

While I was standing in line with my son in the classroom (waiting for several slackers to get it together and get their lunchboxes) his friends started up a conversation about my face. They were all very nice, but were inquisitive about what it was. So I, as quickly and as to the point as I could explained psoriasis. I realized as I was getting ready to say, "your skin cells die off every 28 days" I could already hear the "ewww gross" comments, so I replaced "dead" with "shed" and it seemed to thankfully go a tad bit over their head. Then I explained "my skin just does it super fast". Huckleberry proceeded to tell the kids - "don't worry, it's not contagious". I tell them that I have a great doctor (gross overstatement) that is helping me. That reminds a seven year old little girl to tell me that she too has a doctor at the emergency room because she has "ammonia" - as I correct her with little success, a little boy asks if I have medicine. I tell him yes, I go to the doctor three times a week, and he gives me medicine. And he replies, "oh, is it Proactive? I see that on TV." And with that I give a little chuckle and a "no sweetie, not exactly" and we are whisked away to lunch.

Kids say the darndest things.

As a side note - I think that all lunch ladies and lunch aides are grossly overpaid and age far quicker than most people. They are all saints in my book. One visit to the lunchroom a year is enough for me!

A Note of Thanks...

2008-01-24T08:04:00.000-08:00

I just want all you ladies to know how grateful I am for each and every one of you. Your words of encouragement have been so amazing, so comforting - like a hug from an old friend.

God was clear with me, that if I was to start blogging about my struggles, that it was to get out all my pent up feeling and to educate - not for approval, not for sympathy. And so (this time) I actually listened to Him. And went into this with pure motives. It's been so good to "talk" it all out. I've been holding it in for so long.

But then you all come in - and just knock my socks off with love, support and encouragement. Each of you are treasures in my life!

Have a blessed day - I'm off to the Lightbox! Maybe I'll get a killer tan from all this UVB!

What's a Lightbox???

2008-01-23T06:18:00.000-08:00

I make an appointment IMMEDIATELY with my dermatologist. Which meant I had to wait 6 weeks to get in!!! In the meantime, my spots were growing... and I was growing more an more uncomfortable as I waited.

Three weeks ago I went to the dermatologist. Normally when I go for a routine six month check up for my psoriasis, I sit in the chair (not even on the examining table) and show him the spot on my arm and he checks my scalp. Very uneventful.

This time, since it's EVERYWHERE, I had to undress and wear a paper cloth. So, I'm sitting on the exam table, wrapper in a big piece of paper. My doctor comes in, looks at me and says, "so, how are you feeling". In my brain I say, "look at me, how do you THINK I'm feeling". But instead I chuckle and then proceed to say, "i've been better". Then he says, "we'll start you on the lightbox right away, I've seen improvement with this type of psoriasis in the past". The nurse will get you started. And he's gone.

I proceed to start sobbing in the exam room. I'm not sure why, really. Maybe because I can't believe it's gotten this bad again. Maybe it's because my doctor showed not a stitch of compassion, and that day I could have really used some. Maybe it's because going to the dermatologist was admitting it was really back and I was not in control. Who knows why, but I cried. I got dressed, composed myself and spoke with the nurse.

She walked me downstairs to the other offices, and explains that three times a week, I'll have to come to the lightbox. The lightbox is a large booth with UVB lightbulbs that run the length of the booth. The lightbulbs are on all four sides of the booth. I am exposed to strong amounts of UVB light for about two minutes. Here's the theory behind phototherapy: "exposing affected skin cells to UV light through short, frequent sessions of exposure causes the skin cells to die, eliminating or improving symptoms, providing relief from psoriasis. Although it isn't a cure, it can significantly help."

I stepped into the lightbox for my first treatment that day. And as the lights came on, I just began weeping. I felt like my condition was finally being addressed, and I was so grateful that I was getting help. Then I began reciting the 23rd Psalm to try and calm myself. And what I love about Scripture so much - is that it works. It can calm you in times of distress, give you hope in times of despair, give you wisdom in times of uncertainty. I love the 23rd Psalm. So every Monday, Wednesday and Friday during my "lightbox" treatment, I recite this Scripture. And it blesses me.

I will be tracking with pictures my progress as the phototherapy continues. After three weeks, I'm starting to see that there isn't as much scaling on my face. I'll keep you posted as time goes on. In the meantime, here's a peek at what the phototherapy lightbox. My kids think it's "so awesome".

It's Baaaccckkkk...

2008-01-22T10:05:00.000-08:00

In late October, I came down with a nasty sore throat. Thinking for sure it was strep, I made my husband investigate my throat with a flashlight. "All I see is red" he says, "No Spots". I wasn't convinced - my throat hurt so bad. But I had him check three times - so I let it go. I didn't make an appointment with the doctor. I just rode it out.

Two weeks later, I woke to tiny red dots covering a large portion of my face and body. I did some internet investigating to find this interesting fact:

According to the National Psoriasis Foundation website "80% of all Guttate Psoriasis flare ups occur two to three weeks after a streptococcal infection". That confirmed it for me - it was back.

What will people think? What will my children think? What will my husband think? I realize I care way to much about what others think. I don't like that people are making assumptions about my condition. And I know, as a mother, other mothers are thinking, "is it contagious, does her kid have it?" In fact, I don't even have to wonder if they are thinking it - some people are saying it, asking me point blank, with no consideration of my feelings "what is going on with your face?" "are you contagious" "is that some sort of rash?" I answer politely, wondering if their parents ever taught them an ounce of manners.

Revisiting this disease has brought up so much pain, hurt and rejection from when I was a child. As a kid, my family fought my battles for me - answering people's questions and concerns. I'm so grateful, because now as an adult with this disease, the questions are being asked directly to me. I notice the staring, the doubletakes, and I'm not sure how to handle it.

Then I realize my kids are watching me through this trial. What unspoken things am I saying to them, when I won't leave the house without makeup, when I'm covering my body with turtlenecks and hats. Am I saying that I'm not beautiful, that God has made a mistake? Am I ashamed? Will my girls think every flaw they have has to be covered? That you can't be beautiful and have a blemish? Will my son be embarassed by me at the pool - will I even be confident enough to go to the pool?

Chicken Nugget said one night as I was getting ready for a party, "Are you REALLY going to go to the party Mom?" I answered, "of course honey, why would you ask?" Her reply, "everyone is going to see your spots". Such innocence, yet little did she know, she hit me dead center into the core of my fear. I was really nervous to go to that party that night, but I decided I should go, and hoped that the lights would be turned down low so no one would notice.

Then one Sunday I told Huckleberry that I was going to sit in on his church service at the new church to see what it's like, and he said, "Are you sure you want to do that Mom, kids can be so mean. What if they laugh at your spots". I reassure him that I'm tough and I can take it. And inside, I'm not feeling so sure.

Maybe you think it's weird that I post pictures. And I apologize, if you feel like I've gone over the top, but I'm facing my fears. My fears of what everyone will think. The assumptions people will make if they aren't educated in this disease. Writing this blog everyday is helping me tremendously let go of the fears I face on a daily basis.

Next Up: Course of Treatment - "The Lightbox"

How Long Can This Last???

2008-01-21T08:00:00.000-08:00

We moved from California to New Jersey in August, just a few weeks before the start of fourth grade. We had travelled across country in a Econoline Van, the same one that just nine short months ago, had driven us from North Carolina to California. I remember my parents debating whether or not my mom and I should fly to NJ instead - because of my condition. But we all drove... sightseeing along the way.

My most memorable moment from that trip is when my dad, who was driving at the time, was drumming on the steering wheel and console to the song "We're Coming to America" by Neil Diamond. It was one of our favorite songs. My dad was getting a little carried away with his "drum solo" when he banged on the cooler that was sitting on the floor between his seat and my moms. He banged hard on that cooler ... not realizing my mom had just put her needlepoint down. It was a strange scene - while still driving, he reached his hand over to my mother in the passenger seat, needle sticking out of of his palm and said very calmly, "Maryke, take it out". She took it out, and he kept driving. The rest of the ride was quiet.

We arrived in New Jersey - all of us unhappy to be moving, AGAIN. But over the next few weeks and months, something really wonderful happened. My psoriasis began to improve. It made no sense really - the sun and salt water were supposed to be really good in healing my sores and we just left California, where both were available daily!

Within, I would say five years of my outbreak, I had just a few spots left on my body and some on my scalp. And by the time I was in middle school, Psoriasis was just a nuisance for me. Worsening in the winter months, still barely noticeable. An occasional spot would flare up, but I could cover it.

It no longer consumed my thoughts. I was no longer riddled with intense itching and pain. I was no longer a sight for others to stare at. It wasn't hard to live with... just a few spots. And that's how it remained for the next 18 years. Until this November.

More tomorrow...

Unconditional Love...

2008-01-19T08:00:00.000-08:00

Brothers can be mean. Especially older brothers. And I have two. Poor girl.

Ethan and I are just three years apart. He would taunt me, tease me, pull the heads off of my Barbies (which didn't go back on, by the way). But when I became sick I saw a side of him I hadn't seen before. A compassion. An unconditional love. He was there for me.

Ethan was in the sixth grade and he and I went to the same school. We walked together to and from school. Ethan was my gatekeeper. The older kids at our school could be especially hurtful, not just to me, but saying nasty things to him. I remember him sticking up for me on one particular occasion when the boy who was taunting me was calling me "polka dot girl". Now, thinking back to it - I wish I could have said, "is that the only nickname you can come up with??? Polka Dot Girl??? Is that the best you've got, really". But at the time, it didn't matter how stupid the insult was, it still hurt.

Ethan didn't blink. He just went after the guy. It was like a knee-jerk reaction. I never heard from that boy again. Ethan was my protector, from that day on. And I felt so safe walking home with him.

And although he still pulled the heads off my Barbie's, I knew he loved me. I really knew.

Back to School...

2008-01-18T09:36:00.000-08:00

I don't remember the first day back to school.

I just have a few memories of being in the third grade. One is kind of gross so if you are at all faint of stomach (On Fire for Jesus), you should skip this short, but yucky paragraph. The itch of psoriasis is really intense, and when you are covered in it, you can't even imagine. So, during the day I would pick at them, mostly my arms/legs and then I would put them into a pile on the floor. Isn't that disgusting??? Can you imagine sitting next to me? Yuck. I can't believe I even did that. The poor girl next to me, the poor janitor who had to vaccuum the room every night. How gross.

In California, the cafeteria is outside. It's under cover (for the one time a year that it would rain). Then from lunch we always played outside. The typical games and playground stuff - chase, dodge ball, swings. And before I had psoriasis I had plenty of options on the playground. Plenty of girls that I played with. When I returned to school looking horribly different I stood with the teachers during recess. I had no one to play with. Funny enough, I don't remember being sad about it. The teachers were wonderful. They played with me. They turned a jumprope for me. I was never upset that I didn't have friends on the playground. The teachers were so loving and protective.

At the end of the school year, there are always lots of fun events. We had a luau at the local park. I have pictures of it. It's May, which in California is quite warm... I'm wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt. With a grass skirt, made from different colored streamers the picture has me sitting with a group of three other girls. I don't really remember these girls, except they weren't mean. I was sitting with them, but I have a feeling I wasn't really invited. They were gracious. Third grade is not when most kids learn grace and compassion. But they never told me to move. I really appreciated that.

Then there was the end of the year, third grade pool party at one of the teachers' homes. My mom recalls this day - for some reason I've blocked most of it (except for the teacher telling us that we MUST use the bathroom and not pee in the pool. She said that her husband put in special chemicals that react with pee and turn the water a different color so that people would know that you had peed. Weird I know). Anyway - my mom recalls that I wore stretch pants and a tight tee shirt UNDER my bathing suit. Talk about embarassing. Like I said, I think we all know why I blocked it.

More tomorrow...

The Daily Routine...

2008-01-17T05:27:00.000-08:00

My Dad was back on the East Coast working out of Philly, my brothers were in school all day - so it was just me and my mom. She stayed at home with me for several months during the beginnings of my psoriasis. I wasn't permitted to be in school. She spent the day taking care of my skin. I believe it was her full-time job.

Just before bed, she would cover my body in different steroid creams/ointments and then wrap my arms and legs in saran wrap. She remembers that her father (my grandfather) had psoriasis on his elbows quite severly and would wrap them in saranwrap before bed. We found that not only was the "occlusion" good for loosening the scales but it kept me from scratching them. Before I was wrapped, I would wake up in the morning, with dried blood all over my sheets because I had unawarely been scratching my skin until it bled - all while I slept.

In the morning, after she un-saranwrapped me, I laid on a towel on the living room floor. She had to "loosen" all the scales. It would take what seemed like to me, a then 8 year old, hours to do. Now, as a mother, I can't imagine having to pick scales off my daughters entire body and scalp, knowing that it caused such pain. But also, just stomaching it day after day. She was so gentle, so patient. Never rushing to be done. What a blessing she is. What things she endured.

After that, I had to have light treatment. We were able to buy a UVB sunlamp for home instead of driving to a UVB lightbox at the clinic. She would have it pointed at different areas of my body for just a few minutes at a time, and then move it to the next spot. And the next. And the next. I never minded the light therapy. It was one thing that didn't hurt. I loved the warmth of the light, and remember how cold it felt whenever it would shut off.

After light therapy, more ointment. Then in the afternoon, I would have to bathe in a tar solution. It was thick and brownish-black. It was disgusting. But an important step in my treatment. My mom would sit outside the tub and read me stories while I soaked.

Then in the evenings, the ointment and saranwrap again. It was an all day affair. And never once did I see her wince at the sight of me, never once did I hear her complain... never once.

More tomorrow...

The Beach...

2008-01-16T05:37:00.001-08:00

So great! The doctor told me I had to go to the beach everyday, how bad could this be? We lived 15 minutes from the beach in San Diego. So, the very next day - my mom packed us up and took me to the beach. I couldn't wait. I kept thinking - no yucky medicine to swallow, no shots to take - what could be better.

My mom packed lunch, laid out a blanket and I went running for the water - so filled with excitement that we HAD to do this everyday to get better. And then it happened. The salt water hit my skin, my red sore flared up skin. As a seven year old, you've never had this happen before (you know, like the day you shaved your legs and hour before you hit the beach). The pain that soared through my body was horrific. I turned right around running to my mom screaming in agony. She wrapped me up in a beach towel and rocked me. We didn't even stay to have lunch on the beach. I was so sore, so upset. So disappointed. We did this everyday for weeks, until I think my mom couldn't take it anymore. I was so grateful. To this day, I'm not a huge fan of the ocean water.

More tomorrow.

Here's the Scoop...

2008-01-15T08:58:00.000-08:00

In 1984, we moved from our awesome house and neighborhood in New Bern, North Carolina to Escondido, California as a result of my father's job. It was a hard move for all of us, but one that we had to do. We'd made a big move just a few years earlier from Long Island, NY to North Carolina and no one liked the idea of doing it again.

I came into the 3rd grade part way through the year as a new student. Not always easy. Then my dad was re-assigned almost immediately to Philadelphia. So, he spent the rest of the nine months we actually lived in California, in an apartment in Philly, while we stayed in California. It was a hard time for our family.

Over Christmas break, I became sick with strep throat. Three weeks later, I broke out into a "rash" all over my body - little red dots, everywhere. The the dots became bigger, and bigger - it was spreading. And in a few short weeks, I was 70% covered with the "rash". I wasn't allowed to go to school (for fear that whatever it was that I had could be contagious), so for weeks I stayed home and my brother would bring my schoolwork home for me. After antibiotics and blood tests from our family doctor with no answers, he sent me to the Dermatology Department at Scripps Clinic - a well known hospital in the area.

As I remember, the hospital was enormous. The lobby ceiling seemed to never end. I went to the reception desk and without either my mother/I saying a word, the lady said, "You must be Stephanie". I thought that was so cool that she knew who I was (my mother was so kind and never said of course, that my appearance was so unusual, someone probably warned her). I was met by a dermatologist - I couldn't tell you what he looked like, but I'll never forget what he said. "I have good news and bad news, what do you want first?" We picked the good news.
"The good news is that you get to go to the beach every day". Sweet, I thought - that IS good news. "The bad news is that you have Psoriasis".

I remember my mom and I feeling relieved that at least we knew what it was. We finally had some answers. And a doctor that seemed to know how to "fix" it. As we came to find out later - there is no cure for psoriasis... but a myriad of treatments to try and hope for the best.

More tomorrow...

Psoriasis...

2008-01-14T05:50:00.000-08:00

Psoriasis, pronounced (sore-EYE-ah-sis) is a noncontagious lifelong skin disease. It appears as raised, red patches or lesions covered with a silvery white buildup of dead skin cells, called scale. No one knows exactly what causes psoriasis, but is believed to have a genetic component. Most researchers agree that the immune system is somehow mistakenly triggered, which speeds up the growth cycle of skin cells. A normal skin cell matures and falls off of the body's surface in 28 to 30 days. But a psoriatic skin cell takes only 3 to 4 days to mature and move to the surface. Instead of falling off/shedding the cells pile up and form lesions.

There is no cure for psoriasis. There are many different types of topical and systemic treatments to help clear psoriasis for periods of time. Seven and a half million Americans are said to have psoriasis. And I'm one of them.

More on this tomorrow...

Happy Belated Birthday Pumpkin Pie...

2007-12-20T20:22:00.000-08:00

Pumpkin Pie turned three years old last Friday. I think I'm still in shock really. Didn't I just have her? I feel like I'm still getting used to having three children, is it really possible that she's been on the earth for three years?!?

Our sweet Pumpkin Pie keeps us hopping. She's smart, and funny (makes me proud) and far more opinionated than the others. She's sharpening us, making us revisit our parenting techniques. She's challenging and adorable... makes me crack up in laughter when she says things like, "Dirty Mouth, Clean it with Armpits" (instead of Clean it with Orbitz". And she makes me scream with she says things like, "No!!!!!!!!" "No!!!!!!!!" "No!!!!!!"

I can't seem to get enough kisses and hugs from this sweet little girl. I suppose it maybe be because she gives them out so seldomly - but I treasure it when I get them without asking.

Happy Birthday Pumpkin Pie. I love you.

p.s. - Here is her scripture for the year, "Oh God, Our God, how majestic is your name in all the Earth." Psalm 8:9

No Tolerance For Profanity...

2007-12-12T12:32:00.000-08:00

Check out this article at MSNBC.com about a nun/principal who has a no tolerance policy at her middle school for profanity. I know several of you will appreciate this article. My favorite part of the article is the very last sentence - it gives me great hope that I'm not the only person out there who won't allow the words "stupid" or "boring" come out of their mouths without punishment.

Can I get an Amen???

Elf Yourself...

2007-12-07T16:47:00.000-08:00

You want to watch something really funny? Here's what our MHS boys show us and rope us into doing... enjoy.

Elf Yourself

What Were We Thinking...

2007-11-23T11:29:00.001-08:00

Well, I have to say, shopping at midnight at the outlets, didn't really appeal to me. But my dear friend, Like I Was Saying, decided she had to do it - just once. And so we did. After what we had heard from other shoppers - that it would be packed early, we took off for the outlet at 10pm. I called Like I Was Saying at 9:30 just to make sure she was still up for it - darn, she still is.

We definitely got there early. But lines were already forming. There was a line at the Coach Store an hour before they opened. Their line became outrageous - so much so that we had to go over and check it out - they must be having some amazing door prize - like giving away a free Coach Keychain or something. So, we ask the true Coach junkie - the lady at the front of the line. Her reply to why there is such a line: "I don't know - I think they might be giving an extra 10% off at the register." Wow... an entire 10 percent. Quick let's get in line! (hoping you can hear the sarcasm).

Lines were everywhere: Coach, Children's Place, Aeropostale. The sales must be incredible, right? Wrong. They were just like they are any other day when you head to the outlets. We were so unimpressed. Besides scoring a few stocking stuffers from Claire's - we came out close to empty handed. Ok, we also bought a mini whisk, a timer and a cupcake holder. Riveting, I know.

My biggest shock of the night - didn't come from the great deals. People brought their children.
That's right - children. Newborns, two year olds, six year olds, ten year olds... walking comatose in their pj's clutching their teddy bears while their ridiculous parents shopped at two in the morning for 10 percent off!!! That's my new pet peave of the week. I don't mind if you want to torture yourself and shop in the middle of the night - but there is absolutely no deal big enough to drag your precious sleeping children out of bed! If the deal is that great - get a babysitter!!!

Anyway... something about the 2:30 a.m. mark made my friend and I completely lost all rationale - and decided that it was only an hour and a half until JCPenney's opened up. That's right - JC Penney's at 4 a.m. The lines again began forming early - we decided that was just really stupid, and would wait in the car. JC Penney's is the only place that actually GAVE something to us lunatics who thought 4 a.m. was a reasonable hour to shop for Christmas. A mini snowglobe.

We scored some drapes for my living room at 65% off and she scored some pj's for the little one and a few gifts for her middle child, Brown Sugar.

Then something happened at 5 a.m. - our looniness (is this a word?) turned to hysterics when we thought it was a fantastic idea to "swing by" Toys R Us on our way home. Just so you know - there is no such thing as "swing by Toys R Us" on Black Friday. These Mommies and Daddies are crazy! We both found one thing - but once we saw the outrageous lines - bagged the deal and came home. We made it home at 6am. Whew.

So thank you my dear friend for an adventure. I've checked it off my list - and will NEVER. DO. IT. AGAIN.

Personality Test

2007-10-29T10:55:00.001-07:00

Thanks to my friends Classic Mama and Like I Was Saying - I thought I'd put off getting dinner started and take this personality test.

I am surprised by some of my results. I believe as I get older, I am less extraverted - desiring a more introverted lifestyle. I am desiring more structure and less social time. I find myself, although enjoying the social aspect in the moment, completely exhausted at the end of the evening. I used to be invigorated by it all. Now I just come home and crash. That's new for me.

I am pathetically low on thinking. And since I turned my brain off seven years ago to have children, the numbers, I believe will just continue to plummet. Legos and playdoh just don't really stimulate the brain, you know?

I am also sad to see that I am incredibly judging. I'd love to see God change that area of my life. I have always had strong convictions, but that shouldn't mean I judge others that don't share those same convictions.

Anyway, I like that I'm changing. I'd like to be around the 50% mark in each area of the test. "Well Rounded" - having a nice even amount of everything. That seems nice.

Take the test here. It's easy - there are no wrong answers for us "non-thinkers".

Feel Your Boobies

2007-10-21T04:43:00.000-07:00

Since I'm such a slacker when it comes to my blog, I missed something pretty important. Last week was "National Feel Your Boobies Week". That's right ladies - feel them. Go ahead and do it - your Self Breast Exam - it's important for your health. If you know me, you know I wear my FYB t-shirt with pride (and a giggle)... but what a great slogan to remind you to do your Self Breast Exams.

At first, I thought I wouldn't blog about it, since I missed their "official week". But ladies - don't fret! You can feel your boobies any day of the week, any week of the year! Who cares that it's "National Respiratory Care Week". Just put the two weeks together: Take a deep breath and Feel Your Boobies!

Happy Birthday Huckleberry...

2007-10-19T23:53:00.000-07:00

It's October 19th. More than a month since my last blog. So, I thought since today marks an important day in our family, I would get online and get busy. .. especially since I have 12 minutes to post this before his birthday is officially over.

Today is Huckleberry's 7th Birthday. Seven? Really? Can that be right? Don't get me wrong, it no longer feels like just yesterday when we brought him home. But it certainly doesn't feel like it's been seven years. Seven wonderful years. Huckleberry is such an awesome kid. Full of energy, a sweet spirit who questions the Lord with a wonderful curiosity, an unbelievable artist with an imagination that surpasses any I know, and aimes to please. My prayer for him this year is that his desire to please would transfer to a deep love and desire to please his Lord.

So last night, Stretch and I made 20 cupcakes for his classroom today, decorated his room, and wrapped a few presents in preparation for this big day. We began decorating their rooms after a suggestion from a speaker at a Moms In Action meeting. Growing up in a wonderful home with absolutely no traditions, Stretch and I have really desired to begin some with our own. It was such a hit that first year and our kids have come to anticipate their rooms being decorated as if it was Christmas morning. We decorate with wonderful signs (courtesy of Stretch, our resident artist), balloons and streamers.

To my surprise, Huckleberry woke up at 5:45 this morning and when I asked him why he woke so early, he said "I couldn't wait to read my scripture - it's a long one Mom, but I've read it twice already".

Each year, I pray that God would give me a scripture for each of my three kids. We write it on posterboard (unless, at 10pm you realize that your sons birthday is tomorrow so you improvise and use several sheets of computer paper taped together) and hang it on their wall... for the entire year.

We had no idea that it would be the hit of their birthday day. We've seen such fruit come from their scripture. Not only are they memorizing scripture, but we are really soaking in it - discussing it before bed each night, and how it specifically applied to our day. And since I have three kids - I'm AT LEAST memorizing three scriptures a year.

God convicted me the very first year that we did it that I was not to make the scripture a short, easy one for Huckleberry. So we started out with a challenging one. His scripture for his fifth birthday was, "Let love and faithfulness never leave you. Bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. Then you will win favor and a good name in the sight of God and man". Proverbs 3:3,4 - and he rose to the challenge.

For his sixth birthday, we did "Put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes you will be able to stand your ground". Ephesians 6:13 (this wasn't a very long one, but then we went through and discussed the armor of God e.g. Breastplate of Righteousness, Helmet of Salvation, etc.).

Last week he started asking me "what's it gonna be Mom", "just tell me now Mom". So, as I suggested a few that God was stirring in me, he got really excited about this one. Personally, I was leaning towards the 23 Psalm (since I get stuck about half way through it) and I already have the one he picked memorized. But he was so excited that I couldn't tell him no. And so his scripture for his seventh year of life is:

"For I know the plans I have for you", declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you," declares the Lord. Jeremiah 29:11-13

Happy Birthday Huckleberry! I love you like CrAzYcAkEs.

First Soccer Game...

2007-09-13T19:15:00.000-07:00

Huckleberry had his very first ever soccer game this past Saturday. We braved the sweltering heat and horrendous humidity with no shade for what seemed like hours (turns out it was only 45 minutes). Stretch and I were both quite nervous about how this day would go. Here's why...

An underenthusiastic Huckleberry has been playing soccer now for two weeks. When we signed up (like four months ago) he was totally excited. And then, a week before practice had even started, he mentioned in passing that he'd "changed his mind about playing soccer".

So I gently informed him that the soccer league hadn't changed their mind about cashing my $60 check four months ago. We also told him that he would be a "man of his word" (this saying is used OFTEN in our house) and play out the entire season... enthusiastic, or not.

Here's what a typical Tues/Thurs evening sounds like pre-soccer practice at the Jack House:

me: "Huckleberry get ready for practice".
him: "Fine".

me: "Huckleberry your getting your soccer jersey tonight. Isn't that cool"?
him: "I guess".

me: "Huckleberry aren't you excited about your first game"?
him: "Fifty-fifty". (this is a "charming" new phrase he's learned & one I wish I'd never heard).

So, it was with much tension that we watched to see what he would do. Well - turns out - he did a great job. He listened to the coaches, played well, and actually looked like he wanted to be there. Great. He likes it. Not a total failure.

Then I mention to Huckleberry that his practice was cancelled due to the rain on Tuesday night and you'd think I had just promised him a new set of Legos he was so excited. Looks like we'll be playing one season of soccer.

Oh darn. I guess I'll have to save my sixty bucks and reward myself with two more evenings at home, not lugging around the kids and my stupid folding chair to soccer practice. Oh darn.

Good Family Fun...

2007-09-12T03:43:00.000-07:00

My family I went to Paulus' Orchard recently. We picked our own apples off the tree (you can pick from a bushel or a peck) and ran the corn maize. Now, since my kiddos are little, the idea of the corn maize sounded like torture - so we opted for the mini-maize. It was fantastic. Noah ran through it about eight times. The girls and I only twice. (smile) They also have a small play area for the little ones as well. Chicken Nugget and Pumpkin Pie loved the "sand" box which was actually filled with corn kernels. It was a cheap and fun family day. Enjoy the pics:

Mommies Beware...

2007-09-11T11:15:00.000-07:00

OK ladies... I do alot of crafts with my kids. Painting, drawing, sculpting, making candles, tie dying... all sorts of stuff. So, I say with some expertise - FLOAM buyers beware!!!

My daughter, Chicken Nugget, is very tactile. She loves playdoh, goop, mixing meatloaf with her hands... anything. I tell her that someday she'll be a surgeon, maneuvering her hands into the core of someone's body. So, when FLOAM came onto the market, we were very excited.

The FLOAM packaging boasts how easy it is to use. Just simply roll it out and cover your favorite objects: a vase, a toy, a picture frame - they even show you a picture of a child's bike that has been completely covered in FLOAM.

And then we opened the container. And touched it. Oh my word! What a mess. It was so sticky, you couldn't shape it, roll it out, or cover something with it... unless you were trying to "floam" your own hands. It was a mess. I decided to let it sit out, with the lid off for a few hours. And it got better. After a few more hours, we were actually able to use it. We tried to cover aluminum foil that we had attempted to make into cool shapes. Nope, wouldn't stick. We tried several other items (no, not the kids' bikes) and then just eventually played with the stuff like PlayDoh instead. Expensive PlayDoh.

Then Chicken Nugget got a package of it for Christmas. This package came as a craft kit - including styrofoam shapes, two small packages of FLOAM, plastic eyes, and pipe cleaners. Yet again, when we opened it, it was horribly goopy - so we had to let it sit out for a few hours. We were able to make two little "creatures" - but not without alot of help from me.

Well, Chicken Nugget must have really gotten the word out that she likes this stuff, because she just received it for her birthday. I've been putting her off casually, each time she asks me, but I didn't get away with that for long. We opened it yesterday and it was so wet, it looked like slime in the bottom of container - it was disgusting. So, I did what I ALWAYS do when someone (smile) buys us this junk... I let it sit out. A few hours later - still too wet. Fast forward to 24 hours later and can see for yourself the results:

Needless to say - if you want to get on my bad side - buy this for my kids. If you want to FLOAM your own hands - buy this for yourself.

Play Date!!!

2007-08-29T10:00:00.000-07:00

It was a very silly time at the House That Jack Built today. Just see for yourself:

And He's Off..

2007-08-29T09:40:00.000-07:00

Many of us are sending our children off to school this week. I got to send both my son AND my husband back to school on Monday. They were both nervous, picking their outfits out the night before, making sure their bags are packed. It's a bittersweet day for all of us. The summer is over, and we're back to a routine. But like many of you out there... I feel like it's time. Time to get back into a routine... we've had a fun, and extremely fast summer.

I've had mixed emotions as this day approaches. On Sunday afternoon, Huckleberry and the others fell asleep on the way home from the outlet stores and Stretch laid him on our bed. I watched him sleep. It was so nice - I just watched him sleep. And it's then, when he's quiet and not moving that I can't bear the thought of him going to first grade. All day? Without me? With the influence of others that I can't control? But then I breathe... he's gonna be great in school. He's gonna love it.

And so with just a small tear in my eye - I sent him to school. But as he trotted into school with his Batman backpack on, I realized that it wasn't a tear of sadness... I was proud. Really proud - and I felt confident he was ready.

Happy 5th Birthday!!!

2007-08-26T19:34:00.000-07:00

We celebrated Chicken Nugget's Fifth Birthday yesterday in the SWELTERING heat. As she was opening her gifts, I actually had to wipe her face with a towel, because the sweat was literally, dripping off her face.

Her four closest friends joined her in celebrating. They decorated their own pair of sunglasses, painted their fingernails and toenails, tied ribbons in their hair, put on their own makeup (yikes) and played pin the tiara on the princess. We had other games planned that involved dressing them up in layers of princess clothes and running around the yard in a race, but we thought they might actually pass out. So, in their blue eyeshadow and purple nail polish, they played on the tree swing, barely ate pizza, and scarfed the cake while the icing was melting down the sides of the cake.

Happy Birthday Chicken Nugget. I love you -

Here's To the Invisible...

2007-08-16T20:47:00.000-07:00

I know you are all sick of looking at my family and I on our bikes from July, so I thought I would copy and paste this wonderful story I received over email from my dear friend. I've been feeling very much like the woman in this story and so found it very uplifting. I hope you will too:

I'm invisible. It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, theway one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone andask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'mon the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I'm invisible. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please." I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude -but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going . she's going . she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip,and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees." In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, afterwhich I could pattern my work: No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."And the workman replied, "Because God sees." I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there." As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

One of My Favorite Things To Do...

2007-07-25T18:31:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of us doing one of my favorite things as a family. So many reasons I love this activity:

1 - we're out of the house

2 - the kids aren't arguing

3 - i'm actually getting exercise

4- pumpkin pie is strapped into a seat and can't hit anyone

I took for granted how easy it is to open up the garage, throw the helmets on and ride around our awesome little town. I didn't realize that not everyone can do this, until last week Like I Was Saying mentioned that they were going for a bike ride... and they had to put their bikes on their van's bike rack and drive somewhere else - that was flat. I really had no idea... I guess I never lived anywhere hilly before.

I love my town... and I love bikeriding with my family.

Tagged??? Are you Kidding???

2007-07-24T18:53:00.000-07:00

OK, so I got tagged. Fantastic. Thanks alot Krazy Klingers! I have been avoiding this post since I returned from vacation. (I do hope you can hear the sarcasm in my voice).

Why you ask? For the six of you who actually read my blog - you already know everything there is to know about me! Don't you???

And if you don't already know it (because I am truly an open book), you probably don't want to know it... really. I'm serious.

In fact, several of you already know the things I would never want people to know in the first place.

Can you tell I've been thinking about this for a while??? Here goes nothin' - turn back now:

1- I played the trombone for six years. And I was good at it. I still have it, and the kids beg me to play it. I only remember one fight song from high school and Stretch is really sick of it.

2 - I love organization! I suck at it, but I still love it!

3 - I have an extreme disgust for boogers. I'll pick them out of my kids nose, heck I'll pick them out of YOUR KIDS noses. I just hate them. I've been known to use a Q-Tip to get them out. Gross, I know.

4 - I don't get nervous in a crowd of ladies, but ask me to do my "schtick" in front of my husband and forget it! I truly can't do it! Stretch has never heard my schtick before - and I don't intend to start now!

5 - I live in a house that is terribly wired... let me explain. If I want to microwave something and run my toaster at the same time - I can't. If I want to run an A/C unit upstairs in my daughters room and cook something in the oven - I can't. If I want to blow dry my hair and run a load of laundry - I can't. Gotta run the dishwasher? up, better make sure you don't have the coffee maker on. It's a major pain. I waste alot of time running to turn off one appliance just so that I can run the other. I already hate laundry, so then add in that I've got to run up and down two flights of steps to turn off an air conditioner, and you can imagine I let it pile up for a long time.

6 - I eat Lawry's Season Salt by the handful. I love that stuff.

7 - I have really stinky feet. I wash them several times a day... but they are still stinky.

8- When I write something down while I'm on the phone, I'll print it. But then as the conversation continues, I loop the letters together to make it look like cursive. You know what's really funny about that? I didn't even realize I did it - Stretch told me about this crazy quirk.

OK, so there you go! Weird, I know.

New Name, Same Great Site...

2007-07-18T18:47:00.001-07:00

Check out this blog - it's got a new name and new look with the same awesome blogger: Like I Was Saying.

No Rest for the Weary...

2007-07-18T12:24:00.000-07:00

So after four days with my family, we were heading off to the other side of the state to visit my dear friend, On Fire for Him, and her family. We had a great time with them. Here are some pictures of our time at an awesome children's museum in the area and a rockin' slide that's about 30 feet long that is in their backyard. Our kids all had so much fun together!

Chicken Nugget wants to know when we are going back to visit again. Well, since the trip took us almost 11 hours to get back home, it's gonna be a while until I volunteer for that trip again!

Next up?

2007-07-15T13:22:00.000-07:00

We arrived home from Virginia Monday afternoon and took the next few days to do the laundry and pack it up again. On Friday, we left for a weekend at the Milton Hershey School. Then after being houseparents to 13 senior high boys, we took off on Sunday night at 10p.m. to drive half way to North Carolina. We got a hotel room around 1 a.m. and settled in for a few hours rest. Except for Chicken Nugget - who got a terrible case of insomnia - how rude. We were up until 2:30 - then awoken by her at 7 a.m. - No rest for the weary! Spent a few hours hanging out at the hotel, having breakfast and swimming in the indoor pool and then drove the rest of the way to my oldest brothers house in Rocky Mount. My family drove and flew in from all over: Pennsylvania, Vermont, New Jersey, and Arizona to spend a week together. Here are some pictures of our trip:

With seven children under the age of seven we were all quite busy! I guess that explains why we have so few pictures of the trip! It was great to see all my nieces and nephews - and especially to see them all playing together. My grandparents, who are well into their eighties came down from Vermont. It was really special to have them there. And a shout out to my mom who is the craziest and most fun mom out there - You rock! She set up a tent out in the backyard and camped outside with any of the grandkids that wanted to. She played just as hard as the kids did and I know she was sad to leave.

Tune in next time, when The House That Jack Built leaves Rocky Mount and travels across the state of North Carolina to visit good friends!

Where Have I Been???

2007-07-14T11:10:00.000-07:00

We have been traveling around since the end of June visiting friends and family. Our first stop was to see our dear friends in Virginia who moved a year ago. He's in the Navy, doing his second year of residency as an OB/GYN. We had a fantastic time; "Red" was wonderfully hospitable and "Dr Fresh" was his crazy ol' self. The kids all had a blast together. Here is a glimpse of our visit:

Happy Father's Day

2007-06-17T10:17:00.000-07:00

Happy Father's Day to all you dad's out there! Thanks for all you do, for all you teach your sons and daughters.

And to all you ladies who are reading this blog today-call your dad or hug your dad - go do it. Set aside your differences, and tell your dad that you love him, that you are glad he's YOUR dad.

And to my Daddy in heaven - I love you, I miss you... thanks for being a WONDERFUL father.

What's Your Sleep Number???

2007-06-15T08:31:00.000-07:00

My sweetest friend on the planet, On Fire for Him, posted about her AWESOME score of a freebie. Well, I must admit, that I am most impressed. I love that the Lord not only provides our needs, but He also goes above and beyond - many times providing us with things we haven't even asked for!

Well, I have definitely been known to say, "If it's free, it's for me". And Stretch and I have been extraordinarily blessed with awesome things. So, after two of my dear blogger friends have suggested, I thought I would share my newest blessing with you:

That's right baby! I was blessed with a BRAND NEW - ORDERED IT MYSELF - Sleep Number, Select Comfort 5000 Queen Size bed. Ahhh - it feels so good.

If you haven't tried one of these beds, and you are in the market for a new bed - you've gotta go to one of their stores and try it. You may THINK you know what kind of bed you like - soft, hard, somewhere in the middle. But I honestly think you don't know what you like until you've got it in your room and you've slept on it a few nights. And chances are that if you like a soft bed, then your husband likes a hard bed. This bed has airchambers that you adjust by a remote control until you are comfortable. And when you are sick and want a bit of a softer bed, you just adjust the number down. When you are pregnant and need a firmer bed you just adjust the number up. It's amazing.

Our bed was old. Older than old - the last time Stretch and I flipped it, we noticed the date of purchase tag read 1989. Hello!?! I was 13 when this bed was purchased!!! (quick, I know you are doing the math) We were blessed with this bed from my grandmother when we got married (which truly was a blessing, because we were three weeks out of college and broke). She said the bed was just a few years old and she didn't need such a big bed anymore. Just a few years old??? When she gave it to us it was already 9 years old - and we've slept on it for 9 more years. In the last year or so, I've been in alot of pain, sleeping horribly, and waking up feeling like I hadn't slept.

Until now. It took a few nights to figure out that I didn't like a soft bed like I thought. But now that I've found where I'm most comfortable, I'm not tossing and turning. I'm not waking up with a headache (which happened on a regular basis in my old bed). And I feel rested. Really rested.

So, go to your nearest store and check one out. Find out your Sleep Number. I'm a 75. How about you?

Miracle on Dickinson Ave

2007-06-14T23:57:00.000-07:00

Dickinson Avenue is always a bustling place - with 24 kids on our block (that is NOT a typo) there is always action. Nothing unusally exciting or out of the ordinary - just 24 kids running from house to house: a popsicle at one house, badmitton at another, wiffle ball across the street, then over to the trampoline, then back over to our side of the street to the slip 'n slide to get unsticky from the popsicle, and then to our backyard to the play fort. Like I said, exciting, but nothing unusual.

Until Monday. While talking on the phone about who knows what with Mom In Action I saw an ambulance with its lights on pull up in front of my house. And since there was no emergency in my house I ran outside to see which one of my neighbors called for an ambulance. As I walked outside, I saw a woman I did not know laying flat out in my next door neighbors lawn. As I watched the woman's friend give her chest compressions and then the paramedics use the paddles, the kids came outside to see what the commotion was, and I knew I had to take them inside and explain what was happening. And then we prayed.

(God is really stretching me in this area - praying for healing. Why does He heal some people and then choose to not heal others, even though I prayed so intently, and for so long? What if the kids and I pray and He lets her die - what then do I tell my kids? It's been a constant battle in my brain and spirit).

So, I thought to myself, "here goes nothin' " and went for it. The kids and I prayed fervently for God to breathe His breath of life back into her body (because by this time, she had no pulse). When we went back outside and sat on the stoop, I just began to sing a quiet prayer to the Lord. I questioned the Lord, "is it her time to go"? Should I be praying that you heal her? Everyone is saying that she's dead. Did she have family? Did she know Jesus? So, still in a singing kinda prayer I prayed for those things. Ella sat with me and listened. And watched.

The paramedics seemed to be moving slower. Two men opened the ambulance doors and they slowly lifted her body onto a stretcher and loaded back up into the ambulance. They left for the hospital, no lights, no sirens, no nothing. I went back into the house and said to the kids that I thought she had died. I tried my best to explain the very thing I struggle with - "why". And what I love about my kids is that they seemed unshaken by the news and said, "now she's with Jesus... and Pop Pop". Yep, it's seems so easy when you're 6 and 4.

An hour later our neighbor came over to our house and relayed to us the most wonderful news - the woman made it. She's alive! After four minutes, FOUR MINUTES, having no pulse, NO PULSE! SHE - IS - ALIVE! The paramedics said that if her friend hadn't done chest compressions on her before the ambulance arrived, she would have never made it.

Thank you Lord for doing a miracle on Dickinson Avenue - and allowing me and my children to be a part of it.

And The "Mother of the Year" Award Goes To...

2007-06-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

Not me. Maybe not even you. Who would actually get one of these awards anyway? Now, don't get me wrong, I have wonderful mommy moments with my kids that get me a nomination... but I always lose my chance in the running for the "Mother of the Year" Award.

I say this phrase more often than I'd like to admit. It helps me to lighten up the fact that I've just done something or didn't do something that will land my kids in therapy as adults. The laughter helps... helps mask the tears that I've totally screwed up.

So, here's how I lost my chance in the running for the "Mother of the Year" Award:

I was on the phone with a "mommy friend". If you don't know what a mommy friend, it is someone you most likely wouldn't be friends with except that your kids are in the same class at school and so you rely on each other through the year. You don't necessarily call them to hang out (unless of course you have the kids with you).

Anyhoo - I was on the phone and in a fairly deep conversation that shouldn't be interrupted - and I kept hearing Pumpkin Pie's muffled voice yelling my name and pounding. I thought she was upstairs with the kids and her door was shut and she was unable to get the door open. (ok, now I'm lying - actually I thought one of the other kids had shut her into a closet and she couldn't get out, but really - does that detail matter? maybe a little). And since I was talking to a friend about her marriage, I thought it was inappropriate to interrupt her and therefore felt it was appropriate to ignore my screaming two year old for just a few more minutes - after all she wasn't crying.

About ten minutes later (even as I write that, I realize I ignored Pumpkin Pie WAY to long), I see my "neighbor friend" (similar to a "mommy friend" just met in different circumstances) walking across the street. Thinking she was just coming for a visit, I run over to the door and stretch to open it, still clutching my corded kitchen phone (trying not to interrupt my conversation) to welcome her in. And there I find her, Pumpkin Pie -standing on the front steps ALONE, in a diaper and high heels. That's right ladies, my two year old had been outside by herself on the front steps banging on the door to let her in for at least ten minutes. My neighbor friend saw her and heard her from across the street and thought she'd rescue her. Thanks Pam.

If only Pumpkin Pie knew how important the phone call was, she would have tried opening the stinkin' door herself. ha ha

Ah, so much for the Mom of the Year Award - I guess I'll have to relinquish it to someone far more worthy. Any of you have a great mommy moment that get you a nomination? Anyone lose the nomination before it was announced?

We Love T-Ball...

2007-05-31T04:16:00.001-07:00

We love our borough's T-Ball program. It has been such a wonderful experience for Huckleberry. Stretch has really enjoyed assistant coaching and it's hard to believe that The Tigers last game is on Saturday. Here are some great pics from the season:

Awaiting his turn at bat

Ready to field a ground ball

Huckleberry loves to tell people how he can hit a double!

Is there anything sexier than watching your husband coach your son?

The Tigers Cheering Section - Chicken Nugget & her dear friend wearing last year's jerseys

Bubble Fun

2007-05-18T13:20:00.000-07:00

If your kids are like mine - we go through alot of bubble solution. Most of it ends up on my driveway. Here's a fun recipe you can make at home with the kids:

2 1/2 cups of water

1/4 cup of dish detergent

1/8 cup of corn syrup

Stir well and enjoy!

Happy Belated Mother's Day...

2007-05-14T10:00:00.000-07:00

Happy Belated Mother's Day to all you mothers out there. Especially my own.

I had big plans to write a wonderful tribute to my mother and post it yesterday. I'll explain why it never happened.

My Mother's Day morning started out well. The kids came in at 6:30 because they were so excited to wish me a Happy Mother's Day... I thanked them graciously and then sweetly explained that a real treat for Mommy today would be that I get to sleep in. They surprisingly agreed. Great.

I awoke to presents from each of the kids and my husband and then a egg, cheese, and bacon bagel sandwich for breakfast. Still going great.

My husband took our Milton Hershey boys to chapel at 9 and the kids and I hung out until they came home a little after ten. Then I did a little laundry from our apartment at MHS and then I was heading out to Hersheypark for a few hours with some of our MHS boys. I met a few of my girlfriends there (RB scored free day passes to Hersheypark for moms) and we rode rides together for a few hours. Still a great day.

And then it happened. While standing in line for the front seats of the Great Bear (my alltime favorite ride) I started feeling one of my typical, weekly headaches coming on. But it was getting intense quickly. Then I noticed that the lower area of my right eye was getting blurry. At first I thought it was just a smudge on my glasses, but no. I was getting a full fledged migraine. We rode the Great Bear, twice. And after the second time, I was done. I excused myself from my friends and started towards the front gates when I realized I wasn't going to make it - I was going to either pass out on the trek, or throw up. I took a detour and headed to the First Aid station (which happened to NOT be as close as I would have liked), all the while holding my vomit back. I kept thinking - I do not want to throw up around all these people, I do not want to throw up in those bushes, I do not want to throw up in that garbage can.

Phew. I made it to the First Aid station. Laid down for about 15 minutes until I felt my stomache subside a bit. Then realized, I had to meet my MHS boys back at the van at 5:00 and it was pushing 4:30, and I knew I would need the entire half an hour to get there. So, off I left. By the time I made it to the van, I thought I was going to die. Literally. I stood hunched over next to the van just waiting for the vomit to hit - but I'll be darned, it just wouldn't come out.

The whole ride home I kept thinking, well if it hits me now, I'll pull over next to that restaurant. If it hits me on the next block, I'll pull of into that patch of grass. Ugh... what a miserable ride home. I made it back to our student home just in time, to puke my guts up for an hour and then lie in bed until 9 pm praying whatever was causing so much pain in my head wouldn't explode, while my sweet husband held down the fort - making dinner, packing our things, and taking 13 high school boys, and our own three young children to a mandatory softball game. He was awesome.

I'm feeling remarkably better this morning, but definitely feel like I spent yesterday in sheer agony. I'm calling the doctor, the chiropractor AND the massage therapist today.

So, I'm sorry mom that I never got to your tribute. It would have been beautiful, just like you.

Time to Pack Up Kids...

2007-05-11T14:25:00.000-07:00

Well, it's time to pack up the family again. We're off to the Milton Hershey School this weekend. Stretch, myself, and our three kids pack up our things every other weekend and work as Relief Houseparents to 13 High School Boys. It's a tiring, and sometimes rewarding job.

By this time of the day, I'm usually packed. Today? Not so much. Instead, I'm blogging? Why, you ask? Because I don't feel like going to MHS this weekend! And when I don't "feel" like doing something, I procrastinate until the last possible moment. It's a wonderful character trait I possess. My husband "loves" it. ha

Since I never got my act together enough to do laundry it is piled high on the laundry room floor. Hoping I could get away with packing from what's left in our dressers was a lofty idea - and obviously now I realize will not work. So, what should I do? Of course, I'll just pack a bag of dirty clothes that I SHOULD HAVE WASHED days ago, and wash them tonight at Hershey. Brilliant.

That's what I'll do. My husband will be so proud of my resourcefulness, don't you think?

Coming out of it...

2007-05-10T10:08:00.000-07:00

Well, ladies... I do think I'm coming out of my funk and feeling a little more like myself again. I'm getting things back in order and have been to the food store, bought diapers and am finally over losing my sunglasses.

For about 2 years now I have noticed that I feel great for like 3 weeks straight and then it hits me - I lose all motivation... I mean all. I don't get up before the kids, I don't want to wash the dishes, I neglect the laundry for an entire week, sometimes two. And then I start to come out of my fog and have quite a disaster on my hands because I've let EVERYTHING go.

If you know me, you know I'm a "feeling" kinda girl. God created me with all sorts of personality traits, but the two traits I tend to lean on most are emotion and feeling. I'm not a big thinker (surprise, I know) I run quite strictly on my emotions. So I decided to do something that is not part of my personality - I thought I would "track" my moods - not based on the circumstances of the day, but an overall feeling. And because I have it written down in black and white, it now makes perfect sense - it's my hormones!

Since having my third child, I definitely notice alot more hormonal issues that I will choose to not go into today (your welcome) but for sure, my hormones are in high gear in my thirties.

But what do they say, "knowledge is power"? I know now that my hormones are different than they used to be, so I know now how to pray. Everyday my prayer has been, "Lord whatever my hormones are doing today, whatever the circumstances of my day will be, help me build my house on the rock."

God created our hormones, for good reason, but certainly NOT to take over our moods, our day, our lives. Satan wants nothing more than to let something else control us. But the Lord is in control. And I claim it everyday.

If you want to know more about YOUR personality, check out my dear friends post at Mirror, Mirror.

We'll Call Him Stretch...

2007-05-08T15:18:00.000-07:00

OK, none of you came up with a good blogger name for my husband, so I've been calling him "husband". And he's not thrilled. He shouldn't be. It's a terrible nickname.

And then I realize, why am I asking other people to name MY husband??? I know him better than any of you. So I thought of some of his endearing qualities; he's humble, funny, thoughtful, strong, giving, handsome, forgetful (oh wait, that's not endearing), artistic, supportive, smart and a great gardener. Then, I tried to come up with a name for him, and they were all corny. YOU try and come up with a name for a humble man that isn't corny.

So, I'm calling him Stretch.

Stretch is 6'4". With an entire foot difference between us, he towers over me. And I like that. It makes me feel safe. I appreciate his height. He can reach things I can't. Kids think he's enormous. Adults ask him how tall he is. And everyone assumes he's a really good basketball player.

It's hard to find clothes for his long arms and legs and even harder to find size 14 shoes on sale.

But nevertheless, I love that he's tall.

So, What's New?

2007-05-07T08:00:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't been posting much. Thanks for checkin' in. Truly, nothing that's going on in my life seems worthy of the written word. Not that I'm not busy, it's just nothing exciting. In fact, I dread when the phone rings and someone asks, "so, what's new"?

What's new? Hmmm, let me see:

I lost my prescription sunglasses last week & had to replace them at the tune of $174.

Huckleberry's TBall is going well. He made his first out of the season on Saturday.

Chicken Nugget's gymnastics class is going well. She loves it.

We've been surviving on frozen waffles and canned peaches for days - I just can't seem to get it together enough to go to the food store.

I'm fat - and I just can't seem to get it together enough to go for a run. You would think with the lack of food in my house I'd at least been losing a few pounds. Nope.

There's a note in my file at the optometrist's office that reads "uncooperative patient" - I'd rather die than get those awful eye-numbing drops in my eyes.

I have two diapers left - I just can't seem to get it together enough to go to Wal-Mart.

On Saturday Pumpkin Pie passed out on Stretch. Yes, really, passed out. She's fine now.

We went to Friendly's for lunch this weekend and I let all three children have ice cream for lunch. No chicken fingers and french fries... just ice cream.

I hate laundry. My basement is a sea of clean unfolded laundry that will most likely be too wrinkled to wear. I just can't seem to get it together enough to fold it.

Anyone see the common thread in this post? I CAN'T SEEM TO GET IT TOGETHER! So, like I said - nothing exciting. So forgive me for not writing sooner, but this stuff is boring.

Suffocating at the Mall...

2007-05-06T12:19:00.000-07:00

I was at the mall the other day. By myself. Let me say that again - BY MYSELF. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Any other time I'm at the mall, I'm carting along three kids. We don't stop at stores that interest me. We check out the sales at Children's Place, then head over to the Disney Store, then a brief check in Old Navy for kids clothes on sale, and then grab an Auntie Anne's Pretzel loaded with cinnamon and sugar to share on our way out.

When I'm by myself - it's a different story. I go to the shops that interest me. Bath & Body Works to see if the foaming soap I love for the bathroom is 4 for $10, head to the rack in the way back of the Gap to find a bargain, then over to Macy's to try on a bathing suit (who am I kidding), pass Auntie Anne's (because I just came out of Macy's), loop around to Old Navy and then I'm done.

I always think I'm going to thoroughly enjoy myself at the mall when I'm flyin' solo. But I don't.

As I walk into the Gap, I think to myself: I'm not really this preppy. Better leave.
As I walk into Lady Foot Locker, I think to myself: I'm not really athletic. Better leave.
As I walk into Old Navy, I think to myself: I'm not really this trendy. Better leave.
As I walk into Sears, I think to myself: I'm not really this old. Better leave.

See, when I'm with my kids, I'm taking care of their needs. I'm not thinking inwardly, and I'm certainly not paying attention to anyone else at the mall. I imagine that when people notice me and the kids, they see a confident mom with three kids. At least that's how I feel... I've got clean clothes on, a little lip gloss, and we're having a good time out at the mall.

When I'm not with my kids, I turn very inward. And I feel like just another woman... and out of style, frumpy, no make up woman. I lose all sense of confidence. I question who I am, what style I like, and I get horrendously indecisive.

I slowed up to peek into Abercrombie & Fitch today thinking I might go in when I noticed the "boy" who was working in the front of the store was looking at me while I was looking in, and I thought to myself, "who are you kidding", you aren't cool enough to step foot in that store. People would laugh.

Oh I hate that people would laugh. Not out loud I hope, but to themselves - which for me is far worse. See... I actually love to MAKE people laugh. I enjoy telling you my flaws in order to make you laugh and put you at ease that you aren't the only lunatic mom out there. It's an entirely different story when you see MY flaws and you're laughing at me.

So while I'm in the mall, walking the halls, now not confident enough to go into most of the stores around me, I think about what others must think about me: why is she in this store; she's certainly not shopping for herself; wow for a girl her age, she's really let herself go. And then in my head I start rebutting the ridiculous comments I have decided others must be saying: "they don't know I have three small kids, that I'm out for a brief moment without them, that I'm dressed like this because I just came from a TBall game, and that I rarely buy myself new clothes and it's not because I don't want to"!

And then I snap out of it - the people around me don't know me, they don't care how I'm dressed. And if they have noticed, who cares. I realize I'm going WAY too inward for my own good. And so I go home. No bags in hand.

I feel as though I've just been suffocating in the mall and actually look forward to the moment I'm back in my minivan, alone.

So why am I confident when I'm with my kids and considerably lack it when I'm alone?
(i think this is a rhetorical question, but if you feel a real desire to comment, please do)

What in the World?

2007-05-05T19:57:00.000-07:00

What do an old cell phone, a used lollipop stick, a Transformer toy, a used Band-Aid, and 62 cents have in common???

Nothing. I just found them all in the bottom of my washer. My son's cargo pants OBVIOUSLY have too many pockets.

Tongue-Tied Over Heelys

2007-04-21T15:33:00.000-07:00

Huckleberry got a VERY early birthday present - his first pair of Heelys. (Yes it's spelled with a "y" and not "ie"). He's been asking for them for two years and I keep saying, "when you turn 7". Well, for those of you who know us, Huckleberry is six months shy of turning 7. But I started researching them, looking for them on sale (not) and I found an "almost new" pair of Heelys on eBay for $47. Sweet. So, he got them early. Everytime he tells someone that he got Heelys I ask, "and what are you getting for your birthday from Mom and Dad?" He knows the answer so he smirks and says "Nothing". That's right...

But these stupid things - I can't talk about them without tripping over my words. I want to call them Wheelies, but their actually called Heelys and everytime I make the mistake you better believe he corrects me. What I WANT to say is, "Noah, take your wheels out of your heelys." But what comes out of my mouth is something not nearly as smooth. It's more like, "Noah take your wheelies out of your heelys, I mean your heelys out of your wheelies... I mean TAKE THE WHEELS OUT OF YOUR HEELYS!!!" ugh... why couldn't they just call them Wheelies. Really...

Finally, Our Easter Pictures

2007-04-17T11:08:00.000-07:00

OK, ok I know Easter was like two weeks ago... I just haven't had a moment to come down here to my computer to blog. Sorry if you've been checking my site everyday, just to be disappointed that you are still reading "Girlfriend-Induced Amnesia" as my most recent post.

Easter was wonderful. We went "home" to see our families. Husband and I grew up together which makes going home easier in some ways, and difficult in others. We grew up a mile from one another so we never have to decide where we are going for the holidays. It's always the same town, but that's where the easy part ends. Husband and I have a conversation that goes something like this:

Me: Are we staying at my mom's house or your parents' house?
Husband: Your moms.
Me: Are we having Easter dinner with my mom or your parents?
Husband: My parents.
Me: Well, since we are staying at my mom's house, let's go to your mom's house for lunch, then come back and have some time with my mom before we have to go back over to your mom's house. Wait, that means we'll be eating both lunch and dinner with your mom. What about my mom?

Aaaahhhhh!!!!!!!! See what I mean about it not being so easy? We spend half the time of our visit back home driving back and forth trying our best to give equal time, that's also quality time, to each family. It's tricky. But it works.

Here are some pictures from our visit back home:

Girlfriend-Induced Amnesia

2007-04-04T14:45:00.000-07:00

Have I forgotten that I have small children? Some days, I honestly do. Like last night, for instance. I met up with a few of my best friends at our sons' T-Ball practice. All three of them have two boys, one who is on the T-Ball team, and the younger sibling who was practicing with them. Thank you to sweet little BC from The Campbell Corner for not practicing with the team, because my two girls were grateful for your company!

Whenever I see my girlfriends I get really excited to have a moment to catch up with them. Except that I momentarily forget that I am still responsible for my children. I like to call it "Girlfriend-Induced Amnesia". I just zone in on my friends and forget all about the three little children I brought with me.

At Huckleberry's practice last night I had both my two year old daughter, Pumpkin Pie (she's into EVERYTHING and my four year old daughter, Chicken Nugget (who has decided that she really just likes to hang all over me, most of the time).

Still, I try to have a normal conversation with my girlfriends while trying to tell Chicken Nugget (in my own little sign language, so as not to interrupt the conversation that I'm desperately trying to be involved in) that I just can't hold her one more time today. I pacify her for a brief few minutes as she goes to play with BC. I then realize that in the course of helping Chicken Nugget and hearing a few bits and pieces of the conversation I'm really not involved in at all, Pumpkin Pie is nowhere in my sight. Then I see another mom scoop her up as she is running towards flying t-balls and six year olds running around the bases. "Thanks", I say horribly embarrassed that someone else is watching my kids more closely than I. And then I think to myself, OK, I can go back over to my friends.

Not quite, the girls both have to go to the bathroom, great. Take them to the public bathroom, ew. Girls room isn't open, so I'm now in the men's room, and yuck there is also no soap. Gross.

OK, we're back. Where were we... (I want so desperately to be in this conversation, but have I forgotten that I have three children, two of who are not in T-Ball practice)? Apparently I have. So as I realize I'm AGAIN not paying any attention to them I glance around - Oh good, they are entertaining themselves in the double stroller. Pumpkin pie is pushing Chicken Nugget in the stroller. Great.

It feels like such a tease to have my friends right here and not be able to talk. So I try again to be involved in a conversation that was really never meant for me to be a part of... and then I hear a scream. The same mommy friend who saved Pumpkin Pie from being attacked on the T-Ball field, has now scooped up Chicken Nugget - the double stroller is flipped backwards and her mouth is filling up with blood. And what am I thinking you ask? Here's what I'm thinking - (I can't believe another mom saved both of my girls tonight, you are a terrible mother AND my next thought is - I will really get NO TIME with my friends). I rush them both down the street to our house - which thankfully is four houses down from the TBall field. I'm carrying Chicken Nugget and trying to drag two year old Pumpkin Pie - she isn't keeping up - what's wrong with her? uh - perhaps it's because she's two you idiot and her legs are like five times SHORTER than yours! So I scoop her up in my other arm (that's also carrying my thermos of tea that I thought I'd get a chance to sip while talking to my friends) and take them home. Take care of the boo boos and grab two popsicles (popsicles make most boo boos feel better).

As I head back to field, the notion of having time with my friends has slipped away. And in my heart I tell the Lord that I know I've been really selfish for the last 45 minutes. I have three beautiful children who need my attention. I don't get to choose my friends over my children like I tried to today. So now, I'm back at the field.

I now don't even desire to talk to anyone. We sit at the picnic table and eat popsicles as the TBall practice is ending. And amazingly, when I sit with the girls and give them my undivided attention, like a good mommy should, we finish the practice without incident. Hard to believe, I know.

I have such times of selfishness that I'm embarrassed. Embarrassed that I can't die to myself each day and give my kids my very best - even when my friends are there and all I want to do is have adult conversation with these friends I treasure. But then God reminds me of the three little treasures He gave me... and right now, they need me, all the time - but they won't always. In fact, I'm already noticing this with Huckleberry - and it makes me a bit sad. (Not ball your eyes out sad, but like "aw - he doesn't need me as much" sad). So instead of being mad Lord, help me to remember there will be more times for "me time" as they get older and to treasure the times with them now.

I gotta tell ya - the next time I run into this dilemma, I pray God reminds me of this crazy night where I tried to be both girlfriend and mommy. I'll give up multi-tasking and just be a mommy in those moments... and schedule a coffee date with my friends for later that night.

Clothes, Clothes, Everywhere!!!

2007-04-02T09:20:00.000-07:00

Don't you love the change of seasons? I do. I love the sounds of a new season... in spring the windows are finally being opened, the birds are chirping, the neighborhood is alive again! On our block alone, we have twenty kids from toddlers to high schoolers... and it's wonderful. My kids are never outside alone, never bored, never needing someone to play with. They travel together in a pack from one back yard to another - and with the majority of moms at home during the day, there is always an adult around. It's just awesome.

The downside to the change of seasons, as I'm sure most moms will agree, is the "Switching of the Clothes". With three small kids, this chore seems to go on forever. It's just not as simple as switching out the long-sleeved shirts for short-sleeved ones. Oh no, I wish. Some spring days feel more like summer and we need shorts and t-shirts, then there are days like today where the kids are better off in shorts, a long-sleeved shirt and a windbreaker. Then, we have to try on all the clothes - what fits, what doesn't, what needs to be given away, stored away until next year, or put in another bin for their younger sibling. I am inundated with bins and boxes - I'm ready to scream! My girls can't even walk in their room!

So as I'm "trying" to get the kids organized, I thought I should have a bin in each of their closets that at the beginning of the season with be completely. I've labeled it "(kids name) - Too Small". Then during the season, as they outgrow their clothes, I simply toss them into this bin and at the end of the season toss it into a box to either store for their younger sibling, or give to Goodwill. I'm sure many of you are laughing at my pathetic attempt to make my life easier, but I'm pretty thrilled about it. If you have any other great ideas for this crazy change of season, I would love to hear from you! In the meantime I'll start simple...

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow...

2007-04-01T21:16:00.000-07:00

My husband is a middle school teacher who will go to great lengths to motivate his students.

Every year he coordinates the Math-a-Thon, a school wide campaign to raise funds for St. Jude's Research Hospital by getting pledges for completing a certain number of math problems. In order to really motivate the kids to raise more money than usual, he decided that he would give them an incentive. If they raised $4000 this year, he would let the students shave his head, completely!

Oh my word. "Lord, please I really love St. Jude's and the sweet sick children who benefit from the funds that Husbands school will raise, but please Lord, let it be less than $4000".

Horrible, I know. So, for the last few months, my clean cut husband has been allowing his hair to grow, to make the shaving ceremony even more dramatic. I gotta tell you, the last few weeks have been a real challenge for me. I love my husband, no matter what, we've been together since the 12th grade. But... I really go for the clean cut look. I'm not a fan of facial hair, scruff, or slopping long hair. And he's gone a bit overboard. Not only did he let his hair grow for MONTHS, but he has also been forgetting to shave a small area of his face too. I don't even know what you call it, it's not a goatee, it's that small patch of hair that grows under you husband's lower lip - it's lower than a mustache, and higher than a goatee - help me out ladies. I'm sure there is a catchy name for it. I call it "dirt". Loving, I know.

God has really stretched me on this. I've been trying to keep my mouth shut and let him do what he wants with both his hair and his face, but my name isn't Say Anything for nothin'.

Husband's school raised alot of money to benefit St. Jude's Research Hospital, but not enough for him to have his head shaved in the auditorium of his school. As soon as I found out, I informed him that he should not come home until he has gone to the barber. I also told him to have the barber take the "dirt" off of his face. My husband looks like a brand new man. Hallelujah. Here are the before and after pictures:

BEFORE

AFTER

Four Days 'til The Bachelor...

2007-03-29T21:01:00.000-07:00

Anyone else excited for another season of The Bachelor? I don't know why I like this show really. I don't even know why I'm blogging about it. I suppose I just saw the commercial for it and I keep thinking, put it on the calendar, put it on the calendar, you know you're gonna forget. Pathetic, I know.

There's definitely something I enjoy about the show. The last two seasons, Mom in Action and I swore we would NEVER WATCH AGAIN. Right. So what is it that I like? Maybe it's watching these women swoon over a man they've never met, planning their weddings before the show has even started. Maybe it's seeing just how extravagant ABC can get with their dream dates on private islands with silk pillows and candles everywhere. Or maybe it's the late night call to Mom In Action to laugh about Erica's tiera or moan about the girl he picked at the end... it's just fun. Mindless fun.

If you want to join the fun, The Bachelor starts Monday at 9:30 on ABC.

It's a Land of Make-Believe...

2007-03-29T14:00:00.000-07:00

My dear hubby and I recently took the kids for a road trip - we just really needed to get out of the house. We drove to Lancaster to spend a few hours at the Hands On House. The kids LOVE pretending and this is the perfect place for them to really act things out! Chicken Nugget would pretend (with me of course) 24-7 if I would oblige... but I just can't. I've been pretending now for six and a half years, and honestly, I'm getting a bit weary.

The Hands On House is awesome. The first time we went, the kids liked it so much that I bought a year membership for the family. With three kids of different ages - it can satisfy the needs of each of the kids. I think that Huckleberry is on the tailend of the age range - but he still enjoyed it very much. Their yearly membership includes reciprocity with a long list of museums throughout the United States - including the Please Touch Museum in Philadelphia which is really awesome!

They have a face painting area where the kids do it themselves, a farming area where they ride on a tractor and learn about different farming equipment and the agriculture of the area, a factory called the Whatcha Ma Giggle Factory where the kids get to punch in a time clock and work on an assembly line, a dress up room with a stage and a pirate ship to send fun flags up the mast. And the girls personal favorite - the supermarket. The girls always spend alot of time in this area either shopping and "buying" the food, or being the check out girl. It's alot of fun. You can even grab a preprinted shopping list when you walk in - making it fun and educational.

This is a great place! During the week it is normally a quiet place - never over crowded and small enough to let your kids run around from station to station. On the weekends, well it's always more crowded on the weekends, but still not unbearable. Here are some pictures from our trip.

Introducing The Jack Family...

2007-03-28T21:15:00.000-07:00

Sorry it's been so long since I posted something new. I caught a bit of flack last night from my dear friend, Mom in Action, so here I am. Are ya happy?

Blogger and I have been having technical difficulties adding pictures to my blog and what fun is a blog about your family if you can't attach pictures to it!?! So now that Blogger figured out the problem on their end, I am back in business. That does not mean that I will be posting everyday - let's be real now. There are some of us who blog recreationally, and there are others a bit addicted (you know who you are).

Without further adieu I would like to introduce my family:

Husband & Pumpkin Pie

Huckleberry & Chicken Nugget

I love having a face to go with the name. Hope you enjoy!

Make Your Own Playdoh!

2007-03-17T11:00:00.000-07:00

Here's a great recipe that I got from a dear friend for Kool-Aid Playdoh. The kids and I made it a few days ago and had alot of fun. It smells awesome, doesn't stain and lasts longer than the real stuff.

2 1/2 cups flour

1 cup salt

2-3T vegetable oil

2 cups boiling water

2 packages same colored Kool-Aid

Mix all dry ingredients together, then add the boiling water and oil. Mix with a spoon (it will be too hot at first), then knead it with your hands until the mixture is completely incorporated.

This makes alot of dough - so I split the recipe and made two colors instead of one. Store them in ziploc baggies.

HAVE FUN!

Flarp!

2007-03-13T20:01:00.000-07:00

As I'm writing to tell you about this hysterical "toy"... my 4 year old daughter, "Chicken Nugget" is sitting under my desk playing with it. Ah... Flarp. It's 88 cents of pure bathroom humor fun. I first found this treasure at the Hershey Wal-Mart. *** sidenote: The Milton Hershey Boys always want us to take them to Wal-Mart - not sure what the big draw is. I guess it's like me going to the Pottery Barn Outlet. I'd go every weekend if someone would take me. Anyway - back to the Flarp.

Flarp is "noise putty" - I guess "Noise putty" looks better on the packaging then "Fart Putty" - which is exactly what it is.

I'm not a fan of the real thing - growing up in my family, you just didn't rip 'em whenever you had the urge - so I'm disgusted when members of my own family (I'll keep them nameless) take such liberty. I'm just really grossed out. But Flarp on the other hand - is hysterical, not disgusting and has a pleasant odor, as opposed to the real thing.

Chicken Nugget loves this stuff. She is constantly using it and laughing uncontrollably. It's harmless stuff - and my kids love it.

I would not however, buy it for a friend. We made this mistake over the weekend. Chicken Nugget saw it at the Dollar General and wanted to buy it for her friends' birthday. I didn't even think twice about it! I suppose I should have. The little boy loved it - in fact, it was quite a hit at the party. Not sure if his mom was thrilled that we bought her sweet son a can of fart putty. But it sure did make everyone laugh at the party. The little boy's brother wanted his own can, so did the neighbor boy - so, as if we didn't already do enough - we bought some for them the next day and put it on their doorstep. Thought we'd send a little more Flarp their way.

If you have an extra 88 cents to spare - pick it up next time your at Wal-Mart - it's in the toy department. It comes in lots of different colors and scents (pleasant scents, not realistic ones) and it is guaranteed to make your family laugh!!!

*** The birthday boy's father informed me that although Flarp does not stick to most household surfaces, it will in fact stick in your child's hair ***

$$$ Save, Save, Save $$$

2007-03-08T22:15:00.000-08:00

That's what I told my 6 year old son, Huckleberry, when he asked me to buy him an $80 Nintendo Game Boy Advance. I made a deal with him that when he saved half, Dad & I would pay the other half. That was in December. Surprisingly, with only a dollar a week allowance, a little money from Memom and Pop, a gift card for Christmas, a few dollars from Great Grandma and presto... he's saved the $40.

I was sure hoping it would take longer. So when he informed me a few weeks back that he had saved his $40 - I panicked and said, "well now Daddy and I have to save our half". He seemed to think that was a reasonable answer. Thank goodness.

I'm not a big fan of gaming equipment. I didn't play them and neither did my husband. So I've been hesitant to get one for Huckleberry. He really enjoys them - so I've researched the different game systems and the Nintendo Game Boy Advance has alot of really fun, kid-friendly games out there.

He'll of course have limitations on the time ge gets to play and he will most certainly have to finish his morning chores before game time.

So we finally bit the bullet tonight and bought it.

Fifteen Pounds To Lose - Can I Do It?

2007-03-06T22:00:00.000-08:00

I joined a "Biggest Loser" group through Moms in Action at our church, because since having my third child, "Pumpkin Pie", I have gained 15 pounds. What's so sad is that I lost all my "baby weight" and then packed on the pounds well after she was born. So, I can't blame any of this on Pumpkin Pie - besides, I think you only have about a year after they are born to blame it on them - and she's 2.

Needless to say, I've gotta lose this weight. I've been in denial for a while. But with each button that pops, and each pair of pants that "shrinks", I come closer and closer to realizing, I've gained weight, and it's not coming off without my help.

At our group last night we identified the times of day that we struggle with our eating/snacking, and the foods that we love to eat that we shouldn't. It was information that we all admitted that we already knew, but it sure did help me to say them outloud. I am a huge snacker during the day, but never have an issue at night. I love chocolate and crave cookie dough like no human really should.

Towards the end of the meeting we committed to make some changes and report back at our next meeting in a month. I'm blogging what mine are in hopes that it will spur me to actually do them:

1 - do free weights during American Idol
2 - run on treadmill three days a week
3 - hang my bathing suit up next to my mirror as a reminder that summer is not that far away

So far, I've done only one of the above - Idol was terrible tonight, but I felt good doing my free weights during it. The treadmill intimidates me - I've had it for three weeks now, and not yet run on it - but I'm determined to get on it... tomorrow :) And last but not least, my bathing suit is packed upstairs in the cold dark attic - think I'll send my husband up there this weekend to grab it for me.

Parmesan Corn Chowder

2007-03-06T21:30:00.000-08:00

Found this recipe in a cookbook this morning and was thrilled to see that I didn't have to go to the food store for any of the ingredients. I love those types of recipes. And I love the fact that I could put off going to the food store with three kids yet another day. I won't be so fortunate tomorrow - we're out of milk, eggs and well, just about everything else. So without further delay - here it is:

Parmesan Corn Chowder

2 cups chopped peeled potato

1/2 c thinly sliced carrot

1/2 c thinly sliced celery

1/4 c chopped onion

1/4 tsp pepper

1/4 cup margarine/butter

1/4 c flour

2 cups milk

1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1 - 17 oz can cream-style corn

In a large Dutch oven, stir together 2 cups water, the potato, carrot, celery, onion and pepper. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 10 minutes.Meanwhile, in a large saucepan, melt the margarine/butter. Stir in the flour. Add the milk all at once. Cook & stir over medium heat until the mixture is thickened and bubbly. Add the cheese, stirring until it is melted. Carefully add the cheese mixture to vegetable mixture. Stir in the corn. Heat the soup through, stirring occasionally. Do not boil.

(I made two changes - I added another cup of water because it just didn't seem like enough & I added two chicken bouillon cubes to the water - I thought it might be a bit bland boiled in just water).

A month ago, I bought a chunk of fresh Parmesan cheese at the store - I always thought it was too expensive. It isn't cheap - but it is really worth it, everything tastes so much better and the cheese lasts a really long time. Try it, let me know what you think!

"That's My Boy"

2007-03-05T22:00:00.000-08:00

Last night, after we arrived home from Hershey at 9pm, moved the sleeping kids from the car to their beds, unpacked the car, unpacked the suitcases AND folded all three loads of laundry that I left on my bed before we went away - we retired to our bed - surprisingly not tired. So...

I know where you THINK I'm going with this ladies (really girls you should know me better), but I'm actually not. I read a few chapters of my book and my hubby was catching up on schoolwork. As we were both quietly sitting in bed, we hear my 6 year old son (Huckleberry) get out of bed to come downstairs to go to the bathroom. And my husband comments with pride, "that's my boy". (Background - after 3 years of bedwetting every night and ALOT of prayer, he no longer has the problem. So when we hear him getting out of bed at night - it's a big deal).

Anyway - we hear him get out of bed, and then I get engrossed back into my book, and don't notice he never comes down the stairs. My husband turns to look at me and says, "Huckleberry is peeing on his bedroom floor". It takes me literally a minute for my brain to register what he has just said. And then I realize that sound that I THOUGHT was a plane far in the distance, is actually the sound of my dear son, peeing on the hardwood floor in his bedroom, which is directly above us (in fact doing his business practically over our heads).

What's funny is my hubby and I look at each other like, "you're gonna take care of this right?", but he doesn't budge. So I grab some rags and "joyfully" head upstairs. And there is Huckleberry in the middle of his bedroom with his pants down looking confused that I just turned the lights on. "Huckleberry, what are you doing?" He responds completely bothered that I asked, "I'm going to the bathroom!" So I say, "Baby, you just peed all over your Matchbox Track and the Teradactyl Hat you and Daddy made" (if you don't know what the Teradactyl Hat is - please don't ask). He looks down at his toys and hat and responds, "oh". And then he pulls up his pants and goes back to bed.

I couldn't wait to tell him all about it in the morning, because I knew he wouldn't remember. He didn't believe me until I showed him his Matchbox tracks in the sink and his Teradactyl hat at the curb (it's garbage day).

Hope you got a good laugh - we sure did!

You Can Pick Your Friends & You Can Pick Your Nose...

2007-03-05T16:00:00.000-08:00

You know the old saying, "you can pick your friends, you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friends' nose". Well, I just asked my dear husband what he would like to be called on our blogpage. He gave me two ideas, albeit not very good ones and then declared "you can't pick your own nickname". So, to anyone out there who is actually reading my blog AND knows my husband - I need your help. Give me your best nickname for my husband. Get creative!

Can't wait to see what you come up with!

Another Weekend At Hershey...

2007-03-04T16:00:00.001-08:00

Well, it's another weekend at the Milton Hershey School as Relief Houseparents. It's actually been really relaxing here since my in-laws took all three kids home to New Jersey on Friday and are bringing them back today. Our kids love coming to MHS on the weekends, but it sure is alot of work. Thirteen high school boys and three of our own (ages 6, 4, and 2) can make for a very busy weekend.

But "surprisingly", when you take the three youngest children out of the picture, it's a pretty easy gig. My hubby is watching his THIRD movie of the day and is working on some illustrations for a children's book. And I've had the chance to create this blogpage!

I do have to say, this day seems to be going on FOREVER!!! I'm not used to having so much time on my hands. I wish I was at my own house without my kids - I would actually be getting some much needed projects done around the house. Instead I'm creating this crazy blog.

You're Never Gonna Believe This...

2007-03-03T16:54:00.000-08:00

Well, I finally did it. I'm officially a "blogger". Even as I write this, I'm shaking my head in disbelief. In fact, I don't even know if I have anything to say! For those of you who know me, (and have named me "Say Anything") it will be hard to believe that I have nothing to say. Speaking my mind is easy... the written word, well not so much. In the written word, I can't spout off what's going through my head at any given moment - I just don't type that fast.

My hope with starting my own blog page is to keep in touch with our distant friends and family. I'm just terrible at keeping in touch... with three little ones at the house, I just can't seem to get a quiet moment to pick up the phone. And then when the quiet moment comes (at 9pm) I'm just too tired. So, my apologies to everyone I haven't called in a while. And an even bigger apology if you've called, and I haven't called you back. So, until I get it together enough to pick up the phone I'm gonna blog.