Lost And Found

I was just sitting here in the quiet, pondering my emails, when The Little Man walked into the room and announced "Oh, I found her!"   Then he walked out.

Was I lost? And didn't even know it?

Or was I hiding?  Part of some game of Hide & Seek I wasn't even aware I was participating in?

How long was I missing?  I honestly had only been in here about 3 minutes. Before that I was in the another room putting away laundry.

It makes me wonder how many other times I have been lost and had no clue.  Or who else might be wandering about looking for me. 

I'm also not sure if I should be pleased or concerned that I can hide so easily without even trying.  But it's nice to know someone was missing me. Even if I didn't know I was lost.

What Did Tim Ever Do To You?

What is it about Tim Tebow?  People seem to either love him or hate him.  Me? I can't call myself a Tebow fan. I'm certainly not a University of Florida fan. Or a Denver Broncos fan. I don't think he's all that impressive as a quarterback. But he seems like a nice enough guy.  So, it's that whole hating part I can't quite wrap my head around.  I mean seriously people - what did Tim ever do to you personally?

Oh sure - some dislike him because of where he played college ball.  There are some serious Gator Haters out there.  Or maybe some hate him because he and the Broncos defeated their favorite football team.  Maybe a certain last minute pass pushed their team out of the playoffs.  (I get that.  For a long time I carried around a bit of a grudge against Brett Favre for a few years because of a playoff loss the Carolina Panthers faced to him and the Green Bay Packers But I can't say I ever hated Favre over it).  Maybe some think he is a mediocre player at best and doesn't deserve a spot in the NFL.  But I don't think football is really at the root of most of the negative feelings aimed at Tebow.

I think he makes people uncomfortable because he's a Christian.  Not only that - but he is proud of it.  And he refuses to be quiet about it.  He actually speaks about Jesus as if he knows the guy!  And refers to him quite frequently in his day to day football life.  He thanks God for each accomplishment on and off the field.  Publicly!

If Tim stopped to wave at the cameras and say "Hi Mom!" after every touchdown.  If he took time at each press conference to thank his parents for his natural talent (OK - "natural talent" might be a bit much, but you get my point) and mention how his mother encouraged him and taught him to work hard and believe in him self; it might get a little old.  There might be some rolled eyes, and a few whispers behind hands of "Man - Tebow really loves his mother"  But would people be angry about it?  Would it cause such discomfort and anger?  I doubt it.  It's alright to talk about your parents, your team mates, your little league/high school/college/NFL coach - but not your God. 

I don't see him being preachy or judgemental about it. I've never actually heard him condemn anyone for not believing in Jesus, or start preaching at the football fans, players, or reporters that they are going to hell for not accepting Jesus as Savior. (I could be wrong, it's not exactly like I'm following all the Tebow chatter or hanging onto every press conference or interview he does) All I have ever witnessed was him being grateful to the God he believes in for the talent and opportunities he has been given. And how exactly is that hurting anyone? Why does this provoke such anger?

This is just who Tim Tebow is.  He's a football player.  He's a former UofF Gator.  He's a Denver Bronco.  He's a Christian. He believes in God.  He believes in himself.  He believes in hard work.    And he still seems like an alright sort of fellow to me.

To Do - Or To Be?

I'm a champion list maker.  I make all sorts of lists.  Lists of things I need to buy, books I want to read, chores I want the kids to do, things I need to get accomplished, places I need/want to go.  You name it, I have probably made some sort of list for it. 

Lists keep me organized.  They give me focus.  They help keep me on track.  Without my lists there is a distinct possibility I would wander aimlessly from thing to thing without getting much accomplished.  I certainly would make a trip to the store and come home with many items - except the ones I actually went to get in the first place.  (Trust me.  That has actually happened on more than one occasion)

Many of us are that way.  Especially when it comes to the "To Do" list.  How often do we jot down all the things we think we need to get done.  Whether it's things to do for the day, the week, the month, the year.  Some people even have the BIG To Do list (often referred to as The Bucket List). We like looking back over the list of checked off or marked through items and feeling that sense of accomplishment which comes with meeting our goals.

But what about a To BE list?  A list detailing the type of person you want to be.  Showing clear steps you intend to take to become that version of yourself.  Focusing on who you want to be rather than the things you do.  After all - we are all human BEings.  Not human DOings!

So after a little thought, I am starting my To Be list.  I know it will change, grow, and develop over time; as I do.  But here is the first rough version:

*TO BE a wife who shows her husband that she loves, admires, respects, and trusts him every day
*TO BE a mother who speaks words of support, love, and encouragement to her children every day
*TO BE grateful
*TO BE in God's word and in prayer every day
*TO BE a person who takes more time to think before speaking or acting - or reacting
*TO BE more nurturing of my creativity and skills


What about you - what would be on your TO-BE List?

Wordless

I have nothing to say.  Yeh... I know.  I find it shocking also.  I have nothing to say!  Me.  I always have something to say about something.  I can ramble on pretty much endlessly about absolutely nothing at all.  Or about most anything.

But not tonight.

Tonight I find myself staring blankly at the screen.  Not a single thought in my head except that I can't think of a single darn thing to post about.

The longer I stare, the bigger that empty, white box seems to be.  It almost has an accusing look. I imagine what the text box might be thinking.  "Why aren't you filling me up?  How long are you going to make me sit here - wordless?  This is so embarrassing for both of us really.  Either type something or close me already.  This is ridiculous." 

So, I force my fingers to begin to move.  Slowly at first, then quicker as something resembling thoughts begin to form.  Perhaps not exciting, profound, or especially interesting.  But something all the same.  Better than nothing.

Or not.

Maybe it would have been more productive to shut down the screen and just go to bed.

Good night.

To Be, Or Not To Be: Grandma

As soon as people know you are going to have a grandchild - everyone starts asking:  "What is he or she going to call you?"

Some people cringe away from the word "Grandma"  Like having it used in reference to them will somehow magically transform them into some gray haired, stooped over, ancient granny type. 

Whatever...  I don't care who calls me Grandma. It's just a word.  I do have a grandchild, which does make me a grandmother no matter what I am called.

I will confess that I prefer that the Little Guy call me something a little more unique and with a little more personality to it.  Not because I have some deep rooted hatred and/or phobia about the word grandma. Just because I like to spice things up a little.  I don't want to be just another Grandma in the world.

Also, in our family every grandmother has ended up called something different, which helps to differentiate between them. The Man of the House's grandmother is "Grandma".  His mother is "Nana".  My Mom is "Granna" 

I have been liking Oma (German for grandmother).   Honestly, at this point the Little Guy could call me just about anything at all and I wouldn't care!

Head Over Heels

I am completely and totally smitten!! 

My grandson entered the world this morning at 8:30am weighing 10 pounds and 2 ounces!

Mom and baby are both great.  Mom is a champion!  About 23 hours of labor from beginning of induction to birth.  22 minutes of pushing.  She is a rock star!

Evil Genius

My cat is a pure, certifiable evil genius.  At first I just thought he was a spoiled brat.  But he has gone way beyond that status now. 

When he feels I have not scooped out the litter box quickly enough for his very particular liking, or if I find a different litter on sale with coupon that he doesn't care for - he will take to showing his displeasure by evacuating his bowels in the most inconvenient spot he can locate.

Until today I thought his pièce de résistance was substituting the bathtub for a litter box.  After all, it certainly captures one's attention when your morning self hygiene routine is disrupted because you have to scrub out the shower before using it.  But my cat felt he could do even better at showing his anger to me.

Today I found a little prize in the hallway.  Right in front of the door to the closet where all cleaning supplies are kept.  And I quickly realized that thanks to the consistency of this little feline gem, even after getting up what I could with toilet paper and paper towels - there was still going to be just enough left on the carpet to smear and get ground into both the carpeting and the bottom of the door when I try to open the closet.  Yes indeed.  In cleaning this up, I was going to have to make an even bigger mess!!

That darn cat!!  Evil.  Genius.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow... I Love Ya Tomorrow!

Despite threatening to make an appearance since around New Year's, my stubborn grandson still has not arrived.  The Little Prince seems quite determined to stay right where he is - safe and warm inside his Mommy.  On the other hand, Mommy (The Princess) has felt he needs evacuate the premises for a good 2 to 3 weeks now!

Because of his refusal to evacuate his current home , and since he shows no signs of making that move today either - they have scheduled her induction tomorrow morning at 41 weeks and one day.  I am nervous for her.  I am excited for her.  I am very, very eager to meet The Little Prince! 

Say a little prayer for a complication free delivery.  Send some positive thoughts their way.  All will be welcome! 

Unless I get inspired again later today - the next time I blog I will officially be a grandma!

As Lovely As A Tree

I love trees in Winter.  "Naked Trees" I call them.  There is something about the beauty of the form.  Bare of leaves and visible.  It's like lace.  Like architecture.  As much as I love the Autumn (it is still my favorite season), I can't help but look forward to the leaves falling and revealing the natural beauty of the tree's structure which has been hidden beneath them all summer. 

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show. ~Andrew Wyeth

I Got Lazy

I got lazy.

There, I said it.  It's out there now and there's no way to ignore it.  Not that I could before either.  The results of laziness are quite visible really.  Once you look.

I got lazy with my blogging.  Oh, sure - if you look at the numbers, it might look like I've done an admirable job at keeping up with the whole daily posting thing.  But the truth of the matter is that is only because I've had a few days of multiple posts.  Which covers over my lack of posting several days this week like a thin layer of under eye concealer. 

I wish I could tell you that I was so lazy about blogging because I was so terribly busy keeping my house clean.  I wish I could tell you that.  But the pile of laundry sitting in my bedroom floor waiting to be taken down to the washer, the piles of folded laundry in the living room waiting to be put away, the layer of dust in the living room, the dirty dishes in the sink, and the wet towels on the bathroom floor would quickly and eagerly call me a liar if I tried to say it.  Yes, I was lazy with the household duties also. 

So, you may now find yourself thinking that I must have been pre-occupied with some crochet project or another that I wanted to get completed.  Um... no. 

I just somehow managed to let an entire week slip away without getting much accomplished.  I suppose it happens.  (Someone please tell me it happens and make me feel better!)

Beginning To See The Light

Sitting outside during lunch.  Watching the sky, filled with dark gray clouds rolling past.  Thinking to myself how even the most gloomy of days can be beautiful if you only take the time to stop, look, and enjoy.  Suddenly, a break in the cloud cover.  A ray of sunlight warms my face.  Causing me to smile.

(note: I wrote this yesterday during my lunch break and tried to send it via my cell phone, but it wouldn't post)

Beginning to Feel Poetic

Something just my own,

To make me someone special,

Individual.

So Tired I Can't Sleep

I am so, so, very tired. 

I didn't sleep well last night.  I couldn't manage to fall asleep until sometime around 1:00 am.

I woke up about 3:30 - wide awake.  I think I fell back to sleep around 4:00.

My alarm goes off at 5:00 am to wake me up for the day.

It was a very busy day at work today.  I felt like I went through the entire day in a fog.  Like I was in slow motion, but everyone and everything around me was moving at normal speed.

I'm afraid at this point, I may be too tired to sleep.  Have you ever been that tired?  Just so exhausted that even falling asleep feels like too much of an effort? 

I think there may be a glass of wine, followed by a cup of Sleepytime tea in my very near future.

Beginning to Feel Better

After I posted about losing The Girls last night, the neighbor that owns the dog came over to talk to The Man of the House.  He apologized several times.  He used to have chickens himself, so he understood how it feels to lose one or more. 

He paid us for the lost birds.  And is going to put in invisible fencing to keep his dog in the yard.  He even said if we wanted to try to call him when we were going to let them out to free roam for a while he will put her up in the house; because he knows once a dog has had the sport of getting a chicken it will keep coming back for more.  I suppose it was the best possible ending to a difficult situation. 

The Man of the House also spoke with our "chicken supplier" today, and we are going to be able to get 3 more birds of the same age at a reasonable cost.  I hope they are as fun to watch and lay as well as the ones we lost.

The last four eggs produced by the girls.

Today Was NOT A Good Day

We lost three of The Girls today.

Due to legal reasons, I can not say the neighbor's dog killed them, because I did not actually see her kill any chickens.  What I can tell you is this:

*At about 2:15 I gathered eggs and let The Girls out to free-roam for the afternoon.  I was excited because there were four eggs today.

*Around 3:45 I heard one of The Girls raising a fuss, so went out to check on them.  At that point I found one dead on the edge of the yard.  Next to the wooded lot between our house and the neighbor's house.  I also heard neighbor's dog running through the woods back toward her house.

*I walked up to the road, where I found a large quantity of white feathers along the edge of the wooded lot.

*Two of my chickens were laying - dead - in their yard.

*Two of my Dominiques were hiding in the bushes by the house terrified.  It took me, The Princess, and The Little Man a good while to get them back in the coop.  The remaining Americauna must have found herself a very good hidey hole.  I was convinced she was dead also, but she came home sometime later.

*While trying to get the two chickens I could find at the time into the coop.  I witnessed neighbor's dog chasing one of The Girls in my yard.

I am so sad.  And angry.  I did call Animal Enforcement.  They can't do anything legally because there were no witnesses to how the chickens were killed. 

And (in the immortal words of Forrest Gump) that's all I have to say about that.

R.I.P - Svetlana and Medusa.  They were my two best layers and they will be missed.  I'm still not sure if the deceased Dominique is Miss Muffett or Amelia.

Happy Birthday Friend!

I'm not going to say her name.  She knows who she is.

I'm not going to tell her age.  She knows that too.

We met years ago - by chance or fate - in an online chat.  No, I am also not going to tell you how many years ago.  Not relevant.  Let's just say, we were both a little younger than we are now.  But that one particular day I decided to check out that one particular chat was the start of a wonderful friendship.

Separated by miles and miles, we have only met face to face a few times.  Over the years we have drifted apart for periods of time.  But she was always tucked into the back of my heart.  And thanks to the miracle that is modern technology, we managed to find each other again.

She is funny.  She makes me laugh.  She makes me think.  She's wild.  She's a little bit crazy.  I like that about her.

But the best part of her is that she's REAL.  When you meet her - what you see is what you get.  She doesn't pretend to be anything she isn't.  She is who she is.  Period.  She is true and genuine.  She isn't going to tell you what she thinks you want to hear.  She tells it like she sees it.  And I love that about her.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRIEND!



The Best of Tim McGraw

I giggled as I typed that title.  I can feel some of my country-music-hating friends cringing already.  And I know a few may not even bother to read this particular blog post.  I also know that some of my country-loving-friends may find themselves disappointed in what is about to follow. 

Let me start at the beginning...

It all started to unravel when The Man of the House and I were at Wally-world the other night.  As you go in there are always displays for movies, video games, and albums soon to be released.  This week there was a display for Tim McGraw's newest album. 

What caught the eye of The Man of the House was a certain quote on the display.  You know how albums, books, etc will often have a little blurb from a critic or another celebrity about the quality of the item in question.  This time the quote was :

"My best album ever!" - Tim McGraw

Wow.  Not best album yet.  Ever. 

This somehow quickly spiralled into a discussion of how one follows that declaration for subsequent albums.  What if the next release is, in fact, better than this one?  Or, how could it possibly be if this is the best EVER?  We came up with the following suggestions...

If the following album is actually even better:
"I was wrong"

"Even better than the best album ever"

"No, really.  This is the best album ever.  I mean it this time"

Of course, those weren't as fun to come up with.  So we spent more time on quotes for the lesser album which will follow the "best album ever":

"Not as good as the last one"

"Damn..."

"I should have saved some of the other songs for this album"

"At least I'm still married to Faith Hill"

"It's an album"

Which should probably be accompanied with a hard learned lesson on critiquing your own work.  ; D

Like A School Girl

I love it when The Man of the House flirts with me. 

When he starts in with the flirting, it doesn't matter if he's coming on smooth and sexy or if it's the cheesiest line I've ever heard -  It still makes me feel all flushed and flustered.  He makes my heart beat faster.  He makes me want to blush.  It makes me feel giggly and giddy like a school girl.  And I love it!

When he flirts with me, it makes me feel attractive and desired.  It lets me know that even after 20 years together, 2 kids, a few extra pounds, and whatever else - he still finds me cute/funny/sexy enough.

(And plus, I like feeling like a school girl)

Sneaky!

Earlier this week I received an envelope in the mail which left me baffled.  It was addressed to me, but there was a window just below the tiny return address which showed my name and said "RESULTS".  Just like that.  In big capital letters.

Now, knowing I have had no sort of tests run recently, I found myself wondering what sort of trickery this was. 

A credit card offer

A new tactic to bamboozle me into opening the envelope to check out the contents, rather than just tossing it straight away.  And I fell right into their evil plot by doing just that!  They won that round.  But in the end they still lost, as the envelope and the offer it contained went into the trashcan.

Don't Call Me "Grace"

I've never been exactly coordinated.  I'm the gal who can trip on nothing.  No, not my own feet - Nothing!  I have been known to be so caught up in my own thoughts, or a conversation, or looking at something that I have walked right smack into a wall.  I stub my toes more times in a month than I care to count.

Today, while leaving to get the Little Man off to school, I fell down the stairs.

This isn't exactly a new thing for me.  I often trip up the stairs.  Or slip down a stair or two.  Once I even fell down the concrete front entrance steps at work.  In front of several people.  It wasn't a slip, or a slide, or a trip.  That time it was a full on head-over-heels tumble.  Resulting with me ending up sprawled on the ground at the bottom of those steps with a scraped up leg, a bruised elbow, and some hurt pride.  That time was definitely worse than this morning.

I was preparing to dash out the door with coffee in hand, when I slipped.  Or something.  I'm not very clear on how this fall started.  I just know I took a few steps and next thing I knew I realized I was pitching forward.  Two very clear thoughts went through my head in about a half second flat. 

1) Grab the railing!!
2) Don't spill the coffee!!

I think I grabbed the rail at some point, but my hand slid right off and I ended up lying sideways on the stairs in a rather crooked position.  With some serious pain shooting through my right hip and thigh and all up and down the right arm.  I had to take a minute to sit on the stairs and compose myself.  While the pain subsided to a dull ache.  All the while reassuring The Little Man that I was fine.

I did manage not to spill the coffee.  Just splashed a little on my left hand.  So, there's the bright side of the whole incident.

One-Minute Wednesday: JEWELRY

I have a very few valued pieces of jewelry.  Most notable and obvious is my wedding set.  We were young.  The Man of the House was in school and working.  Yet he still managed to purchase a beautiful set for me.  It's not a huge flashy diamond, but I love it.  It is my most treasured material possession.

in response to a prompt from The One-Minute Writer

You're WHERE????

I'm talking on the phone with The Little Man this afternoon while I am still at work and he is in the care of The Princess. 

It's the usual sort of conversation....

Me: How was school?
Him: Ok

Me: Did you learn anything new and interesting?
Him: No

Me:  Did you have a good day?
Him:  I guess so

(It goes on like this for a while.  I won't bore you with all the details.)

Me: What are you doing now?
Him: Nothing. I'm on the toilet.

Me: I'm sorry?  What?  You're where?  (for, surely, I must have misunderstood what he said - right?)
Him: I'm on the toilet.  I'm hanging up now.
(End Call)

As I mentioned yesterday - I will NEVER understand the brain of the 13 year old male!!

It's A Mystery To Me

I do not understand the brain of a 13 year old boy.  It makes absolutely no sense to me at all.  That thought process is irrational, illogical, sometimes lazy, and sometimes gross. I will never understand how the 13 year old boy brain works. 

There are times it even makes it difficult to like the boy carrying around that mystery brain very much.  I know you're not supposed to say that.  As a mother - we are supposed to love our children unconditionally.  And I do.  I love The Little Man.  Some days I just don't like the things he does very much.

I find myself feeling frustrated, and confused.  Baffled and impatient.  I find myself saying "WHAT were you thinking?" far more times than I ever imagined possible.  To which the response is usually either a blank, deer in the headlights look.  Or a dumb-founded "I don't know" or "Nothing".  Which only succeeds in making the frustration, confusion, bafflement, and impatience worse.

In our latest episode - we find The Little Man coming home from school and deciding he needs not one, but Two egg sandwiches.  (Why two?  Why not one?  Another great mystery of the 13 year old male universe.  The answer to this one lies somewhere in the bottomless pit of the 13 year old male stomach - and THAT is enough of a topic for an entire other blog post)  He chose to cook up these particular eggs quickly in the microwave.  This I discovered when I heard the loud popping sound coming from the microwave.  But somehow my cries to "get the eggs out of the microwave and see if it needs cleaned out" were somehow heard by the 13 year old male as "take the eggs out of the microwave and throw them in the trash, completely wasting good food!" 

I find myself completely at a loss.  No idea what is going on in there, or how to deal with it.

Testing my ability to post to my blog from my phone. Forgive the interruption.

Little Cup Of Deliciousness

Oh - that creamy, chocolaty, deliciousness...

Thank goodness for sugar free Jello pudding cups!  Only 60 calories and 2 Weight Watchers points!  The perfect fix for a sudden chocolate craving.  It's like a little bit of happiness in a little plastic cup.

Once again - the chocolate beastie has been appeased and put to rest.

Now I find myself wondering...

What sort of fruits would make this treat even more blissful.  I'm imagining banana slices.  Or strawberries.  Or clementine segments.  Using the pudding as a sort of dip. 

 

My Head In the (Funnel) Clouds

For the second night in a row I have dreamed of tornadoes.

The first night I was in some sort of office setting, and looked out the window to see 3 tornadoes heading toward the building where I was.  Which set me running to find a safe place at the center of the building to shelter.  As I sat on the floor in my dream with my hands over my head, I could see things flying around outside the building.  Swirling around us.  But I don't recall anyone being hurt or the building I was in being damaged by the storm

Last night, I was in some sort of wilderness town setting.  With a large "general store" type structure in the center.  As the storm started and the winds rose, everyone rushed into the cellar of this store to hide.  And I recall telling someone in this dream how it was strange to actually be in a tornado because I had just dreamed of tornadoes the night before - and proceeded to tell them about the first dream!

For someone recently commenting on this very blog about how she doesn't seem to remember much of her dreams anymore - the fact that I have dreamed of tornadoes two nights in a row AND remembered so much of the details seems somehow significant.

Beginning to Wonder

This month I am participating in the January NaBloPoMo daily blogging challenge.  Seems easy enough.  Just commit to posting every day for a full month.  Simple, right?  Not so much. Today is the second day in a row I have realized in the evening that I still have a blog post to complete.  Which sends me rushing to the computer, frantically searching my brain for something to write about.

I always feel like I have a lot to say.  But now that I have made the choice to post daily for the month of January - I find myself at a loss for words.  And wondering if I will be able to manage a post every day of the month.  Suddenly January seems like a very long month.  Even looking at the daily writing prompt provided by NaBloPoMo doesn't seem to get the thought process flowing along.

As a result, I apologize for much of the seemingly pointless, endless rambling you may find yourself reading over the coming days and weeks.  Hopefully there will be at least a few gems in there somewhere.

Beginning to Get Frustrated

You have got to be kidding me.  Seriously... you. have. got. to. be. freaking. kidding. me. 

It's back.  The stupid, irritating rash around my eyes is BACK!!

And it's starting to tick me off.

When the itching and redness started back up a couple of days ago I thought maybe it was the french fries cooked in peanut oil I had consumed without thinking.  But today instead of getting better - it's even more itchy and even redder.  And I have no clue what could have contributed to it this time around.

All I know is that I have had just about enough!

One-Minute Wednesday: BOOK

I have loved reading as far back as I can remember.  I still remember the first book I read on my own "The Three Little Pigs".  Back when straw was such a difficult word!  So many books come to mind when I think of reading as a child.  The Nancy Drew series, Little House on the Prairie (all of them), and Charlotte's Web.  But perhaps the one I remember most is "Island of the Blue Dolphins" about native girl living on a northern Pacific Island who is left behind when her family leaves the island and how she manages to fend for herself all alone.

**Written in response to a writing prompt from: The One-Minute Writer**

Not Off To A Good Beginning

I'm afraid this makes it official.  I'm beginning to lose it.  The ol' brain cells are not firing off as well as they used to.  I am not the sharpest tool in the shed.  The gerbil has fallen off the wheel.  What has brought me to this realization you ask?  Oh, it's a doozy.  Ready for this one? 

I forgot to send The Little Man to school yesterday.

Yes, you read that correctly.  It's not a typo.  Or a joke.  You are not delusional.  I simply did not send my son to school on a regularly scheduled school day.

Now, to my defense - it was the first day back after Christmas break.  The Man of the House and I both had the day off for the New Year holiday.  And for whatever reason I really was convinced that there was no school also.

Until I drove past the local elementary school yesterday afternoon and noticed all the cars in the parking lot.  And the sign out front which read "Jan 2 - Welcome back"  I said a couple of choice words as I realized exactly what I had done.  And sure enough, last night we got the automated "your child was absent from school today" phone call.  Yikes...

I'm sure The Little Man would argue with my feeling that this does not get the new year off to a glowing start.  He's likely on the verge of giddy to have been given an extra day of Christmas break.  (Which has grown into two extra days now thanks to school being canceled today due to light snow fall and sub-zero wind chills)

Now I find myself trying to fashion the least embarrassing excuse note possible to send in with him.  I'm not sure "Please excuse my son from school on Monday.  I did not realize classes were being held that day" is the best way to go.  Perhaps a more vague "My son was absent from school on Monday because we were still on vacation" is a better way to go?

Anxiously Awaited Beginnings

New Year's Day 2012 was spent waiting.  And waiting.  And waiting some more.  We are eagerly awaiting the birth of our first grandchild.  And he should be arriving sooner, rather than later. 

New Year's Day The Princess was having mild - but regular - contractions all afternoon.  It's still very early in her labor process, so we haven't rushed off to the hospital yet.  She's just in a "wait and see' pattern until they get stronger, or something else changes.

As a result, the new year began with a waiting game.  And the wait continues...

Beginnings

Happy New Year 2012!  January 1 is always a time for new beginnings.  Maybe this year more than usual.  In 2012, January 1 is...

A new year.

A new month.

A new week.

I've always loved beginnings.  Fresh starts.  Like...

The first day of school. 

A fresh new box of crayons (which, btw, is still a favorite thing of mine - even though I am no longer a school girl). 

That first night's rest on clean or new sheets. 

New pens. 

New socks - especially comfy, fuzzy ones.

Being the first person to squeeze on a new tube of toothpaste. 

Beginnings - big or small - can be refreshing and exciting.  So.. here's to the beginning of 2012.  And all the fresh, new beginnings it holds in store for us all!