Not So SAHM

Hello Snot…I mean Autumn.

Around here Mother Nature has not completely realized fall has come. Temperatures have still been pretty warm, like she is clinging onto summer with all her might. My daughter’s nose, however, knows exactly what time of year it is. We were down in the historical triangle of Jamestown, Williamsburg and Yorktown when the first day of fall fell. In fact, I would like to thank someone in either our Jamestown or Yorktown group for passing along the crud to my family, right in time to celebrate the changing of the seasons.

Viruses tend to manifest themselves in Reagan and me as head colds. Our throat will feel itchy, extra drainage may grace us. Right now we’re just dealing with the itchy throat part. Poor Ashlyn though, she gets croup. And a runny nose. I’m praying that we vanquished the croup monster last night with a little steam time in the bathroom and the vaporizer.

The snot though, well, that’s here to stay for at least a week or six. Both my kids’ noses leak like a sieve and neither care to blow very much to alleviate the blockage and drainage. TMI yet? I don’t know about you, but I cannot stand the feeling of something running down my face, particularly in the under-nasal area. My kids don’t seem to mind though. It shocks me at the amount of snot that can be hanging around above their upper lip and they are going about their business like they don’t have issues. And they like tissue alright. During snot season our house looks like it’s been raining tissue snow balls. Yet, how do they still have snot running down their noses? Is that lip gloss? No, it’snot.

So for the foreseeable future I will be Mommy Snotty trying to stop the runny noses in their tracks and failing miserably. You’ll be able to recognize me. I’ll have the two snot-nosed kids wearing Amish caps (at least one will), tissues falling out of our pockets and my hands will be chafed from washing them so frequently. Funny? No, it’snot.

I wish I were a carnie

I lie. After what Du and I experienced the other day, you couldn’t pay me to work at a fair ride. I guess that really wouldn’t matter anyway since carnies don’t get paid much (or so we’ve heard) and we volunteered for this, this, sacrificial loving opportunity.

Our church has a Community Day every year and this year we hear it was bigger than all others. Kids and their parents from all over Alexandria and Springfield came to partake in free hotdogs, free drinks, free pony rides…and free three minute stints in the bouncy castle. We had the pleasure of working the bouncy castle for two of the three hours during this festival of free-for-all.

You would think that once kids are on holy ground they might act differently than the regular hellions little imps that most children are (now do you see why we waited six years to have a child?). Not so. These kids showed exactly how little instruction they get in manners and rule following at home. I can say this, even with a child who daily tests our instructions on manners and rule following, because she only tests us, her parents. I think.

Rule: Wait your turn in line. Obvious enough. That’s a societal rule, not just Du&Vicki’s Bouncy Castle of Fun rule.
What actually happened: Kids appeared out of nowhere diving into the castle. I kept having to grab them by their pants waist to prevent them from getting in. And then they look at me as if I just stole their candy.

Rule: Take of your shoes and wait until everyone has exited the bouncy castle before entering said bouncy castle.
What actually happened: Parents had to quickly snatch off shoes while kids were dog piling other kids in efforts to be the first in.

Rule: Don’t kill other kids in the bouncy castle. Show some common courtesy.
What actually happened: Kids jumped on other kids like they were the bouncy part of the castle. Even after I told them to stop.

Rule: Please exit the contraption when the kind man says time is up.
What actually happened: Du had to run interference to force kids out of the castle. Honestly, are these kids ever told about listening to and obeying adults?

We actually did have a good time. As much as I make it sound completely horrible, it was fun to see the kids have such a good time, and most of the parents were good natured. However, what gets me maddest the quickest, is children being disobedient or disrespectful. I can handle kids not knowing where the line is, or not being able to pick out a piece of candy from the bucket without it being a major life decision, or crying when their parents pull them from the castle. But the deliberate disobedience and disrespect made me want to… Well, let’s just say I’d like to ask some of the parents who their parenting mentor is and what exactly are they doing to ensure that their children are productive members of society in the future.

And here is where I need to write “touché”. We were managing the bouncy contraption for two hours. For about one hour and a half of those two hours Ashlyn was either attached to my hip or sitting in a mess on the ground screaming her lungs out. I am so surprised she could actually talk the next day. Why was she crying, you ask? The simple little fact that either Daddy or I was in the castle and she couldn’t be in there with us. Whichever one was out with her, she wanted to be with the other one. She was hungry. She was thirsty. She was hormonal (oh Lord, I know we’ll help when that starts happening). She wanted to go home. She wanted to ride the pony.

In order to try to appease her, and make every other fair goer’s experience a pleasant one, I gave in and held her on my hip for over half the time. So, not only was she screaming her lungs out, she was screaming her lungs out two inches from my right ear drum. And, so not only was I having to manage all the kids and their parents and the little stinkers trying to sneak in, I was having to do all this one handed, talking as loudly as I could to be heard over the screaming.

All for Jesus though. If one family that attended our Community Day starts attending church and becomes believers then it will not have been in vain. As a matter of fact, hopefully some seeds were planted that day that already make it a success in Kingdom standards. My eardrums, my muscles, my sanity are not mine. They are Yours Lord.

I wish I were a Founding Father (happy birthday Constitution!)

That would rule out me being Amish wouldn’t it. They are (and were during Colonial and Revolutionary times) pacifists and don’t get involved in government or politics or things like revolutions.

The signing of the Constitution
17 September 1787

The only reason I know this is because I follow “people” like the Smithsonian and the Library of Congress on Twitter and the word was being spread. I didn’t know off hand where the Constitution was housed and if it would be accessible to the public on Constitution Day. I would later realize that my cousin lives right across the street from the National Archives where the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights and the Magna Carta are all located. The girls and I got there early in case there would be a line. There wasn’t. Shame.

An overcast, slightly chilly day. Perfect for my orange trench! And you can see that Reagan still is playing the role of Amish girl.
We even got our pictures taken by two Japanese girls (reminiscent of the Buddhist Monk experience).

The Magna Carta
This is one of the actual documents (this one was sealed in 1297)! Can you even imagine? This document was basically the beginning of the rights of the common people. It bound the Crown of England to certain rights and obligations and paved the way for many other similar documents, like our Constitution. Trivia tidbit: Ross Perot’s foundation bought this and brought it to the states. Someone else bought it at auction from him and it is on permanent loan to the National Archives.

The actual Declaration of Independence
The ink on the original is fading badly and cannot be read (by me at least) in some areas. This document was revolutionary, literally! People had the audacity of hope (har har) to believe that they could rule themselves better than a tyrannical king thousands of miles away. They knew they were committing treason. As they signed the Declaration were their hearts pounding? Palms sweaty? Or were they steady handed, believing down to the depths that they were doing the right thing? I was standing as far away from it as the signers were when their ink wet the parchment.

The US Constitution (the first page)
Happy Birthday! A young country filled with brilliant minds all living at the same time with brilliant ideas about how a country could and should best function. Differences about the specific details would not prevent the most enduring document of governance from coming into being. It is awe inspiring to realize that for over two hundred years we as a country, and we as individuals have clung to the ideas in the Constitution as our very lifeblood. That a document (along with the amendments) holds so much sway over the American conscience is almost beyond comprehension. These are ideals, bigger than one era, bigger than political games, that are just “us”. It proves how strong and powerful and right the ideas were that our Founding Fathers held.

The Bill of Rights
There are 12 amendments on this document. The first ten are referred to as the Bill of Rights. The signers started to have doubts about how inclusive and complete the Constitution was. The cool thing is that the legislative process, set up by the Constitution, had to be used to get the amendments passed. And it worked. People actually compromised to get the work of the country done. And from then on, the processes laid out in our Constitution have been used to make this country not only survive, but thrive.

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Wow! I hope those guys went to Heaven because I want to sit down with them and just talk for a year or two about every single detail of their philosophies, the events leading up to and after the creation of our country and what, if anything, they think of how we’ve done in the last two hundred years. I’m looking forward to going back to the Archives to take it all in again. Maybe in March for the anniversary of the Bill of Rights.

I want to be Amish

Several times in the past I have tried to convince Du to become Amish. Yes, I have. The request would probably come at those stressful times in life where you don’t want to quite throw in the towel, but you might just want a do over where it would be necessary to implement the “less is more” principle. There is an appeal to the simple life I think we all feel and it’s only becoming more appealing. What with our 24/7, always on, consumeristic culture there’s bound to be some personal backlash where you just think, something’s got to give. And it needs to be the busyness. There’s a difference though between the simple lines of modern furniture or getting rid of all your personal belongings down to 100 items (and that dude totally copped out) and living a truly simple life. We visited the second largest Amish community in the world, Lancaster, PA, today and I think that although the Amish live a simpler life than the rest of the world, I don’t think they live a “simple” life.

And I’m almost cured of my desire to become one.

However, they would be the cutest little Amish girls Pennsylvania has ever seen.

The Amish are called “simple people”, but that does them such a disservice. They don’t have electricity, they don’t drive vehicles, they don’t ride bikes, they don’t put rubber on their tractor tires, they don’t use zippers and most ladies actually use stick pins to pin their aprons on. They work their fields with horses, manual equipment and their backs. The only room in the house that is heated is the kitchen. They’ve been forced to have indoor plumbing (that right there would have sealed the deal for me. No indoor toilet? Vicki will not be Amish, thankyouverymuch). A lot of the “simple” in their lifestyle adds a lot of work.

Tobacco is a cash crop for the Amish. And it’s all cut by hand.

Their shunning of modern conveniences isn’t at 100%, I found out. Many Bishops allow a man to own a cell phone if he owns a business. To give them credit, if the family owns a home phone (usually for business purposes as well) the phone is located in the old, converted outhouse, in the yard. How do they hear that thing ringing? They are beginning to use the huge yard-size propane tanks to heat and provide electricity (I think) or some other convenience. They are also getting into solar power.

Outhouse turned telephone booth

If you look closely (not at the alpacas) you’ll notice the solar panel on that shed-type building.

Some of that I could totally dig. Other aspects, ehh… There are days when I’m all for separating myself from the rest of society and just getting back to the basics. But those basics would not include an electric washing machine. And those basics would not include makeup. And those basics would include granny panties…hanging out on the clothes line every Monday for God and man and every nosy tourist to see and photograph. On the other hand, if I didn’t have all this busyness then I would have more time for all the back-breaking housework that I don’t have the time for now. The big question: would I enjoy it? The grass is always greener.

We were those stupid tourists and I was intent on getting a great laundry shot.
Reagan took this one.
That very first picture up top has some great laundry goodness in it too.

I was completely enthralled with everything we saw and learned today. The Amish live on some of the most beautiful farmland that I’ve seen. And their houses aren’t shanties either. And somehow they’re rocking the landscaped lawns too. And their schooling is, in essence, homeschooling (although it’s only to eighth grade).

One of many one-room school houses. Kids are at recess.

My biggest misgiving was the fact that they are so intent on remaining separate from the rest of society that they have not focused on the Greatest Commandment given by Jesus: to go and make disciples of nations… They are completely religious and live their lives in the strictest accordance with the Bible…except for that command. Sure, their lives and very existence are a testimony to their faith, but that doesn’t speak anything to the majority of society out there who doesn’t live around them. It’s one thing to be religious and follow religious laws because you’ve been taught them. It’s another thing to be spiritual and live like Jesus (and how He wants you to) and spread His love to others. Btw, I think the same thing about nuns and monks who live secluded from civilization.

I think a great compromise would be to find a way to be allowed to be Amish for say, the autumn, or something like that. Let me dabble and get my fix for a couple of months. Then let me get back to my iPhone, my makeup, and my Christian rock!!! I would never be invited back though y’all. After just one season I’d have every single granny panty in a wad and I’d be shunned for life, for either speaking my mind or sewing my dresses with zippers or something.

Oh, and Reagan was very excited about becoming Amish. Really getting into it! I thought I may have a chance with Du if we were to tag team him. Then she let it slip, she just wants to be an Amish girl to wear the “cute dresses”. Honey, I can home sew one or two of those for you and make sure the boys don’t come around for a couple more years. Where’s my sewing machine?

Pentagon Memorial 09/11/09

It was a surreal experience all around. It was cloudy, yet the sun was shining down upon us, and yet rain was falling. And it wasn’t really falling in drops; the wind was blowing in such a way that it felt more like rain was being flicked at us. My senses were on edge and it almost felt wrong to be standing at a place, peaceful now, where so many people lost their lives so recently.

The white wreath was probably placed by the president. The other wreath was placed by Arlington County. We were there to “take part” in the Arlington County wreath ceremony and moment of silence.

Each bench memorializes one victim. They are in order of year of birth.

The benches that face out (like the ones closest in this photo) represent each person that was working at the Pentagon that day. (You can see the Air Force Memorial in the background)

Each bench that faces toward the Pentagon represent each person that was on the plane.

They have a fluid, wing-like design

and underneath each one is a flowing pool of water

On the edge of each bench is the name of one victim.

If there were any family members that perished as well those names are on the silver plate that is down by Reagan’s hand.

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Before we went to the memorial we did our part on the National Day of Service. We got around 50 cans of food and delivered them to the local food bank.

Stupid Murphy

I know I’m not the only one that this happens to. I (and you too, I’m sure) can pretty much guarantee that if I have to be somewhere at a very specific time, like the don’t be late kinda thing, “everything” will conspire against me to make me late. Well, tonight we were not only late, we were no shows. And our night didn’t get much better after that.

Tonight was the first night of AWANA for the girls. They, however, did not attend and it wasn’t for us trying. Satan, who also goes by Murphy, has a law that’s almost as constant as gravity. Here are some of the law’s conditional statements:

IF Vicki needs to get somewhere on time THEN every single light in a mile radius of Vicki will be red.
IF Vicki leaves the house without allowing any extra time for traffic THEN an idiot driver someone who probably shouldn’t have a license will slam on the brakes in front of the truck instead of turning right like his turn signal says he wants to.
IF Vicki hears that Arby’s is offering a free sandwich tonight if you buy a soda (I was giving them a pass that it was Pepsi, yuck) and
IF Vicki finds that her closest Arby’s is actually by the church holding the AWANA program making it seem like a win, win situation THEN Vicki’s closest Arby’s restaurant (if it can be called such) will be located inside of a dank, dark, deserted mall and will only offer that free sandwich if a nonexistent coupon is provided. I should have guessed as much from a “restaurant” offering Pepsi. I’m so sorry Coca Cola.
IF Vicki and her family decide to eat at a restaurant that did not mislead us THEN this new restaurant will not have the spicy chicken tenders, which they are famous for, nor will they have mayonnaise, which everyone knows is the only way to eat french fries.
IF Vicki and her family decide to have dessert to make the night a little better THEN the ice cream will be fermented, which I didn’t even know ice cream could do. ‘Cause this tasted like the guy had poured alcohol on MY CHILD’S ice cream cone. She said, “this doesn’t taste like regular chocolate, this is spicy chocolate!” Now, I know to check my children’s food when they say it tastes different. How do I know? Well, I’ve tried to feed them fermented cantaloupe and fermented breast milk before. Mother of the year, I know.
IF Vicki and her family decide to have dessert to make the night a little better and
IF Vicki sees the guy behind the Dairy Queen counter (oh, did I just mention their name?) picking his teeth, his back teeth with his bare fingernail and
IF Vicki and family decide to eat there anyway even though owner-guy was picking his back teeth with his bare fingernail THEN we should expect fermented milk in our ice cream. Shame on us.

Murphy aka Satan cannot bring us down though. We’ll catch AWANA next week. However, we will never eat at that Arby’s nor at that Dairy Queen again. That won’t be hard because we’re never going back to that mall again. Good thing there are about eleventy-seven others to choose from around here.