Because it's Monday and you need more coffee...

After a brief, shining moment, the week is back, and it wants revenge for all the fun you had without it over the weekend. Distract it with this and maybe it will forgive you and play nice...

Dear Husband,

The vacuum cleaner broke, and the children didn't, therefore I am selling the house. We're moving to North Dakota where the buffalo roam and the hotel maids do windows. When you get off work, head north and follow us. I'm leaving a trail of breadcrumbs, cracker crumbs, spilled milk, and legos.

Hugs and kisses!

The Wife

Because it's Monday and I've been spending too much time in front of mom's big screen TV

nataliedee.com

Because it's Monday and you need more coffee...

After a brief, shining moment, the week is back, and it wants revenge for all the fun you had without it over the weekend. Distract it with this and maybe it will forgive you and play nice.

Happy Father's Day

My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, "You're tearing up the grass." "We're not raising grass," Dad would reply. "We're raising boys." ~Harmon Killebrew

 
Whether it be the foster agency calling or the stork, the father of my children has always smiled his broadest at the news a baby was on the way. That is the kind of man I married. He's just awesome that way.

 

"I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection." -- Sigmund Freud

"My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it." -- Clarence Budington Kelland

Yes, it's crazy sometimes. Sometimes it's even messy. He knows how to laugh and that's the best medicine! He's the kind of man who doesn't mind reading stories when he's tired, kissing boo-boos when someone's screaming, or shaving when there's an audience.

He's my kind of guy, that Mr. Martin!

Happy Father's Day

A pet what?

If you've never experienced a nightmare in the middle of a telephone conversation, let me share that it is somewhat awkward and distracting. Mine began when a friend mentioned a new pet spider.

"A pet what?" I asked in a small and girly voice.

"A Tarantula. From my sister. She keeps giving me things," she replied in a breezy way.

"!!?" I said speechlessly, knowing deep in my soul my sister would never, ever do such a thing to me. My imagination, on the other hand, did terrible things. I was suddenly standing next to a cage with a lid ajar, my friend looking puzzled and saying, "That's odd. I wonder what...HOLY CRAP!"

In the real world something in my voice

or in my manner of hyperventilating into a brown paper sack alerted my friend to my unease. "He's great," she reassured me. "He's not bitten the kids or me or anyone."

Yet.

I'm toughing this one out. The fact that I'm still accepting phone calls from her spider-infested phone line shows how much I value this person and our budding friendship. I'm even willing to discuss the new pet. I will wear a bee suit in 100 degree heat when I call, but I am determined to be brave.

A Musical Interlude...

This one is for Nancy (it's an old favorite)


This one is for Rozanne...


For Andy...


For Rod


This one is for me!

I met my goal!

I did it! I'm down a dress size for Father's Day! Whoot!

I am a jeanyoos!

We've had no end of trouble with kids' clothes coming off the line and going into the wrong drawer. My middle-aged brain can't remember which outfit goes where all the time, especially with those hand-me-downs (Is this still hers? Or hers? Or is this the baby's now?) Now that the kids are involved in the stashing of clean laundry there are more misdirected items than ever.

The other day I had a bright and shining moment as I was turning a shirt right side out. Why don't I just leave the clothes inside out? That way the tag hangs out and I can easily see which size I am dealing with. No more fumbling around the necklines, the waists, and side seams to look for tags--they'll be sticking out with their sizing information for all the world to see.

Now to work on actually doing the laundry. *sigh*

Because it's Monday and you need a Beaker of Coffee...

Sunday Mass? Yeah, it was great. The choir sounded beautiful. But I forgot to let Robert announce the Communion song before belting it out AND Sissy pulled my skirt up and over her head. Otherwise, a typical Sunday.

A thought for a Sunday...do it anyway

It's not a big victory...

...but it's mine!

I actually sewed a dart into a pair of my son's new shorts today. Natural born Martins have no natural butt to keep pants and skirts from hitting the floor; belts are a necessary item in the Martin household. My youngest son, however, dislikes a belt almost as much as he loathes suspenders. Being that he's too big for the "slim" sizes and too small for the "regular," we've spent a lot of time pulling up pants around here and viewing the various tail end designs of pull-ups.

Not any more, though! I'm custom tailoring now! Look out Vogue!

Adoption Thought

Here's my thought of the day...you know how people always have a vague fear of adoption? You can hear it in the thought "I would consider it, but you never know what you're going to get." I agree completely. You never know. And did you know the only child I have out of five that has special needs was born to me? All children, born or brought into your home, are a surprise.

If you know anyone even vaguely toying with the "A" word, here's a book you can read and pass along.

In Adoption psychologist, husband, and father of 10 adopted children, Dr. Ray Guarendi, considers the most commonly asked adoption questions with insight, humor, and understanding. He's been there and done that ten times over!

I've got an autographed copy. Click here to read more.