Sometimes it's just cool to be a mom

So... my little Bubba came in the house tonight and said, "Mom, can I tell you the truth about something?"

I am bracing myself for the "Don't be mad, but I broke blah-blah-blah on accident" line when he says...

"It's just cool to be a boy, Mom." And goes back out to the treehouse with the 4 or 5 other boys who were climbin up and down the ladder and shootin' each other with Nerf guns.

I love boys!

My Love, My Boys, and a Treehouse

When I met my husband he was 48. He had no children and hadn't really planned to have any. But we fell in love and he knew that I was a package deal. None of my boys have any contact with their biological counterparts. It's "inconvenient" for my ex to have a relationship with his sons. Bubba was an unexpected blessing; unfortunately his other half has never really viewed him that way. So essentially, none of them had fathers, just chromosome donors. (I do get some financial support from my ex for the boys, but he would even like to stop that if he could.)

When My Love and I married, he had just turned 50; I was 32. He is such a gift from God to me and my children. Anyone who knows him, knows that he doesn't do things halfway. He has approached his fatherhood in the same fashion he does everything else. All or nothing.

Whether he planned to be a Dad or not, he's very good at it.

Last week was spring break for the boys. I still had classes MWF, so My Love spent most of the week with the boys working on a project. Did I mention My Love is a carpenter?

We have 3 pine trees in our little backyard, set in the back corner in a triangle. He "helped" the boys build an awesome treehouse. Well, a 3-tree-house actually. The first step was a platform.

Next came the walls. They built them on the ground and hefted them up.
Once up, the side walls were nailed in place.
The end walls were built up on the platform.

The door is a trapdoor in the floor.

The windows are similar, cut out of the walls and hinged down.

And then everybody helped paint.

We've even had our first official treehouse injury when Monkey Boy didn't realize that The Thinker hadn't closed the door after he left and he stepped in it and almost fell out of the treehouse and 8' to the ground.

He caught himself and was fine after a couple days of sore ribs and a lesson in "Watch Where You Walk" and "Respect for the Treehouse." It has antibiotic goop on it, so it looks worse than it is. He was pretty bruised though. And very, very lucky.

I realized that I don't have a picture of the finished product, with the roof and everything. I'll have to add that later. The permanent ladder still needs to be installed.... but it's pretty cool!

And God Is So Good, He's So Good To Me!

The Skinnies

My family battles the bulge, as I know many people do. I have to give snaps to my mom and my sister who are winning the fight. In the last couple years, they have divested themselves of the equivalent of an entire small person (about 130 pounds between the two of them, I think). For those of you who haven't seen them in awhile, it's pretty remarkable. My Sis is down 6-7 dress sizes and Mom is down 3-4. I made Mom tuck in her shirt, becuase it was too big. She said, "So are the pants that's why it's untucked." Way to go Mom!

I'm incredibly proud of them and incredibly jealous at the same time.

My Corner

My dear friend who gave me the words for "taking care of my corner" needs prayer.

Her husband (who is also my Bubba's guitar inspiration) was just diagnosed with stage 2 prostate cancer. He has a bone scan sceduled for Friday to see if it has spread to his pelvic bone. They will then play the waiting game until after Easter to get the results; after that, they decide on a treatment plan.

Please pray for them. They are the Music Makers.

The Lonely Goat

While looking for something entirely different about Julie Andrews on YouTube, I ran across this snippet of "The Lonely Goat" song. It always been my favorite song from The Sound of Music, but I have never seen this version.




Hope it brings you a few Monday Morning chuckles.

Dumb Dog

I love my dog. He was my wedding gift from my husband; a very unexpected gift because My Love always said he liked dogs but "not in the house." Our pup is definitely an in-the-house dog. He's 2 1/2 years old now and thoroughly part of the family.

He started limping a couple months back and we didn't think much of it. It had happened once before and got better, like he had pulled a muscle or something. You see, he's a beagle. Beagles are not big dogs, but he doesn't know that. He runs and chases and plays just like he was a big dog.

Well, the limp didn't get better and he was overdue for a distemper vaccine, so I took him in to the vet. (The good chic vet, the one that I like. Not the other guy we saw last time that is just Ok.) My dumb dog has gone and torn a cruciate ligament in his knee. The first limp was probably a partial tear, but he did a better job the next time and completely tore it. It's not getting better because ligaments don't have their own blood supply, so they don't heal by themselves.

Now, I love my dog. I do. And him having a bum knee, watching him limp, makes me very, very, very sad. But... he's not my child, he's a dog.

If he was my child, of course, I would pay the $1100 to have his knee surgically repaired. Ms. Vet said it's not a question of "if" he'll get arthritis in the knee, but when and how much - even with surgery. And the surgery is not a permanent fix. It's basically a figure-8 suture that holds things together internally, with the hope that by the time it breaks, enough scar tissue has built up to mostly stabilize the knee. We put him on a doggie anti-inflammatory and joint complex to hopefully decrease the inflammation and minimize his symptoms/discomfort.

So I am coming to grips with the fact that my pup wil probably have a much shorter life than I would like. Beagles usually live 12-15 years if they are kept healthy and trim. He still likes to exercise, but he heavily favors his bad leg after even short walks - a couple square blocks. He loves to run (which now hurts him), but he doesn't like to swim (which would be the easiest on him) so keeping him trim is going to be a challenge. He eats anything and everything he can get his little chops into. If he gets overweight, the joint problems will just get worse. My poor puppy.

Dumb Dog.

Randomness...

Since my brain is fairly scattered today, but I feel guilty about not posting in over a week, you get my scatterbrained-randomness.

I have a biochemistry midterm on Friday that I have absolutely no motivation to study for. Biochemistry is really quite fascinating and I wish that I put more time in and absorbed more of it rather than just getting through the tests. At this point, I am far enough behind in reading and junk that it feels overwhelming to even attempt it.

By the way, H, I lied. It is aspartame (NutraSweet) that may form formaldehyde in the brain, not sucralose (Splenda). Sucralose "may be partially metabolized into toxic substances," but they are not really sure. The good news is that only 11-27% of ingested sucralose is absorbed and the rest is "excreted unchanged." Woo.Hoo. The stevia was quite good in my yogurt; I added another packet.

Frozen fruit is one of my new kitchen staples. Especially sliced peaches, and strawberries from Cosco.

Although I have never practiced the whole "Lent" and "give something up for Lent" thing, I do agree with the concept of sacrificing something to focus more on God.

Vacation Bible School is fast approaching, and as the coordinator, I am starting to think, plan, and pray. This year is "God's Campground" and it is about the Isrealites in the wilderness and being good stewards of what God gives us. Should be fun.

Bubba is taking guitar lessons and really seems to have a gift for it, especially for his age. But we have hit a practicing desert and need to jump start it before My Love has a k'niption fit and cancels his lessons. Wish me luck.

This Friday, The Black Pearl is weighing anchor here in the Sea of Boys for Monkey Boy's birthday party... pardon me.... Pirate's Revelry. Pray for patience and long suffering for the chief galley slave and deck hand.

I love to tie-dye and have decided to make a tie-dye bedsprerad for Bubba's room and then paint the walls one of the colors from the blanket. I had high-hopes to get it done this week, but realistically, it will probably be May.

Monkey Boy's room will be next. Then the living room. Followed by the kitchen, Bigfoot and The Thinker's rooms, and maybe by the time I retire, my room. I have grand thoughts, but have a hard enough time just keeping up with the usual household stuff to get to the extras. I did get the bathroom done the first summer we were in the house; it was a not-nice yellow and HAD to go. Wish me luck!