I love homecomings. I hate goodbyes but homecomings are the best. After being gone for four days I finally got home. The plane I was going to be on from Chicago never really left New Hampshire. So instead I was rerouted to WAshington DC. We had literally 20 minutes to run the concourses. It worked though. I didn’t know how our luggage and things would make it, but they saw to it.
As soon as the kids and I saw each other we ran towards each other like we hadn’t seen each other for years. I was hungry to feel their little bodies close to mine and to hear all about their weekend with Sashoo and Happy. They had an absolute blast.
I went to bed happy and early. The two hour time difference kind of messed me up a little. The birds woke me up at the crack of freak. I know they feel it is their job to do so. On the flip side though I have a moment to write today.
*sigh….life is good
I am so glad to be home.

Honestly, I have been struggling. I have been struggling as I enter the new phase of parenting. Sometimes I feel as if I don’t have a clue. The new phase is…kids in school…me, migrating back into the work place. This being the first school year since being a stay at home mom for 10 years it is filled with internal conflict.
I have enjoyed being back to work. Granted having a personal stake in the business does help that some. Being that I want to be able to afford the fun things is nice. Thankfully I work with my mother or I think I would feel very hampered. She gives me the understanding of having off every time they have an activity. She was a working mom and missed a lot of what I did during the day. She isn’t about to let that happen to her grandchildren. Working with family has its advantages and disadvantages as well. With the obvious stated there were some things that I did not foresee.
The conflict comes in knowing that raising my children has always been the most important focus for me. I chose to stay home. It was my choice. My husband gave me the choice and then supported me. Granted that was not easy. There was a lot of conflict along the way of people not understanding why I would ever chose this. Now as I am choosing to work it makes a difference in how I feel about the fact that I am actually choosing to do so. I know…it’s a merry go round of emotions but it is just that.
I felt driven to be a stay at home mom. Some do not, but I did. Some feel driven by work. I am not wired that way. I feel driven by seeing my family thrive and do well even though our home situation can be different than most. I wanted to be super mom and failed miserably until I realized that no one but me had those expectations. I could only do as much as I could do. The rest could wait.
Even though this is the season of change in my life, I am looking forward to the adventure of life in itself. My children are past the baby and toddler stage and getting into the young lady and boy stage. I am weighing the pros and cons of working. One thing I know for sure is that I am not wasting a day of it. My husband and children will still have priority. That will never change.

So what was someone the other day saying about great hotel s*x? It looks like it’s my weekend away.
Goodbye snow. Hello ocean. Taking off today. New Hampshire here we come!

When it comes to pizza delivery individuals the great debate was whether to tip or not to tip. Some pizza delivery places give a milage bonus, some don’t. The mom and pop one down the street pays below minimum and then you keep the tips. Big chains generally give the above related bonus.
I think that 2-3 dollars on an average order is good. Anything that is for a group then adjust accordingly at 10-15 percent.
That’s my opinion and I’m sticking to it.

Going on a road trip with Hubby this weekend. Anyone near New Hampshire??!!??!! We are first flying into Chicago with a 2 hour layover and then on to Manchester. Running away with Hubby. HIs work is taking him there. Oh how I wish I could be in the lovely pizza place with Mamacita in Indiana, or running around with a bazillion kids with Sugar Mommy but alas hubby did not get his gig either place. It’s in New Hampshire. So…anyone close and want to do something on Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday?

I had a hot debate with my friend via IM over Pizza. Now who in their right mind would be willing to split hairs over the delicious thin crust yumminess but I will. Actually I will when it comes to delivery.
Here was the debate. With the rising price of gas…..how much is appropriate to tip a pizza delivery person? AND Should restaurants just go for a higher price and automatically tip is included so that you can just pay and leave?
Debate among yourselves…tomorrow I will give my response.

So what do you get when you work 50 plus hours, run kids hither and tither, stay up late cleaning house and neglect eating exactly healthy? You get a body that resigns itself to keeping you on your back for a while. That’s exactly what one gets. That’s exactly what I got.
So I am on my back for at least a few days for now. I found it quite interesting that they make pill bottles child proof but it’s also sick proof. I mean who in their right mind can open the ding dong bottles. Not me. I kept thinking to myself….”The pill of life and healing could be in the crazy bottle and I can not manage to open it.” So 104 degrees later and a bit of delirium I finally had to ask my child to open it. Not a problem for her at all. She got it in the first try. So then the question had to be asked….are childproof bottles really child proof or sick proof? Just askin’.
I got the influenza shot a little over a month ago. I fought it and fought it due to the fact that the last time I got one I got the flu. I have a new doctor and he practically insisted I have one. So guess what? I have influenza. I don’t give a rip about it possibly not covering this strain. All I know is that I am flat on my back wishing that my body might quit aching. I also have strept for the first time in like 30 years. I normally don’t get strept. I give it. With my system down may be my body has joined the ranks to lead me to hault. I am doing so.
Now I think I will quit typing. The mere tickle on the keyboard of my fingertips makes me feel like I am bashing them with a hammer.

So where have you been? What? No I haven’t been gone. Not at all. I haven’t been working like a dog the past few weeks? Nothing like trying to run a business without your partner. What a nutty thing. I told her that she could never ever go on vacation again. With that agreement made I feel as if I might have a moment to catch my breath.
We went to Hula Girl’s performance downtown at the Performing Arts Theater downtown. It was such a great show. The kids did a super fantastic job. The ticket price nearly took my breath away (46 per person) but it was worth seeing her do a super job.
HG has seemed to turn a corner. She seems more hormonal…yes but helpful. Kind of mother like. Weird. Good but weird I guess.
Hula Boy has struggled off and on with his eyes. He had surgery when he was 1 for clogged tear ducts. Now his beautiful blue eyes are starting to have issues again. When they went to fix his eyes at 1 they perferated the tear duct on both sides. The stint entered his duct but went out the other side. It was a mess. Nothing like sitting in the waiting room and all of a sudden everyone rushes to what you perceive as you son’s surgery room. Then they didn’t come out for 2 hours. 20 minutes was suppose to be the proceedure but 2 hours later (when I was a pacing, raging mother in the waiting room) they finally updated me. I am ashamed to say that I let them have it.
I have been working at developing our Edcor business and we have been busier than busy. One of the major hospitals has us coming and teaching 2 times a week lately. It’s nutty.
I hope all is well out there in blog land. Sorry I haven’t been around. Teaching has kind of taken over and keeps me busy. I love it though. So hugs to everyone. Hope to see you around the block.

I think the most difficult thing for me is to see my children grow up. I don’t know if difficult is really the best way to describe it. It is exciting to see them grow from phase to phase. Some phases I really could do without, then others are just exciting to see.
Last night after I tucked in the children I went downstairs to try to get to bed early. As I walked out I noticed myself listening for the old routine that has been done by us for years. There is normally a moment right as the lights go out that HG (even though she’s 10) still hunts in her bed for her bear. The bear that she has was HH’s that was given to him by his great grandmother. It has always been a bit of a security or habit per say.
Last night as we did the bedtime shuffle which is normally reading for a while, talking for a few minutes and then saying prayers and walking out. Then she normally does the bedtime war to find her bear. I have noticed that she hasn’t asked for it or looked for it for 2 months now. She noticed it last night.
“Mommy, I don’t want you to think that I am being weird but I don’t need Bear to sleep with anymore.” “I realize that honey.” was my response. “I like him sleeping with me, but I don’t have to have him. Honestly, I haven’t had to have him for a long time. I just like it.” “Yep.” was all I could say.
Every day is a new development towards her independence. It is in the small things first. So far the big stretch and butting heads hasn’t happened too much. Just the small things that cause me to wonder the same things most parents out there probably think about. When will she decide to stretch further. Hopefully I am ready for that. I don’t want to be one of those hover mothers that can’t let their children go, yet I am torn between that and wanting to keep her safe under my wing.
As bear sits on the window sill beside her bed I notice that there is more than one part of her moving on past childhood. Her innocence is still perfectly there. It’s her attitude and maturity. I hope I can handle it gracefully and with a little understanding.

Most of you get blips of my life through this blog. I write mostly about our children. Today I thought I would give you a snapshot of what inspired me.
Growing up my parents were so incredibly proud of me but also very strict and I would tend to say legalistic. Actually they would tend to say that as well now. They were extremely religious. Every time the church door was open we were there. My life consisted of church, Christian school and more church. I rarely made friends even in my own neighborhood. We were known as the weirdoes because we did not have a TV. I could not relate to most children talking about their favorite shows and movies because my parents did not believe in going to movies either.
Now granted the only time I ever missed these things was when the children would gather on the playground to play a certain story and I did not know what the story line was.
We went to a small Christian school with only 80 students in K - 12. I went there from the time I was 4 until 8th grade. I must admit I did enjoy the smaller school. As I got older I got over my clumsiness and channeled it into cheerleading and volleyball. I lived for the games. I met my three best friends there. They were both older than me but when you’re going out with one of their brothers that make you in the “in” group.
Four times a year we would go to the farm. The farm was where my grandparent’s lived and where my father grew up. It was in a Friends Community. It was a simpler life. I never could understand why my father would get so worked up whenever we went there. Years later he divulged the life he had on the farm. It was a life of strict and discipline. He recalled being brought to the barn on many occasions and not just spanked but beat. I can honestly say that my grandfather was just repeating what he had been raised with. Yes, there is a difference. One is done out of love and one out of anger. The cycle had been passed to my father’s generation.
When he was old enough to leave, he left and didn’t look back. When he met my mother and got married she knew that she would be the main disciplinarian. Even though some in both the Baptist and Friends community saw that as weakness, he had girls. He thanked God every day he had girls. I remember him saying it in a prayer at dinner. I asked him why one day. His response, “I think if you had been boys I would have repeated the cycle. My goal was to break the cycle of abuse. I don’t know that I would have been strong enough to do so had you been boys.”
I have since thanked my father repeatedly for acknowledging and wanting to be the first link in breaking the cycle of abuse. He credits my mother with her love and good home that she was raised in. He also credits God for the strength because we tried his patience sometimes on a daily basis.
I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like had he not recognized his need for self-restraint. I also think of how much he in a sense gave up so that my mother could handle us. Some still view it as weakness. I now view it as strength. I sometimes think that if I didn’t know the difference between disciplining out of love and anger how my children would be now. I now understand the role my mother had to play, loving both her husband and her children.
I greatly respect them for their choices and decisions. As I look into the faces of my happy children, I realize that my parent’s history has been one of many of their greatest gifts to me.