Mother Nature is having some serious weepy fits lately in my hometown. So much so that I cannot even get outside to take pictures of the new creek beds that have formed down my gravel road, cutting across and washing away half of my driveway and pooling there in that spot where we always turn our cars around. If I reverse into that area quickly and slam on my brakes *just so* I can generate a nice splishy-splash sound effect! At least, this morning that was true. Tomorrow morning, I’ll have to row my way up the hill because I’m pretty sure the van will be submerged by then.

New River Valley occupants, do I exagerate? I think  not. Back me up here.

In a more metaphorical sense, I am very much in over my head with stressful situations at work. I could write for days about the nuances of each source, how one feeds off the other etc etc yada yada but then I’d sound like every other blogger out there just griping about my day. And there’s also that whole ‘no details about work’ thing I try to maintain. But you know, some rules are made to be broken and if EVER there was a tidbit not typically heard on your average griping blog it would be this–the people I work with have the highest level of The Awesome. We are all clawing at the very fringe of our rope ends (it’s not just me, I realize), yet we try to maintain our spirits, enjoy our time, and still do the quality of work of which I am very proud.

*Sigh*

I don’t really know how to pull this post together. I’ve had a 17 hour day (so far!) and several (real sugar! Fully caffeinated!) Sweet Teas–not a good combo for coherence. I’ve been dumped on (water and work!) for most of the day! But oddly, I’m not sure I have as much a problem with those things as with my bounteous use of the exclamation point!

Eirene! and also anchor’s away!

Jen

The pint-sized energy sucking dynamo that *is* Fourthborn will be going on an extended weekend visit to her grandmother’s this weekend. There will be cousins involved! And swimming (weather permitting)! And a barnyard full of animals with which to bond!

There will also be a high probability of no nap times, and copious amounts of sugar. We might hear tell of a later than I thought possible bedtime. We just never really know how this is going to play out. Or how long it will take us to get her back in a routine once she comes home.

But the house is already suffering in the silence. We all beg the heavens for a break now and then, but this is harder on me than I expected. I haven’t inventoried myself in a while so I’m a little less self-aware regarding WHY this is not sitting well with me. But…I am hoping by just putting it out there I’ll start the discovery process!

The timing for this trip is good though. I have an inordinate amount of work-related stuff that I need to plow through and without TAZ around, I feel hopeful that I can knock it out. AND since I’ve been out of town a lot lately (last weekend and during the week this week on business) there is a long list of home-ownership trials and tribulations I can put myself through. Bonus: some of the older kids can actually participate and lighten the load for that list.

I’m pretty sure that’s the most boring holiday weekend plans I could dream up. This is my life right now, though. And as much as I feel I’m in the throws of a serious period of gruntwork, I know it could be so much worse. I also know it will get so much better in time.

Eirene,

Jen

A quiet weekend away

Nothing says “you’re cracked” like complaining for years about not getting any quiet time away from the family (just the two of you) and then being completely restless and weirded out by said quiet when you finally take that weekend away from home. Hubby was a good sport and let me run the blasted television nearly every minute of our hotel stay, but I doubt that I will live it down. And also? I had no idea how addictive HGTV can be.

Will the real Captain George please stand up?

One of the notorious stories in my extended family relates to a long-ago visit to Captain George’s Seafood Buffet. Long ago, like years before Hubs and I met. So while we were away, and we were near the place, we both thought it appropriate that Hubs be introduced to the restaurant. One of the things about this particular location that I did not remember about the other, favorite location, was that there was a very tall, very imposing man in Captain George’s costume. He walked around chatting with the guests cooly, lording over the serving lines yet very much ignoring all the service staff. And he freaked me out. Totally. Maybe he was too much character and not enough (my) reality? I’d always envisioned the captain being a man much like one of the guests…old, stumbly, scruffy and wearing ill fitting pants with suspenders. Quick to nab the elbow of a server or buffet worker and tell them that they are out of crab legs AGAIN. Let me tell you…the real Captain George would NEVER let that situation come up.

If I hear “white, protestant, land-owning male 21 years of age or older” one more time…

On our way into Colonial Williamsburg, Hubs asked me if I thought I’d like living in that time. I answered, yeah…sure! Think of how simple…no cell phone, no internet (no blog to keep up to date!), no email (and piles of it). A simple life, a simple existence. But then, as we toured, that idea went a kaput. I do not envision myself plucking the chicken I intend to cook for dinner. I do not believe I could happily mother my children in those ridiculously uncomfortable outfits, as I have enough of a problem doing so in sweats and t-shirts. I do not think that I am housewife or handmaid material, at least not without modern conveniences of laundry machinery and my new range. I like to bathe daily, too. And salt-cured meat is not always my favorite. BACON being the obvious exception. But I think the biggest cringe inducing phrase I heard over and over again was “white, protestant, land-owning male 21 years of age.” I realize it was a different time. But Ugh.  Moving on…

Rat-a-tat-tat. BOOM!

We happened to be there on a weekend where there were about 10 different Fife and Drum corps performing throughout the day. Secondborn and the Boy would’ve loved it and I really wish I had the video camera for the parade they did around mid-day:

And then there was the canon blast. After standing there waiting for The Perfect Photo Op for nearly 20 minutes in the noon-day sun, I missed the blast because…and this is really hysterical…I jumped. I knew it would go off, they gave me plenty of warning, I stood there camera-poised for an inordinate amount of time…but the best I got was this pic:

And that, dear friends, is a roundup of my weekend. Hope yours was great, too!

I was listening to the radio on Friday and the morning show was going over some facts and stats about Mother’s Day (highest sales of flowers, most long distance calls etc). What I did not hear on that list was how many mothers believe this day has it a little backwards.

I’m all for honoring my mother. For real, I believe I would do anything to help her and make her happy. She is the singular most influential person in my life. But I also believe she would agree with me on this one point:

Before the flowers and the handmade cards, before the attempts at breakfast in bed and spoiling me for the day…I have already been given four of the most beautiful gifts a  mother could want. And just about every day they are with me confirms that God must think very highly of me to entrust me with this particular group of blessings. Or (most likely) He knew that I couldn’t handle that task at all and would spend an inordinate amount of time turning their well-being over to Him in prayer. Whichever way you look at it, I praise Him for the utter privilege of being part of their lives.

Before this family of mine start honoring me, they need to be told, need to remember, need to believe that I am honored to be their mother.

Last time I asked us all to brainstorm ways we can extend a helping hand to those around us. Here’s something that came up that I thought I’d take a minute to encourage you to do.

Tomorrow, Saturday May 9 is National Stamp Out Hunger day.

Talk about a simple and painless way of helping those in your community… all you have to do is leave a bag of non-perishable foodstuffs at your mailbox!

If you are like me, you have a few cans of soup, maybe a stray package of noodle and rice side dishes, mac & cheese, and various and sundry canned fruits and veggies just sitting in your cabinet with no menu plans attached to them. It’s a simple task to grab as many of them as can fit in a plastic bag and hang them off your mailbox.

Thanks to the US Postal service, the food will be collected and distributed within the same region. You have the benefit of convenience and reap the rewards of generosity! As an added bonus, you might even get inspired to organize your pantry. Crazier things have happened.

If you want to donate more, or get involved in the distribution effort, check out the Feeding America website.

Love ya’ll,

Jen