She looked dead.  I mean she looked really dead.  Just lying by the feeder, legs sprawled awkwardly and her feathers all puffed up.  Her comb was colorless and her eyes were closed.  "Great," I thought.  "My first dead chicken."  As I threw the scraps to the other hens, she perked up and opened her eyes.  Resurrected!  But no, she did not get up.  When I tried to move her, her attempted walking was pitiful at best.  All lopsided and off balance.

I don’t deal well with dead animals.  Half dead animals are even worse because you can’t just bury them.  You either have to end it, or try to bring them back to life…

I called Charming who said he would deal with it when he got home.  Bury her.  Or end her suffering.  Probably both.  

Then I went to get the mail.  Went to have a chat with Celia, the mail lady as she delivered letters and ads to our row of mailboxes.  It’s election day today.  Well, I guess it’s Special Election Day today.  Our school district is pretty desperate to get some levies passed so we can have "extra" things like, I dunno, teachers and buses and stuff.  I sent my ballot in a while ago, so I wasn’t really thinking about it until Celia brought my attention to it.

"I hate to do this," she said as she put some letters in the box.

I looked.

It was 2 unstamped ballots that she was being forced to return.  Unstamped ballots that must be postmarked today in order for them to count.  My first thought was to run inside and grab stamps, but not wanting to waste Celia’s time, I chose another option.

I waited for her to leave and then I stole my neighbor’s mail.

I did.  I put stamps on them and hand delivered them to the post office myself.  I mean, the votes could have been "no" on the levies, that is very possible.  But I figure anyone willing to vote in a special election is either voting yes or has a very strong opinion about it and their ballot should be counted.  And if it chanced to be a yes vote we need it to be counted!  Had my neighbors gotten home at 4:30 or 5 it would have been too late.  Maybe they wouldn’t even check their mail…  I had to do it.  I really had no choice you see.

What would you have done?

And what would you have done with the sick dying 80% dead chicken?

I put on rubber gloves and put her on the grass to feel her last bit of life on the free range lawn.  I waited until Charming got home, sent him out to investigate, he chopped off her head and buried her.  (According to him, he also held a small memorial service).  Engineer took the news like a man, and the girls bawled.  I still don’t know how I feel about it.  I don’t love those chickens all that much, but our little flock just got smaller and the other chickens don’t seem to care.  I fed her, I held her when she was a fluff ball, I ate her eggs…

And she is gone.  My once fluffy chick is gone.  And I feel like a criminal for not trying to make her well again, for taking the easy way out… or maybe that feeling comes from the federal offense I committed today.

Engineer has a best friend.  He rides the bus with this best friend everyday.  He invites his friend to Musikgarten parties he has planned himself and his friend is the only guest.  He makes Valentines for his friend and signs for his bedroom door that say no one is allowed in  but her.

Yes I said her.  His best friend is a girl.  You may know her as Laylee.  He’s pretty much thought she was awesome since they were both 18 months old.

Today Engineer gave Laylee a "Valentine" he wrote himself just before music class.  It said: 

Dear Laylee,

You are my best friend.  You know all my voices.  I like you.  

Love, 

Engineer

(The voices refers to a silly game they play in class where they disguise their voices, Laylee can pick Engineer everytime.  But I am pretty sure everyone else can too.)

Instead of just getting in the car, when I went to pick her up Laylee for the music class carpool today, Laylee stood at the van window and made faces at Engineer while I chatted with the daring one.  She was all smiles and laughs when she finally did get in her seat.  I don’t know if Laylee considers my son her best friend, but she seems to have fondness for him and they have a good time together.  Her devotion goes so far as to stand up for him when there is trouble.

The other day Engineer was being teased (though mildly) on the bus.  The way Laylee tells it, both she and Engineer made the "eye signals" at the bullies and when that didn’t work Laylee told them to "Stop that right now!  We do not appreciate the way you are behaving!"  She then shielded his head, from what I don’t know, perhaps just the noise.  I wasn’t happy about the teasing when I heard this story, but I was glad to see he has a courageous friend.

As I drove them to music class and listened to their chatter in the backseat I was reminded of Forrest Gump and Jenny. I started thinking how Laylee and Engineer are a little bit like them.   He’s a little awkward, she sits with him on the bus.  He is hopelessly devoted.  She is protective of him.  Minus the abusive parents, the Alabama heat and the box of chocolates they are totally the same set of peas and carrots.

Totally.

And then I heard Laylee say the funniest thing that perfectly timed with my thoughts.  Engineer was explaining that when two vowels go walking the first one does the talking.  To which Laylee said, "yes but my name is spelled ay, if it was the other way then I would be Lyalee,"  and she said it with the cutest, unintentional Southern accent that I just had to giggle.

I hope they stick together.

As you may already know, I have a bit of a tummy pooch that I don’t care for.  I’ve accepted it, embraced it into my life and my physique and I have come to understand its special quirks.  Each night before I go to bed, the pooch is in fine form.  Very chubby, very poochy, full of the days foods, the pooch is happy. 

I wake up each morning thin like a supermodel.

Well, okay, that’s an exaggeration.  But the pooch is smaller!  I feel thin after a night’s digestion.  It is glorious and I often strut around half nude in the morning in front of a mirror to relish in my svelteness.  

Only this morning, the pooch was not shrunken– it was firm and "poochy".  I put my jeans on.  Tighter.  Meh.  So I did what any sensible woman in her childbearing years would do– I took a pregnancy test.  Why?  Because whenever something isn’t quite right or explainable, pregnancy is the default explanation.  Don’t believe me?  Just ask my newlywed sister.  Anytime she even thought bubbles the words fatigue, dizzy, or sick people automatically start asking her if she’s pregnant.

I’ve had lots of weird and unexplainable symptoms in the past little while.  Exhaustion.  An oddly light menstrual period.  I can’t breathe when I walk up the little hill to the bus.  So it is fitting that I’ve taken about five pregnancy tests in the past two weeks.  They’ve all been negative of course, because the default explanation isn’t always the correct diagnosis, but it is the default so you’ve got to check that one first.  But anyway…

So back to this morning.  Poochy belly, negative test, tight jeans.  I went downstairs to put on a hat and guess what?  Loose.  Tight jeans, big hat, out of breath.  Can anyone explain that?

I think all my common sense and reason left my head and went straight into the pooch.

"Here Mommy, write on this notepad," he says handing me a pen and my checkbook.

"Son!" I reply.  "That’s not just an ordinary notepad, you don’t just take any old kind of notes on it!"

"But I need money for school lunch!" he says back, demonstrating that he does know what this little "notepad" can do.  But still, I advise him not to play with it, write his lunch money check and consider things taught and taken care of.

In this day and age of credit cards, checkbooks and cash, it’s no wonder kids are confused about money.  Heck, some adults don’t fully understand it. And while it’s kind of fun watching them try to figure it all out, teaching them about money seems a little daunting to me. At this point we just try to take advantage of every teaching moment we can.

While in the car the other day, Engineer was whining about how everyone had a watch but him.  With Christmas still looming in the background, we were in no hurry to rush to the stores to spoil him, so we told him he could save his money and buy one himself.   This did not go over well.  But we talked about ways he could get more money.  We gave him suggestions of things he could do– sell his toys, do extra chores, etc.

"Hey," he says. "We can just go to the bank and get money!"

Well, yes we could.

"Or! We can go to the store and give them money and they will give us more money back!"

Yeah…

Clearly, our seven year old is not ready for investment strategies, or even his own check book.  But we are trying to teach him the concept of saving.  The kids decided a couple of months ago that they wanted to got to the Bahamas for vacation and we suggested they start saving for it.  Well, thanks to the movie UP and the Paradise Falls money jar, Engineer started his own Bahamas jar.  (He was tempted to dip into it for the watch purchase, we advised against it).  Anyhow, he puts his change in there from birthdays, the tooth fairy and his eventual allowance, and he keeps it on the dresser in his room.  When we go on our trip in May, we’ll let him buy a tie-dye shirt– or maybe popcorn at the rate he’s going…

The point of my post really is this, a little something I found tonight in his Bahamas Jar:

 Yes, he too was noticing the slow growth of his money jar and decided to amp it up a little.  What cracks me up is that he wrote the check for 1000 cents.  Yep.  A mere ten bones.  But I think he felt like 1000 was more than 10, so he was hopeful.

I guess we aren’t done talking about what not to do with Mommy’s checkbook.  At least he doesn’t think it grows on trees.  It just lives and breeds at the bank.

I can remember very distinctly praying for snow as a child.  Once when I prayed for snow, the snow fell the very next day and I was so grateful to Heavenly Father and I just knew He had heard my pleas.  Of course, my dad who had to drive through mountain passes that day was not as thrilled with my blessing from above, but anyway…

It’s been a pretty snowless winter thus far.  Last year we had two feet of snow and were snowed in for a couple weeks and my kids just ate it up!  I got a little sick of it, but in some ways it beats the rain.  Anyway, the lack of winter whiteness has been cause for some serious distress for at least one of my children.

In the car the other day (while it was raining, surprise, surprise) Engineer says, "Mom!  This is my favorite season and it hasn’t even snowed!"  He was seriously upset and so as a teaching moment about prayer, I suggested he start asking Heavenly Father for snow.

And now all my children are sending snow requests heavenward on a daily basis.

Engineer: "Dear Heavenly Father, Please, please let it snow this weekend.  Please let it snow either today (Friday) or Saturday.  If you don’t, I am going to have to let it snow in Sunday."  He then informed Charming that if it didn’t snow in 2010, not even December, the he himself was going to "let it" snow in 2011.

Sugar: "Dear Heavenly Father, Please, please, please let it snow TOMORROW.  I really want it to snow, and my brother REALLY, REALLY wants it to snow.  If you let it snow I will be so happy for the great you have done for me." (No I didn’t forget a word, she really just used great as a noun).

Spider: Verbatim Sugar’s prayer.

Well for their sake, I hope Heavenly Father is listening and will grant their petitions.  I wouldn’t mind a break from the rain.  And if all else fails, we can take them up to the pass and go tubing in the mountain snow.  Don’t know if that will be good enough, but hey, I like tubing.

This post is brought to you courtesy of 2010. 

It’s a new year everyone.  Time to reflect on the resolutions we made last year and those we will commit to this year.  Hmm… commit.  Every year when I look at my resolutions from the previous year, I see a common theme– the theme is not just lack of completion of the goal, oh no– the theme is that I resolve to do the same things, year after year after year and I never quite seem to accomplish them.  I don’t know if it is a  lack the desire for the particular goals or if I simply lack the focus to accomplish them.  I’d like to think that for some goals, I have made a little progress, but on some things I know I have not. 

Hmm… progress.

I see the same issue in my children– or maybe it is more in myself.  They seem to struggle with the same things through the years, though most grievances appear to dissolve with age rather than discipline.  It makes me wonder if it is simply our destiny to work through the same problems our entire lives…

Right now we are having issues with our seven year old son (Engineer) and his lack of respect for Charming and I, and he has a few other emotional explosion issues as well. The biggest frustration for me in all of this is his lack of progress.  It suddenly occurred to me the other day that if we can’t nip this back talking at seven years old, we are going to be REALLY dealing with it when he’s 15.  But how long should it take?  Why is he not getting better?

One frustrating aspect is that his teachers all see the issue with him in class at the beginning of the year,and within a few weeks he makes great improvements.  But his behavior at home stays pretty consistent.  It annoys me because I know he is capable of making progress, but somehow won’t prove that to me.

I think a common parenting error is to change tactics too soon– creating inconsistency for the child and frustration for the parent.  But at what point do you have to change your system?  Because sometimes it aint working.  It’s a question I wish had an easy answer, but I suppose when I decided to become a parent, I didn’t sign up for EASY.  

I mean, I don’t want to use the same system for the next 10 years only to discover we have ruined our child.  But maybe, for this particular child, it’s going to take that long anyway…  He might just take after his mom– slow to progress….  I just wish I knew the exact, right tactics to turn out the perfect child.  Where’d that dang instruction manual get to?

I love the lolcats.  And here is one of my own lol kitteh’s in the Christmas Tree.  Little Neji.

Christmas is more fun with kittens.

My Christmas decorations didn’t go up until a couple of days ago.  If I had my every wish granted my husband would have done all of it in the days after Thanksgiving, whilst I was away participating in intense dress rehearsal and performances of a musical version of A Christmas Carol.  But as it turns out, he really could care less about such things so holiday decorating was delayed.

Since we moved to the rainy place the indoor and the outdoor Holiday Decorating have been up to me.  I’ve asked Charming to do the outside lights, but quite frankly with the freezing temperatures we’ve had around here, no one really wants to go stand outside and hang lights just to have to take them down in a couple weeks.  (Or months with the way it goes around here).  I really want them done, but finally today, I decided that Christmas will come and be joyous whether my house sparkles at night or not.

I have decided that the extent of my outdoor decorating will be taking the pumpkins off the porch.

Christmas is going simple this year.  Thanks to Black Friday and Le Internet, most of my shopping is finished, so the next few weeks can be spent listening to Nat and Bing whilst sipping cocoa and occasionally making cookies. There are all kinds of cool Christmas activities that are going on around the area, and I think we are NOT going to go.  There’s a live nativity down the street next week we might make it to and a neighborhood that does cool lights we will drive around one night and that will probably be the extent of our extracurriculars.  We are going to stay cozy and calm. 

We didn’t even go see Santa because the kids didn’t want to, we didn’t want to make them and I had a show that day.  (Free pictures too, in town and we opted OUT).

And the good news is, I am finally over the fact that summer ended.  I can now get into the Christmas spirit.  Bring on the snow!

I’m sitting here in front of my laptop in my pajamas eating chocolates I don’t want to eat.  I am cold.  The weather website says it 22 degrees outside and feels like 22 degrees.  I think it feels like hell froze over degrees.

I’m wishing I could eat the whole jar of gummy vitamins.  They taste so good.  I limit myself to my allotted two and get a mandarin orange.  Satsumas are so much better than the big oranges.  Big oranges are too hit and miss and I don’t care for them at all.

Where did summer go?  

Why am I blogging right now?  Oh yeah, to keep blogher ads from leaving, which is silly, because I have so few readers that I can’t even remember the last time I got a check.

I bought a scarf yesterday to wear to our family pictures but then I ended up not wearing because a sweater I ordered came in the mail and I wore that instead.  I wonder if i should take the scarf back?  No, I kind of like it and it is very festive.

Hmm.  I wish we had our Christmas tree up.  I wish secret elves would clean and decorate in the night.

I should probably go feed the chickens now.  See if any of them froze in the night.  They look alive from here– sitting by the door waiting for their food.  I bet their water is frozen.  Perhaps they could lick the frost off the grass.  Do chickens even have tongues?

Dress rehearsal tonight.  I love being in a musical.  Sometimes I wish people randomly burst into song and dance in real life.  Oh wait.  I sometimes do. Only at home though.  And I am quite the rockstar if I do say so myself.

Oh are you still reading?  I could keep going on and on… But I should probably get dressed.  Though it is too cold to remove clothing.  After all it is 22 degrees out there.  I feel like a popsicle. (Like I am one, not that I want to eat one… well maybe a warm one…)

I’ve never had too difficult of a time administering medicine to my two oldest children.  For whatever reason, perhaps taste? they love the stuff.  Tylenol?  Bring it on.  Amoxycillin?  Gimme the thick pink stuff.  Only recently has Engineer started denying the tonic for fear that it would force admittance of illness.  But for the most part, Sugar and Engineer are easy peasy medicine takers.

Spider is a different story.

The medicine could taste like chocolate cake and she would probably refuse it.

This is of course annoying when she falls ill, but highly beneficial when others are sick.

For example, I have been sick with a hacking coughy plague for a couple of weeks now.  Used tissues and cough drops are abundant around here.  When Spider sees a lozenge, she immediately asks what it is.  When I tell her it is my medicine she leaves it be.  She talks about it often, but never tries to taste it.  Now were it Sugar who was three years old right now, half tasted cough drops would be all over my house right now in addition to my snot filled kleenex that hasn’t quite made it to the bin yet.

She sure is an easy kid.

That said, I sure wish no one around here needed any medicine right now.  Though Spider is extra cuddly when she doesn’t feel good.