Melancholy and Glee

It's been a busy time here in the Rose household, lately. So much so that I got sick. That always seems to happen when I put too many things on my plate. I think my plate is smaller than other people's, too! I mean, I've already lessened my activities. I'm not doing choir at church right now because Ellie is having separation anxiety. Because I'm not able to do choir, I'm also not able to be on Praise Team during Sunday morning services. That sucks. I really miss singing. So much so that I have started watching GLEE on Netflix streaming. It's a pretty awesome show, but more about that later....

There have been a few large ticket items that have come up since I have stopped working that really blew through my stay-at-home fund. First, the laptop died a violent death and needed replacing, then the fence suffered a mortal wound. Just those 2 things alone sucked up 1/3 of our funds! So, Rob and I were brainstorming about how I could get some money into this house.

Could I take in a kid to watch during the day? No. Salty is a bad dog and bites people. Which leads me to another point that causes melancholy in our lives: Salty is going to have to go. I don't think we're going to be able to find him another place. All the rescue people I talk to aren't willing to take him in. They are either too full, or don't want the liability of a dog that bites. One rescue group told me to look up Cocker Rage and it seems to just about nail down the kind of behavior Salty exhibits. I'm sad because I think we are going to have to put him down. I just am afraid of what could happen if he goes after the baby. He's too unpredictable. It's so sad because the rest of the time, he is a loving dog and is well-behaved. But it's those times that he bites--with quite a vicious intent--that I can't have around. I was bit by a dog when I was 9. The dog was in a family with 2 small children. Nineteen stitches later, I was fine, but the dog was gone for the safety of those 2 children. Note to self.

Our other money making idea was for me to start cleaning homes. I thought that could work. I could at least bring the baby with me, set up a playpen, and clean while she played in the pen. Then she started to get separation anxiety. She won't even go to Rob unless I'm sitting right there. Even then, she can only handle about 5 minutes with him before she is crying for me to hold her again. I'm trying desperately to acclimate her to her crib so that she can start sleeping there at night. However, every time I put her in the crib, she wakes up within 10 minutes of being put there. She does NOT like it! So, to help her a little more about being away from Mommy's body, I have started putting her in the exersaucer. She tolerates that a lot more. She sat in it for 20 minutes yesterday without fuss. Yes, she stared at me almost the entire time, almost to make sure I wasn't going anywhere, but she tolerated it and I consider that a huge win! I decided cleaning houses probably wasn't going to work unless I just let Ellie cry the entire time I was cleaning somebody's house--which would take upwards of 4 hours, depending on the size and cleanliness of the home. The thought of going back to work and putting my separation anxiety baby into a daycare was causing me anxiety.

And then the miracle I had been praying desperately for since before the baby was even born happened!!! I won't go into all the details, but we were given a car. Praise the Lord, He deserves all the glory! The idea from the giver was that we could sell the car and put the money toward keeping me home longer. Rob came up with a better, God-inspired idea: Sell the van!!!

We have been making $500/mo car payments since we were married, due to a car buying mistake that was made before our nuptials. We only had 18 months left to pay off the van, but that was the same amount I made every month after all the costs of going to work and paying for childcare, etc. So, I figured up how much we owed on the van and decided how much we needed to sell it for. It helped that we had an extended warranty on the van good through Oct 2012 or 72,000 mi. (the van only had 57,000 mi. on it). Miracle of all miracles, the van sold in 6 days!!!

No more van payments. However, the car we currently have needs a little bit of work. Nothing too expensive, though. But, it requires scouring junk yards and going to dealerships and hounding ebay for the proper parts. It's exhausting trying to find a certain part within a certain budget. It's kind of what I live for, though. I love to barter for services and prices; there's such a sense of victory when you get them down to your price. Within a few short months, we should have this car all decked out to be our family car for the next couple years.

Now, let's talk about GLEE!!!! I love this show! The songs are such a trip. When they pull out songs like "Bootylicious" and others from MY teenage years, I just about jump off the couch and join in! No video cameras, please! When Mr. Shuester (sp?) broke out with "Ice, Ice Baby" and "Funky Cold Medina" in a few of the episodes, I about died!!! I think I have officially become a 'Gleek'! There is a lot of teen sexuality and Rob is really uncomfortable about that. Especially since we have children who are getting closer and closer to the teen years. I kind of agree with him, but that's the world we live in. We are called to teach our children what God says about sexuality and pray they choose to live that way. But, if they don't, we are going to love them through it. Of all the consequences of pre-marital sex, a baby is the best. I mean, why does television always portray babies as the only consequence? What happened to AIDS or any other of the STD's out there--or what about self-esteem issues involved with having sex too young? And, why is it that when a teen finds herself pregnant on TV, her parents always kick her out? I find it appalling that the show chose to portray Quinn's parents as Christians. I mean, yes she was in the celibacy club and she prayed in an episode. But, when they portrayed her parents, they were idiotic drunkards. Not only that, but when her pregnancy was exposed, they offered her nothing. This was their grandbaby on the way! No, her parents were definitely not Christians. Now, I've only seen season 1 and the remaining seasons are not on Netflix streaming--yet. I am hoping beyond all hope that her parents redeem themselves. Don't spoil anything for me, though.

Things are on the up-slope here for us. I'm almost afraid to admit that, though. Almost as though putting it out there makes us more vulnerable for an attack.

It's the drugs talking...

I've been sick for the past couple days. At first, I thought it was just allergies. When I woke up at 3 a.m. the other night with a fever, that theory went out the window.

Because I am breastfeeding, I have not been able to take my favorite remedy: Nyquil. My alternative remedy: Tylenol and Benadryl. It's basically the same thing, but without the alcohol (boo!).

I was talking to Ellie just a few minutes ago about how big she's getting already. She goes to the Pediatrician early next week for her 4 month checkup. I'm guessing she's already at least 20 lbs. I was saying things to her about how big she is, about how sturdy she is and how healthy she's been.

And then I said it: You're a brick house, Ellie! And, then I sang it!!!

Yes, I just sang "Brick House" to my 4 month old. I'm blaming the drugs. Yeah, let's go with that.

For your listening and viewing pleasure:

A New Type of Chicken

Rob came home from golfing hungry. While he was getting the chicken out to defrost it, he asked the kids, "What type of chicken do you guys want tonight?"

Aurora answered, "Bland!"

Ryan answered, "Pizza!"

Ho-hum

It's been an interesting couple of weeks, and yet, nothing overly exciting has happened. This, however, is a good thing in my house! Usually when the exciting things happen they are either expensive or tragic. So, I'm grateful for the hum-drum times we have been going through recently. (I sure hope I didn't just jinx myself by placing that in writing!)

Let's see? The fence guys finally came and finished the fence. Sassy had escaped one of the days that the fence was down. That was fun. I love chasing a dog through a neighborhood with a little baby in tow.

Aurora got to be Little Miss Muffett for her school play this year. She absolutely loved it. We weren't able to see the play yet, since the evening performance was cancelled due to inclement weather (read: Tornadic Storms).

Our dear friend, Leila Wade is quite the amazing seamstress. She made this dress and apron and a mop cap, as well. I don't even think it took her a week to finish. Did I mention that she's awesome? Would it make you think she's even more than awesome if I mentioned she has a husband in the Army Reserves, a teenage daughter who is graduating from high school this year (it's prom season, btw), a teenage son in band, and a 3 year old daughter? Yup. Awesome. I have 3 kids who aren't even in any activities at school and I find it hard to clean my kitchen! This woman made a dress and kept her family fed in the midst of all that! Whew! You're awesome, Leila! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

Ryan has started to read more and more. Aurora held something up just last night at dinner and he read it as she was waving it around. He's still quite the stinker. He made a horrific mess in the bathroom with soap the other day and tried to convince me that it wasn't him. My favorite excuse "Maybe it was the dogs." It was so hard to keep a straight face. He did, eventually, own up to it, but it took about 20 minutes and various scapegoats to get a confession. And, yes, only my son Ryan could make a "mess" with SOAP!!! I mean, come on!

Elliana is growing like a weed. I go to her 4mo appointment on May 2nd and I wouldn't be too surprised if she's weighing in at 20 lbs. already! She's such a chunk! So much is changing with her. She learns a new thing every day we wake up. She's smiling and giggling (still not quite a laugh yet). Her hands are becoming more and more useful to her, almost. She still bonks herself in the face every now and again. When she gets excited about something, her hands will just start flailing and she will smack her face really hard--you can actually hear the thud!--and look at me as if to say "What just happened?" She's getting better at controlling her hands, though.

In fact, just today I brought out the Exersaucer to entertain her. She has almost outgrown her swing and we need a stationary place for her that the dogs can't trample on, so I thought "What the heck?" She loved it! I've never seen her concentrate so hard. I took a 1 minute video of her first few moments. Click the link below if you want to. Nothing incredibly exciting happens, but I'm a mom and I think my baby is cuter than cute. You should, too!

Elliana's First Moments in Her Exersaucer

What else? Not much. I have to find a way to bring some money into this household. I've decided to do 2 different things: Clean houses (does your house need cleaning? My rates are incredibly reasonable.) and make various baby items to sell. Leila introduced the Carseat Canopy to me and I'm going to look at making a few other items, as well. Hopefully, ebay can help with the sale of those items. We've talked about doing craft shows in the area, but that costs money and it's such a risk.

So, I'm still in the planning stages. No idea what God has in store. Whatever I do, I have to bring a baby with me. In the summer, there will be all 3 kids to consider. *sigh* God will provide for all our needs. It's not the needs that I'm concerned about; it's the wants that I don't want to give up.

Words of Affirmation

I have a love language. Everybody does. Some people feel loved when they are given gifts. Others, when someone spends time with them. Rob feels loved when I sacrifice my own feelings and desires to do something for him; this is called "Acts of Service". I don't do that often enough. The "Acts of Service" I do for him are usually things that I think are important--like making sure he never runs out of clean undershirts or socks, or cleaning the bathroom (that he spends lots of time in--why do men do that?).

For me, however, my love language is "Words of Affirmation". I am an encourager. I know that is crazy, since I am a very negative person. Anyone who has ever lived with me knows that I complain and murmur a lot. But, it's true. When I see someone down and out, I try very hard to come up with a reason to encourage them. Even if it's a far stretch from where they are, I try to bring some sort of joy out of the circumstances they are in. If you are ever served some affirming and encouraging words from me, that's my way of telling you I love you. Don't brush it off, just tell me "Thank You" and know that you are loved!

Yesterday was a day where affirmation would have served me well. I spent all morning cleaning up the house. I did 4 loads of laundry--washed and folded; there is nothing in my dryer, currently! The dishwasher needed emptying, the sink was full of dirty dishes--half of which needed to be washed by hand. The counter tops and kitchen floor were filthy, so I scrubbed them, as well. After that, I had to feed the baby. Once I finished feeding her, she fell asleep and I went upstairs to scrub the master bath. Yes, I cleaned the outside and inside of the toilet, back behind the toilet and most of the baseboards in that room. Nobody noticed.

Rob came home from lunch early and I was upstairs cleaning the bathroom. He had to go and I was in his way. Frustrated, he went downstairs to the bathroom I had slated to clean next. It, of course, was filthy! Rob didn't say anything about it, he just went about his business. He's a smart man, after all!

But, after work, Rob came home to a house that looked like a tornado blew through it. I had a load of laundry across the loveseat, sorted out in piles to fold. The kitchen table was covered in school papers and folders. Dog toys and kid toys scattered the floors and the kitchen was a mess again. *sigh* Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. Rob came in, took one look around and stared, bewildered, at all that needed to be done before our Monday night Bible study group showed up.

I was so frustrated. All that work I'd put in all day long and nobody could even tell I'd done it. Sometimes I feel so invisible. Like, the things I do don't really matter at all. I mean, nobody tells me how great I am at doing the laundry. Rarely do I ever hear "Way to clean that toilet, Mommy!" or "Wow, did you remove everything from the counter tops just so you could clean the entire surface?". Yeah, nobody thinks to say things like that. I so enjoy doing it all, too! It's like art to me, somehow.

Follow me here: I take a jumbled, filthy canvas and I clean it all up, making it look presentable and welcoming to friends and family. I make it safe and pleasant to the inhabitants thereof, simply by cleaning the filth and the muck. And yet, nobody notices. To me, looking at my clean house and not acknowledging the beauty of it all is like looking at a painting and not noticing the care and the detail the artist placed in each brush stroke. Each color in the painting is deliberate and perfected by the artist; each placement of character and form is made to be pleasing to the on-looker. Nobody would characterize my clean house that way, but I do! Each swipe of the rag and each sway of the duster says to the inhabitants and visitors of my house "I love you and I think you are worthy of all this!"

Yes, there are piles of papers and stacks of junk and toys in a few areas of my house. We do live here and not everyone here enjoys cleaning as much as I do. I consider those areas to be a messy clean--kind of a Pablo Picasso clean. It's beautiful and aesthetically appealing, yet you can't really tell exactly what it is... However, if you notice that my baseboards shine, or that my mantle is dust-free, it's for you. I clean as much for you as I do for me. You are worthy of a clean-house-welcoming.

Under(wear them anyway)!!!

Aurora was getting ready for the shower this evening and came out with this puzzled look on her face.

"Why do we have to wear underwear?" she asked me.

"It helps keep your clothes clean." I answered. She looked at me like I had grown antlers, or something. "But, you still have to wash our jeans after we wear them!" She paused, crossed her arms and pouted, "It just doesn't make any sense!"

"Aurora, you have to wear underwear every day, whether it makes sense, or not!" I shooed her out of the kitchen and told her to get into the shower.

Her logic is sound, but I couldn't come up with a good enough reason for her to think underwear is beneficial. Any takers?

Alligator Repellant

We were watching the TV on mute and Ryan saw a Lubriderm Men's commercial. You know, Lubriderm--the commercials with the alligator crawling off the bed? He looked at Rob and said, "Daddy, that's what guys put on their skin to keep the alligators away!"

Fashion Sense(less)

I like to think that I have good fashion sense--now, that is. I mean, I was teased a lot in middle school because I felt like I had to wear all the same color. It didn't have to be all the same shade, but just so long as my shoes, socks, pants and shirt could all be categorized "purple", I thought I was matching. My classmates used to call me "Clash" because of it. I guess that gene was passed on and multiplied in my children. What my middle school classmates can't see now is how eclectic my children are. Where I was monochromatic, my children love to mix genres--a la "Ugly Betty" style! Not that long ago, Aurora came out wearing the most hideous outfit I'd ever seen. Each individual piece of this outfit is fine, however, the conglomerate result was, well... Take a look!

That is a Santa and Reindeer Christmas sweater, a 60's print sundress underneath, her Dora the Explorer khaki pants, and neon orange socks. Yup. She thought that by putting a pony tail in her hair, she would look "sophisticated". When I told her that a pony tail wasn't going to help her outfit look better, she gave me this look--just as I was taking the photo!

Ryan got the gene, too! Just today I pulled out his shorts from last season. He desperately wanted to wear his kelly green basketball style shorts to church tonight. I put the brakes on that thought REAL quick! Trying to make sure my son looked semi-decent, I suggested a nice pair of khaki shorts to wear with a short-sleeved polo shirt. He was having none of that! Oh, no! He reconnected with his dinosaur outfit and insisted on wearing it. The results? Well, again, you'll see...

I had no idea that cowboys ran into dinosaurs out on the range... Did you? To further this atrocity, Ryan spilled BBQ sauce on his black and red shorts during dinner. When he changed, he put on a pair of chocolate brown shorts with his red and black dinosaur shirt and black boots. I'm not going to torture you with that image; you're going to have to conjure that one up all by your lonesome.

Yes, ladies and gents, I have screwed my children's fashion sense all up. It all began with a homely little girl and her lavender KEDS in middle school.