What Was Lost Has Now Been Found!!

I'm giddy!

My husband found a CD of mine that I have been looking for. For months. I thought it had gone. I searched the box of CDs that we have yet to unpack from our move a year ago. I searched in my car. I even searched my parent's house in case I left it there when I moved out. But alas, it was nowhere to be found.

I gave it up for dead.

I knew I wouldn't be able to find another copy of it anywhere because it was one of those generic compilation CDs and I couldn't even remember the name of it. All I knew was that it had old-fashioned big band music, and even then I only remembered the titles to a couple of songs. There are TONS of CDs like that, but I didn't want just any one. I wanted mine.

And yesterday, my husband found it! He has slowly been unpacking all the boxes in the office full of his computer stuff and techno gadgets, and apparantly my beloved CD found its way in there. (This box has moved with us to three different apartments, and this is the first time it has been opened.) Wonder of wonders!

I was thrilled. I did a little happy dance right there in the office.

It's good to find joy in the little things!

And Murphy Giggled

It all started with my choice of wardrobe this morning.

My new white v-necked tee from my favorite store. I hadn't worn it but once, and was looking forward to going out and about the town in it today. Today is a busy day; Tuesday Morning Mom's Group at church, music rehearsal with friend Missy, then a chiropractic appointment. All of these things are things in which I want to look presentable. I don't want to appear as I do around the house; hair swept up in a messy ponytail, shirt wrinkled and damp from holding a baby and catching his drool.

As I put on my new shirt, I heard a faint giggling somewhere. I ignored it.

I shouldn't have.

It wasn't just any giggle. It was Murphy.

You know. Him. The one whose law states "If it can go wrong, it will."

The first couple of hours went smoothly. My Tuesday Morning Mom's Group went great. Lancelot was in the nursery, so my shirt was as yet unwrinkled or damp. It was lovely. It looked just like a new white shirt ought to look.

When we got home, it was time to feed Lancelot. I selected carrots.

I faintly heard a giggle, but I ignored it.

I shouldn't have.

It was Murphy.

Lancelot eagerly thrust his hand in the little plastic container and promptly smeared carrots all over his khaki pants. (Thank heavens my white shirt was saved. I was smart enough to drape a dish towel over myself. I learned yesterday with my new yellow shirt that babies aren't the only ones who need bibs.) It wouldn't be so bad if these khaki pants belonged to me. No, they are a generous loan from Damselfly. Her little Flybaby wore them, but grew out of them, and as Lancelot is three months younger than Flybaby, she ever so kindly lent them to us. (Thanks, Damselfly! I'll do my best to get the carrot stains out of them...) I immediately took the pants off of Lancelot and tossed them in the laundry pile, vowing to throw them in the machine as soon as he was done eating.

I heard a faint giggle, but I ignored it. I shouldn't have. It was Murphy.

After feeding Lancelot (and when I intended to throw the clothes in the laundry so that the pants that do not belong to me will not be stained,) I realized that the nursery workers who took care of my little munchkin during Tuesday Morning Moms did not change his diaper. He was soaked. Absolutely drenched. So it was off to the changing table.

I have never seen such a wet diaper. All the books say that you should give your child a few minutes of diaperless time to prevent diaper rash and to allow their skin to get some air. I had never done this before, so I thought now would be a good time to try. After all, he had been in a sopping wet diaper for who knows how long, and I could tell by looking at his poor, wrinkled-up skin that he really needed it. So, I grabbed the waterproof cover and a blanket and set him up in the living room. I removed his diaper, set him on his tummy on the waterproof cover which was over the blanket, and put out a few toys for him to play with. I was starving, so I went into the kitchen to heat up last night's leftovers.

Very softly, there was a faint giggle. I ignored it. I shouldn't have. It was Murphy!!!

I was in the kitchen for two minutes. That's all. But that's all it took.

I came back into the living room expecting to see my son happily playing with the little toys.

What I saw instead looked like a sewer that had ruptured underground and spilled forth onto my son, the waterproof cover, the blanket, and his clothes. Of course.

I set down my lunch. (Pork roast and homemade bread from last night. Yummy! My absolute favorite!) It'll have to wait a minute.

And Murphy giggled.

It wasn't just a minute. See, this poo was all over the place. It took about 10 wipes to remove the mess from my son's skin, then there was still his clothes, the waterproof cover, and blanket to take into account.

I put a fresh diaper on the kiddo and yank his shirt off of him. I ball up the shirt, waterproof cover, and blanket into a wad, and add it to the pile with the khaki-pants-that-don't-belong-to-me-but-have-carrot-stains-on-them. Then it's off to the bathroom and he gets a bath. In the middle of the day. He loved it!

And there my lunch was, all lonely and getting cold.

There it is, another giggle!

By now, my new white shirt that I was planning to wear all day to impress my friends with how un-Momlike I can maintain my appearance is wrinkled, damp, and smells of bodily fluids. (Fortunately, no stains. I guess Murphy had SOME mercy on me!)

I removed my new white shirt and replaced it with a ratty maternity tank top. The ultimate in frumpy Momness. Blech. I adored this tank top while I was pregnant. It was great. It kept me as cool as I could possibly be in our Florida heat. But now, I don't want to look pregnant anymore. I'm still carrying around a bit of baby weight, so when I wear the maternity shirts which are cut to allow for extra weight, I look pregnant! Grr.

Murphy isn't giggling anymore. He's laughing uproariously, rolling around the carpet clutching his stomach and weeping because he is laughing so hard.

The little twerp.

Thankfully, Lancelot is now asleep in clean clothes and a fresh diaper. As soon as I complete this post, I'm going to toss my white shirt in the dryer with a fabric softener sheet to freshen it up. (I have so few non-maternity shirts that I can fit into and that look good. This year is the year of wardrobe replacement. lol!)

So there you have it. My encounter with Murphy.

People often say, "You'll laugh about this someday." Yes, that's true. However, why wait? I think I'll laugh about it now, because as annoying this day has been so far, it's pretty darn funny.

And Guinevere Giggled.

I'd like to thank the Academy...

I never thought I'd win one of these! Hee hee! Thanks, Damselfly, for this great honor! I think I'll put mine in my sidebar, too. This is worth keeping!

Let's see. Now I need to nominate some more blogs. I only read a small handful of blogs, and many of them have already received this award, so I think I'll just nominate three.

1. Darlene Schachts Blog.

I've been following this gal for a couple of years now. She's probably won oodles of these. She founded Christian Women Online and can be seen writing in several other places. She has also published a book called "The Mom Complex" which is just simply fabulous.

2. Learning for Lifetime

I found Susan during the Ultimate Blog Party. She writes thought-provoking spiritual lessons peppered with anecdotal illustrations. I love her!

3. Natalie Kale: Unabridged

This is my sister's blog. She's a twenty-year-old college student, and God is doing a lot with her right now. She expresses so well the things He is showing her. Although I pick on her 'cuz she's my kid sister, I've really learned a lot from reading her blog.

Purses and Bags

I love purses.

I simply adore tote bags.

My favorite store always sells tote bags and purses to match the current season's clothing, and I just about can't help myself.



This is the one I've got my eye on at the moment. (They had some other ones in the store today that don't show up on the website. Pooie.)

So when I saw this contest to win a Coach bag, I just had to enter!!

Own the Day

"This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it." -Psalm 118:24

"Say 'hey!' It's a good day, even though things aren't goin' my way. Jesus was born and I am saved so, say 'hey,' it's a good day." -Song by FFH

"Carpe Diem!"

There are so many ways of expressing the sentiments above. Each day is a gift from God. We can't live in tomorrow, or yesterday, or in a day several years from now. What we have is today, and to waste it would be sinful!

Damselfly and I went out today. We enjoyed lunch at a local sandwich-and-soup cafe, then spent a lovely hour at a local park playing with our babies. The weather was beautiful, the boys were happy. It was truly a joyous day. We got around to discussing our hopes for the future. "It'll be so much easier when they can walk and run. They'll play on the playground while we chat." "Won't it be great when they can eat table food and we won't have to worry about baby food and bottles anymore?" "I can't wait 'til they can sit and entertain themselves with their toys so we can get things done around the house!"

Then I realized, yes, those things will be great. But why live in the future? This time of helpless-infants-needing-my-undivided-attention-all-freaking-day-long will not last forever. I thought the nights of waking up 3 and 4 times to feed would never end. I thought that never again for the rest of my life would I get a decent night's sleep.

Lancelot now sleeps through the night. Believe it or not, I sometimes miss those quiet moments cuddling in the rocking chair when everything and everyone else is still.

Yes, it will be fantastic when Lancelot can walk and I won't need to carry him all the time. (My chiropractor will also be glad when I don't have to carry him all the time!) But then, a day will come when Lancelot won't want to be held and cuddled. He'll be independent, doing everything by himself.

It will be incredible when he can eat table food. But then, he will make a mess all over the place or be picky or both or more...

Damselfly and I came to to the conclusion that no matter what stage of life our babies are in, there will always be something that we will be looking forward to not having anymore. So rather than always wishing for something better to come along, we must make an effort to enjoy and cherish the wonderful things we have now because soon they will be gone.

This is true not only in our children's lives, but in our own. How often have we said that things will be better when... etc etc etc? There will always be something that could make things better. There will always be something that could make them worse.

Our planet goes through a cycle of four seasons. These four seasons constantly repeat themselves. It's a predictable cycle. Our lives also have seasons, but each season is a new season, one that we will never experience again.

If you knew that you would only be able to play in the snow for one season and never see it again for the rest of your natural life, would you complain about having to put snow tires on your car, or would you be out sledding and building snowmen at every opportunity you had? If summer only came once, would you complain about the heat or would you build sand castles at the beach? Our lives are like this. Every season is unique, and while they inevitably will have negative attributes about them, it is certain that we shall never see this particular season in our lives again. Ever.

Own the day!

Wordless Wednesday

Early Morning Stream of Consciousness

It's 6 am. My little bundle of joy has woken up. For a little while, anyway. It seems had I checked his diaper when I first heard the screams coming through the monitor, I may have been able to get him back to sleep. Now that I figured it out, (half an hour later and half an episode of "Voyager" watched,) I have gently placed him back in his crib in hopes that he will fall asleep again. While I am awaiting this, I have gone into the next room to write this blog post as I listen for the complaining to subside and sleep to once again fall upon the household. If the complaining does not subside within 5 minutes, I shall know that sleep will not fall upon the household until he has been awake for some time and shall require his morning nap.

Let's see how much I can write in 5 minutes. Join me as I allow my stream of consciousness to bubble forth. Hang on, it may be a bumpy ride.

I want to bake some chocolate chip cookies and eat every single one as soon as they come out of the oven. There is absolutely no point in eating chocolate chip cookies any other way. Maybe I can just make one chocolate chip cookie, that way I won't feel like I'm wasting anything and I won't blow up like a balloon because of all the calories. Speaking of calories, I have another 10 pounds to go to get back to my prepregnancy weight. Yay! I'm joining LA Fitness because they have a great nursery where I am not afraid to bring Lancelot, unlike The Other Gym that I toured where the nursery frightened me. LA Fitness has a water aerobics class that I plan on joining, because I like to exercise but I hate getting hot and sweaty. In the pool, you don't feel hot and sweaty even though you are. It's great. I'm going to the chiropractor again later this morning for my second adjustment. My lower back is starting to feel better, but I can tell some work still needs to be done.

OK, the crying has subsided. Sleep has once again descended upon the household, and yet I remain the only fool not in bed.

Going back to sweet slumber for *hopefully* another couple of hours.

Have a lovely day!

On Being Twisted Up Like a Pretzel and Sat Upon

Hee hee.

My title makes me giggle.

Sounds dirty, doesn't it?

Not really.

I went to the chiropractor yesterday, whereupon I was twisted up like pretzel, and sat upon.

My spine made a big "pop" and things settled back into place, giving me relief after years and years of discomfort. Apparently, part of my hip joint had locked up, causing the rest of my spine to twist and turn to accommodate for the lost motion from that joint. After seeing my x-rays, the good doctor came in and said, "Girl, no WONDER you've been hurting!"

That's when he twisted me up like a pretzel and sat on me. It was very weird. I have no idea what exactly he did or how he did it, but somehow being twisted up pretzel-like and a sudden blow to some part or other of my spinal structure fixed things up. Starting to, anyway. I go back Saturday for another adjustment, and we'll make a plan of routine maintenance from then on. (I sound like a car. 30,000 mile checkup for my spine, perhaps? lol!)

About 6 years ago I hurt my back. I'm not sure how, but I woke up one morning and could barely move. My parents had to come get me out of my college dorm room and take me to the hospital. All they did was give me muscle relaxers, and ever since then I've had trouble with my back. I never thought to go to a chiropractor, until I met one at my church.

I'm very glad I went.

Looking forward to being twisted up and sat upon again.

LOL!!!!!!!!

Wordless Wednesday

Last night, we went to the beach to do some photography for some friends. They were kind enough to shoot some pictures of us, too!

Easter Fun (and) Things that Go Bump in the Night

As you can see by my title, I have two things to discuss today. I will start with Easter Fun.

Since we don't have family in town, we spend Easter with the people in our small-group Bible study. In the last couple of years, we have started a new tradition. Since there are no children of egg-hunting age in the group, the grown-ups have an Easter Egg decorating contest. The photo you see to the left is me with the prize that my husband and I won with our "Most Far Out" eggs, which are pictured below.

As you can see, we have a lovely model of the Millenium Falcon starship piloted by Han Solo, built out of Lego. Inside the Millenium Falcon are R2-Egg2 (made from a quail egg,) Han Egg Solo and Chew-Begga. To the left of the Falcon can be seen C3-Eggo, Darth Eggar, and Obi-Egg Kenobi. To the right of the starship are Princess Lay-Egg, Luke Eggwalker and YodEgg.

Hee hee hee. We had lots of fun making these little guys.

On to the second part of my post. "Things That Go Bump In the Night."

We live in an apartment. Apartment construction is not always the best. A few days ago, my husband was innocently placing a pair of blue jeans on the top closet shelf, and the whole thing fell down on him. He was not a happy man.

However, he got to make a trip to "The Man Store" otherwise known as Home Depot. He bought a new length of shelving and some brackets, and installed a new closet shelf. Things were great and wonderful.

Until 2:30 A.M. when we were awoken by a very loud "bump" in the night. The new shelf had also fallen down. (See below.)

We don't know what caused it to fall down. Perhaps the structure of the wall weakened when the first shelf fell?

Not only did the top shelf fall, but it fell onto the shelf below. Luckily, that one is still up, but some of the brackets holding it to the wall came off. All we need is some new brackets and everything will be fine.

This time, Hubby's going to get a different kind of bracket that will hopefully be stronger.

In other news, Damselfly and myself have just joined a Mom's Group bible study at our church. It meets there at the church, so we have use of the church nursery. Two blissful hours without diaper changes and aching arms. PLUS we got to chit-chat with other grown-ups! It's wonderful!

Good Friday

Today is Good Friday.

Many people do not understand the significance of, or know the meaning of, Good Friday.

If I were the one naming the day, I doubt I would call it "good."

This is the day Jesus was crucified. For three days, the world was without God, as the Holy Spirit had not yet come upon the apostles and the physical embodiment of God had perished.

During this week, our Jewish brothers and sisters celebrate Passover. This past Tuesday, I had the privilege of attending a Passover Seder performed by a Messianic Jew, (or, "completed Jew," as many of them like to be called who have learned that Jesus is the Messiah.) At the conclusion, we watched a video showing Jesus being crucified. I believe some of the scenes were taken from the recent movie "The Passion of the Christ," others were from movies I could not identify.

As they were beating our Lord and His blood was dripping upon the ground, I found myself weeping. So was my husband. A few others in the audience were also wiping their eyes, but I found myself astounded to see so many people displaying no emotion.

I'm not trying to say that I am more spiritual than others because I was crying. I know that many people do not display emotion outwardly, particularly in public. I just think it is so sad that we have become so desensitized to violence that when we see a portrayal of our Lord's crucifixion, it often has little to no emotional impact. When other acts of violence are shown on the television or movie screen, we tell ourselves, "it's not real."

This was real.

It was very real.

As part of the Seder I attended, our friend Peter explained the tradition of the firstborn child asking the Four Questions of the Seder. (For more information on Seders, see "Passover on the Net." He explained that it was the duty of the firstborn child to ask these questions because during the actual Passover, it was the firstborn that would have died had the family not sacrificed a lamb and painted the doorpost with its' blood. Peter said, "The firstborn would really identify with that lamb, more so than everyone else in the household. Because if the lamb didn't die, that child would have died."

He went to explain that as God's children, we are all the 'firstborn' and Jesus is our 'lamb.' If He hadn't died, we would have.

It's all very sobering. On this weekend, many people eat candy, hide Easter eggs, and decorate their homes with bunnies and flowers. That is all well and good, but we often forget the purpose of observing this Holy Day at all.

In my family, Good Friday is a day of mourning. We mourn the death of our Lord. My husband dresses head-to-toe in black to mark the occasion.

On Sunday however, we celebrate Christ's resurrection. And what a joyful occasion it is! (Another thing Peter told us at the Seder was that our word "Easter" comes from "Ishtar," who was a pagan god. Instead, he calls the day "Resurrection Sunday." Now that I know the origin of the word, I might start doing that, too.)

Many people consider Christmas to be the cornerstone of the Christian faith. It isn't. While Christ's birth is extremely important, His death is more so. Without His death, we would not have salvation. Had there not been a death, then celebrating His birth would be meaningless.

I hope everyone has a good weekend, and a happy Resurrection Sunday!

Is anything safe??

*Note: this is a very long post. If you don't have a great deal of time, my "point in a nutshell" is at the very bottom.*


As I've been wandering through the blogosphere, spending time on other mom's blogs and reading articles on different parenting sites, I have come across a great deal of information on the safety of vaccinations. Adventures in Babywearing has a post right now telling a story about her son's reaction to a vaccine. Comments on that post reveal her reader's similar experiences, or acquaintances with similar situations. I've heard tell of research linking vaccines to autism and many other diseases.

It's frightening. I've chosen to vaccinate my son, although I have not taken the time to do the research. I was vaccinated and I'm fine. However, it seems that they are giving many more vaccines now than they gave when I was a baby.

In recent years, the health of Americans (and I'm sure others as well,) has gotten worse and worse. There are so many different "causes" for all these things that it's hard to believe what causes what.

The use of disposable diapers has been "linked" to many problems, including infertility in males.

The use of disinfectant cleaning products has been "linked" to the increase of allergies and asthma.

Eating non-organic food has been "linked" to all sorts of developmental delays.

(By the way, this is totally off-topic, but I despise the term "organic" the way it is used. "Organic" means a living organism. The dictionary definition of "organic" has nothing to do with something being chemical-free or non-genetically altered. Some other word needs to be chosen! I have no problem with "free-range chickens" but to call them "organic chickens" is just dumb. Sorry if I've offended anyone.)

It seems one can find research to support any hypothesis. Another problem with research is that if it is not done properly and scientifically (and OBJECTIVELY,) then the research is not valid. Unfortunately, much of the "research" that is put out there is often opinion and conjecture. At least much of what we find on the internet is. To really find the research, you need to get into the medical and scientific journals. Find out how the research was conducted. Were all variables accounted for? Was there a control? Closely examine the results.

For an assignment in a psychology class I had in college, our assignment was to find a media report about something in the environment causing a developmental problem. (I found an article claiming that female athletes on a low-calorie diet were more likely to develop knee problems. The topic of vaccinations causing problems would have been an excellent choice as well.) Not only did we have to read the media article, but we had to find the actual research which was used in writing the article. So I did. I found the research report in the Sports Medical Journal (I can't remember the exact title) which the media article was reporting on. When I read the actual report, I realized that the media report had it all wrong. Whoever wrote the article that got out to the general public did not closely examine the way the research was conducted and did not closely examine the results. The research report gave a completely different cause for why the female athletes on a low-calorie diet were subject to knee problems. (It wasn't the diet, although that was a minor factor, it was more due to the biology of the foot.)

I say this to encourage all of you not to trust what the media says about research that has been done. Get your hands on the research itself! While research reports in medical/health/science journals can be really dull reads, they put out the facts.

I applaud moms for doing research to make decisions for their child's well-being. I just want to caution you that the media reports about the research might not be accurate. Make sure you have a reputable source. Double-check the facts. If we believed all of the "reports" we read in newspapers, magazines, and online, we would move out of our houses, build a cabin up on a mountaintop away from civilization, grow our own food, get rid of electricity and cell phones, and ride horses to get around.

Not that I have anything against horses. It's just that for every risk we subject ourselves to because of things in our environment, we have many benefits as well.

200 years ago when people didn't have electricity and rode horses to get around, there was probably much less autism, cancer, allergies, asthma, and Alzheimer's disease. However, they also died of smallpox and tuberculosis. Children were quarantined for measles. Thanks to vaccinations, we don't have these deadly diseases anymore.

Before epidurals and c-sections, mothers and infants commonly died in childbirth.

Please, I don't mean to sound judgmental or critical. I just want you not only to be informed about the choices you make, but to be well informed. Every mother has to make these decisions for herself. I have friends on both extremes of the vaccination/diaper/sleeping/organic food debates. I myself am kind of on the fence. While some of the things I do are what is "recommended," many other things that I do would be frowned upon by current medical and societal thinking. (Such as, I put my baby to sleep on his tummy instead of his back.)

Wow, this has gotten long. Sorry!

Here's my point in a nutshell:

Don't believe everything you read. If you read something, read some more. Get to the bottom line, to the facts. THEN make your choice.

Living Water

Jesus often referred to Himself as "Living Water."

The Psalmist tells us the the Lord will "leadeth me beside still waters, He restoreth my soul."

The sacrament of baptism is performed with water.

Our planet is composed mostly of water.

Our bodies are 75% water.

Water is mysterious. In the depths of the ocean reside creatures of God's imagination which we shall never see.

Water is refreshing. On a hot day, a dip in the pool makes us feel "right" again.

When we are thirsty, water replenishes us.

I have often experienced my times of most intimate closeness with God when I am near water. When the cares of the world consume me, I find a place of rest at the edge of the water. Watching the gentle flow of this life-giving substance has an immediate calming effect. (There is a particular place in northern California, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. A mountain brook running through a campground. Large boulders along the riverbank. A smooth, flat boulder which provided a seat for me when I was young and playing in the campground. I would sit there, watch the water and listen.)

The water is balm to my soul, and I'm not really sure why.

When I am by the water, I can most clearly hear God's voice.


*The photo above was taken on our vacation to Key West last year. If you have never seen the sun set into the ocean, it is an incredible experience.*

The Fright of My Life

I was nearly kidnapped today.

Maybe.

I think we've all heard stories of women who are abducted in parking lots, subjected to all sorts of violent crime.

I was doing some grocery shopping. Having completed the shopping, I was at the car, putting the groceries in the trunk. Lancelot was safely buckled into his car seat with the door open to allow him some air. (Some moms go ahead and start the car to get the air running for their kids, but then I'm afraid someone will jump in the car and drive off with my kid. Maybe I'm paranoid.) My back was to the parking lot, the shopping cart between me and the row of cars behind me. Suddenly I heard a booming voice shout a cheery, "hello!" I think it must be a friend of mine, so I turn around.

A strange man whom I have never seen approaches within 2 feet of me trying to sell me perfume. In a grocery store parking lot. The perfume is in his pocket. Does anyone *else* see any red flags going up here?

I'm terrified, so I immediately want to put some distance between myself and this man, so I step behind the shopping cart so that I can ram him in significant places if he tries anything.

One problem. He is on the passenger side of my car right next to the open door by Lancelot's car seat. I can't get to Lancelot because the cart is between the man and me, and the man is between the cart and my baby.

I told him I wasn't interested in buying perfume.

He laughed and said, "I'm not going to hurt you." He steps closer.

Once again, I tell him I'm not interested. He gets the point and leaves, much to my relief.

Much to my terror (again,) he leaves by way of the passenger side of my car, going right past my baby. I follow him and slam the car door before he can do anything, but he kept walking, thank God.

I don't know. Maybe he really was just trying to sell perfume, but I was terrified out of my wits. I don't usually get that way. I found a security guard and reported the man. Hopefully he was found and brought to justice! (Even if he meant no harm, it's not right to be soliciting in parking lots. Particularly to women who are alone or with babies.)

The bagger offered to carry my groceries out for me, but I declined. I think next time I'll take them up on their offer!

A Moment of Ranting, if I may.

Grr.

Lease restrictions.

Threat of eviction.

All over a lousy satellite dish.

GRRR!

Aggravation of all kinds.

When we moved in, the lovely leasing agent who was so anxious to rent us this apartment told us that of course we could install a satellite dish. We could put it outside by the corner of the building up on a pole. We just couldn't affix it to the building itself. (Either she lied to get us to take the apartment, or she just simply didn't know. Either way, it's not good.)

Foolishly, we believed her. After all, every other building in the apartment complex which was facing the proper direction also had satellite dishes installed on poles outside. And if the leasing agent said it's OK, why should we NOT believe her??

We've had our satellite dish for the better part of a year. A few days ago, we receive a letter stating that we are in violation of our lease agreement and if we do not correct the problem, we will be asked to "vacate the premesis."

We have seven days to become "in compliance." Imagine trying to get service people out to your house within seven days.

Grr.
Miraculously, Hubby arranged for the satellite tv people to come and move our satellite dish to a more appropriate location. They were supposed to arrive between 8 and noon. They showed up at 1:30. They couldn't do what he wanted them to do and said they had to call someone else who had "more advanced training" to come fix this problem.

I have no idea when this "more advanced" person will arrive. Hopefully this more highly trained individual will also have a better handle of the English language.

Grr.

I don't particularly care if we have satellite TV or have to switch to cable, but Hubby just loves his satellite TV, particularly the high-definition channels. He purchased a special HD unit to record the HD shows, we paid a lot of money to have them bring out the HD-ready satellite dish, and now this.

Grr.

Important lesson learned. Always check the terms of your lease before doing anything!!!

On a happier note, Lancelot is doing very well with his new solid foods. We started him on rice cereal, and while his initial reaction wasn't favorable, he now happily eats a generous serving of it twice a day. This afternoon, he sampled carrots for the first time. He didn't eat as much as he does of cereal, but I anticipate that will increase, as well. Once we know carrots are OK, squash and sweet potatos are on the list.

Any funny stories of your babies eating their first solid foods?

Enjoy some photos. I sometimes feed him in the little chair pictured below, other times we lay him across our laps and place a pillow under his head. We find that this allows more food to go into his mouth than to dribble down his chin. (Gravity is a wonderful thing.)

Have a pleasant day!

Ooh! Ooh! Free stuff!

5 minutes for mom is giving away a new Dyson Slim Vacuum Cleaner! Head on over and sign up yourself! Good luck!

April Fool Memories

I stink at playing jokes on people.

In fact, I stink at telling jokes to people.

I often don't get jokes that are told to me.

However, I was part of a really cool April Fool's joke once upon a time.

Come with me down Memory Lane. The year was 1999. I was in Advanced Placement 11th Grade English. We had an incredible teacher and a great group of kids, so while we were doing very challenging work, we mostly had a good time about it. On April 1st, the class walks in to the room to find a copy of The Grapes of Wrath on every desk. (For anyone who hasn't seen a copy of The Grapes of Wrath, it's quite a tome. A very large book. Quite intimidating. Even for 11th Grade AP English students.) Our usually sweet, kindhearted teacher informs us that starting today, we must read this new book, and that our assignments involve a complete outline of every chapter. One outline is due each class period, meaning reading 2 or 3 chapters a week. (We were on an "alternating block schedule," so depending on the week we would meet either 2 or 3 times.) These chapters were LONG. And there were a LOT of them.

Our countenances fell. How could we, even as super 11th grade AP English students, accomplish this monumental task? Our teacher, who is usually so sweet and kindhearted, has turned into a monster!! How could she do this to us? Of course, we completely believe her.

She got us good.

Real good.

After explaining the new "assignment," she asked a student to look at the board and read out loud the date.

We finally got it.

She got us so good, we decided to get her back.

During our lunch period, the entire class went into the guidance counselor's office. We selected a particular counselor who is known for having an excellent sense of humor. We explained what we wanted to do, and she was happy to help us.

She withdrew each and every one of us from 11th Grade AP English and temporarily placed us in the "regular" English class.

She even printed out new class schedules for us, reflecting the changes.

One by one, we went into our English teacher's room and told her we were dropping out of AP English because it was just too hard.

Her countenance fell. She didn't anticipate the ramifications that her little joke would have on her otherwise intelligent, creative 11th Grade AP English students. How could they do this to her? Couldn't they take a little joke?

We got her.

We got her good.

I knew it would happen sooner or later!

It happened.

He fell.

Off the queen-sized bed.

On Dad's watch.

We often prop up Lancelot on the bed in his room while we rummage in his drawers for his clothes. This morning, Dad was caring for Lancelot while I slept in. (We have a deal. On weekends, one day I will wake up when Lancelot does and let Hubby sleep in, the next day we switch.) Today was my day to sleep in. I wake up, hearing a scream. A loud scream. I rush into the nursery to find Hubby gently cradling Lancelot, rocking him back and forth and muttering soothing somethings into his ear. I ask what happened.

"He fell off the bed."

"How?"

"He was propped up against the pillow and fell over."

"Where were you?"

"Looking for a bib."

It astounds me. As I said, we often prop him up against pillows and he's fine. But in the split second in which a parent's back is turned, that's when the kid falls over.

Lancelot is fine. No harm done. He didn't fall on his head, didn't bump the end table on his way down. I told him it was bound to happen sooner or later.

After all, he *is* his father's child!