Count them one by one...

Several years ago when I first set fingers to keyboard, my original intent was to have an outlet for my angst. Somewhere I could come to and vent...fester prevention, if you will.

It's been quiet around here. There's a reason for that: a lack of angst.

In spite of what our little family has been through this year...what we have to face in the coming months...years...there's peace.

And for that...I am grateful.

Tomorrow I will sit down to Thanksgiving dinner with my family...my husband, my children, my sister and her family and our parents... a feat our nomadic lives have rendered a rarity.

Next weekend we'll gather together as a family again and run in the Jingle Bell 5k. A show of solidarity...us against a nasty disease which chose the wrong family to pick on. The sheer number of friends and family who are joining us on December 4th is staggering and humbling. The support is there for all of us...for me, for my husband, for our daughter and our son. And I am so very grateful. Overwhelmingly grateful.

But one of my greatest blessings...I have a partner who stands beside me as an equal. We've come through the good, the bad and the ugly and I know the best years are ahead of us. And for that--all of that--I am eternally grateful.

It begged to be posted...really.

Motivation...with a side of perspective...

Yesterday was just a crappy day. Plain and simple. It wasn't like there were one or two big things that went wrong...it was more like a lot of little crappy things banded together in some Crappy Thing conspiracy and just made it a Bad Day. Kyleigh still wasn't feeling all that great, Sean was working late and kiddos snipping/bickering back and forth while I'm doing my best to come up with something edible for supper.

My running was put on hold last week on account of being hit with the Plague. Walking across the room left me winded--I wasn't about to attempt a 3 mile run. No way, no how. Monday morning I braced myself for the hurt and went out and ran 2 miles. And, yes...it hurt. But I had to get back into it and I knew that Wednesday's run would be better.

Except this morning I didn't want to run. Nope. After yesterday, I wanted to simply enjoy the quiet of my three child-free hours. Pour another cup of coffee. Curl up with the kitties on the couch and read. Maybe watch a movie. A non-animated movie. And not run.

Neither of my children were very enthusiastic regarding the prospect of school this morning. Jacob was just sluggish and required a little extra prodding but he made it to the bus just fine. Kyleigh, however, was on the verge of Flat Out Refusal. Is there a greater force on this earth than a stubborn 3-year-old? I think not. Wee girlie still isn't all the way over her cold and she was complaining about her legs hurting. She and I sat on the stairs and chitchatted about her friends in her preschool...her teachers...the new kitchen set in her classroom...what sort of picture she was going to paint today. Then I asked if she wanted to walk to school...and, just like that, she was all ready to go.

I walked her down to the school...and then I ran three miles through and around the neighborhood. Because I may be many things, but Hypocrite is not one of them.

Side note...the Jingle Bell 5k is in 17 days! We have 12 team members so far...family and friends all joining us to rally around this tiny little Force of Nature and remind her that no matter what...she can do anything she sets her mind to do!

A note from our sponsors...

They just wanted to say "Hi!"

Car talk...

The other night driving out to our free dinner at Chili's the following conversation took place...

Jacob: What sort of creatures live in those woods?

Me: What sort do you think?

Kyleigh: Wolves!

J: (long suffering sigh) No...wolves don't live in these woods, Kyleigh! There are only sticks and trees.

M: Really? What about zombies?

J: (again with the sigh and eyeroll) Mommy. Zombies are bigger than sticks.

M: Maybe they're smart zombies and they're camouflaged.

J: Even camouflaged zombies would be bigger than a stick.

M: What about fairy zombies? Can fairies turn into zombies?

J: Mommy. Fairies are just stories.

Sean (finally chiming in): I can't believe you're arguing zombie ecology with a 5-year-old.

M: What? Who else will argue with me about zombies? Honestly. It's like you don't always think these things through.

Oh, for the love of...

I keep thinking things are going to slow down, get back to normal...and then I realize that this is normal and I need to get used to it. But there are some days when I want to repeat my daughter's petulant, foot stomping retort when I tell her to get a grip:

But I don't wan' to get a gwip.

I hear ya, Toots. I hear ya.

Parent/teacher conferences were last week. It is also the week when Sean was out teaching at the range. No flexibility in that schedule. None. So...our meeting with Jacob's teacher? 7 am Wednesday morning. Honestly? It was relaxed and unrushed. Students don't arrive until 7:20 so we were able to talk about more than we probably would have had we managed a meeting during regular hours. I think we all came away from the meeting reassured that our high-spirited, old soul, brilliant child was in good hands. She is very much aware of who he is and the challenges we all have ahead of us. For his part, Jacob remains delighted with school. He doesn't see himself as different from his peers and the special attention he receives is taken in stride.

The plague has descended on our little household in waves...first the Boy, then the Daddy both suffered from a nasty stomach/intestinal bug...then the Girl and I both came down with colds. Her's includes the bonus ear infection. I have far, far too much to do on any given day to be down and out with a cold. But yesterday I gave in to it and she and I spent a fair portion of our day snuggled on the couch with the kitties watching movies. We all need days like that. My afternoon today included a much needed nap because the Most Wonderful Man came home early. Just so I could nap. How did I get so lucky?

Side note...months ago when we were told that Kyleigh would be on medication pretty much for the rest of her life, our prayer was that she would take it without protestation. And she does. And we're extremely grateful. However, during last night's and this morning's battle to get her to take her antibiotics, it was brought to our attention that maybe we should have made a slightly broader request. We should have prayed that she take all of her medication without the drama and protests. Is there any greater force on earth than a stubborn 3-year-old? I think not.

And lastly, since "seeing the future" is not one of my Gifts, prior to falling victim to the Plague I volunteered to make baked goodies for the preschool's bake sale this Saturday. No take backs. But I recently came across a really yummy and simple recipe that I want to try out...I'll share, I promise!

Right. Whining time is over. Sinus meds and bed are next on my schedule. Besides, the laptop battery is red-lining...and I have neither the will nor the motivation to get up and go fetch the power cord.

Busy...

Despite an unusually long week, I had a fun project as well...

A dear friend's son turns 5 this week but his birthday party was last night. Last year at his party--after devouring the police car cake I'd made for him--he, very solemnly, informed me that he would like a firetruck cake the next year, "please, Miss Dori."

A year later he was still asking for the same thing, how could I deny him?

And I must admit...I think this is my favorite one so far. Certainly the most challenging--far more so than the Millennium Falcon! But it was fun and delightful and the birthday boy loved it!

Last year, this cake would have been the end of the "birthday season" around here--at least as far as my cake making goes. But there's another one this year...a very special little guy turns a year old in a few weeks! He's getting a duck cake...still working on the plans for that one. Don't worry...there'll be pictures, because if ever we had a reason to celebrate--this birthday is it!

Old voices...

An old house holds multiple lifetimes of memories. Some are bound to spill over into the present.

Under the attic floorboards are small bits of other people's lives...toy soldiers that slipped through and were forgotten, ribbons from another wee girl from another time, an earring long given up for lost. One day, when the current house "to-do" list is completed, boards may be pulled up and 80-some years of bits and baubles will be cleaned out. Or it may simply be left for whomever comes after and has the privilege of calling this old house their home.

Since our arrival, a fan has been on in our children's room. White noise to cover the floor squeaks, moans and groans so our light sleepers could stay asleep. A couple of nights ago that fan had had enough and the one from our bedroom took its place.

For the past couple of nights the sounds of the house have lolled me to sleep. Sounds usually covered up by the fan. Quiet sleep woofs from the dog tucked in the corner in her bed...playfulness from kitties downstairs...creaks and groans as the house settles for the night...and faint whispers of something else. Voices, music right on the edge of my hearing...and last night, just out of reach, the sound of bagpipes. I'll have to ask our neighbor about that. Far from being mournful, it was a comfort. My sleep was sound and my dreams adventurous.

Compromise...

It's been a long weekend. And now it's cold. I want chili. The day is screaming for it. Right now the crockpot is loaded with "Sean isn't home but I want chili and don't care if I'm the only one who eats it" Chili. Yeah...remember that I'm not the cook in this house? And to the best of my knowledge, I have never made chili.

We may all be eating grilled cheese sandwiches for supper. And there's nothing wrong with that either.