Rutching, Ear Gunk and Hickory Farms

It's late Monday afternoon, just before that grand old time of day called "dinner time", and for whatever reason, I thought I might be able to sit down and jot down a few words on my little blog that suffers from long periods of neglect. Why I thought the most chaotic hour(s) of the day (those closely preceding the dinner hour) would make a suitable time to write is beyond me.

For instance, one child is extremely frustrated with one of his Hess trucks because he can't get the door to open, another is trying to climb a makeshift ramp that keeps falling (an unused table leaf propped up on the sofa), leaving her frustrated and the other is fussing up in her crib because she lost her Nuk from rutching around so much. (For those who live outside Dutch country, "rutching" (pronounced like rut-ching)or to be "rutchy" means to be squirmy, discontent, moving around to find the right position, uncomfortable). It is such a fun little word to write and say, and so much a part of my past, I find it irresistible!

I really have nothing profound to say.

I write that as though it would be a surprise to my reader.

'Wow! The wise old cow has nothing of great value to significantly change or alter my perspective for the better...hard to believe!". I am sure that is what you are thinking.

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It did occur to me the other day that I am slipping in even the most basic of motherly duties. The occurring happened as I was cleaning out my baby's ears in the elevator up to her well check at the pediatrician's office on the third floor. I used to make sure whatever child was attending such a visit was bathed, their various cracks and crevices gutted out and sparkling clean. Even used baby lotion to create that fresh baby smell (and to cover up any unseen 'gunk' that collects in the cracks of the neck and legs that even the most attentive mother can sometimes miss. The smell is akin to that of a decaying animal. Or a rotting potato.). In any case, at this last appointment, my dear little one had nary a bath, and as I was doing a last minute once-over, I realized she had quite a collection of wax and other miscellaneous gunk that I swiftly tried to carve out with my pinky fingernail. I smoothed over the three long strands of hair she has left with some spit and a hand swipe and walked into the office. They were none the wiser (or kind enough not to mention anything). This will only get worse, I fear.

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I have hickory smoked chicken thighs baking in the oven for dinner. The smell emitted by hickory takes me back to my childhood (mom, you'll marvel that I remember this) when my mom would take me to that glorious wonderland of material delights, Park City (our local mall). The "Hickory Farms" store was located in the South Wing, and they often had cheese and mustard samples set outside to lure you in to contemplate purchasing a large hickory-smoked sausage, cheese ball or well...that's about all I remember them having. It was a comforting smell and a nice (free) source of nourishment while trying to be perfectly charming, not begging, in hopes that mother or grandmother might buy me just a little something to take home. It was hard work keeping up such a front, when all I wanted to to was beg, so any nourishment, smoked or not, was a welcome distraction!

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I believe in discipline. Not negotiation...not reasoning....I am the parent, you, the child are not. I also,though, believe in grace and mercy and often use it. I hear discipline is effective (for you can often tell the children who are not), but it is SO TIRING sometimes. The reason I write this is because a.) although it is foolish for me to attempt to update my blog right now, I am still trying and because of that 2.) there are multiple children who have repeated disobeyed and should be disciplined...but I am tired. In these cases, the more I use "but", the less effective and powerful my commands become.

Lord, help!!!!!

( a familiar quote of my life currently).

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Last night I came home to find out my husband had found a new home for Bingo, and she was no longer here. I was glad HE was the one to do it, and without my direct prompting (although there were plenty of times when, in exasperation, I proclaimed that 'She HAS to go!!!!" as I was gagging over those accidental gross deposits she would sometimes leave on the laundry room floor). I was oddly a little sad when it came down to it, though. I am thankful for the lack of that responsibility, and I know she has a super new home she is in and that life here was not ideal for her. The real wrong move of the evening though, was Curt slipping in the movie "Marley and Me" after the kiddos were down. I fought the tears so hard (I am NOT going to cry over a dog movie...the last time I did that was Old Yeller, and I'm not doing it again!!), until my throat was dry and tired of swallowing those pesky tears back-and the dams broke forth. Curt found me after the movie standing in the dark powder bathroom, repeatedly blowing my nose and asking him if I he still loves me (for all the times I was so callous towards the love of our dog). He assured me he did. Ahh...hormones.

Pictured above and below are scenes from our Saturday, which was gloriously sunshiney and warm. Rick played a good lacrosse game, and we enjoyed precious time with a precious family-the Rodriguez's (Emily is the first friend I had on the first day of my new school in first grade. She's faithfully stuck by me ever since. She and I (and her twin) share the same maiden name, so we were often taken as triplets. It was and still would be a compliment to me!!

(our children..except for my littlest who was napping)
A little vendor selling her wares out of a cooler, in which she insisted on pushing by herself, uphill and beyond. Her current most frequent expression is "I DO!!!!!" (all caps and exclamation points included).
Have a super week, my friend....thanks for taking the time to drop by my little corner~