I suppose I'm making up for lost time by submitting another post this soon. I went for months without posting a thing. I'm not quite sure if it was because we moved and I needed to find peace in our new home before I could dedicate time to the blog, or if I just had a dry spell. It's likely a bit of both. At any rate, I hope to be doing this more often.

Dylan and I went to Fort Ebey for a hike last weekend. He enjoyed being in the woods and exploring the trails. It's tourist season, so it was busier than other times Justin and I have gone to hike with the dog. There were a lot of folks out with the kids.

Max was pretty good. He seems to be getting better with people (in small doses), but still acts like a rabid dawg when he encounters other pets. Wish he would learn some manners. After going to Fort Ebey, Dylan and I headed over to Fort Nugent to play at the 'Castle'. Unfortunately Max acted like a nut and I found it too difficult to keep a good eye on Dyl, and simultaneously handle the mutt. Needless to say, we had to cut it short and head back to the car.

We tried leaving the dog alone in the car with the windows down a bit, but he cried hysterically. It ended up that Dylan and I had to take the poor emotional dog home before he had a breakdown. It all turned out okay though, because we were a tad hungry. It gave us a good excuse to sit for a bit together and have a treat. We went to Wendy's and had a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger and a frosty. It was fun just chilling and watching all the motorcycles ride past; they're always out in numbers on beautiful summer days.

After our lunch, we took Max home and headed back to Ft. Nugent. Dylan had a great time. His favorite activity at the park was climbing up the tires. His second favorite thing was hanging like a monkey. He would count 1 . . . 2 . . . 3 then drop to the ground. The next time, he would count to 4, then 5, and continued all the way up until he got to 10! When it was time to leave, he stalled as much as he could. He begged me to let him swing since he had not done that yet. He worked very hard at what his Grammy had taught him . . . how to pump his legs while on a swing. After the swing, he begged to try walking the rope, and so it continued to the tires, and as we finally began to walk the path returning to the car, he decided it would be a much better idea to let mom go ahead by herself. Naturally I had to chase him a bit. And when I finally wrestled him over the back seat and into his chair, I had to promise to bring him back.

It was a great day together =)

So about a week or so ago I decided to plant some flowers. They bring me a little piece of home, which is important considering I haven't been back in three years. My grandparents had tons of flowers for as long as I can remember, and they seemed to take great pride in what they grew. My grandfather would walk around the house showing me what was new, which flowers the 'birds planted', ones he was most proud of, which ones he snipped and began growing in jars, etc. He would share the names and tell me how to take care of each. Everything he planted seemed to flourish.

As I got older, he gave me flowers to plant at my own house. Every evening I got my hands in the dirt, or spent time outside watering or pruning the plants, was therapeutic. It was a gift I’ll cherish forever; a gift I hope my boys eventually carry on with their children. I love being outdoors and appreciate nature to its fullest. I recruited my oldest son Zack to help select and plant our garden. He worked pretty hard, and we got everything planted in record time, despite encountering terrible soil and a ton of rocks. It was great having his assistance, not just because it was less work for me, but because we were spending time together working toward a common goal. I thoroughly enjoyed his company. And since then, I love seeing him out watering the flowers taking pride in his handiwork.

I should also mention that we had the little guy ‘helping’ us dig. He’s always eager to be a big helper, and constantly emulates his big 'bros'. I must say though, he’s a bit better at watering the flowers, than he is digging.

I decided the best pop of color I could give our house would be vivid purples, since our house is a pale yellow. Rather than be boring and only stay with purple hues, I added a few spots of pink too, but I tried to keep the pink flowers bold; mostly fuchsia. Together we planted Salvia, Phlox, Mexican Heather, Fox Gloves, Butterfly Bushes, Blue Bells, Asters, and a few others. We already had a gorgeous pink Hyacinth blooming by the front porch.

I love each of them. Some were chosen strictly for their color, while others reminded me of my grandparents, and several were purchased for their sweet fragrance. My grandfather had butterfly bushes, which I think our whole family loved. Although I’m sure we won’t be here long enough to see these ones grow as tall as the one we had at our last home, I’m hoping they attract some butterflies. My neighbor’s favorite color is purple, and she loves butterflies so much, that she actually harvested about 30 this spring. It would be ideal if someone else can share in the joy, taking simple pleasure from our garden.

The flowers are still rather small at the moment, but hopefully by the end of summer they will start filling out a bit.

OMO! "Let's Get Retarded"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ezrUd8xH0gQ

When Glen Beck aired a video used for a Swedish documentary, I was not at all surprised, but I was infuriated. Clearly our teaching standards have hit an all time low. Anyone can watch this and understand why our Public Schools are failing. This video is a classic example of someone telling children how to think, as opposed to teaching them how to think for themselves. The whole purpose of education is not to create mini clones, but to inspire and foster our children; to encourage free thought, stimulate debate, and generate new ideas. Ms. Harris, you are an epic failure. Do not collect $200, do not pass GO. In fact, head straight back to College because you need an education.

Playing Devil’s advocate, Harris very well may have criticized Barack Obama too; however I somehow doubt that would have been edited. Regardless, calling a student out and putting them on the spot because their father is in the military, is deplorable. As a military wife, I know full well the emotional struggles our children endure. If they haven’t provided special training, I would bank on the fact that Cumberland County Schools have, at minimum, encouraged their teachers to be sensitive in the classroom.
Shame on you Ms. Harris for your lack of judgment! On your return to college, please ensure that you enroll in a few Psychology courses, since common sense manners go right over your head.

You may also want to take a few History courses while you’re at it; specifically those which study Martin Luther King Jr. and the wars Americans have fought in. Hearing ‘that’s a good answer too’ when a student said he would vote for Barack because he wanted a black president, made me want to puke. Ms. Harris, Dr. King did not fight for one man to be chosen over another because of his race. He fought for equality. He dreamt of a world where his children would not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. Tell me, did you instill in your students that it’s a good idea to vote for someone because of their looks? WOW! That’s the epitome of Idiocracy.

I am astounded by the blatant stupidity you exhibited in the classroom. Ms. Harris, I have to say, you sicken me. Over 600,000 individuals have died for America . . . DIED, Ms. Harris. Whether they fought for its creation, its ideals, or its freedoms, which by the way include the right to vote, their deaths should not be treated lightly. The right to vote is a duty and an honor. It should be done so responsibly. Voting for someone because they are a man, they are from your home state, they look pretty, or any other superficial, cockamamie, reason is never a good answer! Smart people vote on principles, character, track records. Anyone who votes based on looks need not apply.

Lastly, Public school system or not, it is never acceptable to say “Oh Jesus!” or “Oh Lord!” in the classroom. It is offensive and intimidating; counterproductive to stimulating an honest conversation or debate. So, before you leave your grade school classroom for college, how about washing your mouth out too.

Not only would I ensure my child would never sit in your class again, I would make it my mission to end your career. Both you and the school hold accountability for this mess. I hope the school makes the appropriate determination to take corrective action by telling you not to let the door hit you on the way out.

Between work, extracurricular activities, a husband in the Navy, and three active boys, my only desire after the sun sets is to hide in the darkness of my room and disguise myself amongst the covers.

Despite being lectured for years that ‘sleep’ doesn’t count I’ve often thought of snoozing as the time I took for myself. After hearing the same advice from various sources, something in me recently clicked. I rationalized that moving bed time up by 30 minutes, would free three and a half hours every week. Being the queen of self inflicted guilt, I reasoned that I could surely manage to dedicate three hours a week to myself.

What to do with all that time? Blogging seemed to be an obvious choice for several reasons. With family 2000+ miles away and three hours ahead, it is a way to keep them posted on our little clan. By the time we eat dinner it’s too late to call the relatives back home in the ‘Burgh.

As I mentioned my husband is in the Navy, so often times it falls to me to lead. As a female I obviously have no clue what a young boy is thinking, at least not most times. Being plagued by self doubt doesn’t help. I question most of the decisions I make, as well as the majority of advice I offer our boys. Though I’ll never tell them that; at least not for a while, anyway. The gears that churn in my mind and heart should be broken by now. Though not broken, they are worn and surely explain my level of sanity, or dare I say lack thereof.

The doubts I have parenting tear me apart. On several occasions, I have attempted to write my uncertainties in a journal, but found myself quitting within a few days because I lacked patience. Simply put, it took too long writing everything by hand. Not only did it consume more time than I was willing to give, but I became frustrated by my inability to jot down ideas fast enough. I’m hoping typing will work out much better than the writing.

After all, it would be nice to look back in a few years and remind my children of what little angels they once were. For now the worst thing I could possibly document is their morphing into Decepticons when it’s time to do chores or clean their rooms.

Hopefully this will serve not only as an update for family, but also as a place for me to vent, unwind, and make light of the chaos that consumes life.

Here’s to testing the theory that making time for me will ultimately make the home more pleasant for everyone.

Cheers,

Lauren