The Most Wonderful Time of the Year!

So, I’ve been coughing for four days.  On day #3 my wonderful husband located and purchased the famously horrible Canadian cough syrup, Buckley’s.  It’s been at least 6 years since I’ve tasted that putrid concoction.  Man, is that creamy white liquid potent.  It’s a cross between drinking Pinesol and Vick’s vapor rub.  It certainly cleans you out.  But sadly, I’m still coughing.  Enough about me.

Then new ICBF waitlist for adopted children just came out!  It is the Colombian government’s official list of the ages of those kids who went to their forever homes.  It does my heart good to see movement and know those 10+ kids will be home for Christmas.  However, it is truly sad how long these families have waited.  The shortest was 4 months.  That’s just a plain fluke.  Most were between 40 and 52 months.  And that is from the time of their accepted referral.  So add on all of their paperwork, homestudy and fingerprint time!  Wow!  We are at 23 months currently. For the last 5 and 6 year olds that went home, the families waited 12 and 30 months.  So we should be sooner, rather than later.  Whatever that means.  I’m hopeful.

Last night we did the family thing and put up the Christmas tree together while Christmas music serenaded us LOUDLY.  I had not been out of the house for three days and was donning my pink fuzzy jammies and wild bed-head, so I made many threats to those who insisted on videotaping the occasion.  I know they got me when I wasn’t looking… and they’ll pay for it.  Not that I’m into retaliation, but a moms gotta do what a moms gotta do.  We put up the slender Jenny Craig tree in the living room with all the blue and silver ornaments, ribbon, lights and beads.  It’s quick and easy, doesn’t take up much room and looks festive through the front window. 

As I was digging through the ornament box looking for white, blue or silver ornaments, I vaguely remember leaving 60% of the ornaments in the box last year… the red ones… brown ones… green ones.  So, I made an official decision, followed by an announcement that we would have two trees this year.  A fake, skinny blue and silver Jenny Craig tree in the living room and a real, fresh, full pine tree grown in Oregon with all the other colored ornaments in the family room.  My relations were elated.  They begged to head off to Home Depot RIGHT NOW!   Alas, it was too late.  And they don’t have vivid memories of dead pine needles in the shag carpet…. I know the value of waiting until Dec. 19th to buy the real tree!  Freshness is where it’s at, baby.  Plus Rick and I are going away for 5 days, and who would water the tree???

There is much more decorating to be done.  The opened boxes are all over the downstairs staring at me.  But I coughed too much and needed a nap.  They can wait until tomorrow.

 

Garage Sale Jackpot!

Three weeks ago today, I asked my dear love-to-sleep-in husband if he would get up early on his only day to sleep-in and go with me to the park for my veggie co-op at 8:00 am.  He was nice and said yes.  The co-op is called Bountiful Baskets and is such an amazing deal… $15 for a laundry basket full of fresh produce… if you don’t mind getting up early on Saturday morning.

As we’re driving there, Rick delivered a speech about an unexpected bill that came and the freeze that was currently slapped on Crosby spending.  Hey, the co-op HELPED save money!!  It is good to be informed.  I was heretowith informed. Secretly I was hoping to be taken out to breakfast, but those thoughts were dashed after the speech.  Oh well.

After picking up the bountiful basket, we were heading back to I-17 and saw several garage sale signs that sucked us in like gypsies to a fountain full of tossed coins.  The first stop was not inspiring to me.  Neither was the second stop, even though I found some Mason jars for science experiments for twenty-five cents.  Ready for departure, I was at the van waiting for Rick, when I noticed he was trying to get my attention in a covert fashion.  Head nods, throat clearing, undecipherable silently-mouthed words.  What could he have possibly found at this old folks garage sale???  I meandered over to his location and got a close up view of his eyeballs bulging from his head.  He obviously thought he had hit pay-dirt, baby.  All I could see were some old metal airplane signs.  “Great!” I surmised sarcastically, “More junk to put in the garage.”  Rick whispered, “The guy went into the house to get some more aviation stuff!”  Imagine my excitement!  I felt no need at all to do a jig.  I could tell Rick did, but was refraining.  Out came stacks of books…. more metal signs… 8×10 glossy black and white photos… postcards… and two huge metal boxes of slides.  ALL of vintage airplanes.  Rick started asking the elderly gentleman about the collection.  Seems it belonged to his passed-away old buddy and he was unloading it.  With every new photo and flight training book, Rick was positively salivating… with eyes bulging and eyebrows raised… trying to convey the glory of the moment without anyone but me witnessing this jackpot.

I was standing next to my thrilled husband reviewing the “unexpected bill…. spending freeze” speech I had just endured.  It had left Rick’s mind temporarily.  As Rick is known to do, he talked the lovely old folks down to $50 for all the airline paraphernalia.  But he didn’t have $50 cash on him.  He asked where our nearest bank was and we were off in a flash to the ATM.  As soon as we got in the van and shut the doors, Rick started spewing joy unspeakable and gobs of glory about the collection.  He explained that “we” could sell it on eBay and make a bundle (“we” = me.)  What could I say?  I knew nothing of the value of dusty old airplane books from the 40s…. and hundreds of slides of airplanes that don’t fly anymore… not my idea of an eBay goldmine.

Ok, my thinking has since changed.  The first book (of 25 in the box) sold on eBay yesterday for $89.  … a few hours later SIX of the 300 slides sold for $21.50.  I was starting to drool myself… and I believe my eyes were bulging.  Was that a jig coming on?  Larisa asked if I was going to do my eBay dance.  Maybe.  Some of the pictures are so old, we don’t have a clue how to  explain the planes… so Gramps, we might elicit your expertise!

Current garage sale score: Rick 1 – Linda 0.

Black Friday 2009 (nine nine nine nine)

So it’s 5:24 am on the day after Thanksgiving.  BLACK FRIDAY!  The stores are teaming with avid, somewhat deranged, shoppers…. or so I’ve been told! Stores are giving away $1,000 gift certificates, 2,000 inch big screens for 49 cents, free popcorn, $10 off your $11 purchase, yada, yada, yada.  I’m only up because I was coughing so violently, I didn’t want to wake up and keep up my also sickly husband, who is snoring quite comfortably at the moment.  I’m drinking tea.  THAT is a tell-tale sign that I’m not well.  I only drink tea when I don’t feel up to my usual perky self.

Rick and I did get up at 5:00 am on BLACK FRIDAY three years ago, but it was not to shop and SAVE SAVE SAVE.  He had surgery #3 on his Achilles tendon at 7:00 am downtown.  I remember driving by the packed parking lot in front of Circuit City and wondering who came up with midnight shopping???  It’s crazy.  It’s only the crazy people who shop when they should be sleeping.  It’s the crazy people who come out at night when the moon in full.  Why would a store owner bend to the desires of the crazies?  And promote their uncouth crazy ways?

Now if the scrapbooking stores did the 3:00 am spend ten cents and get $400 worth of scrapping supplies, I’d be camping out in front of the store with my Coleman lantern, personal trimmer and pile of photos, rounding the corners for future pages.  But they don’t.  They’re not crazy.  See, this proves it that scrapbooking women are not crazy. 

OK, the bottom of my teacup is staring up at me.  I’m no longer coughing up a lung.  I can now go back to bed and dream of all the money I’m saving my husband by not participating in BLACK FRIDAY!  If you’re a CRAZY person, please let those of us who stayed in our warm beds know what we missed.

Tears & Laughter

My life seems to be on the replay cycle right now.  I was reading back to last year’s posts at this time…. I certainly don’t need to write about my events of Thanksgiving week this year… they are EXACTLY the same as last year:  Larisa’s play, Stove Top Stuffing, and three or four hockey games for Austin.  Please see 2008 posts if you’re wanting photo proof of what will transpire in my life this week.

I also listened to Third Day’s song Merry Christmas about the orphan child who is not home for Christmas… and I cried…. again.  (For a good cry go here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcPBA9-wyZE&feature=related ) I just don’t understand why we have to wait so long.  Or why Zaza has to wait so long for us to come and get her.  Distinctly I remember folding the damp dish towel after drying the Thanksgiving dishes and telling my mom and sister-in-law, Julie, that we were going to adopt.  That was 200SIX!  Three long years later, I never thought Zaza’s buttery yellow room and her curvy purple bed would still be vacant.  I realize that God’s timing is perfect and mine is not.  But it doesn’t bring me joy.

So, when the adoptive parent blues hit hard, I go to Bookman’s, my favorite used book store, and find adoption stories where moms and dads actually get to take home their child in the end of the book.  It makes me believe again.  There are happy endings.  Other mothers waited years and years and eventually hugged and kissed the child of their heart.  So last week I found and read this book:

I had half the book read before bedtime and finished the next morning.  I bonded with the author instantly as I read her prose.  She writes like I do… in incomplete sentences that drive English teachers CRAZY!  She used picture words to describe each and every one of the five senses from bitter tea to soft skin, hazy lighting and a hairy hand.  Her word choice inspired me to run to the computer and write, write, write.  She also had several funny, real-life experiences that Rick and I have actually had… like weighing our heads on the bathroom scale.  Wierd, I know.  But it made me feel less wierd, knowing someone else had done it too.  And her adoption story is very real.  I wanted to kick in some Russian teeth because of how she was treated.  I also longed to hold my little girl when she finally got to hold her little boy.  Needless to say, it was a good read with the happy ending I needed to push me through another month or two… or ten, God forbid.

Pride & Prejudice Overload

I finished sewing the dresses for Larisa, who is playing Lydia in P&P, in the nick of time. The lame pattern had these cute, inefficient draw strings at the neck and the empire waist…. that just produced a gaping hole with white skin showing on the back.  So I sewed the cord in place, chopped it off and put in a zipper.  Whew.  No ivory skin beaming forth.   I also made a green gown that had four handmade roses on it… which were also finished the night before the show.  WHEW, again.  The cute lavender dress kept blowing open in the back because the snaps and hooks wouldn’t hold up to Larisa’s flamboyant movements.  So I added some hooks and the squeezed them all tight with pliers…. and the dress stayed shut… but was very difficult to get off!

There is some sort of anti-family-photo regulation with the shows, so only the staff photographer can take any pictures.  So we’ll have to wait for those, which are always fabulous, by the way.  I just hate waiting.  AND I forgot my camera for before and after the shows… so I have no pictures.  But, alas, another dad posted pictures on facebook and I lifted one so you could see just the top of the cute lavender dress:

This is post-production hair that has been flattened by matching bonnets, by the way.  And that is Matt, aka Mr. Darcy…. and Hannah, aka Kitty, in the background.

So the Friday night show was a packed house and they had to bring in more chairs.  With such a lively crowd, the cast was also lively and the show was fantastic, if I do say so myself.  Larisa’s portrayed the giggly 16-year-old, Lydia, who runs away with Mr. Wickham…. the floozy.  But I must say, she portrayed her quite vivaciously and was the true comedy relief of the show…. bouncing, smiling, fluttering, primping, swaying, flirting, and on and on.  Makes a mama proud…. well, her ACTING ability…. not the floozy part.  :o)

A Swedish Tribute

Grandma Nikander’s Swedish Pancakes have been one of my favorite delicacies since the late ’60s.  Naively, I assumed it was a secret family recipe brought across the pond by scarf-donning ancestors, handed down and down and down to my Grandma in Eastern Oregon.  It probably was handed down, but I learned later in life that other people call them crepes… and eat them for every meal of the day…. and they aren’t very secret.  I vaguely remember visiting my Grandma in her later years, when she was no longer able to make her Swedish pancakes.  I thought the world had come to an end.  Little did I know that I would be standing over the stove flipping them for another 70 years.

My youngest son requests these drool-producing paper-thin pancakes at least once a week.  They are also a family favorite of the next generation, and to no surprise….. they are mouth-wateringly delicious.  They are a tad on the sweet side, yet airy and light…. I prefer them slathered in melted butter and sprinkled in powdered sugar.  We leave them rolled up…. always.  My boys pour maple syrup on them, but my daughter follows my powdery taste for sugary goodness.

I’ll even share the secret Swedish Pancake recipe!

In a blender mix: 3 eggs (without shells), 2 cups of milk, 2 Tbsp Sugar, dash salt, and 1 cup of flour.  I have used whole wheat flour, but honestly, they taste better with the white not-as-good-for-you-bleached-flour. 

Heat a non-stick frying pan to med-high heat.  I use #6.  Butter the pan before each pancake.  My soup ladle measures out the perfect amount of batter to cover the bottom of the pan.  I have to pick up the pan and swirl it to get a perfect circle.  When the surface of the batter is no longer shiny, flip the pancake.  When lightly browned, roll up and serve…. quick.

A perfect pancake for Thanksgiving morning.  Try it.  You’ll like it.

Keeve, Keeve, Keeve!

This past week, instead of blogging, I’ve been trying to keep up with my youngest son, Keeve, who is in the midst of his birthday week (why do only one day?!?) as well as other star-studded events that have blocked me from blogging.  For his party he wanted green balloons, green streamers, a green table cloth… and to play football at the park with all his friends (including a 38-year-old friend who was the only person over 12 years old that made the list.)

(that’s Kenadee!)

The excitement continued on Saturday (I always want to yell HEY! after spelling Saturday… like the Bay City Rollers) when the Keevester threw FOUR touchdown passes for the Ravens…. the first football team he’s ever played on.  I even brought my camera to the right game!!!  Uncle Rob (he’s my brother) was coaching and his cousin Drew (who, incidentally, was born on the same exact day as Keeve!) is also on his team.

THEN, if being a sports star was not attention-getting enough, Keeve was the grand prize winner of a 50-50 draw from Austin’s hockey team.  No, we don’t support gambling, but we do support Austin’s hockey team and 50% of the Rickster’s hard-earned money was going directly to Aus’ team.  Totally not gambling.  So Rick told the kids he would buy them each two tickets, but if they won, they had to split the winnings with him.  I bought six tickets of my own, so I didn’t have to split Rick’s money with him.  It didn’t help.  Anyway, Keeve’s name was drawn and he got this colorful envelope congratulating him on being the team’s winner…. are you wondering how much it was??? 

We were at the rink about an hour before the draw and they counted just over $500.  We figured it would be $260 or so.  Nope, $371!  I can’t believe it either.  So, being the saving-maniac that he is, Rick ALWAYS has the kids save 40% of any money they make.  They each have large savings accounts, thanks to their father.  I, on the other hand, would gladly help them spend it on fun and exciting things that they probably didn’t need.  So after tithing, savings and paying back a minor loan to me, Keeve was itching to get to a store.  Today in Staples I was finding the correct printer ink and I glanced over and Keeve pulled $70 out of his pocket.  My eyes lit up!  I already know what I want for Christmas!  But no.  He had his eye on several Nerf guns at Walmart and other weapons of warfare….. a black and white checkered Ford Mustang seat-belt belt, green sunglasses and a body pillow.  The luxury items of an 11-year-old!

Tomorrow is his actual birthDAY… so we’re off to Krispy Kreme and then his cousin’s birthday party.

(I won a gallon of Alpenrose ice cream when I was 6!… winning runs in the family.)

For Females ONLY!

Today’s blog is brought to you by StayFree mini pads.  Yes, it’s a private female topic.  But the reason it made the very public blog is because a son of mine, who shall remain nameless to protect his masculinity, sat at the kitchen table last night eating toast and reading the StayFree package.  I noticed this odd occurrence out of the corner of my eye, and wondered, hoped and prayed that I would get off scot-free without having to discuss the contents of the little pink package.  (It was on the table with all the newly purchased “upstairs” products waiting to be taken up the stairs…. toothpaste, foundation, TP.)  Why couldn’t he have read the Crest box???

As he munched on his PB&J toast, he thoroughly read the entire package.  He’s a quick reader, so he may have even re-read some of the eye-opening information on that little pink plastic wrapper.  Finally, my hopes were dashed, and he inevitably asked, “Mom, what are these for?”

It was one of those moments when time is suspended in mid-air as a myriad of questions went through my mind before I answered.  Questions like, Did his father explain THIS part of the birds and bees? and Does this call for a short non-specific answer, like ‘For girls’? and Does he really want to know what those are for…. or is he stalling his bedtime?  and also Will this information give him nightmares?

So, I went with the I’m-the-good-mother-who-gives-her-children-correct-answers answer.  (Mom, you may want to stop reading now.) In a brief 27 seconds I explained that when a girl reaches about the age of 12 her body prepares to have babies.  If it is not time for her to have a baby, she bleeds for one week every month.  It’s called a period.  Those are pads that girls put in their underwear so they don’t get their underwear bloody. 

I held my breath.  Would there be more questions about babies and bleeding and bodies and such?  Much to my relief, he gently put down the package and stood up from the table to clear his plate to the counter.  And it was over.  That was it.  I broke out in a sweat for nothing!  Why do I make such a big deal about these situations?  I don’t know!  Looking back, I did OK.  It went down without trauma (on his part)…. I think.

When my husband gets home from Houston on Friday night, I’m sending him in our son’s room to make sure HE gets asked any follow-up questions that I know have developed over the past 24 hours.

Thank you, StayFree, for helping me lose 3 pounds in perspiration last night.

Golden Rings

Onions go in 75% of the meals that I cook on a regular basis.  So at the back of my mind, when I’m in the produce section of a grocery store, I usually have a mental picture of exactly how many onions are currently in the bottom vegetable drawer of the fridge.  Lately that picture has become foggy… and I bought more than were necessary at any given time.  There were two full red-net bags glaring at me through the plastic drawer every time I opened the fridge. 

THEN, last Saturday I decided to buy produce in bulk from Bountiful Baskets, a local co-op where you get fresh fruit and veggies at a local park at 8 a.m….. and you have to bring your empty laundry basket in order to transport them all home.  (Of course I forgot mine!)  It’s $15 and well worth the “ugly wives club” trip early Saturday morning.  Last week there was an Italian focus…. hence…. MORE onions. 

So this morning I announced that I was going to make onion rings for the first time in my life.  The kids are used to off-kilter announcements, so no one really got excited or alarmed.  My daughter did ask, “Why?”   “There are probably 20 onions in the fridge and we need to use them up.”  She proceeded to tell me that she had recently learned about exaggerating and saying-what-you-really-mean in her writing class, and SURELY there weren’t 20 onions in the fridge.  I thought there might actually be 20, so I counted.  She was right.  I exaggerated.  There were only 17.

On with onion ring production.  I sliced.  I cried.  I sliced some more.  I cried some more.  Austin assisted me in making the batter and Larisa stood by while I scooped lard into the electric frying pan.  She was beyond grossed out.  I questioned, “Didn’t you know what FRIED food means?”  But, alas, the lard before her eyes brought fast food to a new and grosser level than ever before. (Good!)

The golden rings of grease were actually quite tasty, but not as good as the ones at Sonic, according to my youngest son.  (Then stop eating them with two hands full!)  I have not deep-fried anything for years…. maybe 10 years.  It is pretty disgusting.  Moving on, my son commented, “They are good, Mom, but they taste like they aren’t good for you.”  Both Rick and I said simultaneously, “You mean the grease on your lips?”  hahahahaha!

I informed that family that I had used fresh onions (a VEGETABLE!) and whole wheat flour and skim milk for the batter…. so they ARE good for you.  They ALL rolled eyes at me… their very own mother!

We’re having French Onion soup for lunch and then grilled onions for dinner.  It makes me feel so healthy and my sinuses are clear!

A Copy and Paste Blog from Kelly

Kelly is my blog sister who lives in Tennessee and is also adopting from Colombia with Gladney Center for Adoption.  We both decorated our little Colombian princesses’ rooms in mariposas de la lavanda (lavender butterflies)!  Her blog this past week could have been written from my heart as much as it was from hers.  So here is Kelly’s post that says exactly how I’m feeling too:

We’d Love a Referral in November–It Is National Adoption Month =)

I love talking about our adoption journey. I’m happy to share how God has called us to adopt. November is National Adoption Month, but even if it wasn’t I’d still be telling our story.I love how God has put this love in my heart for a little girl that I don’t even know anything about. I don’t know how old she is, what she looks like, where she is exactly (maybe she is @ Chiquitines, but maybe she’s not there yet). She may not even be born yet, but still I love her.

**(Zaza is born already, but we don’t know what region she is in.)

I love hearing the boys pray for their little sister. There isn’t much that is sweeter, if you ask this momma =) 

There are so many things that are hard to explain to people, when I’m trying to share our story. I have learned though, that some people just don’t get “it.” Countless times I have been asked why we are going to Colombia, and why we are not adopting here @ “home.” Really people just don’t get “it.” I am thankful that God has made it clear to us, that our daughter is in Colombia. Now, I just have to be patient & wait for the details of the rest of our journey. We know that we will not be traveling in 2009, because the courts in Colombia close Dec. 15th to Jan. 15th. There is still a possibility that we will get our referral this year & then we would travel when the courts opened in January. This is our prayer. Have I ever told ya’ll how hard waiting is? =)

**From http://whatweareherefor.blogspot.com/