It's been 10.

 

 

Someone snapped a photo of Mike and I at the Hy-Vee Christmas Party....

 

 

10 years ago.

 

It was our very first date.

 

I don't know much, but whatever he and I got...

 

we've still got it.

 

 

Friday Funnies

This week has been heavy with daycare decisions and goodbyes.  So thankful to come home to an Indian.

 

Yep, those are arrowheads stuck under the bandana circling his head. 

 

This is the head-to-toe look, complete with moccasins and authentic Indian drum.  Note the bandana has been removed for the photo yet a can of beer on the end table remains.

 

I love when faces smile back at me. 

 

This grin can turn any frown upside-down.

 

This line-up cracks me up.  What's going on with Ross' necklace, you might ask?

No clue.  But that's my boy.

 

 

A Baby Doll

I needed to make a quick trip to ShopKo.  I was searching for a Baby Doll and returning a Barbie Doll.  While waiting in the return line, I noticed a flustered teenage cashier who was struggling to subtract .29 cents from $21.  She had to do the math in her head while a line of customers and her boss watched intently.  She couldn’t do it.

I was instantly 16 years old working at Super Valu and on the spot to make change.  It’s a lot like I imagine being on a game show would be.  It’s easy when you’re watching someone else, but when the pressures on, it can be so hard.  My heart went out to her.

 

As I made my way to the toy aisle, I spotted a woman from church with her 12 year old daughter.

They were looking at training bras.  The girl looked embarrassed, yet excited at the same time.

I was instantly 13 years old, standing in Walmart with my mom and sister and asking if I was going to get to buy a bra that day.  Lord knows I didn’t need one, but the idea of getting a bra was almost as exciting as getting to wear nylons and eyeliner.  I knew deep down it wouldn’t be long before Maisie and I would be standing there, looking at the training bras. 

 

I continued walking toward the toys, smiled at the memory and secretly thanked my lucky stars I was only there to pick out a baby doll. 

 

Life is good. 

The Skating Rink

I got the skating rink from Grandma C after she got her wings.  I remember her showing it to Ross as a baby, hoping he'd be impressed.  He didn't get much out of it, considering he was one.

I pulled it out each holiday season and was so disappointed that the skaters were missing from the box.

Last year Ross pulled the box out of basement and asked if we could set it up.  I told him the people were not in the box.  I've checked every year.  He pulled the rink out of the box and all of the ice skaters plus a miniature puppy went flying out of the box. 

Thanks G'funk.  It's no miniature christmas tree covered in chocolate ornaments, but it'll do.

So I Bake

If you've never experienced the art of finding a daycare provider for your children, lucky you.  We currently have a God-send of a daycare lady whom the kids couldn't be happier with.  I believe she truely loves our kids as her own which makes going to work so much easier on me. 

Monday night the bomb dropped.  With tears in her eyes, she handed me the letter explaining how they would be moving to Indiana in 2 weeks to help care for her husbands ailing parents. 

First thought:  Oh no you don't.

Second thought: I'm quitting my job.  We can live on rice and beans.  I wonder whats involved with Hawkeye health insurance for the kids?  I can start my own daycare, no biggie.

Third thought: This totally sucks. Where's the wine?

Fourth thought: Perhaps if I cry hard enough I'll wake up from this nightmare.

Fifth thought: If one more person tells me 'it will all be okay' I just may rip your head off. 

Did I mention I don't handle switching daycares well?  I actually find it one of the most emotionally draining, gut-wrenching, tension-causing issues of raising children to date.  (Keep in mind we havent hit the 'teens' yet)  Lets just say I'd rather go through childbirth without an epidural and need an emergency episiotomy than have go through the daycare search.

In the meantime, I've realized when I get stressed out and emotionally unstable, I bake.  I'm like one big angry baker. 

 

I have some cheerful helpers to see me through. 

 

Go ahead Molly.  You get the spatula.  Maisie will show you how this is done.

 

We hope to have our daycare selection made within the next couple of days.  In the meantime, feel free to stop out for some baked goods.  It's like the Sod House Bazaar around here.

TGIT (Thank Goodness it's Thursday)

Runaway

Friday night was the annual lighting of the Christmas lights and parade around the square.  Kratt followed us. 

 

Mike put Kratt inside his coat like a homeless man.  It was pathetic and cute at the same time.  Kratt got nervous, jumped out of Mikes’ coat and ran down the alley behind the jewelry store.  We figured Kratt knew his way and didn’t think much of it.

 

Saturday morning Kratt did not come running inside for breakfast as usual.  In fact, he did not come back all day.  Mike and Ross walked all over town searching with no luck.  I drove around town scanning porches and yards for him.  I thought I spotted him a couple times but it was just Hawkeye, another orange cat who lives down the road.  I called the Winterset vet offices and left messages that he was missing in case someone brought him in.  I even put a posting on the Madison County Mama’s Facebook page to keep an eye out for a missing cat.  Again, what in the world have I become?

 

Mike said each time he went downstairs and saw Kratt’s food and water bowl, it made him sad.  Ross asked we had any pictures of Kratt, because he didn’t want to forget what he looked like and that all he wanted for Christmas was Kratt back.

 

I did an online search on how to lure a missing cat home.  It suggested we retrace our steps, call his name, set his litter box outside our door and then wait.  We’re naturally impatient people.  After dinner we bundled the kids up, grabbed a flashlight and a Mason jar of vodka (not for Kratt) and began our search party.  We retraced out steps, walked down alley’s while shining a light in open garages and under cars.   We found a black cat twice and a white and yellow striped cat once.  No Kratt.  We opted against a candlelight vigil and headed home.

 

In the morning, I was the first one to wake.  I went downstairs, opened the back door and called for him. I heard a small ‘meow’ and saw his orange body running up the deck steps and into the house.  I hollered upstairs, “Kratt’s back!”

 

It was early Christmas at our house Sunday morning.  I sort of felt like Carol Brady in ‘A Very Brady Christmas’ and felt the urge to sing “Oh Come All Ye Faithful”,  But I didn’t.

 

At the end of the cat-rescue article I read, it said if you love your cat and your cat loves you, it’s not necessary to look for your missing cat; it will come find you.