Can NOT Wait For Monday

Those who know me well know that I do not like Monday's at all.  Not. At. All.

Those who know me really well know I do not like Sunday's much either.  Not much at all.

But this week?

I can not wait for Monday.

Saturday was our last football game.  S2 stormed onto the field, played the game and lost.

It was tough.

It was also as windy as could be.  We have battled rain, enjoyed sunshine, had our eyeballs frozen and everything in between.  But now it is over.

That won't seem real until I am not driving to school every evening for practice.

I couldn't wait for Saturday night.  I had dinner on the grill all planned.  A movie to curl up with my honey over.  I could see popcorn in my near future.  A "hooray! we can slow down now that football is over" night if ever there was one.  I had been looking forward to this night for about eight weeks or so.

As it was, my husband made plans without consulting me.  Our good friends we haven't gotten together with in forever and ever called to see if we wanted to see a movie their church was playing. A movie we have already watched called Monumental. It's a great movie, I was happy to watch it again, just not THAT night, not THAT far from my snug little farmhouse.  Jake told me we had not watched the movie before until I reiterated to him the entire movie, what we were doing before we went to the movie, where we watched the movie at (our church) and mentioned the fact that S4 had been covered in dirt and barefoot that night we watched Monumental at our church during the summer.

He could hardly remember this and so he had made the plans and didn't want to back out of them.

And I, being the mature person I am, did something out of character.  Something low.  I looked at my husband and said to him, "How is it I married you?  I would be happily snug at home tonight as my introvert self but oh no, I had to marry YOU, Mr. Social!!!"

He gave me a loud kiss.  "I'm good for you."

He is.

But not on this day.

We hurried through dinner.  I suffered the pain that MSU lost their game agains U of M and S2 cheered - how as a mother have a raised a son who cannot cheer the great MSU team?  It's like a mom failure or something - and went to the unfamiliar church to watch a movie my husband than remembered and then joined them for ice cream.

We arrived home exhausted and still my husband needed to give the boys haircuts.

I curled up into bed and fell asleep.  Oh, sleep, how I miss you!

Sunday I awoke to the smell of coffee.  Fresh brewed coffee is such a wonderful smell when you didn't brew it yourself.  My husband had picked up these amazing cinnamon rolls at Weicks the day before and I could hear him opening the package and warming up a roll.

I smiled in complete blissful love.  My darling husband was making me breakfast in bed.

How was I ever so blessed to marry such a wonderful guy?

I didn't want to ruin the surprise so I snuggled in bed and closed my eyes when I heard him headed my way.  He entered the bedroom, that love of my life.  It was so difficult to act asleep when all I wanted to do was grin or throw my arms around him and tell him how wonderful he is.  But if I did either of those things I would startle him and he would spill my coffee and we cannot spill coffee.

My husband walked around the bed and...grabbed his phone.

Grabbed his phone and walked away to the dining room where I heard the fork hit the plate of his warmed up cinnamon roll.

I figured he was just being sweet and didn't want to wake me up, just let me sleep in.  I mean, I didn't even know I wanted breakfast in bed until I was apparently not getting any.  I couldn't resist texting him though.  "You would rather spend your morning with youtube than with me?"

He ended up bringing me coffee to bed.

When we got up all we did was run.  We ran to church where we rushed out as soon as our pastor said "You are dismissed."  We drove like the wind to arrive home and quickly grab some clothes to change into that somehow we forgot as we ran back out the door.  Time home?  Five minutes.

We pushed a little past the speed limit to arrive at my husband's mom's home where we had one hour to eat dinner and then make ourselves look great because we were getting family photos taken.  We have never ever had family photos taken and the photographer was great and cheery so we really can't wait to see how the photos turned out.

We had half an hour after pictures to visit before we had to run to Jake's office, grab his paperwork, hurry to the dollar store to pick something up we had forgotten we needed for church and then hurry home where I had fifteen minutes.

In fifteen minutes I made a pot of coffee and loaded the dishwasher.  As i was headed out the door, I spilled my entire cup of coffee all over the stove.

We jumped in the suburban and hurried off to church.  Jake had left with S1 to make sure he got him to youth group on time.  It was then I realized we had forgotten a child.

Yes, you read that correctly.

We hadn't even made it a mile down the road when my call to double check with my husband that he did in fact have S2 with him only to hear he did not.  S2?  He heard me holler.  He heard me leave.  He knew I would be back for him.

Grrrr.  What a stinker.

We arrived to church where we had our Dave Ramsey class while the boys battled a real live bat.

Yes, you read that correctly too.

They thought it was so cool.  They hope the bat continues to live in the church.

My husband stayed at church for a meeting.  I took four boys boys home, three of which were so exhausted they were fighting and crying.

The smell of a dead mouse hidden somewhere in the house greeted me as I walked in the door at eight fifteen at night.

Monday the boys get to sit at school.  I get to sit at work.

Monday night we get to stay home all night for the first time in about eight weeks with no practice to run to.

i can't wait for Monday.

Frustrated With Religion

Recently, a friend and I got together to chat and drink coffee and watch our boys get super dirty having a good time outside.

She mentioned she was looking forward to already helping with the upcoming Vacation Bible School at her church for next summer.

"Oh," I gushed, "I know a GREAT person for you to contact! They do puppets..." I began to speak slower as I thought about this now that I was saying it, "and they do a great job and the boys are still singing their songs...but, well, they do their ministry from our church.  Would your church let them teach Vacation Bible School?"

She sighed. "Nope."

And I sighed in frustration.  Because we both go to great churches with different 'religious' names so we can't swap great ministry teams.

She and I found this to be ridiculous.

The more I think on this, the more frustrated I get with it all.  Why would a non Christian, un churched person want anything to do with the "church" groups?  If we can't even get along why should they get along with us?

My parents use to say to me, "Do they believe in God?  Do they believe Jesus is God's son?  Do they believe Jesus died on the cross for their sins and rose again?  Well then, we're Christians just like they are."

I am so thankful for my parents teaching me that all growing up because others haven't grasped it.

Because THEIR church is right and THAT church is wrong.

THEY sing with a drum but THEY only sing the true old hymns.

blah blah blah blah blah

Frustrated.

It's one of the things that I love so about Praise and Coffee.  It's not affiliated with a church for a reason - so that women from all churches and from all backgrounds can get together to connect, encourage and inspire.

Because, really, isn't that what it's all about?

Because Hubs Said I Would....

My husband informed me that I would share this with all my blogging friends.

I said I would not.

And now I am.

Once again, he is correct.

     (And now he is framing this post.)

Sunday we went to church.  We haven't been there in forever because the boys have been sick and I refuse to leave the house if my husband has to plow.  I figure if he has to plow, we need to stay home.

Anyhow.

We have junior church duty.  We had all boys aged 7 to 5.  When I asked them what they could ask God to help them with, something they were having a tough time with, one little boys squeaked out, "I fart a lot.  Like, a whole lot.  I think God needs to help me not fart so much."

The boys agreed solemnly in unison.

It was a struggle they all had.

My supportive husband left the area laughing, I had to agree this was definitely something to ask prayer for.

We will be discussing this further next week.

Ya'll may need to pray for me on that one.

Apparently it was a great church service to miss because the congregation was feeling all convicted.  Husband felt we should get the cd from the service but ignorance seemed the perfect bliss to me.  I was okay to not feel convicted on my sunny Sunday.

I think we'll get the cd on Wednesday.

Apparently my husband is correct AGAIN and it's always good to grow.

     (He is for sure to frame this post now.  Two times I say he is right!)

I told you all that to tell you this....

Some of you may be shocked to know that at times....my boys can embarrass me.

And Sunday was one of those days.

Jake and I left the church to head for the suburban and round up some boys - any that wanted to go home with us, basically - and S4 seen us and began to wail.

Loudly.

And hold himself.

From clear across the parking lot, he began to yell in pain.

"I have to go number one and I can't hooooooooooold it!"

So what does my husband say?

"Here!  Just lean against the tire and pee here."

I, mortified, got in the suburban and sat down.

My now happy son climbed cheerfully into the vehicle.

My practical husband said, "Oh, you know you'll blog about this."

"Oh no", I said, "I don't think they need to know what redneck hillbillies we are.  Or rather, YOU are."

"You married me," Jake grinned.

This whole blog post makes me feel the need to shop for shoes.  High heeled girly ones.  

(And...all the labels were already in my list of blog post labels...pee, church, fart and embarrassing. Sigh. Welcome to my life.)

S1, Johnny Cash and a Sermon

If you have followed this blog for any length of time, you know we have a fondness for Johnny Cash. The boys and I often listen to one of his greatest hits cds on the way into school in the morning. It's great fun.

One of the songs he sings Johnny Cash is quoting Revelation in “The Man Comes Around”. The boys happen to like that one a lot.

Anyhow, we were in church on Sunday night and our pastor has done this whole series on Revelation and he was wrapping it up. He had the congregation listen to a “bible on tape” recording of Revelation and when those words came up, well, my two oldest boys looked at me like “rock on, it's Johnny Cash!”

Well, church ended and it was late and we were headed home to get ready for bed and the school day to follow after two weeks of Christmas vacation. I was barking orders that began with....”As soon as we walk in the door, I want you boys in the shower.”

“But, Moma,” S1 quipped from the back, “Pastor just told us it says in the Bible that “he who is filthy should be filthy” still so I don't think I need to take a shower.”

He had to anyhow. Nice try, S1.

A Bad Day filled with Clouds

I should have known back when I wrote that article for Sue's Praise and Coffee newsletter about clouds being a reminder of God being with me I should expect to have to remember that. Because I have failed miserably at it.

Take today for instance.

It's Saturday, the first day of Christmas vacation. The first day of relaxation. Except I woke up in a panic at 5:30 thinking I had overslept to watch Jr today. But I hadn't, it was just Husband's phone alerting him to go plow.

And we weren't suppose to get any snow.

I awoke later to S3 and S4 taking turns tattling. “Moma, he just kicked me FOR NO REASON.”
“Moma, he just took my toy FOR NO REASON.” (which means there was a reason)

And in between all that it was “I am going to tell for real this time....” Then the tattling, then angrily calling out as soon as he stepped out of the bedroom “See, I did tell you on you!”

When I made pancakes for the boys, S3 and S4 had to sit in the same yellow chair I have in the kitchen and not speak to each other at all. That's just not the way you want to start the day.
We were running late, which just doesn't seem right on a day off, a day of vacation to boot, but the boys had Christmas play practice. Walking out the door we got an important phone call and the snow had made the roads truly awful and we were running late.

As I pulled into the church parking lot, still unshowered, wearing Husbands big t shirt, my favorite comfy jeans, a flannel and my big outdoor coat and hoping no one would see me at all, the suburban, that hardly ever slides on me, slid. As I was pulling into the drop off porch area of the church. The suburban was suddenly sideways and I was mere inches from the big decorative rock in the front.

I wasn't speeding, I wasn't in a hurry, I wasn't trying to do such a thing.

Had I hit the rock or, much worse, the church, I would have been humiliated beyond imagination and would beg Husband to never have us return. Ever. As in forever and ever. And move. Far far away. It would have been terrible.

But it wasn't.

Instead, the boys all did a collective, “Woa, that was SO COOL! Did you try to do that? Can we do that again? That was awesome!”

I am so thankful they find me cool.

When I got home, my two favorite neighbors stopped by. EG and KM are sweet girls, I just wish that when they stopped over it wasn't the moment I was not properly dressed, unshowered, have my hair in weird braids or buns for style's sake, have mountains of laundry.....you know, normal every day stuff. But I did have coffee on....and I think they secretively love this about me. And I did mention they are my favorite girls...so we chatted in my dirty dishes cluttered kitchen. They had stopped by to say goodbye to the boys because they are headed out for two weeks. That is sweet, I tell you, these are sweet girls!

But when they left and I jumped in the shower I was soon running late again when I headed out to pick the boys up. But I drove slower and was in four wheel drive the whole time. I pulled into church less than five minutes late. I hopped out of the suburban into the still accumulating snow we weren't suppose to be getting, shut my door and heard a weird cracking sound. As I walked around the back of the suburban, I noticed black things falling on the ground. Like muddy ice from a dirt road or like...glass.

As in my whole back window had just cracked, shattered and fallen to the ground.

I had to pick all the glass up off the ground and the bumper. Every time the boys got in or out of the suburban, more fell from the back. My thumb and finger were dripping blood by the time I was done.

I had no idea how it broke.

We had quite the little kid crowd staring at us.

When I pulled out of the parking lot to take the boys home in the broken window suburban, it was 12:30. They had to eat lunch and be back at the church by one for caroling with their WOL group.

I didn't have any food for lunch for them.

So, we stopped at the grocery store on the way home, grabbed two family cans of ravioli (can't even stand the sight of such food but they love it) and hurried home where I started barking orders to get the car seats (S2 and S3 still have to be in boosters and S4 has a car seat still) into the plow truck.

In the meantime, I was getting the ravioli in a microwavable bowl and into the microwave, getting disposable bowls and forks from the cub hoard and then we were all in the plow truck headed back to church where I would have the boys eat the icky smelling food they all so loved. We were home a full five minutes.

I have never driven this plow truck. I have not driven a straight blade plow truck in a long time. And did I mention it was still snowing snow we weren't suppose to get? The roads had completely deteriorated now.

So I am driving in an unfamiliar truck on nasty roads hoping the plow does not cross the center line.

We made it to church late but not too late and I spooned up the boys food and as they were scarfing it down so they could leave with the group, I felt like crying.

It was too much today.

But I held it all together, got the two younger back into the truck after cleaning up the church kitchen and headed slowly home. When we arrived home, I recalled how Husband wanted me to get familiar plowing with this truck just in case I ever had to help him in a pinch and so I began to plow the driveway. It's been many years since I have plowed. I got our driveway all done, not too great but not too shabby and headed over to do the rental. I made one great push of snow, impressive really how smoothly it went, when I noticed the front blade was dripping fluid.

And that is not good.

Remorse filled my tummy and I did began to cry.

I went back into our messy cluttered home to wait for Husband to come home and pray to God it wasn't a bad break whatever I had done.

I had a message from my Mom asking if I would have cookies and cocoa and coffee after the play Sunday night. I looked at the messy house and bickering boys and nearly called it all quits. It wasn't my mom's fault, it was a great idea really. I just felt like such a failure at that moment.
S4 jumped on the couch in joy to watch a movie, fell backwards and hit his head on the heater.
He didn't seem to have a concussion or anything so I left him in the house because Husband was pulling in and after I had just sobbed my apologies on the phone to him (very literally here) even though he assured me he was sure the plow was fine, I figured I had better go face the awfulness my 'helpfulness' was.

He was right, it was nothing. He had just filled the fluids and they were just dripping from being full. No problem at all.

So I jumped in the truck with him so he could finish plowing and poured out my woes to him.
Not a thing was wrong. I hadn't hit the rock, the insurance will cover the window, the truck was not broken, we had an extra vehicle for me to drive, we have a warm home people want to come over to....blessing upon blessing upon blessing.

But I had forgotten it all, and Husband gently reminded me.

Which was good, because when I got back in the house, S3 had a bruised eye because S4 had kicked him to get him off the spot he was sitting in to watch Clifford.

God was in the cloud that followed the Israelites thru the the desert in Exodus. He never left them, He kept them protected. Just as God never left my side today, kept us protected and sent blessing upon blessing upon me.

And the biggest blessing was my Husband, who reminded me of all that as we sat in an unbroken plow truck and just him being near me was making my day better.

My Prince and Princess Night

I haven't too much to say on this....it's just I wanted to show off the photo of my family as we were off to the Prince and Princess themed dinner at our church that the Word of Life Teen Youth Group put on. It was so much fun to dress up! Jake wore his only tie..a gag gift..Ds1 is the Prince of Hunting, Ds2 is the Prince of Hockey and Ds3 and Ds4 are dressed in whatever Moma put them in! :) All the boys had Burger King crowns, and the four boys wore fly swatters that had been 'turned' to swords. It was a LOT of fun! Enjoy the photo!

Just Another Sunday

Sunday's are always insane here. Are they for you too? I think it is pretty typical. Being in a house full of boys, I like to dress up. I like to wear dresses, I like getting all made up...I think it's from being around boys all the time and the fact that I am typically in jeans and a t-shirt and sometimes, as a girl, you want to be glam.

Well, like I said, Sunday's go crazy here. We are NEVER on time, we are always in a rush, it's never a nice, fun Sunday. I decided that THIS Sunday, it would be different. This is what happened....

I got up early. Like WAY early. I like nice quiet mornings to myself, enjoy the solitude, amazed at what can get done. But I do not like to get up, at all. I prefer my nice warm bed and my second day of the whole week to sleep in. But this morning, I had the bacon going while I was in the shower, I had my make up on and hair done by the time I started the pancakes, the boys were dressed, the coffee was made, poured and savored. It was beautiful.

Until I didn't know if I should wear my all black dress that comes to just above my knee with my black boots that come just below my knee without black tights in the first weekend of February. I went to ask my husband his opinion, but, that's kind of pointless so I had to call my mom. It goes like this, "you know my black dress from title nine?...." It helps that my mom is very familiar with all my clothes!

To pull off the tights I had to get a slip because the tights pulled on the dress and it was just a mess. But, I got it together, we were still just going to make it.

Until the youngest (ds4) filled his diaper, and pants, and it was nasty. This, mind you, hasn't happened in AGES.

We were late for church.

But not too late.

Sunday school over, we moved to church and all was going smooth. My handsome husband is ushering and all is sunny and bright and the boys are behaving so well.

Until I looked at the third (ds3). Something blue and glittery and sticky - very sticky - is on the bottom of his cowboy boot. Nasty. I am debating what to do, I don't want to get up and cause a scene. He looks over his boot, tries to take the sticky stuff off his boot, looks at the matchbox car in his hand....and I so knew what was happening next. His thinking process is like this...if my boot sticks to the floor, this car would stick to the bottom of my boot and then I could roller skate!

Keep in mind, my husband is ushering.

So, the sticky stuff is over the pew now, the matchbox car, the carpet...we had to make a move to the bathroom and FAST. Leaving the two oldest behind in the pew, I take the two youngest with me. I'm in there, scrubbing the nasty something off his boot and the car and explaining that this is not a good idea at any time but especially not during church and I literally hear snickers in the stalls. I thought we were alone.

I send them out of the bathroom, telling the to go QUIETLY to Jr. Church. DS4 looks back and yells "I'm the fastest!" as he runs full throttle for the gym. Everyone hears, of course, because the ushers are headed back in the church doors for church.

Sigh.

Church was good, dinner was good, I got a nap and all seemed well. My husband took the two oldest boys to a nephew's hockey game and I had a meeting at church I took the younger two to and all was sunny, bright and good.

Until I got home. There, in my window box, is an opossum. It is blocking the door, I'm scared to death of the nasty rodents, and all my manly men are gone. However, I can't very well let it get away because we have a chicken house full of chickens. I will always defend my chickens!

The opossum was even more scared and pulled the, "I won't move and they won't see me" approach. I hollered at the boys to stay put in the suburban, told my dog (who travels with me all the time, in the front seat) to guard the boys and ran for the back porch for the broom - it's my weapon of choice. It's the only one I am an expert at using.

In the meantime, my ds3 gets out of the suburban because he is sure I have purposefully left him behind. He is wailing and screaming about how he wanted to see me and walks right past the opossum and into the house and turns to see it staring at him. He screams, slams the door and when I make it around the corner to him he is on the porch, staring out the door screaming, "I don't like that oposum!" Meanwhile, ds4 is still buckled in the car seat screaming "LET ME OUT!" at the top of his lungs.

The opossum is snarling.

My husband is now rushing home because I have called him and he was nearly home already.

I am standing the middle of the driveway, armed with a broom, in my Sunday clothes, glaring down an opossum saying things "you don't look at me like that!" and the sheer humor of it hits me and I start laughing - hard. How can you not?

This, THIS is a typical Sunday, where the day turned out to by perfect, here with four boys out in the country.