Fave tasty treat ... from the Dollar General?

Looky what I found at the Dollar General of all places ... Dolce Delights!  Just the name alone enticed me to buy a pack. 

 

They are delish alone and best with your favorite cuppa.  Stop by your local Dollar General and enjoy this sinful little cheapy, but decadent treat!

(Yes, this is empty - did you notice that?  I was hoping you wouldn't.... they are that good!)



Sewing badge for Moms?

Moms of scouts will agree when I say that moms should be able to earn badges too.  The first of which should be a sewing badge.  The second, a camping badge.

I know, because I am a mom to a cubscout and I am going through my own little initiation. I do not have a sewing machine folks!  How about the perfect alignment of the pack number?  Pretty spiffy for a brand new scout mama!

Favorite birthday gift from my boys...

Mama didn't ask for diamonds or pearls.  All she wanted was a bright, shiny pack of Sharpies for her birthday.  Mama like!

Soccer is over...

YMCA Effingham County District winners ...

The team played their hearts out, but lost the second game in a shoot out match after neither team was able to score during overtime.  Everyone was exhausted - the parents paced and shouted, the kids gave their all.  Still, I can't say I am glad it's over.  We eat, sleep and breathe soccer in this house! 

RJ says that gymnastics is an awesome companion sport to build flexibility and bounce.  Maybe these boys will suit up in leotards!  Anything is possible!

Owen and Coach RJ

Room Mom Mahem

The Room Mom...

Everybody has one or a few depending on the number of children in your brood.  Her letters begin entirely too perky, alternating between passive and agressive.  In the past, I admit to reading through flyers sent home by the Room Mom, with my red pen in hand, ready to catch a grammar error or two.  I can remember one year, the room mom was a former friend of mine - and I greatly enjoyed reading her form letter flyers.  The only personal touch she added was her name ... at the end. 

(When I see her in the parking lot, I hum the tune to the Wicked Witch of the West (aka Mrs. Gulch from The Wizard of Oz.)    Just so you get the full effect of this former friend o' mine... click here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=r4kiXh8YOzk

Well, now I am the room mom times 2. 

Let me just clear a few things up.  It is hard work. 

Do not laugh at the room mom, she is on the verge.  The verge of going crazy, the verge of complete insanity, the verge of tears, of heinous laughing.  She is overworked and completely unpaid. 

She is Volunteer Numero Uno. 

She is stressed and she has to drag a few of you into whatever it is that she has to do - and be sure of it - she doesn't even want to do "it" herself.  Appease her, thank her.  Do not giggle and say, "ha ha ha - I really don't want tooooo..... , but if you can't find anyone else, I guess you can call me back...."  The room mom foots the bill for a lot of things in the classroom.  Cupcakes, juice boxes, decorations for the room door, printer ink, paper, the list goes on and on and on. 

Did you know that room moms decorate the room door?  Oh yes, you can be sure of it. 

The room mom collects money for teacher gifts and usually pays for a portion of it herself, out of her own pocket over and over again.  She makes spreadsheets of names and addresses - and do you know how precarious it is to assume or not that parents are still together and should be typed as Mrs. & Mrs. So and So?  Because what if they are divorced, and the mom stilll has the same last name, but DOES NOT want her name on the same line as his?  Oh my.

Room Mom-ing is a competitive sport.  Well, maybe I am just competitive with myself.  I just want to make cute treat bags ...

Somewhere around the 4th bag out of 40, I throw my hands up and question for the millionth time "Why can't I be normal and just buy cellophane bags and be done with it?"  It is a constant internal struggle. 

So the next time you see the room mom, or one of her entirely too perked-up and threatening letters, please know that she is over-worked.   Please know that she is not paid.  Please volunteer to bring juice boxes or cupcakes FOR SOMETHING.  Because she means well.  She wants your child to have a grand year with a few jolts of candy and cupcakes thrown in, with a door that says "Come in and stay awhile." 

God bless the Room Moms!

Life is Sweet ...

Time flies while you're having fun...

This is me on my birthday.  Happy 35th to me! 

One thing that I am learning as I get older, is that I am still learning as I get older.  One thing I have learned just in this last week is that I spend a great deal of time fretting over things that I cannot change and trying to perfect things that really don't matter much at all. 

Soul searching is what I am doing - and learning to slow down for the small things (and smallest people in my life) that I seem to hurry along far too often.

Further to that note, I will be slowing down on my blog.  While this has been a fun and a creative outlet of sorts, it takes up a great deal of my time and fret over it, I do... far, far too often. 

So tally-ho!  See you in a bit!  I am off to swing in the swings and play kick the can in the moonlight.  Life is Sweet, but it can be very, very short. 

Turn off EVERYTHING and LIVE!

Sight Words ...

Sight words, blending words - this is how I keep up with all of the words Miles needs to learn each week...

Keep them in the car with you for easy practicing on the go!

Easy Peasy Teacher Gift

For the packaging:

1 mason jar with lid

Raffia or ribbon

Hanging tag with child's signature

For the Munch Mix:

Pecans (preferably from your grandma's farm)

Walnuts, broken into pieces

Hershey's Dark Chocolate Chips

Salted Sunflower Seeds

Dried Blueberries, Raisins or Cranberries

Mix, shake, tie up, give & smile!

My very own pencil sharpener...

My Grandma Louise had a manual pencil sharpener mounted on the wall in her hallway closet.  Growing up, I loved to open the closet door and sharpen a pencil or two.  I was always into one thing after another and that pencil sharpener was on the list!  Once I had my fill of the pencil sharpener, I was quickly on to the electric ice crusher and having a go at that.  Poor Grandma Louise - I think I drove her batty! 

When Owen started school, I knew I needed my very own manual pencil sharpener.  Most people tried to convince me to get an electric one - as if!  They did not understand the nostalgia behind the manual pencil sharpener.  Nothing else would do. 

This year, my choice for a birthday gift was not jewelry or a shopping trip to Jacksonville's St. John's Town Center.  It was a Stanley Bostitch Double-Cutter Pencil Sharpener. 

Isn't she lovely?

I have finally arrived!

No thank you ... please?

I have a lot of stuff.  It is everywhere.  In piles, stacked in chairs, tucked into baskets.  At one time it was good to tuck things into baskets - it made for my new house to look lived in and cozy, but that was ten years ago.  My drawers are overflowing, my closets have begun to revolt and throw stuff onto the floor below.  Sometimes anxiety takes me over to the point that my dear, well-intentioned husband gets abused for leaving wayward papers on the counter.  It's just enough to throw me right over the edge of sanity, into the deep and murky pool of insanity.  A place where a happy and smiley girl like me becomes quite evil. 

It could happen.

I am not a hoarder, but I do watch the show and it makes me itch ... it makes me panic.  Before I know it, before the end of the show, I practically run to some crowded corner of the house - a closet, under a bed, a drawer and I start throwing the contents away.

I think we are all a little overwhelmed by all of our "stuff."  Our brains are sitting on "Go!" with to-do lists, our in-boxes are overflowing with action items, our text message memory is full, Facebook is constantly calling, the endless papers that come home from school (fundraisers, forms to complete, graded worksheets, "art" that we form an emotional attachment to) and all of it on the counter.  What about the things that get gifted or given to us by family members and friends?  Every now and then, I will tuck one of these things under my bed to re-gift to a person who might enjoy that sort of thing.  Guilt - it gives me guilt. 

And so, I've come up the following phrases and I have practiced them so that I sound sure of myself, here goes...

"Thanks for thinking of me, but I have plenty..."

or

"I don't really need it, but maybe you could find someone else who could use it and love it."

This is hard and I am not very good at it, but I am trying.  Downsizing has to happen in our three bedroom home of ten years. 

My next step is stop the magazines from appearing in my mailbox, but that would be ... harsh.  Maybe I will save that one for another day!

Phoenetic Alphabet

I've been working in the aviation field since 1996, so by now I should know the Phoenetic Alphabet by heart.  The thing is, I've always been sort of ... rusty.  I always forget J (Juliett), M (Mike) and I (India.)  I always remember W (Whiskey), G (Golf - how easy is that!) and others.       Q (Quebec) is also hard to remember. 

So, the next time you find yourself on the phone, trying to rattle off a string of letters to someone, feel free to use the method below instead of A for Apple.  The Phoenetic Alphabet has been in use since 1913 and although a few letters have changed since then, they still remain the standard for communicating the alphabet over phone or radio.  

3rd Grade with Mrs. Anna Barton...

You have a handful there, Mrs. Barton... get ready! These two might look innocent, but I know these boys - and it's gonna be a fun, sweaty, completely brilliant, exciting, sometimes dirty, but always worth it adventure!  Good luck!

Miles' 1st Day of Kindergarten...

Miles' 1st Day of Kindergarten

Owen's 1st Day of 3rd Grade

I used to worry about Owen more than Miles.  Owen, so fair-skinned with blue eyes, seemed almost puny compared to my tan and tough ("spicy" is what my Grandma calls him) Miles.  I used to imagine Miles, years down the road, taking up for his older brother in high school.  Miles would throw the first punch at any kid picking on his brother and the school would call, and yep, that's our Milesy. 

Then something shifted.  Gradually, I started realizing that Owen was the stronger, more confident one.  Owen is smart and analytical.  He has a curiousity about life and everything in it.  He puts things together, takes them apart, does it again and again.  He asks lots of questions and weighs the answers.  Sometimes he doesn't believe me, Jim or his teachers.  I guess you'd call him a "know it all" and usually I am not a fan of that, but he's my Owen.  Inventor of gadgets and gizmos, lego builder supreme.  He has big plans for what he will invent when he is older and how it will work.  The kid even has common sense. 

When did all of this happen? 

And then there is my little Milesy.  A smaller fella and so loving.  He's still spicy and he's a fighter, but I am not so sure he gets the big picture yet and I kinda worry about him.  He's reading already - that was the goal of the summer, but can he button his shorts after going potty?  Can he reach the sink in the boy's bathroom?  How will he be able to carry the heavy lunch tray?  These are things that I never worried about with Owen...

We survived the first day of kindergarten, and my little fella fit right in.  He sat down at the table in the spot where the little yellow teddy bear labeled "Miles" was taped.  He started working on his coloring sheet.  Wrote his name at the top of the page.  Bless him.  So studious already and I realized I could go - that he was fine. 

There wasn't much of a chance to get sad or emotional.  There were no tears on his first day (just buckets of them the night before.)  I told him "bye" a few times more to make myself feel better.  I gave him a squeeze.  Then I walked out the door.  I thought I was ok.  I think I am ok.  Am I ok?  Is it me I am worried about or is it him?  Am I having a hard time letting go?

That afternoon, Owen bounded into the car like a tiger.  Nothing phases this kid anymore.  I trust him to be smart, to be careful, to be kind and he does.  Poor little Miles forgot his lunch box.  He wasn't much for conversation in the car or at home. 

I know he will learn and he will grow, but for right now, he just seems smaller than the rest and so I worry, as all mothers do...

Bless these children of ours!  And bless us mamas too!

Perfume Tip

Something came over me recently in Ulta - I decided to test out perfumes... A lot of perfumes.  After the first five or so, I came up with this idea...

After spraying the sample card, write the name of the perfume, this will come in handy later when you've forgotten which was which and what was what.  (Cause I am so smart and all... ha ha ha!)

P.S.  I am selling this idea to Martha next week. 

New fave jeans ...

This girl (that would be me) had to go to Wisconsin to discover Buckle Jeans.  Imagine my surprise when Jaime texted me that we have a Buckle store right here in the Oglethorpe Mall.  What a goober I am! 

Anyway, this is how it works - I go to Wisconsin and hang with the Hanuses, who are a very stylish bunch, and I come home bringing a lil' bit of their style with me.  It works well.  I like it.  And I LOVE my new jeans! 

Here they are ...