I find that the week here boosts my confidence in my house-wifery.  It is much easier to manage a dollhouse.   Each doll only has 4 sets of clothes and only one pair of shoes to lose.   No one is overwhelmed at keeping two shirts hung and underwear neat in a drawer.  There are no toys to keep off the floor.  We have exactly 6 plates (even though we need seven) and the bowls will hold about 1/4 cup of cereal, only.    That fact that all of the dishes match and the coffee cups have saucers makes me feel as if I will open the pantry to find canisters of beads and painted plaster food in crates.  Tea parties are a must here.  It is much easier to keep a kitchen clean when you must wash the same pot (with a miniature-sized Palmolive) to first cook the noodles, then make the sauce.   I love it.  I feel so uncharacteristically tidy.

We always visit the library the first day here to make sure we have good reading material, although the kids are always more excited to have a t.v. in each room rather than a good book.   I spend the week turning off the Disney channel (gag…every “drama” is like a mini-adult romance…it’s disgusting) but, in general, it is much easier to discipline when the rooms are close together.  I certainly hear and catch more infractions and things are dealt with immediately, rather than when I get a chance to go upstairs.

We visit the commissary once a day to buy the groceries for dinner.  When it is warm, we walk.  This makes me feel very European, as if we are walking down to the local market to buy a chicken with feet on, instead of cellophane wrapped boneless, skinless breasts.   I have to cook very simply, too.  I don’t bring spices along, other than salt, pepper, and olive oil.  In fact, today for lunch, I used up what we had in the kitchen, as the papa had taken the car to work early and the temperature was 30 degrees outside.   As I suspected, anything sauteed in olive oil, salt and pepper can be good, even if it is only one giant onion, a handful of baby carrots and 2 Roma tomatoes.    Really, if poured over pasta, you can carry the rustic Italian market theme over very well.

John and I find ourselves wondering why we spend our days toiling to keep up a big house.  Why do we have all that stuff?  Should we sell our house, and buy a 1,000 sq foot farmhouse?  Would our children be tidier, better behaved, and happier?  It is easy to forget that books, musical instruments, art supplies, computers, Christmas decorations, yard equipment really do need a place if you are going to live the typical American life.  We forget that God has called my husband to fly, and a pilot’s job exists where the cities are, BUT, it still makes us pine for simpler living.  There must be a way to have the two meet somewhere.   Next week, when I am back home, mismanaging my laundry and using 5 different pots to make dinner, I am going to set aside a tea bag,  boil some water and have a tea party with my girls.

slow and steady...

…but I got  a new camera instead.  Actually, that is not why I am not writing a novel.  I am not writing a novel this month because no one would get fed in my household, which would make for 7 very unhappy people, but I do find that my new camera makes me want to write again.  Framing a picture slows me down, giving me time to think and ponder, which is why I like writing so much.  So maybe during this busy season, I will just take pictures when I don’t have a chunk of time to write.  Enjoy…and  yes, this is sort of a self-portrait.

They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.  That phrase is wrong for a number of reasons, but  for now I am simply going to apply it to my blog.  All of this (imagine the grand sweep of the hand) is so stale feeling, so old and outdated.    I no longer live on the border (new name anyone? anyone?  And no!  I will not be called Sugarmama [I now live in a city named after a sugar factory].)  My booklist is way outdated, dittos on the movies, blogroll needs culling/augmenting, etc., etc.  Even my categories no longer seem to match my life.

This reminds me of when I was younger.  Many writers were (and are) diary afficionados…I was not.  I would fall in love with a beautiful, empty, fabric covered journal, or even get my hands on the coveted diary with a tiny key, but a month later or two I would go back to the beginning and cringe.  My words were so stale and my entries were so dreadfully shallow.  Granted, I was a teenager, but still…gag.  I usually ripped the pages to tiny pieces – not because of some deep, dark confession I didn’t want revealed, but because I just couldn’t endure the thought of someone stumbling upon it and thinking that that was…well, all.  Thankfully, I don’t feel that way about my past entries, but my site is in need of some housekeeping.

I think I will begin my first change by posting a picture of my new backyard, since one of my last entries was about backyards.  You will see that part of moving to the city required that I sacrifice some of my ideals on how a backyard should look or be sized, but I have a real fondness for our little piece of green out back.  It is a wonderful place to drink coffee, and I even have a little garden hiding behind my garage.  It’s just right for me at this phase in my life. 

my new backyard

I’d like to think that the biggest change is that I have given myself permission to do something I have been loathe to give myself in the past…permission to fail.  Yes, fail.  Fail in what, dear reader, I hear you ask.  At first, I merely thought it was permission to fail in keeping a timely blog…not letting too many days slip by, posting every single day like the other blogging moms who manage a post-a-day.  I had craftily thought that by not blogging, I might avoid failure.  You might know that disease I speak of…the If-you-don’t-do-it-perfectly, don’t-do-it-at-all disease?  The last two years have taught me that the only prescription for that affliction is failure.    There is great (and humbling) value in seeing that the whole world does not fall apart when you fail in something.  I have learned that when my plans either disintegrate, get pushed aside, are not good enough, or are just plain wrong, some surprising things happen.   I may have to start over, or listen to advice, or work alongside someone, or (horrors!) let someone else take over.  That’s okay.  Really it is.  And you might have guessed that I am speaking of bigger things than just blogging. 

So, while I say I’m back, I have given myself permission to miss a day, a week, or even a month or two, and not have an all-or-nothing mentality about it.  And you may see a few more un-edited typos.   Or some outrightly lame posts.  That’s okay…it’s my own perfectly (!) neurotic therapy.

My just-turned-two year old always wants to pray after everyone else at dinner. Usually she repeats what has just been said, a litany of thanks for everyone around the table. “Dear God, Tank oo Jesus, tank oo bubba, tank oo mama, tank oo dada…” But tonight, she gave us evidence that she has caught on to thanking Him from whom all blessings flow:

“Tank oo milkies!”

Lest anyone think she was just naming the contents of a glass before her, think again. Milkies is her word for mama’s milk, not to be had from a glass.

Karen tagged me for this meme…my first one! The perfect way to write my third entry for the month of May. My how time flies…

A. Available or Single

Available only to my husband of 13 years.

B- Best Friend.

John…he’s my best boy friend.  My best girl friend would be Jen…even though we live far away, we can pick up a conversation mid-sentence.  I love having to skip the formalities!

C- Cake or Pie.
Cake (GF, of course).

D- Drink of Choice.
Black coffee in the morning.  Room temp water otherwise.

E- Essential Item.
Hmmm, a pen?

F- Favorite Color.
Blue.

G- Gummi Bears or Worms.
Neither.

H- Hometown.
San Antonio, TX

I- Indulgence.
Blogging.

J – January or February.
February.

K- Kids.
Four —10 year old girl, 7 year old boy, 5 year old girl, and 2 year old girl.

L- Life is incomplete without…
Jesus.

M- Marriage Date.
December 30, 1993

N- Number of Siblings?
Two…an older sister by 6 years, and older brother by 3 years.

O- Oranges or Apples?
Oranges.

P- Phobias/Fears.
I used to be a hypochondriac until I realized one day, “So what am I afraid of?…If I die, I’ll be with Jesus.”  The only other fear I have is of flying, ironic for a pilot’s wife.  I still fly though.  For the same reason as above.

Q- Favorite Quote.

Do I have to choose one?  My new favorite to chew and digest is this one, from Dan Allender’s Bold Love:  Love is a sacrifice for the undeserving that opens the door to restoration of relationship with the Father, with others, and with ourselves.

R- Reasons to smile.
Sunshine, blue sky, birds singing, a soft bed, a warm shower, good music, my husband, my children, books, friends, beauty in all its forms.

S- Season(ing).
Spring (Cinnamon)

T- Tag Three.

Denise, Southern Girl , and (he’s going to kill me…) dpc+.

U- Unknown Fact About Me.
I can sing the French national anthem, the Marseilles (but I’m not sure I can spell it).

V- Vegetarian or Oppressor of Animals.
Omnivore.

W- Worst Habit.
Not putting things away after I get them out.

X- X-rays or Ultrasounds.
Ultrasounds first, please.

Y- Your Favorite Foods.
Homemade salsa and chips.  Fish tacos.  Chocolate.  Appetizers.

Z- Zodiac.
You’ve got to be kidding.

This wouldn’t be so frustrating to me except that I have had so many problems with my brand new appliances. None have been cheap, off-brands either. I have gone round and round with Maytag over my “Quiet Series 300″ dishwasher. What a lemon!! The folding tines collapse at the slightest touch, the plastic pieces that hold the tines snap from constantly having to readjust the tines. The pulley that opens the door has broken. The plastic latch that opens the door literally crumbled to pieces in my hand just the other day! It doesn’t clean as stated, i.e. “never rinse your dishes again!” Baloney. And the parts center has been horrible. They have spent so much money sending me the wrong parts. I have an entire dishrack sitting in my garage that they didn’t even want me to send back. I have lodged numerous complaints both in paper, email, and telephone and I have just gotten the standard, “We are sorry for your dissatisfaction, but…” reply. I have finally resigned myself to NEVER buying anything Maytag again.

My also very expensive Kenmore Elite bottom freezer refridgerator also makes me crazy. The doors don’t close easily and because there are two, you have to conscientiously make sure one of them is not hung up on the other. The deli pull out tray broke when a friend who was unaware of the delicate nature of my fridge, shut the doors too vigorously. I will never buy a bottom freezer again, at least one with a drawer. Bad idea in a big family with lots of small children. If one child doesn’t shut the drawer extremely tight, ice forms in the track and then you can hardly open or shut it without great force. Also, one of my children shut the door hard, thinking that it was just ice in the track, and inadvertently broke the arm of the ice maker, so we had to disconnected the ice maker because the durn thing didn’t know when to stop making ice! What fun!

Ironically, my hot water dispenser, the one I won with my kitchen makeover broke after a few months. That was fun…the lever broke and the water shot out full blast. We had to shut the water off to the entire sink for about a week and a half before they could send us a new one for us to install. I have now installed two, due to a finish problem with the replacement, so I feel like I could be a qualified Insinkerator installer!

I’m sure I could avoid some of these expensive problems if I purchased the extended warranties but I refuse!! You mean I have to pay them hundreds of dollars on top of hundreds of dollars already spent because they refuse to stand behind the quality of their products? Do they knowingly make junk so they can make money off of extended warranties and repairs?

Hey, I might need a second job to help pay for all of these appliance woes…anyone need a hot water dispenser? I’d only charge you $40 dollars an hour. How ’bout it?

UPDATE:  Okay, okay, I confess.  In a moment of frustration I was unfair to my Kenmore dryer.  After my husband took it apart, and, finding nothing wrong with it, we called in the repairman.  He fiddled with it and finally handed me a wad of fabric that had lodged into the fan blade.  This had somehow gotten shoved down the lint cleaner.  Serves me right for not keeping the top of the dryer clean.  Bah!

And, not to ungrateful, I wanted to note that although my Insinkerator hot water dispenser broke, the company very quickly and nicely replaced it with a new one.  We had to install it ourselves only because we live in a “remote” area.

There, now I feel better.

I was reminded of this as I was visiting Owlhaven’s site and ran across this plea to pray for Lucas, a fellow blogger’s little boy who was burned last night. Many of you know that our own son was burned about a year and a half ago. My heart goes out to this family and Lucas. It brings back the feeling of my heart breaking in two for my little boy. Please read his story and PRAY, PRAY, PRAY for him.

Also, scroll down and look at the you-tube video the family made of their adoption story. Keep a kleenex ready! They brought their two new children home only a few months ago.

I was thinking about how right now the family’s souls feel as raw as their son’s flesh. I was also thinking how God showed Himself over and over through our ordeal, mostly through the prayers we felt that were coming literally from around the world. Now, as I told my son of little Lucas, his earnest face lit up when I asked him to pray for him. Can you imagine? He actually felt joy that he could pray for another little boy in need. What a blessing. I think of how many people come away from a painful tragedy bitter. I know our son’s injuries could have been worse, but I believe his belief in God’s goodness would still have been the same.

Now our son is healed and stronger in his faith than he was before he was burned. Please pray the same for Lucas.