The Painting Diaries

My Mom is visiting right now. There is always some sort of project while she visits, usually to ward off her boredom. My brothers and I have a saying: If you ever want to feel lazy, have Mom and Dad visit. They are really the most hard working people I know.

During their first visit, Dad and Mom helped paint the entire downstairs, fix holes in the wall, and fix flooring issues. The second visit, they painted the outside of the house. The third, they built me a pond. The fourth, they remodeled the kitchen.

Actually, Mom and I are getting smarter. While the men (my Dad and Willie) remodeled the kitchen, we went to the spa. Halle and Morgan watched The Jungle Book and Snoopy Come Home five times each.

This visit, it's Halle and Morgan who are doing the painting. And they're having a great time doing it.

Hold Your Horses

I often tell Halle to hold her horses, which of course means, "be patient". Although I have explained this hidden meaning, I still get colorful responses: "Horses are just animals!", "I don't have any horses", "I can't hold horses!" and, my favorite, "I hate my horses!"

Patience is certainly the most frustrating virtue. That's probably why it is a virtue. Something that hard should receive some kind of recognition. I was reminded of another difficult cliche the other day when I sent Halle inside for time out. While playing with her sister outside, an incident occurred wherein I sent Halle inside for four minutes. When I told her it was okay to return, she didn't hop to the door. I went inside to investigate.

You're not supposed to cry over spilled milk, but I guess it's fine to yell about it. Halle had reached inside the refrigerator, retrieved the milk, and had poured it all over the kitchen table.

Yesterday, during quiet time, it was a little too quiet. So I took a nap. Halle painted her nails. Actually, she painted her feet and hands, but her nails did get covered. Good thing I don't have any horses either; otherwise, I would have to hold them.

Golf Cart Towing

This past weekend, I learned to drive a golf cart. I also learned where to have golf cart chargers fixed when you're in the Outer Banks. In putting the golf cart into reverse, I accidentally tested its towing capacity. Sure enough. A golf cart can jerk its charger off the wall and tow it a couple feet. We went to the beach, wore the kids out, and then put them down for a nap. While my friends monitored supposedly sleeping children, (I did hear that Halle pounced on a sleeping Morgan a couple times) I slipped out. I went to "John's Golf Carts" and, I assume, spoke to John.

"I think I need a new charger," I said.
"A new one is going to cost you 400 dollars," he replied. "But I can fix just about any charger for around 50 dollars. I've fixed them when they've looked like they were hit by a truck. Do you have it with you?" Of course I didn't have it with me. That would have been too easy. It was 4:45, he closed at 5:00 and we were leaving the next day. "I'll tell you what," John said. "I'll stay open for you if you go back and get the charger. I'll fix it while you wait."

The traffic was so bad that it took an hour to travel three miles. But I retrieved the machinery, took it back to the shop, and John was impressed by the damage. "Holy mackerel!" he exclaimed. I guess the regular mackerel didn't cover it. But amazing perhaps both of us, he fixed it right up.

It always amazes me how God takes care of us: it really doesn't matter why we need bailed out. Even if we did something incredibly stupid, He is faithful. And I appreciate that He occasionally uses even holy mackerel.

Terrible Advice From Trees

"There's nothing to be scared of here. Just trust in Mother Nature...listen for the great wolf's howl, he says you're safe here now" the tree in the center of Great Wolf Lodge sings. There's an entire clock tower that comes alive, including a tree, a child that rises out of a stump, a moose head, raccoon, and Native American woman who emerges from inside a house. These characters collectively give the worst outdoor survival advice imaginable. On top of that, they frightened one little boy so badly that he didn't trust the hotel for the remainder of his stay. If you think about it, his reaction was probably the most logical. If someone told me to trust wolves, I would keep my eye on 'em.

We were there for a conference, a gathering of soldier's wives. Halle learned a lot. We shared a room with a friend and her two kids - a three year old boy and five year old girl. The boy was getting ready to hit the water park, so he stripped down and streaked across the room. "What was that?" Halle asked, whipping her head around. "Boys are made different than girls," I said. "Look at me. Look in my eyes. Focus on me."

It was very educational. The last time we went over there, it resulted in my buying a GPS and Halle throwing up. This time, my friend Casey threw up and her son got a rash that made his skin look like a red T-shirt. It turns out that the levels of chlorine in that indoor water park could probably disinfect the ocean.

At least we know better than to trust the advice of trees. Don't listen to them. Stay away from wolves.

Rules I Didn't Expect to Make

There are some things that should be common sense, even to a three year old. Then again, in the chain of events that occurred Wednesday, I wasn't entirely blameless. I was painting something on our back deck for a project and thought that since the girls were playing so intently inside, that I could sneak out and get the painting done before they missed me. Right, like that was going to happen.

As they piled out the back door, I told them that they had to wear an old T shirt over their clothes. I ran inside to  retrieve the items and found that there was a spot all ready on Morgan's dress. I slipped a T shirt over Halle, but in my rush to save the dress, I left Morgan outside with just a diaper on.

In the three minutes it took for me to run water, rub soap on the paint spot and leave it to soak, Halle was busy. I came outside to find Morgan painted. Morgan's nose, cheeks, ear, entire tummy, and diaper were all green. "Halle, you are not allowed to paint your sister!" I said in shock. These are words I had not expected to ever say out loud. Or in my head, for that matter. "Oh," she said, as though this was a surprising restriction.

I ran for the garden hose to wash the child and while I drug that from the side of the house, the girls had painted a large portion of the deck. Our deck will never look the same. As I sprayed down the deck (after giving Mo a white trash bath), I saw Mo painting the item that I had started in the first place. I finished washing what I could, then put away the painting for later when the girls were napping. That's really what I should have done in the first place, but there's nothing like learning the same lesson over and over and over again.

Travel Tip

Buy the person next to on the airplane alcohol. This makes your child's attempt at hide-and-go-seek actually rather funny and her anecdotes about her imaginary friend hilarious. I didn't even have to buy the drinks for the Marine sitting next to me. He had a buddy traveling with him who had supplied him a couple rounds before they boarded.

The buddy (we'll call him Dave) had not seen drinking alone in a seat down the aisle from a tiny bathroom an obstacle. The spirits were flowing. Dave approached my neighbor and spotted me. He gave me a wink and a couple eyebrow raises. You know they've had too many when you're still looking like a viable option with two kids in tow. Neighbor asks Dave to share the riches with him. Dave glances in my direction and stuffs a twenty in Neighbor's hand, then heads to the bathroom.

"Do you really feel good about taking advantage of your friend when he's in this state?" I asked the guy sitting next to me.

He shoved the bill in his pocket and said, "It's what Marines do. I only met that guy two days ago."

Huh. Perhaps a lack of generosity would account for my not joining the service. Whatever the case, the flights home were actually somewhat enjoyable. I thank God for that. I also find myself thanking Him for Sam Adams, something I have not had occasion to do before.

Chocolate Bunnies

Two days before Christmas, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. After receiving the news one friend asked, "Are they going to hack anything off?" A very good looking plastic surgeon hacked off something in January. Before going under, the surgeon asked if my mom was ready. "I'm sure you've seen better," she replied, "but I guess I'm as ready as possible." My intrepid mother made decisions no one should have to make, received news with grace, and pondered her circumstances with a sense of humor that only comes from knowing that God is in control.

Recently, I attended one of her appointments with her. Apparently, only attractive people are allowed to work in plastic surgery offices. As I strolled through the glass doors, I had to wonder if the staff takes bets on what visitors would like to have done.

After the appointment, we hit the mall. You need to see some train wrecks after you've been to a high class clinic. Halle found a purse that looked almost identical to a chihuahua. Grover's mom needed it, she said.

"What could Grover's mother possibly need it for?" I asked.
"To put chocolate bunnies in for Grover."
Of course that's what Grover's mother would use it for. I wished my mother had chocolate bunnies in her purse for me. The purse looks so real that a dog actually sniffed its butt when we were at a different store.

We left feeling more blessed than before we had come. The greatest blessing is seeing my mom well and to have such an intrepid mother to begin with. But not too far down the list is Grover's mom's purse.