Down For The Count

How can one man look so stinkin' cute and at the same time have a 100+ fever? After a grueling week of travel and late nights, all of the loss of sleep caught up with my Tom Builder in a matter of an hour last night. Freezing to death, the man donned his "sick-wear" garb which includes: long underwear, fleece sweatsuit, tundra Russian mafia hat (stocking cap was MIA), and a carnival assortment of blankets.


Is he not absolutely adorable? And still smiling, even after my sister (who is staying in town for the weekend) and I had a good laugh at his expense urging him on to make Russian mafia/gang signs. Tom Builder doesn't reduce to a babied ball of mush when he's sick...he's still tough as nails...but he's sure fun to love on in such an Arctic state.

Here Comes Rubble

"It felt so good to have a day off today."

This coming from Mr. Incredible after nine hours behind either a sledge hammer, rototiller or a Bobcat. I am learning, that what my husband really wants to do in his free time is be a twenty first century gladiator. To destroy, or build, that is the question. I'm also learning he is really good at doing both.

Tom Builder has a full week with a rented Bobcat. What this guy can do with a Bobcat in thirty minutes is a wonder. On Wednesday evening, on my way to drop the kids off at AWANA, I drove between two gaudy fortress-like structures that buttress either side of our entrance to the property. Tom Builder and I have always disliked these things as they scream with their white stucco and lion topped heads "Welcome to the Fortress. Don't touch anything." We wanted our property to have a more inviting feel that matched our family's personality and said something more along the lines of "Welcome to our Home. Take a load off and stay awhile." Upon my quick return, I was greeted with "The Fall of Rome"...


The picture above was taken a day later, when most of the stucco and concrete had been transported by Bobcat to the second entrance to the property that goes down to the barn. Tom Builder's plan is to lay all of this rubble down on the farm road, crush it, and then pile pea gravel on top of it. Meanwhile, he spent the rest of the day yesterday, smoothing out the entrance with dirt so that he can start laying pallets and pallets of sod at the entrance today. Did I mention we are also getting our new carpet today?? Did I mention that we could be watching up to 4 additional dogs for a week beginning tomorrow? The next few days are going to be CRAZY!

But as long as Tom Builder has a smile on his face, and is so loopy about driving a Bobcat that he can act goofy with his hat...it is all worth it.

A Man's Anniversary

Under normal circumstances, anniversaries are froo-frooey. Let's face it squarely: Anniversaries are for the ladies. We're the ones that in fifth...er...tenth grade started creating anniversaries for our unsuspecting beaus. Our anniversary dates could be anything from your first date, to your first kiss, to the day you first shared a PBJ.

But men, if you hold out long enough, there is at least one anniversary out there that is custom built just for you. Hang in there with that marriage, and by the time you reach eleven years with your one and only, you've earned it. The gift of steel. Arrrrrgh. And like most men, the men in the Knucker Hatch house, love their steel toys:


So, the traditional gift for your eleventh wedding anniversary is steel. How bout that? It sure beats the 10th year of tin and the 12th year of linen. Whoop-dee-do. But STEEL...now, that has possibilities. Tomorrow, Tom Builder and I celebrate ELEVEN years together. And as has become tradition over the last couple of years, the one and only tradeshow we attend for our business, falls on the week of our anniversary. Which has truthfully been a bit of a bummer, since I stay home with the kids and he works his tail off in Kentucky for 4-5 days.

But back to the topic of steel. If I was a really cool wife, I'd have that Bobcat he's been talking about getting, waiting for him on the driveway. THAT's steel baby! (But then that brings back memories of when I tried to surprise him with a fantastic stainless steel grill that I couldn't even get out of the back of the Explorer. I had to nix the surprise, and have him help me get the 200lb box out of the truck, and then he had to put it all together. You'd think I would have got a clue when it took three men to get the box in the car. Lame.)

Sometimes I wish I could be a man, just so that I could surprise my man with manly gifts. I fear that my poor faithful man is going to end up with something light and girly like a fresh new box of Brillo pads.

His First Miracle

I'll just say it. Tom Builder performed a bona fide miracle this spring. The pool we inherited was so bad, SO BAD, that we never thought once about actually snapping a picture of it to remember its BADNESS. It was thick, dark green, and swarming with swampy life. It looked like a lost cause. At the very least it looked like we would need to drain the pool and start all over. But apparently, draining a pool is a big no-no, and everywhere we read, and those we talked to stood by their chemicals.


It took four weeks of Mr. Incredible's devoted attention to work his mojo. He poured chemicals, took pool samples, poured more chemicals, became addicted to pool sampling, scrubbed, vacuumed, unclogged pool pumps, added more magic fairy dust, and dreamed about sampling pool water. Every day he could be seen with his little transparent suitcase of colored drops and cylinders. The success of his day hinged upon the PH balance of the pool.

For a week the water did nothing. The PH did nothing. And lots of chemicals had been dumped into the sea soup. Tom Builder was a bit discouraged. However, in the second week the pool went from spinach green to cloudy green-blue. Action! Everyday we looked to see if we could see anything beyond the first step of the stairs. Did anyone see the sea monster yet? By the last week, our visibility went from only being able to see the second stair, to seeing down to the full 10 feet depth with crystal clarity.


The glorious water my four floatie Sir Bugga-lot is now swimming in, is the same H2O that looked like it was one chemical reaction away from a nuclear disaster. WHAT IS IN THOSE CHEMICALS?? Unbelievable. But honestly, I can't say enough about Tom Builder's dedication to making this thing happen. We went from owning no pools, ever in our lives, to owning a pool, a hot tub, and a jet pool. We knew squat. However, as in all things he does, Mr. Incredible took the challenge and tackled it head on.

We have a running joke on the farm between us. Because so much of this life is new, and has new terminology, the joke runs a bit like this: "You see, you simply take the mandible there and insert it into the manifold, which is found on top of the lateral dorsal. Then wait two minutes, and turn around six times before activating the implement on the posterior thorax pump in the ..."

By the way, 10 bucks to anyone who can sink Floatie-boy...


The water is still a bit nippy which is why the kids load up on flotation devices to stay as much above water level as possible. But who can stay away from this American dream? The kid's dishes are put in the sink after meal times, the kid's shoes are all neatly in place, the playroom stays clean. Why? Because pools and hot tubs only happen when all else is finished. I've never seen my children clean up a playroom so quickly. It's down right lovely.

Now keeping an eye on stubborn Faith is another beast all-together. The child only wants to throw everything imaginable to man in the pool, and then pitches a fit as soon as it drifts away. (We're going through a bit of a stubborn streak.) The hot tub is more her style, since Mama let's her bumpkin run in the buff. She gets a kick out of her buff-ness as she squeals around on the deck.

The water...is nice folks. Really nice. And the view, is tremendous.
Thanks hun. You're a miracle worker.

The Great Dane

So I haven't told you about my experiences yet with our neighbor's dogs on our property. This is a doozy.

It started out with just a rapidly beating heart as the children and I were on a walk around the land one day. We were close to home, and well on the property. Our trusty, friendly dog, Hatch was also with us. When the ugliest dog I have ever seen, an old tumor ridden mangy hunting dog, trotted down the lane toward us, woofing along the way. I was paralyzed as I watched with trepidation Hatch head out to greet the dog. There is that moment when dogs stand nose to nose with tails up and stiff that you know things could go either way. Faith was wrapped on my back and the children were beside me, and I had this moment of sudden surrender as I knew if the dog didn't get the right vibe from smaller Hatch, he would be the least likely candidate to win the dog fight. And I would not be stepping in to help. But thankfully, they decided that neither one was a threat, and they made friends. That was the first dog.

Two days later, as we were piling out of the van, and getting ready to go inside the house for schooling that morning, I happened to turn around as I was getting Faith out of the car seat. My heart dived into the pit of my stomach, as my eyes tried to make sense of what was before me. A Great Dane staring us down less than 10 yards away.

A GREAT DANE.

Hatch was climbing out of the car, but the Dane was so still that Hatch thankfully didn't see him. I hurried everyone immediately into the house.

Houston, we have a problem.

I call the Great Dane - Ghost. Ghost is stealthy, quiet, and amazingly quick. You don't know he is there, until HE IS THERE. And he is bigger than life (as all Great Danes are). Ghost is a problem. Hatch, does not like Ghost. Ghost does not like Hatch. Hatch never growls, but Hatch growls at Ghost when he suddenly appears on the property. Worse, Ghost growls at Hatch. Once Jack opened the door to go outside, and instantly turned tail white faced in time for me to see Ghost 5 yards from the door, head low, growling at Hatch who instantly was at Jack's side growling back. Sometimes it feels like we are in some bizarre horror flick. None of us like the idea of the jaws of death sauntering around the land unchecked.

Yesterday, confirmed that fear. I was heading out to the bunny pen to feed our almost newly inherited bunny. The bunny was left by the previous owner, and word on the land was she would most likely be leaving it with us forever. The previous owners have a reputation for unfinished business. Which was great news for our family, since I am a rabbit fanatic, who has had to be reformed after my marriage to Tom Builder. No more college bunnies. But now was my chance to give my children the bunny sickness. We were all looking forward to taking care of Casey. In fact, we were planning to rescue Casey from her outdoor cage, and give her a much bigger run or the safety of a small enclosed shed to roam in with a few other friends. A Bun-Bun House. The future was looking bright for Casey.

Until the Great Dane decided to spend the night of Easter terrorizing Casey as his jaws of death chewed through the wire bottom underneath the lifted cage. He chewed a 12 inch round hole in the bottom of the cage, and seized the rabbit (who quickly became no more). Dead Casey was dropped upon the driveway of his owners as a trophy. After a phone call to Pam (the bunny owner) we have since learned that this is the THIRD bunny who has met this same fate with the Great Dane. Rumor is, the owners have four Great Danes. I don't know who I'm madder at...the Great Dane owners, or Pam. So Tom Builder and I spent yesterday evening discussing our options. One thing was made clear, as we were still hanging out on the farm that afternoon. If the kids saw the Great Dane, they were to tell Mr. Incredible immediately.

And then Ghost came. We were in the house, and we watched as he glided down the long driveway and came right up to the porch. Tom Builder was summoned. And we all stood nose to window as we watched wide eyed at the scene before us. Mr. Incredible opened the door and stepped outside, grabbing two large sticks with pink pony heads attached to the top of them (junk still sitting on the porch from the previous owners.). Yes...you can start laughing.

Mr. Incredible in his nice slacks and handsome shirt brandished two pink ponies at Ghost shouting GIT!. For a moment, the dog cocked his head, as if to say, Who is this Pink Pony Ninja?. But then Mr. Incredible made it clear that he meant business. He chased the giant dog off the property, slinging a pink pony at the dog, and running with the wind blowing in his hair after the fleeing Dane with the remaining pink pony. OH I WISH I HAD MY VIDEO CAMERA. All of us were laughing hysterically and quite relieved that Ghost hadn't decided to challenge Mr. Incredible. Even Tom Builder, when he realized what he had grabbed for weapons, had a sheepish grin on his face.

But today, we will be guarding our property with something more accurate than a pink pony. The bee-bee gun from Tom Builder's glory days is cocked and loaded. Personally, I'd rather watch the Pink Pony Ninja in action again. Pink ponies, or bee-bee guns, we realize we do have a serious problem that needs addressing.

Uber-Easter

After almost eleven years of marriage, Tom Builder still surprises me with his sweet side. Yesterday, Mr. Incredible learned despite the flyers sent home with gobs of children, the Children's Ministry had received only 100 stuffed eggs for two services of Easter egg hunts. The expected head count of eager Easter egg hunting children: 100.

oops.

I will admit that we were as guilty as the next family for not bringing in our one dozen candy filled eggs. (In keeping with my tradition of procrastination, I tend to bring in the eggs the day of the easter egg hunt, hoping to get them there in time for the second service hunt. Not very helpful.)

But Tom Builder decided to change things, after hearing of the meager pickins' from our very round and pregnant Children's Minister, and discovering that she would be the one spending an evening stuffing eggs to make up for the lack of participation. He came home from Walmart yesterday afternoon with garbage bags full of eggs and candy.

Seven hundred plastic eggs to be exact.

So last night, the Knucker Hatches sat on the floor filling eggs full of jelly beans, Starbursts, Skittles, and anything else that would fit. (As three of us popped goodies into our mouths.) We filled the equivalent of about two laundry baskets.

What I haven't told you, is that Tom Builder had decided to fast for the entire day. And candy is a very close friend of mine and Tom Builder. (We make runs to the gas station down the street at 10:00pm for bags of candy.) He grocery shopped and filled seven hundred eggs full of sweets on an empty rumbling stomach.

GOODNESS.
That's my Tom Builder.

Four Parks in Three Days

This past weekend was a very special weekend the children had been looking forward to for weeks. Uncle Jeff and cousin Alyssa were coming down to Georgia to kick off spring break! Thankfully, the weather was fabulous and there was no need for elaborate "What are we going to do today?" plans. The children took turns tag teaming all of the adults for bike rides, walks, and park visits with movie night in the evenings. In all, we hit four parks, probably had 10 walks, and ate boat loads of greasy take out and ice cream.

Our neighborhood park was the second park we hit. I really enjoyed an hour of peaceful sunning (Faith-free), while the kids built roads, giant smiley faces, and buried their toes in the sand.


Jack discovered on this day that he could "barely lift the entire park" from underneath this climbing structure.

On Sunday, we were to meet with Uncle Christian and Aunt Kristy for lunch. We waited and we waited for them to arrive from what was supposed to be a quick errand to the local PetSmart. And we waited some more. When they arrived, they were beaming with the announcement that they were the proud parents of a new baby girl...

After some gooey eats the children and I took the clan with us to see our soon to be new home and farm. Alyssa is a horse fanatic (small understatement), and we knew she would have a good time cavorting with the horses in the pens. It surely must also be mentioned that "horses" was the topic of all games and pretend play. I'm not sure what my kids would do if Alyssa came to town and announced she was over horses and was moving on to elephants.

Yesterday, was our finale with burgers, more ice cream and a last visit in the evening to our Towne Park for more bike rides. Faith and Uncle Jeff hit it off very well on this visit. Everyone knows, it is not easy to win Faith's stringent approval, but Jeff apparently spoke her language. I told myself that I was going to try very hard not to mention that Jeff is totally available. (I could have tried harder, but what's the fun in that?)


The poor guy below, deserved some extra TLC this weekend. He was unable to join us until Sunday afternoon, after being stranded in Philly for three days due to the inclement weather. Six hundred dollars, 10 hours of delays, two days of flight cancellations, and three days of wearing the same clothes later, he finally was able to fenegel his way back home. Without March Madness in full gear, he might have turned himself inside out with boredom.

The Incredible Tom Builder doing his best to burn a generous hour of caloric intake as he supervises the mass transit of bikes and scooters.

Staging Christmas

While we were in Colorado, there was a sub-plot simmering just below the Christmas hub-bub. Before vacation, Ken decided that it would be really fun to build rockets together with extended family circles and then to have a grand launch date on open acreage. His idea turned out to be fantastic. Every family had up to three rockets they spent time constructing, painting and detailing over the course of the vacation. A LOT of work went into each piece, with some rockets requiring multiple stages and high skill levels. It was difficult to tell who was more excited about the rockets...the children or the grown men.


Ken and Grandpa probably spent the most time together on this project. At times, trying to make heads and tails out of some of the very cryptic instructions. Perhaps the most challenging was Grandpa's rocket that was quite large. There were a couple of times when the room erupted in laughter over glued mistakes and short cuts gone bad.


The launch involved the entire extended family with successful launches for all but poor Grandpa's rocket. How I wish we would have had a video running! The big black two footer struggled its hardest to handle its own weight, losing to gravity after 40 feet and hitting the snow nose first. For added emphasis, the booster then decided to pop off in delayed fashion, which had us all in stitches.

If you have the open space, this is a wonderful way to spend time with family. And the kids love it...especially the part about chasing down their rockets as they float back to earth.

The Princess Has Found Her Legs

I'm in total post-Holiday blog catch-up mode. So much has happened on the ever changing Faith front. The most notable accomplishment is that THE PRINCESS WALKS. She's unstoppable. Crawling is SOOO out of style. Faith started walking right before we headed out to Colorado. She hadn't even hit the 11 month milestone.

The footage below is already outdated, but the moment is priceless. Here are Faith's first steps from mid December with Daddy as her "Bipedal" coach. And just like our daring Faith, she goes for three.

Falling In With Dad

Today, Ken took advantage of a beautiful breezy day, and invited the children on a hike around the lake, while Mom and Faith continued on the road to recovery at home. Ken brought back a wonderful set of pictures and videos of their hike, which was like opening up a package of fresh air. The children came home with handfuls of acorns, favorite fall leaves, and mushrooms, along with that special something that kids get after spending special time with Dad.

Eeeny---Meeny----Mighty----Cold

I think we've bought what would qualify as a Mini Mart drugstore. We are a prime example of how panic can set in when everyone in the entire family comes down with a rotten cold. All I wanted was one box. One box of Tylenol's Concentrated Cold Drops for Infants. But the little drops evaded us wherever we looked.

I'm not sure what these drug companies are thinking sometimes. When you are sick, and all of your little ones are hacking up green goo you can barely see straight. However, you find yourself blindly trying to pick the wonder drug of the year, while you read through a small font all of the symptoms on the box that the medicine claims to aid. With chagrin, I picked Dimetapp's Cold & Cough medicine for children, hoping I could sneak the larger liquid amount in Faith's pears or something. The medicine had a laundry list of relief for Nasal Congestion, Runny Nose, Itchy, Watery Eyes, Coughing, and Sneezing. In my stupor, I just assumed a fever would be covered too. Silly me.

Trip 1: My purchased loot.

Ken takes the next shift and goes back to the store, looking for those prized infant drops. He comes back with loads more drugs. But no drops.

Trip 2: Ken's purchased loot.
Three miserable nights, 2 empty Kleenex boxes, and more kiddie throw up later, Ken goes BACK to another store looking for the holy grail of infant cold drops. I swear these drugs can only be found on the black market. You literally need an ID to buy these bad boys.

JACKPOT and Alleluia!!! He finds the drops. In a store I have looked twice in before (when my mommy instinct kicked in and I thought I should be prepared for a week like this). In typical father style, he buys two boxes. And then he buys two boxes of other stuff. And then three more boxes of stuff for good measure. God love him.

Trip 3: Ken's purchased loot w/ the Holy Grail.
This will never, NEVER, happen again. Why? Because next time, we'll be ready. REALLY ready. You think?

Standing In the Shade of God's Shadow

We're on the Enemy's radar screen. I know it, and Ken knows it. It wasn't until about four weeks ago that we voiced what we were both thinking, and realized, we both knew it. Ironically, it was about two months ago, that I checked out a book by Charles Stanley called "When The Enemy Strikes". I only reached the third chapter, before having to return it back to the library. But it was enough. It is clear that at least in my case, the Enemy wants to steal my joy.

This is a time of weakness for me. I have been unable to attend my Bible studies for six months, and I am isolated with a little baby. The weakness isn't in temptation, but more along the lines of feeling "down" or inviting depression. In the last two months I have watched the helpless little creatures around me get picked off one by one in our household. I have a deep heart for the little guy, and the Enemy knows that he can make me twist in the wind on this. And he's not just striking at the heart of a Mom, he's striking indirectly at my children.

For a month we agonized with Maggie, and watched her pass two weeks ago. During that last week, I didn't post it, but one of my four beautiful giant goldfish that I've had in our front yard pond for 2 years disappeared. Nothing to cry over like a dog, but a noted scratch. And then today, after saying good morning to the family gerbil, Marly, I noticed a giant bloody scent gland tumor. After consulting with the vet, he needs to be euthanized as well.

I cried. More than once. Not as much for the gerbil who's led a good life, but for my children. It was only two weeks ago that we buried our dog, and now I had to tell the kids that we also had to put down their 2 1/2 year old gerbil. Grace said, "After that, we won't have any pets left." And it tore my heart strings to watch that familiar tension in Jack's face as he tried to say something happy while fighting off tears, "I bet Gully (Marly's deceased buddy) will be happy to see Marly again. They'll be wrestling with each other and playing." But I can see it. The wounds that were healing so well have been ripped back open.

During this time, I have been praying for protection over our family, and recently over even extended family, as I have seen the Enemy fan out over us. Ken has been dealing with his own spiritual warfare, in addition to what has been swirling around the home. My prayers have been especially fervent over Ken. I am certain that all of this warfare is over Ken. It was two months ago that he was approached by his mentor on the topic of moving from being a deacon in the church to a possible elder position. Ken's plate was already full to the brim, working 80 hour weeks as his technology company ramps up, but he agreed to consider. And that is when the Enemy decided to strike, adding distractions, upon disappointments, upon pains.

But after a rough two months, and coming to a mutual realization that the Enemy was trying to swoop in over our family, Ken decided to forge ahead despite the work load and "Stick it to him". Tonight we received word that the elders in our church unanimously voted to add Ken to the board of elders. And so it is. And the will of God has prevailed.

I think the whole family is a little beat up and bruised. It has been an emotional battle. But when I take the time to look around me, my joy is renewed. There is a new "closeness" in the house, and more conversation. We pulled together as an army for God. We held our ground. And where we stand, falls the shade of God's long shadow. A reminder of His protection and Holy presence over this house.

Closet Closure

Dreams do come true! As promised, I've uploaded pictures of the now finally organized (mostly) school room closets. What a difference this has made in clearing out the shelving already present in the room. We use the room shelving to house activities on trays, but lately it has been dominated by toys. Here is our coat closet that Ken has transformed into a shelving haven for toys and games.

And although I'm still sorting, this is my so already loved schooling closet. WITH A LOCK ON THE DOOR.

I SO owe my husband, already semi-eagerly committing myself to helping him clear out the garage we haven't been able to place our two cars in for the last 6 months. (ouch)

Grace is now six before September 1st, which means in addition to laying out our schedule for the next term, and ordering term related supplies this week, I've also been preparing my Declaration of Intent and getting the attendance sheets ready. It all feels so odd and "official" even though we have been schooling for almost two years and we've been keeping records of all of our school work. A clean playroom and NOW closet space is such a boost to what will be our first "on the books" term with the county school system.

What A Good Man Does

I could kiss the ground he walks on right now. Always could, but this week, takes the cake. What a good man does for his homeschooling wife is give her more closet space!! My wonderful husband could have been doing so many other things this weekend, but instead he spent two days going to three Home Depot stores, buying and putting together organizers in the two closets we have in the school room. He even retouched up the paint on the walls. My hero.

I never knew how excited I could be over organized closet space. For the last 6 months I have been feeling so defeated about trying to organize the room as we dive deeper into our studies. Half the problem is that it is also our playroom, but it needs to be since there are no other options. And after each term there is just more stuff. When I felt like I couldn't take the disaster zone anymore, I'd go on a cleaning binge but always get only so far before getting stuck with where to get things to go. It is true we need to do a Goodwill run, but much of the new stuff is school related -- microscope, slides, butterfly spreader, resin molds, music and art supplies, lots of books.

So I have a toy closet AND a school closet. Today will hopefully be the last day of putting things away, and then I promise pictures. Thank you sweetie!!!!

Friday Wrap Up

I feel like I have a thousand little loose ends to tie before leaving on this two week vacation. I've a bunch of cliff hangers from this week on the blog too, so here they are:

The cyst burst this week....lovely. But at least I know it is a cyst based on its contents. (I hope you've already eaten.) Unfortunately, I wasn't able to squeeze it back to normalcy. Ok, now you're gagging. But it looks better, and I shouldn't be as self conscious on the beach (minus the skin hanging from various locations.)

Which reminds me. I wasn't able to stick with my workout program as my knees became incredibly tender from the running. I did stick to including a yogurt a day in my diet. The working out I did, must have jostled my metabolism, as it moved me past my plateau weight, and as of today, I am one pound away from my goal nursing weight. I'm very tickled about that. Nursing has its perks --- well, until you stop nursing, and then those other super perky things, shrink to almost invisible.

Ok...moving on to the three moles I had removed. Guess what? Two of them really needed to be removed according to the test results. Mild dysplastic nevi. Nothing super serious, but considered pre-cancerous. So after vacation, I scoot back in for the doctor to take two more deeper chunks out of my skin to make sure they got everything. Not so glad about the holes in my body, but I'm glad I went in.

Maggie. My sweet fiddle player, has a giant scab over half of her tail as it mends. And she has managed to clear out almost every piece of chicken in the fridge. She's doing much better, but continues to boycott all pills. I can't tell you how thankful I am for her recovery, and now the sighting of those giant tail wags again.

Now...drum roll please....WE GOT THE TOURING ODYSSEY!!!! I lurve it!!! Sagebrush exterior, black and tan interior. It is SWEET!!! I was poking around in it with Ken at midnight last night, and it felt like we were sitting in an airplane with all of the nifty controls and lighting. Ken already admitted that he enjoyed smoking another car off of a light change on the way home. (How ridiculous are we?).

Lastly, my baby girl slept through the night. And as of 10:00am, she's still snoozing. Whoo! Hooo!! Poor girl must have been so worn out from car shopping. I couldn't have asked for a better little shopper yesterday.

And so, the rest of my day is a frazzled mess of last minute errands and packing. The kids are so excited they are almost down to counting hours. This family has so needed this vacation. As anyone who owns a business knows, vacations are so rare. So are true weekends. Ken and I were just discussing yesterday, that if it was just us, we would have canceled already. The downside of owning your own business or in our case businesses, is that working never ends. It has been too long. I thank the good Lord that we have a small gaggle of kids to force us on a vacation, or we'd really be boring sticks in the mud.

It's a happy day. :)

He Loves Me

10 Years of Marriage...& Counting: The Date

Ken and I spent the next two evenings chatting on the phone trying to get rid of the absolute awkwardness that would be between us with just 10 minutes of info on each other. I found out very quickly that I really liked this guy. It was decided that we would have a dinner date at an Italian restaurant and then head off to a comedy club called "The Funny Bone".

On the evening of the "big day" I begged my Marine Corps Father to at least acknowledge the existance of this young man. I told him I thought this might really be someone special. Dad, was super hard on guys. Not that he gave them a rough time. Not at all. Quite the opposite. He didn't give them the time of day. So I beseeched my Father to do something more than a drive by peer from a distance down over the stair banister thingy. When the doorbell rang, it seemed like the entire family (minus my Dad) came running to greet the new kid.

Ken was dressed to the nines...my kind of nines at least. Again in a polo shirt and nice pressed shorts. I was taught frugality at an early age, so I had managed to scrounge up the tiniest pair of Goodwill jeans I owned, and a black sleeveless top. My younger brothers drooled over the cool Blazer waiting for us in the street. And thankfully, my Father did manage to work up some eye contact.

I was all too happy to be out of my family's sights and equally nervous to actually be finally on an actual date with this guy I didn't even dare to deserve. As we were pulling out of the housing development, Ken said something I'll never forget. It broke the ice for me. I still can't put my finger on what it was. "Are you nervous?", he said. There was something about stating and answering the obvious that put the whole scene at ease. The windows were rolled a bit down, and the wind was swirling in the car about as much as my stomach was flipping over. I stared at him with the silliest girly gaze of wonder.

I remember hearing him in the car. Hearing the air exhale as he breathed through his nose. Something anyone else could do and it would annoy me crazy, but with him, I remember feeling like it was an assurance that he was alive. The guy at the wheel, that looked like he stepped out of that catalog was real. (I still love to listen to him breathe.)

So we ended up going on an amazing date. I won't bore you with the minute details. I quickly learned that I was in the presence of a young man who really knew, KNEW, how to treat a young lady, thanks to two older sisters and an outstanding set of parents. Our conversation sailed happily wherever the winds of topics blew. When the date was over, we drove home. There was still an hour of daylight, so we took an evening stroll around the neighborhood. He learned that I wasn't afraid to pick up a frog, and I learned on our return back to the house that he had just ended a 3 year relationship with another young lady. **double gulp**

After what amounted to be a perfect ten for a date. I dodged the kiss (or so he says) and we hugged good night. And than he said something that would have me dumbfounded for the next week..."It's probably best that we just stay good friends."

WHAT!!!??????

After all of his pursuit? After all the good vibes? I get the "Let's just be friends" line????

I wasn't sore over it. Even as I was still feeling myself getting crazier over him by the minute. I even had this tiny little picture of us in a key chain we had gotten at the comedy club to obsess over while I was in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. I knew he was too good to be true. Not him per se, but the situation.

I packed for Colorado that night, thinking that maybe we would be friends. Who knows. Despite that stupid line, I felt good about the whole thing. Maybe God was giving me a gift, after all of our talks together that summer. Maybe he thought I could use a night on the town and some innocent fun. A Cinderella moment. It was just nice to go out on a great date with a handsome young gentleman who could make me laugh so effortlessly.

So what if he didn't call me again? I'd go back to my life and think about him again. Just at a little less of a distance this time.

10 Years of Marriage...and Counting Part II

A week passed since I had met that incredibly handsome young man with the intriguing air of confidence. I allowed myself to think about him, but only think about him at a distance. He was way out of my league. And when we met, my appearance was quite poor. I hadn't showered. I was wearing work boots with shorts. I probably had some lame bandanna in my short hair that still had green at the tips from a horrible boxed dye job gone very bad. I certainly didn't fit the bill. But *someone* like him God...

While working in the office later that week, I received a call. I didn't receive calls at the office. I couldn't imagine who or what was on the other end. I don't think I blinked for an entire minute when I heard HIS voice on the other end. Friendly. Casual. Relaxed. And that confidence that I didn't know if I should place as cocky or simply as true confidence. He didn't waste much time with his purpose. I recall the words, "I know you don't know me, but I was wondering if you might want to go out sometime." Stunned, I reflexively managed a measley notation of agreement and asked him "When?". He shot out a date, and my mind whirled with a million questions.

What about my vow to stay clear from young men this summer?
What would happen if our date went horribly? He's my bosses son! The awkwardness would be unbearable.
Why is he so confident? Has anyone said "No." to this guy before?
I'm going to be on vacation in Colorado that week. Why do I have to go on vacation THAT week?
Lord, you heard my prayer, is this from you? Or is this a cruel ploy from enemy lines?

I thought for sure that when I told him I would be unavailable on that date, that would be the end of his pursuit, and he'd quickly end the phone call. Instead, he told me that he really wanted to see me. He didn't want to wait three weeks. Could we meet for a date sooner? Again, I caught myself thinking...."Who does this guy think he is?"

I didn't know if I should be flattered and swooning, or if the red flags should be popping up. Someone had eavesdropped on my prayer, and I didn't know for sure who. It ended up that we agreed to go on a date to dinner that Friday before I left for the family reunion at Estes Park, CO. I hung up and my heart was pounding. I also felt like my brains were stewing, as I began to wonder how much his Mom knew about all of this. I didn't know what to say if I bumped into her by the copy machine now, or how to say it.

I did know one thing...I was going on a summer date with a guy I knew for all of about 10 minutes. But I'd been baited with his alluring confidence, his kind manners, and his style. How he could turn my mind inside out in minutes, had me interested. Very interested.

....continued.....

10 Years of Marriage...and Counting Part I

I can't believe it is almost here. On the 18th of May, Ken and I will be celebrating 10 amazing years of marriage together. I look back at our wedding pictures, and I find myself now thinking about how young we were. How easy it would have been to make a stupid decision that could have lasted a lifetime. And how confident I was that Ken was divinely placed in my path, just so that I would marry him. It is one of those cases when you look back and can see just what God was up to...how His large hands were prearranging everything in my life...how much He loved me.

It was the summer of '94 and I had come home from my sophmore year in college. I was looking to turn over a new leaf after a long string of poor dating decisions. It was the summer I vowed to focus only on Christ. It was the summer I carried a little camo colored New Testament Bible with me everywhere. It was the summer I discovered the eloquent writings of C.S. Lewis. It was the summer I found work as a camp counselor/administrative assistant for a summer camp that served inner city children. It was, and still is, the summer I remember most fondly.

I wanted that job as a camp counselor so badly, I was willing to work for pennies. I wanted to warm hearts and give these children happy summer memories and smiles. I remember my interview for the job very well. There was a beautiful blonde woman, as short as me, with a twinkle in her eye and a warm smile. I could tell there wasn't a bad bone in her soul. I would be working for her and her coworker entering camp applications by day, and acting as a counselor assistant during mealtimes and in the evening, and overnight. I SO wanted this job. And she gave it to me.

The summer was wonderful. The kids were an inspiration to me. The Word was fresh in my heart. One day, that cheery woman who had hired me, and who I had gotten to know very well, inquired about a piece of my personal life. It was a very friendly inquiry, not intrusive. Something along the lines of, "I'm sure a nice gal like you has a boyfriend in the picture." I remember laughing to myself. I remembered my vow to leave boys alone this summer. And I said with confidence, "Nope."

Weeks passed. And then one day that woman with the twinkle in her eye put me at a new post. Used to working in a back room away from visitors, she placed me at the front desk. I remember being all thumbs and scared to death to answer the phone. I hated talking on the phone to strangers. I felt like I sounded like a bluthering idiot on phones. So I was nervous about this odd assignment, but feeling better by noon. And then HE walked in.

The cleanest cut kid, in a polo shirt and kakhi pants. He was my age, with raven black hair, high cheek bones, perfect teeth, a glowing tan and light blue piercing eyes. He looked like he had walked right off the page of a catalog. He was perfect. He was coming to pick his mother up for a lunch date. His mother, I soon discovered was that cute little happy woman whom I had grown to love. The one who had placed me smack in the front of the office that day.

We chatted briefly...he and I. He had an air of confidence that blew me away, and a smile that also brimmed with that same confidence. He shook my hand when it was time to go. I have no idea what we said to each other. But I do remember one thing as I watched him open the door for his mother on the way out. (Even more perfect.) Before he left, he looked back at me (staring at him), and he raised his eyebrows as he said good bye. He looked back.

I remember walking through the path in the woods to get to the cafeteria for lunch that day. I prayed a prayer to God. A prayer for the future. That one day Lord, not today, but one day, I would meet a man like him. Certainly not him. I didn't deserve him. But one day Lord, maybe someone just like him. When I had earned it.

...to be continued...

The Shmog-A-Nog-A-Hyde Has Been Spotted

Grandpa Halley...this one is just for you...

The tradition of passing the Shmog-A-Nog-A-Hyde continues on to the grandchildren this year. Faith is the second grandchild to discover this friendly animal in her sleeping quarters.


For those of you not "in the know" and horrified to find such a grotesque creature in a cradle, do not let his appearance scare you. He is a great sign of love and humor in the Halley household and is a momento that has been stealthly exchanged between Ken and his father for years. The exchanges are very creative. Last year, thought to be lost, he was discovered at the top of Long's Peak!