Who Knew?

We have had our fridge for almost 12 years. It came new with the house. I loved my new Whirlpool side-by-side, ice and water dispensing wonder of the kitchen gods. Notice that was past tense?

Through its 12 years of service the fridge has taken a beating… literally, unfortunately. In my absence, a child of mine, who was old enough to know better, spent an evening taking shots at my beloved refrigerator with a hockey stick and puck. He didn’t even bother trying to cover his tracks by wiping off the black puck marks in all 27 dents. It was a low point of my summer… I cried. Remember, I loved my fridge.

Then the ice maker stopped producing ice. We had a handyman come and “fix” it. Seems he wasn’t as handy as we hoped. To replace the whole ice maker it would suck $158 from my clothes shopping fund (because we didn’t have a ice-maker-replacement-fund at the time)… so I bought plastic ice cube trays at Walmart. BAM. Bring on six more flowy tank tops in bright colors with fringe on the bottom and bling on the front. Priorities, people.

Next the water dispenser stopped pouring water into my cup. I realize this is a first world problem. (No hate mail, please.) This was a while ago and if my memory serves me correctly, it was around the same time the stinky slime puddle was discovered growing three colors of mold under the fridge. Maybe during the clean-up (that made me gag profusely) the hose to the water dispenser got kinked or cut or removed at that time. Who knew?

Finally, the magnetism on the fridge door weakened so badly that if you shut the freezer, the fridge door opened just a smidge. Somehow this often happened after a son of mine made his midnight raid on the fridge and I would find the door still open in the morning. A smidge is a big enough gap on a side-by-side Whirlpool refrigerator to cause havoc inside the once-cold-box. The motor kicked into high gear, due to the warm kitchen air penetrating the cold barrier. This caused all of my vegetables in the two bottom crisper drawers to freeze solid… and the milk jugs in the door were warmer than cold. Ewwww.

After ten years of owning our home with 8 1/2 major appliances (Is a microwave major?) my thrift-minded and possibly doomsday-anticipating husband purchased a warranty for all major appliances. However, as our fridge was deteriorating before my hazel eyes, I did not remember the warranty purchase. I simply put the vegetables on the top shelf and continued filling ice cube trays.

Two weeks back, my handsome husband handed me a two-year-old warranty agreement and suggested I call to get the fridge fixed. WHAT? Maybe he was trying to get the most out of his $75 call-out fee and waited for three things to be wrong with the fridge. Again, who knew?

Last week the friendly repair man came, looked the fridge over, I paid him $75 and he left. Yesterday, he showed up again and fixed ALL the problems with my fridge, with the exception of the hockey puck dents. BUT, the water tasted horrible coming out of the dispenser… and I knew the new ice cubes were being made with the same horrible water.

Today I looked up the water filter number and ordered a new one on Amazon prime. It will be at my house in two days. BAM!

All this to ask, DID YOU KNOW YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE CHANGING YOUR FRIDGE WATER FILTER EVERY SIX MONTHS? Who knew? We have saved money on 23 replacements filters that we never bought…. that is $456.55! Saving cash like a boss.

 

 

 

Happy Birthday, Rickey!

Frontier Airlines was having a screaming deal on plane tickets from Phoenix to San Francisco as 2015 approached. A friend of mine alerted me to the $20.15 tickets and I immediately checked the dates they were available. Then I checked the Edmonton Oilers schedule and the stars aligned for my die-hard-Oiler-fan husband. The cheap ticket and the Oilers playing the Sharks in San Jose all landed the day before his 48th birthday! (Yes, the return ticket was a bit more, but STILL!)

Rick was swimming in a sea of turquoise in the Shark tank for sure!  But, seeing it was Rickey’s birthday and he flew in to watch his team, the Oilers pulled out a win in a shootout…. just for Rick.  It was picture perfect. (In case you are not familiar with the Edmonton Oilers, they are a come back team. Rick has told me this for years. We are still waiting for them to come back. How many first round draft picks will they get before they come back? We don’t know. Jesus may come back first.)

Lasagna and black forest cake were awaiting Rick’s return on his actual birthday. He told me this was the best birthday gift I have ever given him…….  (to send him away from me for his birthday)…. hmmmmm. I think there is oil in his blood.

Happy 48th birthday, Rick!  I love you!

I Get by with a Little Help from my Friends

My handsome husband and I are still in our forties…. barely. By the skin of our teeth, but we ARE!  We were caught off guard this week when we both asked for help with COMMON words that we could not remember. I started the memory-fail game by asking, “What are those things called that come out of the ocean and are shaped like stars?” The confused look on his face lead me to believe he thought I was joking. Sadly, I was not. “Starfish?” Oh, yeah… and we broke out into laughter because laughter is good for your soul.  And after you can’t recall the word starfish and/or you realize your spouse can’t recall the word starfish you need something…. anything that is good for your soul.

The very next day hubby was at the kitchen table texting someone, looked up and asked me, “What are those things called that go up in the sky and explode in pretty colors?”  …. I looked at him with that same confused look he gave me the previous day and answered, “Starfish?  … or did you mean fireworks?”  And we both laughed heartily again, as this seems to be the go-to response for aging in our home.

And names!  GAH! Really, we should all have our names tattooed on our foreheads, then there would be no need for racking our brains to remember names. I loved it when my boys were little and on hockey teams with their names written on the their helmets on hockey tape. Easy Peasy. My husband and I have an unwritten rule that I am talking with a person and he walks up, if I don’t introduce him, it means I have forgotten the person’s name. Then he puts out his hand and says, “Hi, I’m Rick,” and saves the day.  It works perfectly!

Mothers have forgotten their children’s names for all of history and that is somehow forgiven and thought of as common. When we were recently in the DMV for son #2’s driver’s license, his number was called and he started walking toward the counter without the needed paperwork that was in my hand. So I called him… by his father’s name… and then added, “Or whoever you are.” He turned back to get the papers and rolled his tootsie-roll brown eyes at me. Another mother seated a few seats over laughed and said that she does that all the time with her kids! That didn’t really make me feel better… just commiserated with company.

I won’t even get into trying to follow recipes at the ripe old age of 48. Don’t get me started. Don’t even get me started.

Oh the Wonders of Anesthesia!

My husband, who shall remain nameless, but whose initials are Rick Crosby, had surgery on his old, decrepit knee on Tuesday this week. He’s been wearing a knee brace to play hockey for eight or nine years, ever since a catastrophic skiing day with our family in Canada. Finally two weeks ago, he completely tore his ACL and limped even with the brace on until this week.  Now he snores on the couch while his polar pack keeps his elevated knee nice and chilly.

The night after surgery is ALWAYS entertaining with this man. I should know. This is surgery #5 for us. Our children found his erratic comments highly entertaining and I scribbled them down as fast as I could so we could read them to him in the morning…. AND for your reading pleasure today. Here you go!

(He is wearing a full-leg support stocking on the non-hurt leg.) “Why is my white leotard dirty? Lin, how come it’s dirty?” I explained that he kneeled on the floor in the van to get his heavily medicated self into the vehicle for the ride home. “Well that carpet in the van is FILTHY!” (Not really.) I told him that we have another one that is clean for him to put on later. “Oh! I have two pair. Is it two pair or two pairs? Two pair. Two pairs. Do you know, Lin?” (He only has one pair.)

(To our two teenage boys) “What did you guys do today? … I had surgery!” (No duh!)

I asked Rick if he needed some pillows to prop himself up. “Yeah, some pillows or a hockey bag.” (How comfortable!)

“Lin, are you getting my pain pills at CSV?” (It’s called CVS.)

“Can I have some more pizza?” I explained that he couldn’t because he was supposed to take eating slowly after surgery. “I am going slow! It took me forever to eat those two pieces!”

(While I’m at the store….) “Nora, just bring me a piece of pizza and I will pay you a dollar. Your mom’s gone. She won’t know.” (Nice!)

(We were having a party dinner for Nora because it was her Gotcha Day, four years since she joined our family.) “How come everything is purple?”

(Nora started opening her gifts.) “What is taking her so long?” (It had been eight seconds.) “Someone help her!… Keeve, help your sister!… Is she almost done opening her birthday presents?”

(Nora opened a purple headband.) “Is that a halter top?” (Oh my!)

I wanted to take a picture of Nora and her Daddy for Gotcha Day. When I finished, Rick asked, “Who else wants to get their picture taken with me?” Both boys said, “No, I’m good!” Rick yelled, “Keeve get over here!” So we have pictures of the boys both laughing so hard as they get their pictures taken with him.

“I’m really hungry. I haven’t eaten for 20 hours.” I reminded him of the two pieces of pizza he just ate and told him to drink his water. “I will! Holy smokes, this straw is HUGE!”

“Hey…. um… are the Oilers playing tonight?” (Edmonton Oilers, his favorite hockey team.) Austin replied sarcastically, “Yes, and the score is two to three and Gretzky just scored!” (Gretzky hasn’t played on the Oilers since the early 90s.) “The Oilers SUCK this year!” (He would NEVER say this, even though it’s true.)

I suggested that Nora go share a purple Tic-Tac with her father. “Yeah, I won’t choke. I’m good!” (Sure you are, honey!)

“What day is it?” Tuesday. “It’s cheap night at the theaters!” (You’re not going anywhere, Superman.)

“What year is it?” Austin, again, sarcastically answers, 1987. “Hey, that’s the year I got married.” Then he looked around at the three kids with this confused look on his face and said, “I must have had insta-kids!”

Our daughter called from Oklahoma to enjoy the festivities surrounding anesthesia. Her father explained all about Lady Mary Crawley from Downton Abbey and how she is the tall one with dark hair who is grieving because her husband died. (WOW!)

Then our daughter’s boyfriend got on the phone and Rick asked when he is coming to visit. He replied December 26th. “Oh! Boxing Day! That’s the day before wrestling day, but you’re not supposed to do that until you’re married!” (What in the world???? I apologize on his behalf, John.)

And the entire night he kept asking, “WHAT is so funny?”  You are, dear. You just can’t make this stuff up!

Holy Hockey Stick, Batman!

It’s hard to see, but there are five hockey sticks among our other “sticks”.  This used to be our only holder for hockey sticks in our garage. Not any more.

These are next to the inside door of the garage… divided by lefties and righties.  I’m not sure why these can’t go in the stick holder shown previously.  But that is not all……

These are the hockey sticks by the outside garage door……. obviously this is where the goalies sticks go….. but I’m not sure why the others (which are also divided by lefties and righties) can’t go with the others further inside the garage???  It’s all a mystery to me.

The GOOD NEWS is my husband was looking on Craigslist for hockey sticks, because obviously we don’t have enough yet.  And he saw an add for a guy that buys old wooden sticks for making furniture…. get this… $2 each!  He shoots!  He scores!  So the pictures that I’ve shared here are the sticks that are worth MORE than $2 each in my husband’s mind.  He just finished putting about TWENTY sticks in the back of his truck to sell to the hockey stick furniture guy!  I guess this is Spring cleaning… hockey style!  My guess is that half the hockey sticks that were in the garage just left!  Whooo HOoooOooooo!

Did I mention that we live in Phoenix, Arizona?  Not exactly a booming hockey town.

16 Years Ago Tonight…

Sixteen years and two days ago, I went to the hospital to have a baby.  But the baby, despite his gargantuan size, was feeling quite cozy and decided not to come out yet.  So, with the IV still in my hand, I was sent home for a “good night’s sleep”…. whatever.  I felt like I had swallowed a watermelon… I was measuring 43 cm across the giant mound.  It was TIME!  It was actually nine days PAST the due date, but my four children NEVER paid attention to due dates.

Ironically, it was the Canada Cup hockey game that night….. and it was playing on the TV in the hospital.  And my husband was enthralled in watching the grown men on thin blades of steel, balancing on slippery ice, using weapons to hit a rubber puck at the net. Thankfully, my friend Barbie had come to visit me on the supposed night of my birthing… and gave me a ride home…. with the IV still in my hand…. for my “good night’s sleep.”

We went back to the hospital on September 13th, in hopes of delivering a child.  We never found out the sex of our children until we could see proof with our own eyeballs.  So, we were unaware that it was our first SON…. and unaware that he had the largest head ever to travel through a birthing canal.  The memory still makes me wince and sit delicately on my chair.  After much pushing and pulling and prodding and probing, Austin was born at the stroke of midnight.  The doctor asked us if we wanted his birthday to be Friday the 13th, or Sept. 14th…. that is how I heard it anyway… and we chose the 14th.  For 16 years, September 13th has held a special place in my heart as the day I almost had a son.

He looked like a hockey player who had recently lost a fight at the blue line, due to some of the prodding and probing… but we loved  him anyway.  Looking back, this was the first of four or five times the skin would be missing on his face.  It should have been a red flag for me as his mother, but no.

Tomorrow Austin turns 16…. but it could have been today.  Oh, the power in the hands of a mother on the birthing table.

Happy Birthday, son.  You have shown yourself worthy of being a fighter to overcome insurmountable odds… from the very beginning.  I’m so proud of the man you are becoming.  My buttons are bursting, almost as badly as September 13th, sixteen years ago!

Typical for Me!

Tuesday morning my terribly athletically addicted son got up when the first number on the clock was a FOUR… and went to “stick time” at the local ice arena.  When a seven appeared on my clock, I entered the land of the non-sleeping and hurried off to meet a fellow crazy homeschool mom to plan our brains out for the coming school year.  It was a good time at Cabin Coffee…. a quaint little coffee shop that actually made me feel like I was in Lake Tahoe for a few hours…. logging saws on the wall, logs sticking out everywhere… bears… lanterns… circular saw blades.  Very cabin-y.  When all that was finished, I went to Austin’s friend’s house to pick him up after their pre-dawn hockey adventure.  I pulled into the driveway and hopped out to knock on the door.  No answer.  I rang the doorbell several times.  There were no dogs barking, which made me curious…. that they would keep a collie outside in August in Phoenix.  A bit frustrated that my son wasn’t waiting for me with great anticipation… I called his cell phone. “Dude, I’m at the front door.”  “That’s funny, Mom, because we are outside the front door too!”  “Oh.”  Wrong door.  I was really close.. just one house away.  Thankfully the neighbors weren’t home.

Today my overly popular babysitting daughter was watching two little girls a few streets over.  She has watched these two for over a year.  At 6:22 pm as I was enjoying a Caesar salad with mushroom and olives and a delectable boca burger, the aforementioned daughter texted me and asked me to come pick her up.  I dropped my fork, grabbed my keys and was out the door before anyone could yell “Cowabunga, Dude.”  So I pulled up and honked the horn… just like a tacky date would!  My daughter did not appear.  I hopped out of the van and knocked on the front door.  This time the dogs barked like CRAZY miniature attack animals.  But no one answered the door.  Then I heard voices… coming from the next door house… and I recognized one voice.  I was really close…. just one house away.  Thankfully the neighbors weren’t home.

Typical for me!

Can you say Haboob?

Our re-entry to Phoenix, after a cool and lovely trip to Northern California, was not only welcomed by the largest haboob (sand storm) in recent history… but HUMID heat.  Whatupwitdat?  It’s supposed to be a dry heat.  We’re famous for DRY heat.  We got into our van on the day after we arrived home and the thermometer was burning the number 118 into my sweaty eyeballs.  Nora, my 7-year-old, who is experiencing her first Phoenix summer, whined, “Why couldn’t we just stay in Tahoe?”  I wondered the same thing!  Dry 107 is NOT the same as humid 107.  Not even close.

Photo credit to Dan Z. http://www.flickr.com/photos/55358384@N04/5907025323/

My plan to have the garage cleared for my van’s shady shelter through the scorching months has not yet materialized.  It’s too hot to clean the garage.  Why didn’t I think of this in January???  I went out there quickly at 7:00 am and analyzed the situation.  Biggest obstacle: city-certified rolling trash AND recycle cans.  They are huge… and stinky on occasion.  All the other junk (hockey nets, weight bench, bicycles, hockey equipment, kayaks, huge alternative fuel gas tank, shop vac, etc.) can be put on the unseen side of the house in the backyard.  But the non-attractive rolling trash receptacles have to be accessed on different days and dragged to the road.  “Put them behind your side gate,” is the logical answer.  But we have Houdini, the escape dog, as a beloved pet.  Not only is our side gate double supported with plywood on the back (because of Houdini breaking the slats to escape) but there are cinderblocks on both sides of the gate, so Houdini won’t push through.  There is a 4×4 buried in the ground under the gate as well, to hinder dig-through escape attempts.  Houdini is only 11 pounds.  But she is a wily and surprising 11 pounds.

So, my plan is to keep the cans in the front yard on the side of the house that is least visible from the road.  AND, get this, put a huge pot with a prolific plant in front of them.  We have Nazis on our HOA board, but I think this might work.  Afterall, we haven’t received a letter from them in at least two months now.  The letters have come regularly… for six years…. every few months… for basketball hoops… wrecked cars in the driveway…. cars parked in the street… weeds…. garbage cans NOT behind the gate… and my personal favorite, 50 pink flamingos standing in our yard.  Hey, the pot-with-prolific-plant shield is worth a try so I can get the van in the garage.  I’ll keep you posted.

Milestones for the Month

We have reached several milestones in our lives this month. None has gone by without notice…. and with much thanksgiving in our hearts.

Jan. 14…..   FOURTEEN years since we made the big move from Alberta, land of the Oilers, to Phoenix, land of the Coyotes.  The two hockey teams face off this Tuesday night here in Phoenix and we will be there.  Oilers are doing so poorly this year, I can’t bring myself to wear the jersey.  But Rick will…. and I’ll be sitting next to him. 

Jan. 20…. my baby sister turned 40.  That just means I’m closer to 50.  Milestone… whatever.

(I made this cool t-shirt that says “Christy is 40… yippy!”)

Jan. 22…… Nora has been in her forever family for one month!  It seems like so much longer than that!  She is fitting in perfectly… unbelievably, really.  She is such a happy little girl from the moment she wakes up… bringing pure joy to our home.  We are thankful that God had us picked out for her years ago… as we prayed and waited.  If I had made a list (which I partially did in my mind) of all the characteristics I hoped she would have that are similar to our family, I don’t think I would have listed all of the ones she came with!  God knows what he’s doing, people, when he places orphans in families. 

Jan. 23…. the end of the first week after Austin’s snowboarding accident.  I am amazed once again at God’s healing hand and his creation of the body that heals itself!  Austin’s face looks 90% better than it did seven days ago.  We are so thankful that no bones were broken (a hairline nasal fracture does not count – no cast required!) and he’s doing okay mentally and physically.  It could have been so much worse!  Austin has an appointment in Feb. with the neuro-psychologist for baseline testing.  I’m relieved that it is finally being done!  Sadly, it took 6 (or 7?) concussions to get him into the office!  Sheesh!

Thankfulness is leaking out of my heart today.  What do you have to be thankful for?

My Son (the stud) is now Famous!

(Photo: David Wallace)

Here is the link to the news story on Austin, our 14-year-old son.  (My name is even in bold in the article!!!) 

http://www.azcentral.com/sports/heatindex/articles/2010/09/21/20100921heat-index-crosby-triathlon.html

COOLIO!