Plumbing, computers, jobs, donkeys, and a $40 Visa card

How's that for a title?

A lot has happened this week so I thought I would write a quick update post with all of these topics mish-mashed together.

Plumbing
I arrived home on Tuesday evening to see a pool of water on our dining room floor - it had leaked from somewhere in the bathroom through the ceiling. I instantly had visions of my house torn apart, mold, water, ickyness, and money flying out of our bank account. Thankfully it was a relatively easy fix. I do have a hole in my dining room ceiling, but that won't be terribly difficult (or costly) to fix. Thank you, Lord!

Computer
Mike's computer crashed last night. We're still waiting to hear back from the computer place to see if they can recover all of this files. This is the laptop he uses for all of his business stuff, so he's just a *tad* stressed about it.

Job
I have a job interview on Wednesday! It's at the same place that I've worked for the past 3.5 years but it would be a move to a different department AND a promotion.

Donkeys
We drove down to Mike's Grandpa's house for a visit on Saturday. The man amazes me - he is 81 years old and still farms. Can you believe that? We haven't seem him since Christmas and it was fun to see him interact with Kaitlyn now that she's a little older. After lunch we went outside to see the donkeys. Grandpa fed them sugar cubes while Kaitlyn stood and watched. I think the donkeys enjoyed looking at her almost as much as she enjoyed looking at them.

Visa Card
The HR department here at work sponsored a "winter fitness challenge" that went from the end of January to the beginning of April. I don't really feel any fitter (not really a word, but I don't care) now than I was in January, but the challenge did motivate me to get on the treadmill and get moving. All of the fitness partcipants were invited a lunch today where they handed out some awards, and lo and behold, my team won an award! Each of us got a $40 Visa card! WOOHOO! I'm still not quite sure why we won the award, but do I care? No! Now I need to decide how to spend my money, which will probably take me about two weeks of careful analysis. :-)

And there you have it. Any suggestions for how I should spend my money??

Because a diva is still a diva, even on a sick day

On Monday I stayed home from work because Kaitlyn was still running a fever. She also had no appetite and was very lethargic. She slept for about six hours during the day, and in between her naps it was apparent that she didn't know exactly what she wanted.

She would want up, so I'd pick her up. Then she wanted down. Then she wanted up again. But not up on my lap - up on the couch so she was sitting beside me. Then she wanted to lay down. Then she wanted her book. But having a book while you are laying down (on your stomach) isn't really a good plan, which led to frustration. So she would then want to sit up.

And round and round it went.

Then she arrived at a place where she was adamantly demanding something from the coffee table. She kept pointing, and grunting, and saying something I couldn't understand. After I picked up every single object that was on the coffee table (and we had collected quite an assortment of snacks, books, toys, etc.), and after she shook her head "no" to each one, I finally realized that she wanted her sunglasses. (Which were on the end table, NOT the coffee table. Sheesh!)

She was running a fever, and she wanted her sunglasses. Of course - why didn't I think of that sooner??

I was so relieved to finally know what she wanted, and hoped that her attitude would improve. I put the sunglasses on her, and managed to take this picture:


About .05 seconds after the picture was taken, the meltdown began.

She wanted to wear her sunglasses while laying on her side. Sunglasses + putting your head on a pillow = not comfortable + major temper tantrum.

She kicked, she screamed, she cried. She thrashed around. What's a mother to do??

About three minutes into the tantrum I took the glasses away from her. I said, "I know you want them, but you aren't going to be comfortable wearing them. They are NOT going to do what you want them to do, so I'm putting them away."

As you might guess, this didn't go over very well. She basically clawed her way over to where I put them and threw even MORE of a tantrum in an effort to get them back.

So I sighed a deep sigh and gave them back. She was quiet for about .5 seconds, and then she tried to lay down again. [Insert great weeping and gnashing of teeth. From both of us.]

Normally I would have put her in time out. But it just doesn't seem fair to put a 20-month-old who has a fever and is obviously not feeling good, into a time out. I figured this was one of those moments as a parent where I just had to weather the storm, and in the end she would tire herself out.

I also figured that I might as well try attempt #2 at taking away the sunglasses. If she was going to tire herself out she needed to be able to eventually lay down, and she couldn't do that with her sunglasses on. (She likes to lay on her side or her stomach.) This, of course, was met with an increased amount of weeping and gnashing of teeth.

She did, as I predicted, eventually tire herself out. Then she slept for three hours.

And I caught up on my recorded episodes of "Top Chef" and "America's Next Top Model." So all in all, in ended up being a productive day. ;-D

MPM - Week of 4/21/08

Better late than never, right??

Menu for week of 4/21/08

Monday: Roast, potatoes and carrots in slow cooker
Tuesday: Up for grabs
Wednesday: Chicken and rice in slow cooker (see below for recipe)
Thursday: Grilled chicken and pasta salad
Friday: Up for grabs
Saturday: Out of town
Sunday: Out of town

Chicken & Wild Rice Casserole
(a recipe from Sandy H., passed on to me by my sister Andrea)

1 Chicken, cut in pieces
1 box (small) Uncle Ben's Wild Rice
1 can mushrooms (w/ juice)
1 pkg. slivered almonds
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 can water
Butter*

Combine soups, almonds, rice and 1 can of water. Stir in 1/2 of the rice seasoning pack. Put in a 9x13 dish. Melt some butter to dip chicken pieces in*, then lay the chicken on top of the rice mixture. Sprinkle with remaining 1/2 of seasoning pack. Bake at 250 degrees for 2.5-3 hours - do not cover.

OR... follow directions above but place in a slow cooker and cook on low for 7-8 hours.

*I leave the butter step out to save a few calories. (Forgive me, Pioneer Woman!)

Visit OrgJunkie.com for more menu ideas.

Understanding the other perspective

I stayed home from church today because Kaitlyn is running a slight fever. With her sleeping quietly beside me I decided to get online and read some blogs. Shannon at Rocks in my Dryer had a link to this post, "How I Became Pro-Life," and that post had a link to another post with the same name, from another blogger.

Reading the thoughts of these two women has been incredibly insightful. Both posts are quite long but I encourage you read them - it is well worth it.

The best and the worst

The best moment of the last 24 hours:
Laying in bed with Kaitlyn early this morning and having her look at me and say "I love you!" as she leaned in for a kiss. Can it get any better?

The worst moment of the last 24 hours:
Stepping out of the car yesterday evening and feeling something squishy under my foot, then looking to see that I had stepped on a dead frog. YUCK.

Car accidents: Part I

I am pleased to bring you the first of three stories about car accidents I have been in.

The first accident took place in July 1999, when I was living in Nashville. It was the summer between my junior and senior years of college, and I was living with three other girls from my college while doing an internship with a small event planning company.

Well, ok, actually, the first two weeks of the summer Brooke and I lived in the apartment of her fiancee. That was quite the experience. He played the keyboard for Carman. (Yeah, that Carman. Remember The Champion, Radically Saved and Satan, Bite the Dust?) The one memory that really sticks out about those two weeks is the time we ran out of toilet paper. 'Nuf said.

After two weeks of bachelor hell we finally landed an apartment. Since three of us were only there for the summer we didn't bring any furniture with us. We slept on air matresses, had a turquoise blow-up couch (sort-of like the barbie furniture I used to have, only slightly bigger), a few lawn chairs, and a crate that held the TV. Looking back on this experience I realize how much I probably increased my mother's prayer life during this time. I was oblivious to the horror of it all because I was in Nashville. I was finally living out my dream of the past 12 years - I was living in Nashville and had an internship planning special events within the Christian music industry.

I also had a terrible part-time job at a small record label, owned by a guy who used to play guitar for Prince. [Perhaps an alternate title for this post could have been "Name Dropping, Part I." Although I'm not sure that Carman and Prince are names that qualify for the good type of name dropping, where people hear it and think "oooh - you must be special to know people who know those people!" They might be more along the lines of "Hmmmm - maybe I shouldn't associate with you anymore."] He and his wife were nice, but the job just did NOT work out. I finally got up the guts to say, "Hey, this isn't working out" which left me without a job. My internship was not paid so a job was mildly important.

On July 2nd (or maybe it was the 3rd?) I had an appointment with a temporary staffing service to see if I could get a job through them. I got into my cute little Neon Expresso - it was black, had two doors, a spoiler and a sunroof, and was dang fun to drive - and went off to the agency. My appointment was in the afternoon and I didn't have time to eat any lunch because, as usual, I was running late. I arrived at the agency where someone explained to me that they had lots of positions available working as a customer service rep at a call center.

Translation: I would have to work crazy hours and talk to disgruntled customers. My job would be a last ditch effort to try and talk them into staying with the company, which might be met with a teensy bit of resistance and a few a choice four-letter words.

If I had not been a naive college student at the time I would have said, "No thanks. Do you have any other positions available?" Instead, I stayed for at least another hour so I could take a test that would determine if I was competent enough to be a customer service rep.

By the time I got done I was frustrated, tired, and HUNGRY. I left the agency and headed back towards the apartment, stopping at Arby's on the way. I got a roast beef sandwich, curly fries, and a drink. I couldn't wait to get home so I could devour them. I got into the turn lane to make the left turn onto the road that would lead me home.

Now, this particular light had a green arrow for left turns, but it wasn't a "turn left on the green arrow ONLY" light. So the light was green (but not the arrow) and I moved out into the intersection in anticipation of the traffic clearing, giving me a chance to turn.

The light turned yellow, and I was in the middle of the intersection so I knew that I had to make the turn. I waited for the oncoming traffic to stop before I completed the turn. And that's when the big, black truck from Texas decide to try and run the light. He was behind another car (which was in the process of stopping) and swerved out to charge through the intersection. Except that he charged through my car instead.

He hit my passenger door and sent me flying through the intersection. I smacked into another car and came to a stop.

My first thought was, "OH MY WORD!!!!!!"

My second thought (as I was trying to catch my breath) was, "I wonder what internal bleeding feels like..."

My third thought was, "Well, crap. There goes my sandwich and curly fries."

I took mental stock of all of my limbs and organs and decided I was doing ok. A paramedic showed up at my window and asked if I was ok. I suddenly doubted whether or not I really was ok.

I was afraid that, even though I felt ok, I would get home and discover that my back was broken or I had some type of internal injury that would cause my kidneys to explode. Not very realistic, but what did I know? I had been living in an empty apartment where I would sit on a blow-up couch to watch a TV that sat on an old crate, and I'd been sleeping on air matress for six weeks. I really wasn't in any position to judge where I fell on the spectrum of being "ok."

Since I didn't have a cell phone to call my parents and get a second opinion about whether or not I was "ok", I decided to err on the side of caution. The paramedic asked if I wanted to go to the hospital. I said, "Sure," almost as if he had asked me to run down to McDonald's for an ice cream cone. (At this point in my life I had no concept of hospital bills or insurance rates. I was so blissfully unaware!!)

At that exact moment he said, "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to keep your head straight."

"Excuse me?" (I still had my head turned, looking at him, wondering who he was calling "Ma'am.")

"Please look straight ahead."

"Um, can I get out of the car?"

"No. Stay right there and look straight ahead."

Within a few seconds a stretcher appeared. Then came the body board and the neck brace. First, the paramedic carefully put the neck brace on me. Then they had to slide the body board into the car and slide me onto it, then heave me onto the stretcher. I thought, "Dear Jesus, what have I gotten myself into? I want to get checked out, but is this really necessary??"

And please remember, it was all happening in the middle of a very busy intersection during rush hour traffic.

So I'm laying there (or lying there? I can never remember the rule on this...) as they strap me down. I couldn't see anything aside from the clear blue sky, because the neck brace prevented me from turning my head. They wheeled me into the ambulance.

This is when I also paused to wonder if I had put on clean underwear that morning. (I'm pretty sure I had.)

And then, they drove me 1/10 of a mile up the hill to the hospital. I think it took them longer to get me all strapped down than it did to drive to the hospital. See the picture below? Point A = the scene of the accident. Point B = the hospital drive where we turned in to go to the emergency room.

I'm not sure how much that short little drive cost my dad.

It turned out that I didn't have any broken limbs, or internal bleeding, or potential for exploding kidneys. I did have a seatbelt burn and a monster bruise on my leg, along with some cuts from the shattered passenger window that came flying in at me. The saddest thing of all (aside from the lost sandwich and fries) is that my sweet little Neon was totalled.

Thankfully, my parents were already planning to drive down the next day to visit me. I don't know what I would have done if they hadn't rescued me! They decided to give me their car, which was a snazzy Dodge Dynasty. (Yeah, I know you're jealous.) They rented a car for the drive home and bought a different car soon after (which they had already been talking about doing.)

I was also thankful that a police officer had been sitting in traffic at the very intersection where I had the accident and he witnessed the whole thing. While I was partially at fault for trying to turn left on a red light, he saw that the other guy was more at fault for gunning through the intersection. I'm not sure if it made a difference on the insurance paperwork (once again, thanks Dad for taking care of me!) but it probably would have been worse had he not witnessed it.

I finished out the summer and determined to never sleep on an air matress again. After finishing college I moved back to Nashville, to a better apartmet, and ended up with a much better job. But I was still driving the Dynasty. That car traveled with me to Jacksonville, Florida; Louisville, Kentucky; Fresno, California; and Dallas, Texas. It died one day in the parking lot of a gas station near Park Cities Baptist Church in Dallas. And that, my friends, is another story for another day.

Moral of the story: Never pull into the intersection while waiting to make a left turn at a light. And avoid big, black trucks from Texas.

I'm still here!

Really, I am. I'm just having a mojo problem, which I'm now wondering if it's a hormone problem. (Last mojo problem = one month ago. You do the math.)

In the past three days I've started about five different posts, and get the first sentence out and then BAM! My mind explodes in a fireworks display of thoughts. I scurry in various directions trying to follow a thought only to have it disappear in thin air. Off I go to another thought, and the same thing happens. Then I get tired and give up, and wonder if maybe I'm going crazy.

And in case you are concerned, my family is eating this week despite my lack of a "Menu Plan Monday" post. My menu (like my thoughts) is a little scattered, but noone is going hungry.

I hope to return sometime soon to bring you another story from The Chex Mix Chronicles, titled "Car Accidents: Part 1."

Parenting a virtuous child - is it possible??

Hearing about the girl who got beat up by her "friends", who then posted the whole thing on YouTube, makes me fear for my parenting future. What in the name of Heaven lies down the road for me as a mom? It's just plain scary. How will I ever make it through? Will I be able to raise my kids to live a life of virtue in the midst of such depravity? How will I walk the fine line of teaching them how to be in the world, but not of the world? How do I teach them to make wise choices and stand on their own, while at the same time, creating appropriate boundaries and limits?

Oy vey.

[Side note: I am not pregnant. My reference to "kids" and "them" are due to our plan to have at least one more child at some point in the future.

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming...]

This week I came across this blog and I have been eagerly absorbing it. I even went back to the oldest post and have been reading through the archives. Can I tell you how encouraged I am?? I can? Great! I AM SO ENCOURAGED!!

Whew - thanks for letting me get that out.

The author of the blog is Vicki Courtney, founder of Virtuous Reality Ministries and author of lots of books. She's also been on CNN, Fox News, and CNN Headline News to discuss issues impacting teens (and the parents of teens.) Here is an excerpt of an email I sent to Vicki's ministry earlier today:

I have a precious baby girl who is 18 months old, and even before I got pregnant I knew that parenting would be a challenge considering the day and age in which we live. I've already started to dread the future and brace myself for the battles that lie ahead, where my husband and I will probably be the awful, horrible, strict, and living-in-the-dark-ages parents. I never worried that we would be fighting this battle alone - I know lots of godly parents who are currently fighting and will continue to fight - but I did feel an overwhelming helplessness, not knowing exactly how to fight.

Vicki's words have served as a rally cry for me. A place to start. An instruction manual for war. I feel like I am donning my camoflage, surveying the enemy territory, and mapping out my battle plan. In a time where the media and our culture want to put down my standards and parenting philosophies, it is so refreshing to have a public voice actually affirming me. Telling me to stand strong, don't give up, what you are doing is right. ... I suddenly feel capable of doing this. I feel that I can raise my daughter (and future children) to lead a virtuous life. It's possible. I don't have to give up before I start.

If you are a parent, or hope to be a parent some day, or even if you are a person of influence in a kid's life, I encourage you to visit Vicki's blog. The main part of her ministry focuses on the challenges of being/raising a teen girl, but it is applicable to raising girls and boys of any age.

Here is a post that made me outraged, but is very eye-opening to what is out there to entice young girls.

Here is a post that made me smile, and reminded me to be thankful for the stage I'm in.

Here is the very first archived post, which gives an awesome example of what I mentioned before - living the fine line between being in the world but not of it, and teaching kids to make good decisions while also being wise about establishing boundaries and limits.

Here are Vicki's thoughts on the situation I mentioned at the beginning, about the video on YouTube showing a teen girl getting beat up.

I could continue posting examples, but maybe you should just head on over to Virtue Alert and discover your own favorite posts.

WFMW - Using the lint roller

On Sunday as I walking around the house, getting ready for our open house, I was in the dining room and bent down to pick something up when I noticed crumbs under the table. LOTS of crumbs. They had somehow missed the reach of the broom from the sweep up we had done the night before. Grrr.

I looked up and happened to see the lint roller. I grabbed it and used it to quickly "sweep" up the crumbs. It worked beautifully! I then carried it around the house and used it to touch up other areas - floors, window sills, and other miscellaneous surfaces.

Another great use for this is to pick up that last little line of dirt that I can never get onto the dust pan. We have lots of wood floors in our house so I use the broom and dust pan a lot, and there is always that last stubborn little bit of dirt that refuses to get on board. Now I can just roll it right up with the lint roller - woohoo!

I got on the 3M site and found this page with other creative uses for a lint roller. If you have others to share, I would love to hear them!

For more Works For Me Wednesday tips and ideas, visit Rocks in my Dryer.

How the Sticky Chicken almost got the best of me

A few weeks ago, while perusing various blogs that participate in Menu Plan Monday, I found this recipe for "sticky chicken" on the menu of THREE different bloggers. I was amazed, especially since I had only visited five or six sites. I thought that maybe I'd have to give it a try sometime. The next week, whole chickens went on sale at Meijer, and I knew it was destiny. It was time to make the sticky chicken.

I purchased my whole chicken, and even though I was pretty sure I had some onions in the pantry, I picked up another onion just in case. It's a good thing I did. Have you ever seen what happens to onions when you leave them in the pantry and forget about them for, oh, four weeks? I should have taken a picture, because it was very interesting. Interesting, but not exactly appetizing. So purchasing a new onion turned out to be a great idea.

According to the recipe the sticky chicken needs to be seasoned and stuffed with the onion and refrigerated overnight. And then cooked in the oven for five hours. Which means that it has to be a weekend recipe. [Side note - next time I'm going to try this in the Crock Pot.] On Saturday, in the midst of my cleaning frenzy to prepare for our open house, I realized that I had a thawed out chicken in my refrigerator and if I had any hope of actually using it before it went bad, I had to get that sucker seasoned and stuffed.

I assembled the ingredients and mixed my spices together. I quartered the onion. I pulled the chicken out of the fridge. That's when reality hit - I had to open this bird up and pull out the gizzard. And wash the outside and the inside. Yuck. I've done that sort of thing before (twice, I think) but still, it's gross.

That's when I also started thinking about the logistics of handling a big, slimy, raw chicken. I emptied out the sink, meaning that I had to put a few dishes on the counter which was already crowded with my roasting pan with the chicken, my cutting board with the onions, and my bowl of spices.

What ensued would have made a great "I Love Lucy" episode.

I unwrapped the chicken and did a twister-like move to get the dripping wrapper into the trash behind me, while maintaining a handle on the chicken. I tried to take my mind to a happy place and not think about the whole chicken in my hands, and the gizzard I had to extract. The inside of the chicken was still a little frozen, so I turned on some water to try and loosen up the ice. This made the chicken all the more slimy, and we went a few rounds before I could pry the gizzard out and do another spectacular twister move to put that sucker in the trash.

I craned my neck around to the counter behind me where I had put the recipe, which (of course) was upside down. [Note to self: take more time to plan ahead the next time I mess with a raw chicken.] That's when I decided to wing it. (Ha! Wing it!)

I attempted to put the slimy bird into the roasting pan. In one split second, this scene from Everybody Loves Raymond flashed through my mind and I was absolutely certain that I was going to drop the chicken and send it sliding across the floor and down the basement steps.

I imagined the bird shattering in several pieces at the bottom of the steps and flying into different corners of the basement. Now, I realize that a chicken probably would not shatter. But in one irrational split second when your imagination runs wild, anything is possible. I also envisioned having to apologize to our realtor the next day. "Sorry about the funky chicken smell. I tried to retrieve all of the pieces, but I'm missing a leg. After two hours I gave up looking for it. Can you follow people around with this can of Lysol and discretely spray it when you have the opportunity?" Thankfully this imaginary scenario stayed imaginary, because the chicken made it into the pan.

I started to rub it with the spices. I don't have much experience with rubs, and maybe I'm missing out on the proper technique, but I'm pretty sure that most of the spices ended up caked on my slimy hands instead of on the chicken. By this time I wanted to be done with the whole sordid affair so I moved on to the "stuff the quartered onion into the cavity of the chicken" part of the recipe. I think it was at this point, as I was wrestling with the raw chicken in one hand and a quartered onion in the other, that Mike poked his head into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm. Making. STICKY. CHICKEN!!"

"Oh." [Mike quickly exits. I probably looked like I might come after him with the intention of stuffing the raw onion somewhere else.]

Remove gizzard - check.
Wash chicken, inside and out - check.
Rub with spices - check.
Stuff with onion - check.
Wrap chicken tightly with plastic wrap, or put in a large plastic bag... hmmm.

I carefully weighed the pros and cons of plastic wrap vs. plastic bag. I decided to go with the plastic bag. As I prepared to make the transer, I had another split second vision of the chicken disappearing down the basement steps (now with seasoning and stuffed with onion), but thankfully it made it into the bag. A bag that now had seasoning all over the outside. It's a miracle that bird still had seasoning on it when I finally put it in the oven!

When all was said and done, this chicken was delicious. I baked it on Sunday evening, reheated it for dinner last night, and will use it again tonight to make chicken quesadillas. Despite my adventures, I will put this in the "keeper" recipe file. (Along with a note to have a better assembly plan.)

The moral of the story: Do not try new recipes with whole chickens on days that you are also preparing for an open house.

MPM - Week of 4/7/08

Once again, last week's plan got derailed at some point. Probably due to the frenzy of cleaning, due to the open house we had today. The open house where one person showed up. At least that's better than the last open house. And it only takes one buyer, right?

Anyway, two of the items for this week's menu plan are carried over from last week - the sticky chicken and the chicken quesadillas. So, without further ado...

Menu for the week of 4/7/08
Monday: Sticky Chicken with stuffing and green beans
Tuesday: Quesadillas, using the left-over Sticky Chicken, with corn and chips
Wednesday: Up for Grabs
Thursday: Pork BBQ in slow cooker with french fries and veggies
Friday: Grilled marinated steak (see below for marinade recipe)
Saturday: Sweet and Spicy Chicken in slow cooker (I am modifying this recipe, by using it with bone-in chicken breasts instead of wings)
Sunday: Up for Grabs

By the way, I made this recipe for teriyaki chicken last week and it was a hit! It's definitely one to keep in the recipe file. Go to OrgJunkie.com to look at more great menus!

Steak Marinade
1/3 cup soy sauce
3/4 cup salad oil (I usually use olive oil)
1/8 cup Worcestershire
1 tbsp dry mustard
2 tsp salt
1 tsp parsley
1 1/2 tsp ground pepper
1 crushed garlic clove
1/4 cup lemon juice

Blend all ingredients together in blender for 1/2 minute. Marinade steak to your heart's content. Grill. Enjoy.

The Chex Mix Chronicles

Last Monday, as I was attempting to put air in my tire while:

1. Wearing heels.
2. Standing (or squatting, I should say) in the rain.
3. Holding a ridiculous duck umbrella (complete with an orange bill protruding from the front of it) because the only umbrella in the car happened to be Kaitlyn's.
4. Attempting to use an air hose a la Tim-the-Tool-Man-Taylor - that sucker meant business!!

I decided that my life frequently affords me the opportunity to experience these types of situations - ones that are equal parts humiliating and humorous. Situations that are perfect blog fodder.

I've already posted a few of these stories, and decided that since I will probably post a lot more, I should come up with a catchy name so I can label them all. I decided on "The Chex Mix Chronicles" because the Chex Mix story is the epitome of what this category will represent. If you haven't read about the time that three of my husband's toenails ended up in the Chex Mix (and in my mouth) please go here immediately. Thank you.

Now, since I know you are dying to know more about my experience in the rain on Monday evening, I will share more of the details with you.

I haven't worn heels to work in ages. But last weekend I got a new pair of pants, and these pants were obviously not going to work with my boring flats - they need a shoe with a heel - and the only option I had was to wear my dress heels. I looked absolutely adorable, and my feet hated every minute of it.

While at work, I realized that Monday night was probably going to be the best possible time for me to go grocery shopping. I didn't have to worry about picking up Kaitlyn after work, and even though it was raining and would be a yucky night to shop, rain was in the forecast for every day of the week so I didn't think that any other day would be any better.

Side note: it did not rain any other day this week. Not one drop.

I left work and realized that I had no umbrella. Except for the duck umbrella that we gave Kaitlyn as a part of her Easter basket. It is such an adorable little umbrella!! It is the perfect size for Kaitlyn and the whole thing looks like a duck head, with eyes and a duck bill that sticks out a little bit.

Yeah, it's adorable for a toddler. But for a woman in heels, trying to maneuver through the Meijer parking lot? Not so much.

I left the umbrella in the car, deciding that I would rather make a dash for it and get a little wet. While in Meijer I wanted to look for a few items to spruce up our house, in preparation for our open house tomorrow. (Please pray that our house sells!!!!) I spent longer than normal in the store, and by the time I got to the check out my feet were killing me.

I went to the self checkout, which I normally love. But on this night, the scanner didn't want to work. I found myself standing there, waving a bag of frozen corn around and around and around, trying it left to right, right to left, from the top down, from the bottom up, etc. I thought maybe it was waiting for a little song and dance. After five or six or one hundred attempts, it finally scanned. A line was forming behind me, and I could only imagine that everyone was thinking, "Geez, lady. Just scan the stupid thing!"

By the time I left the store I was not in the best of moods. I stepped back into the pouring rain, praying that I was actually headed in the direction of my car. I found my car and as I loaded the trunk I noticed the front tire - it was low. Very low. For some reason, the rims on our tires make it difficult for the tires to retain air. Or something like that. Mike explained it to me once, but I all I know is that it means we are always putting air in the tires. My parents gave Mike an air compressor last year for Christmas, which has greatly reduced our hurried trips to local gas stations who provide air. And our digging in the cup holder to see if we have 75 cents, which is how much air normally costs.

But we aren't always on top of the air-in-the-tires situation. And of course this had to be one of those times. And (of course) the tire was low enough that I did not feel safe in driving all the way home without putting air in the tire. I got in the car and headed in the direction of the gas station. When I pulled in I realized that (of course) the air thingy was not in a covered area. I was already wet and miserable, but I didn't have any desire to be SOAKING wet. My only option was to try the duck umbrella. I reluctantly pulled it out and stepped out of the car.

I went around to the tire, squatted down and took the cap off. While simultaneously trying to balance myself, ignore my screaming feet, and hang onto the duck umbrella, I grabbed the hose and put the nozzle onto the air thingy. It didn't seem to be doing anything. By this time, the frustration had reached a whole new level. I kept messing with the nozzle and tried to examine the base unit to make sure it was operating the way it was supposed to. That's when I noticed the other hose. The one lying in the wet, muddy grass, several feet out of reach. The other hose that was tangled up with the hose I was holding.

I made my way to the other hose and stood there, hovered over the grass, trying to balance in my heels and keep the duck umbrella somewhere in the vicinity of the top of my head, while attempting to detangle the hoses. I quickly gave up on any hope of success, and instead I heaved the whole tangled, muddy mess over to the car. (And I'm still holding the duck umbrella, thank you very much.) I put the second nozzle onto the air thingy and it about knocked me off my feet! I've put air in tires plenty of times and I've never experience that kind of air pressure. Normally, it might not have been a big deal. But on this night, well, it just about sent me over the edge.

After I managed to get air in the tires, I heaved the muddy mess of hoses back towards the grass, remembered to put the cap back on the tire, and fished around in the back seat to find a paper towel to wipe my hands off. I put the ducky umbrella down, got in the car, and drove home. And prayed that Mike would find it in his heart to put up with his tired, wet, cranky wife, who was going to make him carry in the groceries.

Note to self: Buy more umbrellas.

For another story from the Chex Mix Chronicles, click here.

I finally did it

For a while now I've been visiting the blogs of my college friends in order to see what they are up to and to keep in touch with them. Then one day, about two months ago, I was introduced to a whole new blog circle of "friends." I put friends in quotes because I don't know these friends personally, and they certainly don't know me, but I now read their blogs on a regular basis.

At the very start of this was the OrgJunkie.com blog, and it was through her (and her Works for Me Wednesday post) that I came across Rocks in my Dryer. The first time I visited RIMD, Shannon was just embarking on a trip to Africa through Compassion, along with lots of other bloggers, including Boo Mama. I returned to these two blogs to read about their Africa adventure, and it was a very touching experience. And a very uncomfortable experience. It made me feel all squirmy inside, because I was confronted with my own abundance. And selfishness.

Yuck.

I decided that I should sponsor a child. The funny thing is, deciding to do it doesn't actually make it happen. I know you are shocked by this!! I intended to do it. But I never did.

Until today.

I got on Boo Mama's site and she had a link to Rocks in my Dryer, so I went over there and read this post. And I got to the end and thought, "It's now or never." So I clicked the link to the Compassion site, and am now a sponsor for an adorable little girl from Nicaragua. She's four years old, her name is Susana, and she has the cutest little pigtails. I imagine that Kaitlyn will be a blond-haired, blue-eyed version of Susana when she gets to be four.

If you've ever considered sponsoring a child but have never taken that step, I'm sending a little nudge your way. :-) If you want to help out but aren't 100% sure about actually sponsoring a child, you can also go to Compassion's site and make a one-time donation.

Click here to learn more about all of the bloggers who participated in the Compassion trip to Uganda. I dare you to read their stories... It might make you feel a little squirmy inside, but I promise you won't regret it.

Bad hair days

Today I had the privilege of appearing on the Hall of Shame Fame in the registrar's office at the college where I work. They have a picture frame hanging on their wall, and once a month they post a new picture of someone who works here. This is usually a blown up picture from a past yearbook (which, of course, is always VERY flattering) and until recently, it was always someone who had attended here as a student. It's fun to see the picture and try to guess who it is. And then spend a few minutes snickering about their past appearance.

Well, apparently, they are running out of former students.

I got a call today saying "Oh, you have to run down and see the new picture." I asked who was in this month's picture and my sly co-worker avoided the question. I had to go downstairs anyway, so I popped into the office to see this:


Nice. Fifth grade. Poodle hair. Don't I look thrilled???

I would like to thank all the little people who made this award possible. First, to my mother, for lovingly perming my hair when I was 11, and for scanning this picture into an electronic format so she could easily share it with the world. Second, to my father, for standing me in front of the curtain in our dining room (along with my "student of the month" award) to take this lovely picture. Third, to my sister and brother-in-law, for being such willing participants in this surprise. And finally, I must stop and thank God for bestowing on me such a full head of hair, which is magnificently emphasized when permed.

Since I am already baring my soul to you in the form of Bad Hair Humiliation, here is another picture for your viewing pleasure:


This was taken in 1990, at my sister's wedding. Wouldn't Dolly Parton be proud??