Looks like I made it!

Woo hoo! I made it, I made it, I made it!!

I am going to try to post less frequently – obviously – but more quality. I bet we’d all be happier with that.

But now, Desperate Housewives is on, The Girl is in bed, Norman is by my side and there are brownies on the counter just begging for some ice-cream.

Thanks for sticking with me through the month, and I will talk to you again after a long time or a short time.

Truer words have never been said

Me: Honey, Grandma is going to start asking me what you want for Christmas. Is there anything you want?

The Girl: No.

Me: How about some clothes for Baby? (Her baby doll that never leaves her side.)

TG: No. Baby has enough clothes.

Me: How about more waffle blocks? I know you like to build with your waffle blocks. Then you could build something bigger.

TG: No, I have enough waffle blocks.

Me: How about …

TG (starting to get frustrated): No! I have enough things, daddy has enough things, momma has enough things, Baby has enough things and Macy has enough things. 

Yes we do, little girl, yes we do. 

If only she says this next year as well.

Where are you, Sunday?

Do you think I am more sick of posting every day than you are of reading every day? Maybe it’s a toss up. Although, if I can write drivel everyday, you’d think I could write something worth reading at least once a week, wouldn’t you? Maybe I’ll shoot for that … in 2009.

I absolutely cannot get my friend’s kid out of my head. I keep checking the CaringBridge site for updates. I feel like The Girl asking the same questions over and over. “Now how is he? How about now? Now? How is he now?”

He’s in a coma. There’s not much more to say. He’s stable. The family is hopeful. The doc is painting a “worse case scenario.”

I am obsessing.

So I am turning to you. Tell me something happy. Big, little, I don’t care. Share a link, a story, something, ANYTHING that has a happy ending, or a happy middle, or at least something to make me smile. Go.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I have nothing profound to say.  If I had more time, I would write how, despite some pretty awful things happening this year, I am still grateful for so much.

In the words of Garrison Keillor “[t]hank you, God, for this good life and forgive us if we do not love it enough.”

All my good thoughts to each of you.

Can you say “overkill?”

I am in charge of dessert for tomorrow. So far I have made chocolate pecan tartlets, mocha tartlets, and pumpkin tartlets. (I couldn’t decide which kind of pie, so I went with three kinds of tarts.)

Total number of people who will attend this dinner: FIVE.

Yes, I do know that I am crazy.

If you are feeling like you have so much you’d like to share …

Then read on. There are PRIZES!! There is HELPING OTHERS!! It’s time to share the love, people. If you are reading this from your nice warm house, or your nice warm office, then you just might have enough to share. Please consider the following and, if possible, mention it on your own blog too.

Here’s the story (as stolen from kelly rae):

(Esteria on the right. Photo by Jen Lemen; stolen from Kelly Rae)

“meet esteria. she is a genocide survivor, and mother to 11 children (all but four have died). she lives in a tiny village in rwanda, and she spends her days caring for two young grandchildren who have been orphaned by AIDS. she has a special place in jen’s life, not just because jen spent a lot of time with her during her trip to africa, but because she is odette’s mother (odette is also a genocide survivor living as a refugee in the states and is dear dear friend of jen’s). jen tells me esteria is strong. brave. and a testament to love.

esteria’s mud house (pictured above) has been in a serious state of disrepair since a rainstorm blew in the roof last november. and this year’s rainy season has almost completely demolished what’s left. bottom line: esteria and the two grandchildren she is caring for deserve a home that can withstand the rain. a home with a concrete foundation and a strong roof. a home that can not only safely house their family, but one that can house their hopes, dreams, and future.

with the right funds and labor, she can have this new home very, very quickly. i believe that if we all donate just $5 (or more if you’d like), then we can do something extraordinary: we can give this family a home that was not only built with open hearts, but with open hands that held a hope so wide it made one woman’s dream of a safe home in africa come true.

please donate. i am giving away a 11×14 painting that i made in italy to one lucky person who donates any amount(i don’t have a photo of the painting as it’s currently packed away in a box, but i assure you it’s a beauty and my favorite from all of my italy creations). after you donate, please come back here and leave a comment. i will announce the winner next week. please only leave a comment if you’ve donated. thank you, thank you, thank you. as i begin this thanksgiving week, my heart is huge with a hope that we can do this…you + me. i know this will touch lives in ways we could have never imagined….”

You can go back here to donate.

What say you one, what say you all?

Norman was with me in NoDak. I didn’t mention this earlier because I wanted you to picture him at home, guarding our house, with a gun perhaps.

Anyway, he was with me, and he was deer hunting.

Most of the time he was hunting at my niece’s farm, but now and then he would walk around at my parents’ farm, where we were staying. When he would go over to my niece’s he would usually drive my dad’s 1977 Ford pick up.

The last day we were there Norman went out hunting right around my parents’ farm, and happened to get a deer. He went to get the pick-up, but as it had been a bit cold, the pick-up didn’t start.

So there was Norman with a dilemma: a dead deer in need of transportation, and a pick-up that wouldn’t start. And do you know what his solution was?

He put the dead deer IN.THE.BACK.OF.MY.HONDA!!!!!1

The car that I DRIVE. The car with the care seat where I carry MY BABY. The car where I haul all the groceries that MY FAMILY EATS. This car carried a dead dear that could have been carring what? Lice? Ticks? Cooties?

As such, I feel the man needs to be punished. I was thinking that something including back rubs and chocolates, but I am not sure. So what say you, internets, what do you think is the approperiate punishment for placing a dead carcus in my car?

I await your responce.

What the?

I came home all happy. It was great to be home, great to see Norman at the airport, great to have dinner together as our little family, great to see The Girl run around naked – her favorite activity that has been denied her this past week.

I sat down ready to post something witty, when I thought I would check my e-mail first. That’s where my great mood left me.

Last year a friend of mine lost her mother quite unexpectedly, less then a year later she lost her dad. Actually, her dad died within two weeks of my dad dying, so kind of went through that together. I just got word that her 11 year old son was injured in an accident and is in a coma.

Things do not look good.

I am devastated. How can so many bad things happen to one family in such a short amount of time? I think of anything happening to The Girl and I just feel sick. I cannot imagine what she is going through.

If you believe in anything, send some prayers their way tonight. Good thoughts and wishes are also welcome.

And if you have kids, give them an extra squeeze tonight.

And if you are lucky enough to be able to, call your mother … or your dad … or both.

A quickie …

No, not that kind. This is the kind where I am at my niece’s, who has DIAL UP, doesn’t even know that I blog, and is about 12 feet from me right now.

But the good thing is that I have fulfilled my NaBloPoMo obligations.

And I am full of good food and good wine and a warm bed awaits.

Good night all, more from MI in apx 24 hours.

Time. Isn’t it always about the time.

It’s frustrating to actually want to write a decent post, instead of the drivel I usually write, and just not have the time. There are so many things I want to share about my dad, about his last days, his funeral, my family. But these aren’t posts that can be written between filling a sippy cup and putting a load of laundry in the washer.

I need time. I need serious writing time.

There are a million bloggers out there with kids, with an “s”, as in “more than one.” They seem to write frequent witty, entertaining or at least informative posts if not daily, then many times a week. Why can’t I seem to do that?

I think the whole world is a better time manager than I am. I don’t understand how that happened. On the other hand, I have a feeling that on my death bed I will not wish I would have written more posts. I guess everything has its trade offs, huh?