New Addition

My devoted dog was my best friend before I had a baby. I have an absurd amount of photos of my photogenic pooch. We spent many hours hiking and swimming and camping. When I went on maternity leave she was spoiled with even more of my time. Many long walks before and after baby. She grew to expect more than a simple walk. She came on a camping trip with us when I was about 25 weeks and enjoyed our company 24 hours a day for over a week.

I always had a dog and wanted that for my daughter. They fill my memories. Though not all pleasant. Like when our 180 pound dog decided to chase something and dragged me, about 10 years old, down the street. Or the time my dog didn't want me on the swing and ripped my pants and panties off pulling me down. Or the many accidental injuries where tooth met skin. But he would go down the slide with us. He would ride the merry-go-round. And the silly guy would pick all the ripe cherry tomatoes off the vine, leaving the green ones.

When pregnant I considered getting another dog. My dog is now nine years old. So she is only expected to live for a few more years. (Why can't they live longer??) Apparently, she is like a 60 year old! Well, she is a very healthy, vibrant senior. The other day she ran 11 kilometres with me.

I wanted a second dog while the first was still around to help train (except for the overprotective of momma part). I decided I did not want a puppy. The chewing and biting would drive me crazy. I considered a few opportunities for a one year old but wanted to wait for the perfect one that was used to other dogs and to children. I am very glad I had waited. With postpartum depression it would have been very difficult to deal with another responsibility. In addition, my dog, who is my child's best friend, had to get used to having an attention-monopolising baby around. With a k-9 addition, she has to get used to sharing the pats and treats, too.

Today I finally brought home a one year old mix who grew up with two children. He is half shepherd. This is the breed that I grew up with. My family dogs had been very, very smart and easy to train. They played tag, ballon volleyball, and hide-and-go seek without sniffing. They were a substantial part of my life growing up. And I look forward to watching these two interact with my girl.

I was a little worried about my older dog. She is extremely well behaved but she is very protective and she likes to be the boss dog. We live around many dogs and we do not have a fence. She probably thinks of the whole street as her territory. Like a referee, she stops other dogs from playing. She chases certain ones away religiously but let's others come by whenever.

Growing up, my male dog dominated the female. We didn't quite grasp to what extent. She didn't swim or fetch or bark. But when he passed she suddenly did all these things. She had been happy when he was alive. But she didn't seem to miss him when he was gone.

Hopefully my two pooches will enjoy each other. The new addition is eight years younger and therefore has much more energy. He tried to play with a ball at ten o'clock last night and my old girl told him not to. It took some time before he would cautiously try to play again. But today, to my surprise, the dogs excitedly jumped and chased outside like two exuberant puppies. Until my old girl was done. Poor Buddy is confused why it was okay only for a few minutes. He'll learn, though.

Right now they peacefully sleep next to each other in the living room as their human sibling naps in her room. Oh wait, they woke up and want to play. Shhhh! No barking! When munchkin wakes up we will try some off leash play somewhere. After I vacuum this hairy living room carpet.

Don't Bug Me

My daughter's capacity to be around bugs has recently been drastically lowered by a six year old. The older girl impulsively screamed at a beetle. When my toddler saw another, she let out a fake scream that was an impassioned impression of what she'd recently heard, just like it was the right thing to do. Using her little sponge brain and basing her reaction on what had been demonstrated, she gave that beetle as much attention as she thought was required. But then, not knowing how to deal with the little critter, it turned to real tears.

Hopefully I can convince my girl that they (bugs) are most often harmless. We will spend much time outdoors and explore. Possibly set out on scavenger hunts looking for different kinds. We will read about them and learn their benefits. (What is the benefit to a mosquito? They only seem to accomplish annoyance and, to drastic extreme, spread disease.)

Yesterday, I made a futile attempt to curtail her fears. She has always enjoyed pointing out bees in books, but she was a little apprehensive about the one randomly flitting about our bathroom the day before, hiding and reappearing. I had told her it was just trying to find the door, but she kept contact with me and repeatedly checked. Unfortunately, when she asked about it on day two and I confidently told her that it was no longer around (I hadn't seen or heard it in 24 hours), it conveniently fell out of its hiding spot in the skylight and landed right next to her in the tub, still alive enough to be squirming. By her intense reaction I at first thought it had stung her, but it was just her overwhelming fear telling her to evacuate. My instinct to hold her close in her anguish (and my guilt for reassuring her falsely) is a response that may not have only comforted her but confirmed her worry.

Bugs don't really scare me but they are just one of those things that give a sense of peril. It's amazing what such a small arachnoid can do. They torment millions with their eensy-weensy grandeur. Even when we know it isn't poisonous we seem to fear its impending attack. For me it's their sneakiness. They can suddenly appear.

Like the time I found myself standing on an ant hill. Or when I tried to ignore the hounding wasps and one flew up my nose. Or once in line at the clinic when I found a beetle on my neck (first thinking, "I don't have a necklace with a pendant this big"). In my sudden panic I let out a scream and threw the Coleoptera. People turned and looked at me strangely.

I have often kept my reactions in check and accepted bugs as part of the environment. But I have had a few little startles.

Then there are those big, black, hairy spiders that lurk in basements. I once dropped a book on one and left it there for days, not wanting to look upon that gloomy, eight legged mini-monster. Okay, I did claim I am not afraid of bugs. Those big scary creatures don't count, right? I remember once as a child sleeping on the stairs after finding one in my bed.

Good thing it's the middle of the day. I might not sleep well if I tried immediately following this discussion.

Maybe, even though I don't generally scream, I need to work on my own discomfort with mini-large things with eight legs if I am going to help my girl not have any trepidation. Or, maybe we'll just be amicable to all other creatures, including the harmless daddy long-legs. Whatever the case, bugs aren't going to stop us from enjoying the outdoors. A hiking we will go.

Grandfather

The other day I was sadly informed of my grand father's peaceful passing. My ache was intensified by the fact that my daughter and I had not been to see him since summer. It was a span of about eight months, I think. He didn't live overly far away. A five hour drive. In my daughter's 17 months she had only visited him two times. And boy, did he adore her and her smile and her red hair. I won't even bother trying to list my excuses. The fact is, we wanted to go but we did not. Now, I can never make up for something I had intended to do with all my heart.

I have many sentimental memories of my "Opa". Like the time when we camped and I befriended someone who didn't speak english and he was our rough translator. Or the time he had a few drinks at our house and he walked down the street belting out dutch songs.

He and my Oma were very close. I saw hand holding, kisses, hugs. They were a solid relationship in a world of broken hearts and struggling ties. Married for 66 years! And still in love. Even if they didn't communicate as well in their 80s. Throughout his sickness they refused to put him in a home and he insisted on my Oma's home cooking. They were dedicated to each other.

We would go camping and go to the hot springs. We would go to his Dutch club. We would drive around and look at the scenery. We would feed the birds. We would play cards and dice. He would tell me about things he built, especially when I married a construction worker. He would purposely spit out his false teeth.

As I reminisced about our time together I realized that often my mom was not there. I recall some trips with her but many times she was not present. And in a short span when they lived in the same area we would often walk straight to Oma and Opa's house after school.

We enjoyed a close relationship with our grandparents. This is something I would really like my daughter to have with all of her grandparents. But I have already received comments that no one is sure if I'll let her spend any extended time without me. This June, she will be staying with her cousins while I attend an event. I know she will have a blast. But it will be a nerve wracking first for me. Hmmm, I definitely have a problem.

I treasure my little girl very much. I want to be there for all of her victorious firsts. I want her to know that I am genuinely interested and that I care. Time is flying by and I want to hold on to any moment that I can get. I know I will have trouble eventually letting her go but, in my view, that is still very far away.

In many areas of my life I have learned that insecurity or worry will impede opportunities. I don't want my longing to not miss anything to create a lack of relationship that will result in others missing out. I have tried to create the atmosphere with me present. I watched her laugh heartily for the first time with my mother. I heard her say "love" for the first time ever in response to her paternal grand mother's "love, love, love you" (previously her expression was always, "I you"). She already has her traditions. Crackers and Grandma and Grandpa's. Playing with her Oma's cane.

More memories to be made and traditions to develop. When we go over there for dinner. Take walks downtown in the summer and meet family. Go to the beach. Maybe go camping together. I'll tell her about my camping trips with my Oma and Opa. Like the time that I was so sunburnt that I spent the whole day lounging in the bug tent.

And just maybe, maybe, my little girl will go on a camping trip without me.

Sex Culture

There is a constant bombardment of choices when it comes to parenting. Many decisions need to be made about where we will stand and why. Balance is sought, but we have to figure out where that balance even is, as there will always be someone who finds the decision too strict and someone else who finds it too lenient.

I have had to make many choices. Some came natural and others required research. Some felt like the solid, right choice while others brought up conflicting thoughts. Some went with the flow and others were definitely against the grain.

One issue that will be a fight against our surroundings is sexuality. I want my child, my only baby, to enjoy her childhood as long as possible. Before having her I had more concrete, straight-laced ideas. No Disney, with the man always saving the helpless woman. No sexy music videos. No toy catalogues. No magazines with half dressed women in the ads. I was planning on sheltering her.

After having her I questioned my puritanical motives. I know that, in this area and others like junk food and tv, making the boundaries too rigid will just result in her not developing adequate self control as well as producing in her the desire to rebel. I have witnessed this happen. So I must give my convictions some cogitation.

I am glad that many areas have improved for men and women and their rights. I know that trends come out of a pendulum swing of trying to break free of the bonds of the past. I do appreciate that the topic of sex is no longer taboo. My daughter won't go into a relationship (waaaay down the road) terrified with no idea. But hopefully I can help her develop a healthy attitude about her body and when she will allow someone else to share it with her.

Today, my mind was reopened to its battle with what is acceptable in such a market-based society. I watched the movie Sext Up Kids on CBC. I won't go in to the many points that confirmed my desire to keep my daughter from having to deal with sexuality at such a young age. But unfortunately, the video confirmed how difficult that is going to be.

I hate commercial marketing. Money comes before anything else. (Check out some of the other issues in advertising to children here). Sex sells. Musicians can sell more music with sexy. And so that is what they do. Clothes are marketed to make a person look hot. And it makes its way off the shelf, so this feature is being offered to a lower and lower age. Everywhere we look, it's all about being sensual, seductive, flirtatious.

Porn used to be hard to find. Now it is available without entering the corner store. Just the click of a mouse. Or the phone. Society is accepting it and, as the video says, pop culture is becoming what would be considered soft porn a few years ago.

And we let it filter into our children's lives thinking it is harmless and cute. Because, we figure, they don't understand, and it doesn't mean that to them. Dance away like that. Wear what you want. Watch whatever. I may sound like a prude. But, then they become teenagers and they are already in the flow of sexuality. They are experienced and now they hunger to get noticed by the opposite sex and they'll use it. Being a teenager is an insecure period. Now, there are more methods to get noticed.

The problem is that the younger these opportunities to realize the meaning and use of sexuality arise, the less the brain is developed to handle it. Risky actions are taken that will effect self confidence, and even how they are viewed by others, for a long time to come. It only takes one time to get an STD. It only takes one picture to go viral online.

We live in a high tech, easy to share, easy to find information society. I am very grateful that I didn't have email until about graduation, Facebook until I was 30, a cell phone until I was married. My party scene is just in the forgotten (hopefully) memories of some and not plastered all over cyberspace. A place more public than young people believe.

The Internet is great in its plethora of information. But some of that information doesn't need to be accessed by children. There are topics in parenting I haven't quite set myself on yet, but I will help monitor what my daughter looks upon online, on tv, on paper. And I hope her family would love her enough to do that as well.

I accept that some people wouldn't agree it is an issue. I know that my faith and my belief that sex is a wonderful thing in a monogamous relationship will close me down to some things that others will feel is okay, like teenagers experimenting with sex. I know some people will continue to believe "sexy" as a theme for children is harmless. But I truly believe things are going to get worse and one day matters will start to change. We will realize the effects and we will choose to take action instead of ignoring and saying, "It will be okay".

I encourage you to watch the video. I watched it with some other mothers and I was glad to hear their hope that there will be other families out there who don't want to follow the mainstream culture. They want to ask themselves, "What is right for my child and his or her development and his or her future?"

Genuine Laughter

My daughter laughed so hard today that she could barely stand. It filled her lungs and practically cascaded out of every pore in a celestial song. Her face lit up. Her rosy cheeks formed pleasant apples that must have ached in their exaggerated position as her mouth opened wide. Her head tipped back. Her legs teetered.

My daughter's laughter is like a refreshing breeze carrying away stress. It is like a fountain of youth splashing our spirits with the nectar of vitality and bliss. Her laughter is rich because it is an honest, indulgent laugh. Not something provoked by insecure feelings of what she should do, or something forced in order to get attention. It is a genuine, spontaneous impulse that bursts forth with great delight. Delight to her and to her enthralled audience.

A toddler's merriment is so simple and sincere. It isn't clouded by fear and judgement. It isn't as hard to pull out, as it isn't trying to break through entrenched walls and fortified chains. Most of us lose the ability at some point. We lose that penchant for elation. We deem it as unnecessary or inappropriate. Or even inconvenient. And we shut it down. The more we ignore it, the less it is willing to step out and brandish its exuberant expression. Laughter frequently rejected does not come forth.

It is so true that laughter is the best medicine. It brings with it a salve for the wounded heart. A hug for the overwrought mind. A caress for the tensed psyche. But medicine does nothing if not applied or consumed. The laugh will heal more completely the deeper it reaches into our marrow.

My daughter's laughter reminds me that relationships are important. It reminds me to let go of what is inconsequential (this applies to more than we believe it does in the moment). It reminds me to forgive what I cannot change. It reminds me to part with sorrow and its stifling grasp. It reminds me that we were created for wonder and festivity and curiosity and love.

Get in touch with your inner child. Let him or her remind you of the days you felt truly free. Let that freedom encompass all of you in a way that will prolong your peace instead of just a momentary blink into its restoration. Give yourself permission to be there. To live there. Regardless of your pains and sorrows. In spite of your anguish or frustration. A peaceful, happy person doesn't have it better than one who negatively ruminates and holds bitterness. They may even have identical setbacks, but they deal with it better. They can laugh at the face if adversity. They can access our hard-wired, easily acceptable, free antidote. Laughter.

It is most definitely possible. It is natural. Just look at the children. And pray that they won't forget.

Company's Coming

In a month we will be having family come and stay with us. Right now I hunger for family time as my grandfather just passed. I feel guilty that he hadn't seen his great granddaughter since summer. Finances got in the way. I don't want other things to get in the way of family relationships. Other things... Yes, there are always too many other things.

I am really looking forward to the hugs and laughter and to watching our children play. We don't get to see each other often enough. With growing children, though, even a few months apart encompasses many milestones and transitions. If during the visit we simply just sit around and have a barbecue with family, it will be special. I welcome them to stay with us as it provides a personal opportunity for a little more visiting. But even though I can't wait for that weekend, I still find the idea of company rather stressful.

I am sure the blood pressure of many housewives rises proceeding a full house. Or, to the least extent, their to-do list somewhat lengthens. All the regular housework that needs to be done and presentable on the day of arrival. (Don't ever decorate with black cabinets. Especially under a skylight that accentuates the dust that forms in just half a day from toilet paper. Who knew?) Then a few extras, like cleaning up a accumulated clutter. But, indubitably, it does result in more checks off the list than regular day to day, no-one-is-coming over living. Nothing cleans the house better than the anticipation of a dynamic dinner party or of curious company visiting.

I should really encourage more "drop in" socializing. Then, for my own sanity, I would have to up-keep a little more effectively. And let a little more go. I don't mind a mess once in a while but it sure is humbling when a tornado blows through the kitchen right before the door bell rings. Or the dog molts a whole new puppy worth of hair onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

Our church held a conference last month and people came from other cities to attend. Instead of paying to stay in hotels they were graciously offered billeting. Time was spent together and the value of the weekend was immensely increased by getting to know each other.

I have an unused queen bed. I have the room to accommodate someone. I even have an extra bathroom. We love to have people over for meals. My daughter treasures having company. We should be opening up our home. But I didn't. Though my husband suggested it, he did not push it. Why not? Because his wife is a little crazy.

Perfection was my goal once. But it was such a lofty, unattainable goal that filled me with anger and discouragement. It made it hard to prioritize because everything was something that needed to be done. So often, nothing got done. When we were trying to adopt, the social worker came to check our home and said if I wanted to keep the interior as tidy as I had it I would be cleaning for over an hour a day. At the time I didn't really see how that time allotment would be unachievable.

Now I know better. I clean up toys and a high chair and books and dirty diapers all day. Then I can try to do the routine duties like dusting and laundry. And with a baby there is definitely more laundry. Sure, I could prioritize housework every day. But I'd rather enjoy my family. Which is all fine and dandy. Until company comes. Then the deep cleaning is a little behind (ugh, that fridge!) and the papers are piled up and the guest shower still needs to be caulked.

I tell myself they don't care. As long as they are safe and it doesn't smell (time to scrub the diaper pail). But those perfectionist roots are still lurking and whispering accusations into my ear. Cobwebs, fingerprints, dirty windows, stains. No matter how much you clean, dirt remains! The cupboards, the shelves, the closets, the stuff. Keep it or toss it, decisions are tough! I don't just fret over the clean-up, but also the organization and the presentation.

I still worry about what people think. And about how honest they are about what they think. I have many dear friends, even a husband, who I have seen say, "Don't worry, it's okay" about something when I know it isn't. So deep down I don't want to give them any room to judge. Which is just silly. We all judge on different levels. Even I have felt uncomfortable in a home because I was afraid to use the untouched soap and towel.

Some people like cozy, fabric-laden, fluffy and home made. Others like sleek and tidy and sanitary. Some like gadgets and doodads and gizmos. Others like natural and simple and plain. Some like noisy and some like serene. Some like dim and some like bright.

But they'd all probably like their host to be positive, sociable, kind. They definitely wouldn't want to feel their presence is a burden. That's why I am glad I have this great family coming to stay. They know I am growing. And they know that no matter what, I want them here. I can't wait!!

All Day, Baby

I could talk about my daughter all day, every day. I just can't get enough of her. When I am around family I feel they would want to be captivated by her accomplishments and cuteness as well. If I am around others who I know have small children, I strongly want to share stories of our munchkins' antics and where they are in their development, as well as any parenting tips (how do I stop her throwing?).

Sometimes I have to let it go, though. I catch myself and think I am going overboard. I know we all love our children, but many don't share the intensity of my 24/7 infatuation. They either are better at hiding it or, conversely, they enjoy a break (ask me in a few years).

It reminds me of how I knew my husband was falling in love with me. He could think of nothing else. He couldn't stop talking about me. Apparently at that juncture, "Did you know that Lindy..." was on his lips frequently in my absence. He was smitten. And now I am smitten with his sprightly, spitting-image spawn.

Maybe it's from finally having my baby at 34, when I had ached to be a mom for so very long. Maybe it's how shockingly she resembles her father--his long torso, his face, his expressions, his posture--when I was unsure if we would be able to create our child ourselves. Maybe it is just my love for children and my fascination with their development. She's my little science experiment. Maybe it's how motherhood uses my strengths and interests--creativity, exploring, cooking (okay, the repeated burnt meals attest that cooking is not a strength, but I really enjoy it). Maybe it is just simply I love to talk but I am horribly awkward when it comes to keeping conversation going (or believing anyone would want to chat with me in the first place) and so this is an easy topic.

My little girl is 17 months and amazes me. Of course she copies everything, but it is astonishing how quickly words transfer from parrot status into her very own broadening vocabulary. Yesterday she said excuse me to the dog. Two different times she identified the colour yellow. She is so close to counting to ten. She has a list of songs or rhymes she can almost do herself. Like "Tick Tock, Tick Tock, I'm a Little Cuckoo Clock" or "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star".

We were in the grocery store at the checkout. Pink's song Try was on the radio. As the chorus played through, my daughter listened and then joined. She chimed, in a beautiful tone, "Try, try, try". The cashier asked if she was going to be a rocker. I wondered if she'd ever even heard the song before. She definitely enjoys her music.

Last night she danced to a live band at a fundraiser (apparently she's a fan of the steel drums). I took her with me even though many mom friends left their children at home to enjoy a night out. It definitely took away from my ability to have a conversation. My daughter was so very busy. But I really delighted in the evening and the food and the bit she let me spend with the company (every time we went back to the table she would say "nooo!"). We finally left at 10:15pm, after dancing until her eyes would need toothpicks to hold them open. Tired, sore momma. Very tired baby.

One day she is going to roll her eyes and say, "No mom, we want to go without you." So until then I'll enjoy her company. One day I am going to hound her to get just a few measly details of her day's happenings. So until then I will contentedly drown myself in her exhilarating yet exhausting presence. One day I am going to miss her being right there. So until then I will hold her very close.

Of course, I pray our relationship will remain strong, but "our" life will eventually split as she finds "her" life. Like her big sister did. I only met her when she was 15 but it was still difficult to give her the keys to the car. To watch her graduate. To let her pick her mate and get married. To release her as she moved away. We'd love to tell her what to do and protect her and be there for everything, but she is her own, individual person. And her little sister is her own developing person, too.

I'll relish each and every moment I get.

And if you ever want to hear about her, just ask.

The Little Big Voice

Why are some people confident while others are indecisive and insecure? Why are some people respectful while others just can't seem to acknowledge the feelings of another? There are so many contributing factors that lead to our temperament and our reaction to our surroundings. Our genetics, our upbringing, our health, our attention span, our relationships.

Especially while our brain is developing. Everything around a child teaches that child about what life is, about how people treat each other, about what priorities we should have, and about what is wrong and what is right. We all have a little voice in our head. This voice was developed long, long ago.

More than once I have come across the statement that the way we speak to little children as they develop becomes the voice in their head. This totally makes sense. And makes me cringe at the old adage "children must be seen and not heard". Or the idea of "toughening them up". I see a resulting society full of angry, lonely, insecure adults. Our childhood is never an excuse to not achieve things, but it can sure make the process much more difficult. Especially when you realize how deep into our psych it goes.

My default is to worry about what people think and criticize myself for not doing better. I remember my mom offering suggestions for how I could do things better. "Good job. Next time..." Her intentions were for my growth. Like most parents. Our intention is to help our children be their best. But it is filtered through our stresses, altering the message delivery, and their underdeveloped cognition, altering the message perception.

I have kept this thought at the forefront of my mind when I am stressed or tired or mad at someone and it has nothing to do with my daughter. She reads my expression, my tone, my attention span, my time. No matter what excuse I have for how I am responding. She believes the world revolves around her. Everything is for her and because of her.

I want her to have good "default" thought processes. I want her to believe in herself. To tell herself to give it her best. To have patience with herself. To be able to forgive herself for her faults. To get back up when she falls. To believe she is loved.

Of course I will love her and support her and forgive her and believe in her. But how will she know that? She can't read my mind. I have to cheer for her. Listen to her. Embrace her. Be excited for her. Tell her I love her.

It shouldn't be difficult when she is so amazing. But I am human and will have to make that conscious decision day by day and moment by moment. When she's kept me up too much at night. When she's made me run late. When she's really loud or throws things. When my to do list is a mile long. When other people upset me. When I am stressed about money.

It isn't just her current mood or the making of a good or bad day for her. It is her future. Her life.

Go Mudder Girls!

Like many people all over the world
These obstacles we will conquer
Tough Mudder Whistler here we come
Oh, what the heck are we in for?

Full on training and finding muscles
We some how never felt before
Ice and massage and long hot baths
And carefully stretching what is sore

Get up early or stay up late
Prioritize the time to train
Increasing muscles and endurance
The saying is "no pain, no gain"

But oh, the joy when at the juncture
Of doing what we previously could not
The boost in confidence when we see
The strengthening we have so sought

Don't over do it--listen to your body
Tenacity that knows the limit
Don't compare yourself to anyone else
We will each individually "win" it

Get together and know your team
For each other we will loyally support
Push and cheer and give a helping hand
And don't let any comrade abort!

I think I can! I think I can!
I truly believe you can too
All of us will rejoice together
When we discover what we really can do

We will scale walls that tower above
Crawl through closed and cramped spaces
We will jump from heights and over trenches
And manoeuvre through muddy places

We will be one with biting snow and slush
And mud and dirt and rocks
We will experience nature like never before
It'll be in our ears and underwear and socks

And in that discomfort we will try
To traverse the unnerving monkey bars
Trying not to slip and fall
Oh my word, I think I see stars!

Use your balance, use your strength
Beams and logs to traverse
Over and under and swinging on rope
Which obstacle will be the worst?

Maybe the ice cold bath to cross
Will our limbs be able to function?
Or, possibly the ten thousand volts
Do these organisers have no compunction?

Can you do a pull up--lift up to your chin?
Can you run for a couple of miles?
Are you afraid of heights--can you jump?
Will your face be frowning or all smiles?

Keep up the good work, this'll be great
It will actually be so much fun
Some of us pray for a cool, breezy day
While others really need that sun

There are people think it's way too much macho
And they can't understand why we'd do it
Some think we are absolutely crazy
(Maybe we are but we won't regret it)

So glad to be doing this with you girls
So proud of each and every feat
Mind over matter and "Hoorah, hoorah"
We will soon have TOUGH MUDDER beat!

Dream Home

My husband is watching extreme homes. Well, not now as I started this blog forever ago and forgot to finish. Anyway, the one house was complete with a personal bowling lane and a high tech shooting range. The next house had a water slide into a beautiful pool surrounded by jungle. A little out of my league.

My dream home would not be to that extravagant level. I don't need a colossal abode. That would be more to clean anyway. More spots for clutter to fill. I don't want more than two toilets in my routine. Some of those homes have a shocking number of them! Like anyone, though, I have a list of things that I would love to included in our future home.

I would love a laundry room. Then my unfolded laundry that is still in the basket wouldn't be on display in our bedrooms. My partially folded laundry wouldn't sit out in the open, taunting me with its ever present reminder that I didn't fully execute the task. Again. I am sure some people do the laundry start to finish and end up with a completed chore. Me--not so much. Unfortunately, though, having its own room to let it amass may mean more frantic moments trying to locate a matching pair of socks while scrambling to finishing getting ready for work. Or pulling out a pair of pants and regrettably needing to steam out the wrinkles last minute.

In my ideal home this laundry room would be off the back door and contain a sink. Then, when my husband is fixing the vehicles or something else filthy and he comes in he can wash there. Without getting fingerprints on the front door. Without making the kitchen smell like heavy duty cleaner (I'd love for the kitchen counter and sink to be food prep only). Or without making a mess of the bathroom. I have issues there. (Issues? Me? Who would have guessed?) I like everything put away. I am annoyed that my husband likes his mouthwash and toothpaste and toothbrush out. But, he does use it daily so, sigh, there it can stay...

My second wish would be a guest room. Somewhere relatives could slumber when they come visit. My daughter does have enough room in her suite, complete with a bathroom and shower, but it must be shared with her large collection of books and stuffed animals (the bedroom, that is, not the shower). Separate guest accommodations would contain enough room for their luggage and bags. Somewhere private and tidy. Hopefully. It could end up as another place to store things. Then there would be the stress of temporarily relocating the conglomeration of stuff in order to welcome the visitors.

My third request would be a yard. Big enough to put a swing set. To play tag. To set up a tent and camp. To have a barbecue. To make snowmen. To maybe even build a playhouse. We have a playhouse on the front porch now. I love how my girl says "howse" while sticking her lips out in a pucker.

My daughter loves to be outside, as do I. The opportunity to easily exit for a few minutes or a few hours without packing up and going somewhere else would be marvelous. For now, we play in the street (car!!). We go to the park. We walk the dog or go for hikes. We head over to visit friends or relatives. We go for a bike ride. And soon we will go to the lake and go camping.

I don't really have much that I need. I want to move but I am actually more concerned about losing the things I love where we currently live. I am a little spoiled. I really appreciate having a dishwasher. It makes busy days and having company much easier. Though we'd probably keep track of our glasses better if we had to wash them by hand.

I am blessed to have a large bath tub. My daughter is basically playing in her little swimming pool every day. Before I had her I thought it was such a waste. Well, I still think it is but now it is being put to good use with an assortment of rubber duckies and boats and bath books. Her favorite activity is pouring water from one container to another. When her dad bathes her I think their favorite activity is to make a huge mess.

I love the vaulted ceilings and having two bathrooms and having all the doors protected by a covered deck (we can experience large amounts of snow here). I love having a built in book shelf off of the ground and farther away from little fingers. I love having a boot-room front entrance and a walk-in closet in my room. Someday we may relocate to something better but I won't know until then if everything will be suitable. Change is always good and bad. It always requires some adjustments.

So, I don't think I'll have a pool. I don't need a wine cellar. I have no use for a theatre room. Though a men's room would be great. His own tv spot where he could eat on the couch as much as he wants and lounge in smelly work clothes. And for me, a splurge would be a nice, cozy little reading nook with a roomy window to let in the sun. Not that it would change my reading habits. I can read anywhere. In the bath or bed. Lounging on the couch. Sitting on the step. Or down by the river.

Another blessing of my home. It isn't too far from the river and some beautiful trails with many spots where I love to read or stretch. My future home should have that accessibility as well. Oh, if we could have just what we want! Hmmm, I don't know how that works when there is more than one person involved. What would my husband want? That would be a whole different story.