Nice, Schmice

This whole "be nice" thing is not as easy as it sounds.

Well, those of you who share my snark problem probably already knew that little nugget.

Last night required stores of self-control to listen, not speak, let Darling talk, not speak, not interrupt, and let Darling take 20 minutes his time getting to his point to explain his thoughts.

It would seem that the request to "be nice" has illuminated my extraordinary lack of patience.

>head desk<

It also occurs to me that the Lord asked me to "be kind," yet I keep saying "be nice."  Hmmm... time to do some navel-gazing on the differences between the two.

Thoughts?

~ G

But I Do Not Want to Be Nice

So it is.  My Lenten task is to "be nice."

Truth be told, when the Lord laid that on my heart last night, it was in relation to Darling.

I need to find a way to be nice.

It is not easy.

Darling works very hard these days.  Oftentimes the kids do not see him for several days at time because he leaves for work so early and returns so late.  He is mentally preoccupied and I have had to repeat the same information several times - only to discover several days later that he has no recollection of our multiple conversations on said topic.

I have started taking it personally.

It makes me feel insignificant.

It makes me feel as if I do not matter to him.

That is not a good place to be.

I have been reading "Power of a Praying Wife" again and that first chapter always slaps me in the face.  The deal is, though, that my frustration with Darling has begun to feed a bitterness in me.

That is bad.  "Bitter" is bad.  I do not want to be bitter.

The goal for the Lenten season is "be nice."  Surely over the next few weeks, the Lord will illuminate "be nice" in multiple ways.

I should be excited about the journey.  I am not.

I should be thankful that the Lord sees a willing heart in me.  I am not.

Sometimes I do not want to be the eager student, eager to learn, eager to research, eager to see Him in everything.  Sometimes I want to just feed the bitterness and act ugly.

Evidently, that is exactly His point... well, I am guessing on that one.

I will let you know if I am spectacularly wrong or humbly correct.

~ G

How (Not) to Photograph Your Wife

Here we have three easy tips on how to photograph your wife.  It does not matter if you declare you took photography in school and are therefore most excellent at taking good pictures.  This handy, three-point list is for you:

1. Angle the camera up toward her.  This is the absolute best way to highlight her multiple chins and chipmunk cheeks.  After all, every woman wants her face to look as if she's been on a salty snack/alcohol-infused bender.

2. If taking a shot of her legs (let us pretend, for instance, that she bought new jeans and wants to see how they really look - because mirrors lie - and you have taken the Man Party Line by saying "you look great" and now she wants a picture, you know, just as a "for instance"), be sure to get overly close to her and then angle the camera down at her in a 45-degree angle.  This ensures her legs will look as if they have been plucked off your daughter's chubby, squat-legged baby doll and smooshed onto your wife's now awkwardly long torso.  

3. Pay no attention to lighting.  Overhead, florescent lighting illuminates your photographs with that charming dressing room feeling. We all know how much women love trying on jeans and swim suits, so taking the picture with harsh, overhead lighting will forever encapsulate the horrendous shadows under her eyes and make her look like fleshy death warmed over.

Ahem.

No need to go into the reasons why I compiled this list.  Let us just say Darling and I have agreed he is no longer allowed/willing to take pictures of me.  Evidence not necessary.

~ G

Trolling for Ideas...

It would seem Darling and I have been gifted three nights alone as an anniversary gift.  Yippee!

We have a summer anniversary, so we have time to think and plan...

and save.

But.

I'm at a loss.  Truly, I think staying home in our own house, our own bed, not sharing a wall with anyone, and doing a staycation would be lovely.

We've never, ever, ever, had a night alone in our home.  Heck, we've never, ever, ever had a night away from the kids.

I almost don't even know what to do with myself.

Almost.

We want a few days of good food, good booze, no kids, no responsibilities, not a lot of nickel-and-diming in the way of tips, a quiet room, places to wander, spots around to feel secluded and not surrounded by crushing crowds, and no need to get in the car and drive anywhere.

Does such a place exist... that isn't a Caribbean all-inclusive we can't afford right now?

Help!  I'm trolling for ideas on getaway spots.

Thoughts?

Post 'em here.  Ask your friends.  Pass it around.  Share your ideas.  Links are welcome!

~ G

Dairy-Free?

My Darling has decided to remove dairy from his diet to see if it's the culprit for some health issues.

No dairy for him until Christmas.

Suddenly, I have forgotten how to cook.

It's like "no-dairy" has translated in my head as "no-cooking."

I need help.

Would you mind posting your favorite non-dairy recipes and/or links?  I would appreciate it.

~ G

A Plan

Our conversation at dinner last night. (Keep in mind that Middle One is in 1st grade and Big Kid is in 3rd) :

Me: What was the best part of your day?
Middle One: Recess.  I ran around chasing girls. (laughs)
Darling: What were you going to do when you caught one?
Middle One: I don't know.
Big Kid: Well, you need to know what you're doing.
Darling: That's right, you need to have a plan. (winks at me)

~ G

My Anger Issues

Me, calmly: Would you mind feeding the kids so I can finish this?

Darling: Okay.

...10 minutes later...

Me, noticing the kids are not being fed while Darling is watching TV: Would you please feed the kids while I finish this?  It has to get done.

Darling: Got it.

...15 minutes later...

Me, filthy from the job I'm working on, seeing the kids aren't getting fed: Honey, would you please feed the kids?  I can't leave this right now.

Darling: What? I don't know what they want to eat.

Me: How about grilled cheese or cereal or sandwiches?  Ask them.

Darling: I don't know what they want to eat.  What do they want to eat?  When will you be done?  Why did you even start this now when you knew they'd be hungry?

Me: I'm doing this because you asked me to get it done today.  You told me it needed to get done today and because we're trick-or-treating later, it has to get done now.  Please feed the kids.  Offer them cereal or grilled cheese or PB&J.  Please feed them.  Get them started and they can help make whatever they choose. They're hungry and starting to melt down.

Darling: What do they want to eat?  I don't know what they want to eat.

Me:  SERIOUSLY?  ASK THEM!  Give them a couple options and ASK THEM.  Feed the kids, PLEASE!

Darling: You really have anger issues.



Yeah.  I obviously have serious anger issues.

~ G

Loving Attention

Darling just got home.  Late.

The boys have been waiting for him because they practice spelling words together.  Darling just walked in the door and Middle One immediately started talking about what he's wearing for Red Ribbon Week tomorrow.

Darling stood there and looked at him and gave him such loving attention that it took my breath away.

I love that man.  I love how he loves our kids.  I love that even after a long day at work, he can come in the door and even before dropping his briefcase, he can stand and listen to our son with rapt attention.

How does he do that?

~ G

RED - Most Excellent

Darling and I had an unexpected date night last weekend.  It was unexpected because we hadn't planned it, but were able to secure a sitter mere hours before heading out on the town.  Well, "out on the town" is a bit of an exaggeration for our dates.  Really, we're just happy to be out of the house and to have the chance to hold hands.  Ah, how lovely to hold a hand that doesn't feel slightly sticky or crunchy... where do the kids get the grime on their hands?

Last night we saw RED.  Just in case you haven't see the trailer, here it is:




We loved it!  It's a fast-paced, smart, treasure-trove of all the actors we've enjoyed watching for the past twenty years in a witty format.  It was a blast!

What made our experience so much fun was exactly the same thing that made Gran Torino so fun.  We saw it in a theater packed with grown-ups.  There were no kids in the theater.  I'm in my late 30's and was probably one of the youngest people in the theater.  We all laughed at the same references and we laughed at the same jokes.  The same things made us snort.  That made it fun!  It's a movie for grown-ups.  We've all seen Die Hard.  We all saw it in the theater... when it was new.  We know these actors and have a history with them.  Seeing them in the same movie, some of them (like Malkovich) vamping on their reputations and others (like Mirren) thumbing their noses at their reputations made it positively enjoyable.

Darling and I saw the movie first, then tried out a new Asian fusion restaurant.  Eh, I'm not a fan of the "fusion."  Choose what you do and do it well, stop trying to be all things to all people.  It was acceptable food, with delightfully charming company.

We got to connect, we got to laugh, we got to talk uninterrupted, we got to be grown-ups.  Most excellent.

~ G

Eh, One of Those Days

Ever have one of those days when every interaction feels somewhat unsatisfactory?  That would be my day.  Every conversation, every interaction, every little thing has somehow felt unsatisfactory or somewhat "off," and, maybe, possibly... annoying.  Just a little.

Chances are good that the feeling is connected to this being my "Fancy Lady Time."  But, as we've discussed in other posts, we are living in an era when personal responsibility is out of vogue.  Today, I'll just be in fashion.

Eh, it's just one of those days.

And may the good Lord protect Darling should he attribute my foul mood to FLT...

~ G

I Love This Bed

I do.  I know it isn't fancy.  I know it's not fabulously chic.  But.  I love it.  It's the Hemnes bed from IKEA. I like the black/brown that goes with the bedding we have and want to keep.  I like the simple lines.  I like that there's enough architectural interest that it isn't boring, yet is simple enough it will work with my changing tastes over the years.  I like that it's strong, but won't dominate the space.  We currently have a home with high ceilings and lots of square footage in the master.  If we move to a smaller house with lower ceilings and a smaller master, I don't want my bed to overpower the room.  I like that we can adjust the mattress to be higher and above the side rails or lower and level with the side rails.  I think we can even choose a middle option.  It just works for me.

And, when we buy it... well, you need some back story on why this bed is such a big deal.

Here's the backstory: Darling and I have been married for over a decade.  We do not have a bed.  Well, we have a bed, but not a frame other than the $25 metal frame that holds the mattress set off the floor.  We don't have a headboard.  We don't have a foot board.  Why?

Significant lack of agreement on bedroom furniture.

For years, even before we married, we looked at furniture.  Couldn't agree.  So, rather than spending money on something one of us didn't like, we opted to not spend the money.

Then, last month we got a sitter for the kidlets and made the long trek to IKEA.  I love IKEA.  I don't know why.  But I do.  It makes me deliriously, ridiculously happy.  It makes me Target-happy.  I know.  Huge, right?  I walk in the store and have a nerve-tingling happy feeling.  Maybe I'm channeling my ancestors?  I don't know.

Darling and I had our fancy dinner of Swedish meatballs and shared a perfectly decadent slice of Overload Chocolate Cake.  We then wandered the store, holding hands.  Cute, I know.  We wandered the store, found ourselves in the bed area, and decided to look at beds.  I had zero expectations and figured we'd move on to whatever it was that brought us to the store in the first place rather quickly.  I saw the bed from across the room and decided to not even mention it, because I was sure Darling wouldn't like it.

To my humility at not being able to read his mind or know everything about him, AMEN, actually, he led me to that bed and declared he wanted it.  Happy, happy, joy, joy!

Money's a little tight right now with other obligations, so the plan is to save our pennies and buy it for ourselves as a Christmas present.

I'm so excited about getting a bed we both want that I can hardly stand myself.

It only took just over a decade to agree.

~ G

Home Church, Pt.2

It's official.  I like Home Church.  I like it better than I ever thought possible.

When I was pregnant with Middle One, we visited with a family that home churched with several other families.  It seemed so... weird to me.  How could you church at home?  How could you not have an organist or a congregation or potlucks?  How could you not have a dozen committees wanting your time?

The answer is: rather easily.

I think I love this.

Here's what we do:

Right after breakfast, while I'm cleaning the kitchen, Darling sits down at the piano in the living room and starts playing from the hymnal.  The kids are playing or doing whatever around the house, but they can hear the music.  Darling usually plays a couple songs he likes, but also works in the traditional doxology for me.  He also, God bless that man, plays my favorite song.  I cannot sing this song without crying and someday, when I die, I want it sung at my funeral.  "Here I Am" gives words and music to what's in my heart.  Here's a You Tube video I found for you.  I chose it because it has the lyrics written out.  Darling plays it a little faster (I prefer it a tad faster than in this video), but it gets the family in the worship mood.




After music, we come together and pray.  Then Darling leads us in a reading from one of the kids' Bibles we found on our date night.  We watch the video for the lesson we're learning, then we sing the songs after the video teaching.  It's kind of neat.  I like that it's concise without dumbing down the Bible stories.

What I enjoy the most about home churching is that we have started pulling a Scripture from the lesson to learn and discuss for the week.  We write it on a dry erase board we have in the kitchen and every night at dinner, we make a point of reading and discussing it.  I don't know that the kids are actually memorizing it.  I also don't know that the kids are even thinking deeply about it.

What I do know is that for the first time, we're focusing on Scripture in our home.  Even if the kids aren't remembering the verses verbatim, we are laying the tracks in their hearts.

I wasn't sure how we'd settle into home church.  Some Sundays are better than others.  But, on the whole, right now, it's working.  We may head back to church some day, but that day isn't in the immediate future.

~ G

I Love that Man

Okay, yesterday I posted about having a heavy heart.  Darling and I talked and, once again, I was reminded why I love that man.  He took my panicky, close-to-hyperventilating self and spoke calmly, rationally, and offered up some solid ideas.  I love that he's utterly dedicated to me and our family.  I love that when I'm worrying myself into a purple snit, he is calm and rational and more than willing to carry me.  Make no mistake, sometimes we trade those roles.  I'm glad he's my husband.  I love that man.

~ G

I Should Know By Now

...to hand out popsicles OUTSIDE and not in the kitchen.  We bought $1 popsicle forms at Target this weekend and made our own orange juice pops.  Today the kids wanted some.  Like, duh.

In a moment of sheer stupidity optimism, I handed them their popsicles - from the sink.  It's now possible to follow a sticky, polka-dotted trail from the kitchen sink (where I defrosted the forms enough to remove said popsicles) to Little One's perch at the table this snack time - which happens to be, um, Darling's chair.  There's an amoeba-shaped orange patch by the island where Middle One stood and a series of little drips, courtesy of Big Kid.

Sigh.  You'd think I was a rookie.  ;-)  Time to go Shark the kitchen.

~ G

Heavy Heart

My heart feels heavy.  As Big Kid used to say, "I have sadness."  I have sadness.  And I have stress.  Without going into huge details, I will simply say that Darling and I are out of agreement about his career strategy.

Yes, it's his career, but something we SAHMs don't really talk about is how being a SAHM puts enormous trust in your husband's ability to provide for the family.  It takes confidence and faith to leave your career, stay home to raise the kids, and allow your husband to be the sole breadwinner.

Darling and I are a team in raising our family.  He's providing for our family financially while I'm providing care for our children and family.  He trusts that I'm caring for our children in a way that will prosper our family emotionally and spiritually and I trust that he will maneuver in his career in a way that will prosper our family materially.  Both roles are vital for our family to prosper.

Sometimes I feel as if I am at the mercy of his career decisions.  Sometimes I can see why some women wouldn't want to give up their personal financial security (via their career), to stay home and raise the family's children.  I can see it.  I can see how sacrificing a career on the family altar might seem like too large a sacrifice.  I can see it today because today I'm feeling utterly vulnerable.

Basically, I need to remember that Darling is my mate, my life partner, that we're in this together, and if we're both honest about our wants and needs, we'll come to an agreement.  Trust is way harder than it sounds.  So is marriage.  Just sayin'.

~ G

Tips and Tricks for Domestic Sanity - Cabinets, Pt. 2

Here's how I was able to keep some semblance of normalcy while on bed rest with Little One.  Because I wrote out the boys' schedule, what they would eat, when they napped and played and all the little details about their lives, I could relax a little and let my mom take over.  When my neighbor had time and could come over and help, all she had to do was come in, look at the clock, then open my cabinet door to see what the kids were doing next.  Darling didn't have to ask how I did the laundry or where we kept the extra detergent.

If you are on bed rest or if you have a very helpful MIL or a mom who wants to help with your little ones or if you have the opportunity to leave for the weekend while your husband keeps the kids, I strongly encourage you to write out what someone would need to know to do your job as a SAHM.

The boys' daily schedule, with recipes above.  This list is still up for two reasons: One, it helps me when my brain fails and I need to remember what on earth we do after lunch.  Two, I'm a sentimental fool and can't bear to take it down until I know how I want to store/preserve it.  

"If boys are busy and happy and you need a diversion..."  This is my "how to help me around the house" list.

All the emergency info.

~ G

Tips and Tricks for Domestic Sanity - Cabinets Pt. 1

I have a secret.  I post my two favorite baking recipes inside my kitchen cabinets.  Awhile ago, Darling said, "you're amazing, who just decides to make biscuits for dinner and 15 minutes later there are hot, buttery biscuits on the table?"  Sigh - now you know why I call him "Darling."  How could I not?

I digress.

The secret to my success with getting biscuits on the table is several years ago I wrote out the recipe (and it's doubled and tripled self) on a piece of paper and stuck it on the inside of cabinet door.  Now, when I want biscuits, I open the cabinet to the glasses and voila, there it is.  I did the same with my tweaked pancake recipe.  The base recipe is on the inside of the cabinet and I adjust the flour/grains every time I make it, based on what I have available.

So there.  My secret's out.  Use it for your own good.  Recipes you love that make your family happy should go where you can find them easily.  And who cares what the inside of your cabinets looks like?  If anyone knows you well enough to come into your home and look for her own glass, she should know you well enough to not care about your "notes to self."

The evidence:

Date Night Rules

Despite wanting to cancel the sitter and stay home to nurse a headache/go to bed early, we went on our date.  Date night makes all the difference in the world.  Darling and I had been snarling and snapping at each other most of the week day.  15 minutes into date night, the tension of the past few weeks fell away and we were holding hands and laughing again.  There is much to be said for getting a sitter and getting away to just be a couple for a few hours.  After all, our family started with the two of us and if the two of us aren't on the same page and working as a team, we run the risk of losing touch.  It never fails to amaze me how just a couple of hours alone with Darling reminds me why I love him so much, why I chose to spend my life with him, and why he's my best friend.

So the next time I say I'm too tired for date night, someone smack me.  ;-)

~ G