A Late Night...

10:42 pm. Now, granted, this is not what many would call "late." My husband would though as he is typically asleep around 9pm. He's an early riser, so I can't blame him. I, on the other hand, could stay up into the wee hours. This is my quiet time. My time to reflect on my day, get in touch with my thoughts, and evaluate things. Sometimes that involves simply getting into my pj's, grabbing some water, and watching the news. Other times it is sitting here in front of the computer, emptying my mind of all the things that are weighing on my mind. Which reminds me -

SW Wisconsin has received more rain than they can handle over the past few weeks. Massive flooding has destroyed a lot of that area, and people are being left homeless. When we see coverage of these kinds of disasters on the news, we react with shock, sadness, even relief that it wasn't our home, family, or friends that were affected. I can admit to that when Hurricane Katrina devastated Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. This time though, it is a little different. A dear friend of mine, Theresa, is from SW Wisconsin. Her parents and her brother still live there. At least they did...until the floods destroyed their homes and they lost everything they had. Only the four corners of their foundations remained intact. The rest of what was left of the houses has washed away and the only hope to rebuild is if they do so eight feet higher than they initially were. These families have to start again after a generation of living in the same place. They are forced to find a new place to live, a new way of living, and all in a short period of time. Many at our church have offered to to go and help with the clean up efforts, but we were told Sunday that the homes have been condemned. The only efforts that will be allowed are those to scrape away the debris and allow the residents to begin again. That is if they are willing and able to do so.

I ask this of my faithful friends, please keep Theresa's family in your prayers.

May God watch over them during this difficult time, and may His gentle hand work this for the good of all.

Amen.

Click here for examples of the damage: http://sevenels.net/flood/07flood.html

60th Wedding Anniversary

George and Lorayne Votrobeck will note their 60th wedding anniversary with a family dinner and a card shower hosted by their children. The former Lorayne Nebendahl and George Votrobeck exchanged marriage vows on Aug. 25, 1947, at the Little Brown Church in Nashua, Iowa. The couple’s children and spouses are Richard and Barb Votrobeck, Brenda and Terry Kerr, Robert and Mary Jo Votrobeck, Ronald and Maxine Votrobeck and Bonnie and Jim Biddle. They have 16 grandchildren and 20 great-grandchildren.

WOW! I can't describe the feeling of celebrating this special day with Grandma and Grandpa George. It seems like eons since I first joined their family. One would say that we are born into our families, we don't join them. Well, not so with me and the Votrobecks. Shall I explain?

Mom and my dad divorced when I was very young. Five, I believe. Mom met Bob Votrobeck soon after, and they hit it off immediately. Bob feel in love with all 4'10" of my mother's beautiful, blue-eyed self, and not long after, she brought him home to meet us (my brother, Jason and I). He seemed ok. Young, maybe a little wild and crazy, but fun. It was obvious that Mom and Bob were in love. They were married 18 months after meeting. We have called him "Dad" ever since. When we met Grandma and Grandpa "George," we were told that their names were George and Lorayne. That is what we called them - at first. But Grandpa had other plans. "You can call us Grandma and Grandpa George," he told me. I was afraid of him at first. To my 6 year old eyes he was massive. The tallest man I had ever seen in my life! He had HUGE hands that swallowed up my own. You see, Grandpa was a farmer. I remember looking into his face, and seeing the kindest, twinklingest eyes, and I remember feeling so welcome on his lap and in his big hugs. Grandpa is of course, older now, but his eyes are still the kindest and twinklingest, and I still feel welcome wrapped in one of his big bear hugs.

Then there was Grandma. I loved her hair. It was so curly and fun. She always had a big smile, a contagious laugh, and was the best cook in the entire world! I still feel that way about her. I love everything about Grandma. I have since the day we met.

You see, Jason and I were never the "step" grandchildren. We were simply accepted into their family. We were (and are) their grandchildren, just like the rest.

I'm proud to be part of those 16 grandkids, and I'm happy that my kids are members of the 20 great-grandkids.

Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa George for welcoming us into your wondeful family. Happy 60th Wedding Anniversary.

Love, Cara Jo

The Challenge

Quick! Someone please tell me that there is something more challenging than raising a 13 year-old boy! How is it that one minute they can be just a larger version of that lovable toddler and then the next, they can be so abominable you want to run as far away from them as possible? I will never understand it; and for good reason. After all, I am certainly not a boy and I cannot fathom what he is going through as a boy. I can't use the, "Oh, Honey. I know how you feel..." thing. Because I don't. I can only ensure that there is at least 3 feet of space between us at any given moment in case he spontaneously combusts.

How hard it must be to live with the male brain. This is not a male-bashing blog. This is simply an observation. No matter who they are. No matter their age or their intellectual level, men have issues with listening and memory. Most of the time the two go hand in hand. The first, listening...Tonight we were sitting in a local gourmet pizza place (just an excuse to charge more for crust, sauce and cheese). Tyler sat to my right. While perusing the menu, he insisted that he could eat a whole 12" pizza on his own. Deciding to pick my battles, I caved. He did pretty good. We were talking about our plans for the weekend. He wants to roam the mall with his friends, and I calmly explained that there are responsibilities at home he must tend to first. Keep in mind, that I do not expect anything out of my kids except that they keep their spaces picked up; void of empty milk glasses, dirty socks, and banana peels. Clean clothes should be put away. When there is no more room in the dresser, its time to organize and take a load to Goodwill. That is the plan for tomorrow. A compromise is reached - "Mom, if you let me go to Billy's tonight, I will get all my chores done in the morning and then go to the mall." I feel that's a fair trade, as I have lawn mowing to add to his list as well. I drop him off at Billy's and go home to do homework and catch up on my blog. The understanding is that he will be home at 10pm, and that he will get a ride from Billy's mom or dad. Well...It is now 11:10pm. I have just gotten off the phone with my son who told me that he was playing video games, lost track of time, and Billy's parents are asleep. Hmmm. It doesn't seem like he kept up his end of the bargain. I think consequences are in order. Perhaps a Saturday of helping me around the house is in order. It has to be done anyway. According to him, that is unreasonable.
Here is where listening and memory kick in - he remembered us speaking about our arrangement, but didn't hear the part about getting home on time. I call it "Male Pattern Selective Deafness," or MPSD for short. I'm sure that it afflicts about 99.9% of the male population of the United States. I'm not sure about other countries, as I have never been out of this one (does Canada count?).

I told my precious baby boy to come home. His response was, "Yeah right. Its DARK." Well, yes it is. Its the middle of the night. One would expect it to be dark. I took him there, it was his responsibility to get a ride home. He blew it. Am I wrong not to go and pick him up? We do not live in an area of high crime. I'm not terribly worried that he wouldn't make it home unscathed. At least I wasn't worried about it until I just reread that last sentence. I imagine that once I end this tirade, I will take my pajama clothed body outside, into my minivan, and pick him up along the road like a lost puppy. I can only hope that he has had his shots.

After all, his bite is definitely worse than his bark.

First Day of School 2007

Holy preps and skaters, Batman! My children have descended on the halls of middle school! Mac in her first year - as a 6th grader, and Tyler in his last - as an 8th grader. When did they decide to just grow up? When did they decide to join the drama that is adolescence? Turmoil and acne. Love and hate. To be or not to be -- you get the picture.

OK, I am being way too dramatic myself here. Tyler is in fact, in his last year of middle school, but in a way he is getting a taste of what high school is going to be like. He had homework the very first day. He likes his teachers, but there is a zero tolerance on late work. This is all going to be new for him. As long as he stays organized, he'll do just fine. He has already made one very grown up decision - forgoing football for mock-trial. Talk about the difference between day and night, snow and sun, etc! He has never been interested in athletics as a rule. He has always gravitated toward more, shall we say, intellectual pastimes. Not to say that athletes can't be intellectuals - it just isn't obvious to the whole world. Tyler has already participated in mock-trial for the last 2 years. He really enjoyed it and he did very well. Of course, there is also music. It's the 2nd day of school and he has already been awarded a solo in vocal class. Man-oh-man. Way to go, Buddy!

As for MacKenzie...her brother says that Mac is a "prep," (whatever that is) and if she doesn't stop it, he is going to have to "beat her up" a little. Like THAT is going to happen! I don't think so! Actually, the first day of school, Tyler defended her to another kid in the hallway. I guess no one can be mean to her except for him. Anyway, she is already fitting in just fine. I knew she would. She is still trying to find her place in the world, and she has plenty of time to do it. She is in the school show choir already, she is taking vocal, and she is finding that she likes most of her classes. She has a computer science class and isn't crazy about that teacher, but I told her to just be her normal, obedient, well behaved, self and she will do just fine. Next week - Mac gets braces. That will be fodder for a new entry I imagine.

I have also decided that I am officially losing my mind. I am relatively sure that I was told last Sunday that this Wednesday was the first night of choir practice at church. I showed up promptly at 7:00, waited till about 7:15 and when no one showed up, I headed back home. I sent an email to the director in hopes that everyone came down with some mysterious illness, so that I don't look like I'm some over-eager diva. Actually, I'm sure that I'll get over it. I'm never early for ANYTHING so, this should earn me a few laughs anyway.

Yesterday was MY first day of school too. I'm taking a Composition class geared toward business writing. It is sure to be a hoot, as there are 3 of my co-workers in the class, and the instructor has already cracked me up a few times. He is a very interesting person with a healthy sense of humor, dry, but well developed, and an obvious gift for the dramatic. He told us all to get to know our thesauruses this semester. I guess I'll have to make a "Word of the Week" list and try out a new one every now and then. I'll keep you posted.

Good night.

Mom vs. Tax-Free Holiday

This is the weekend where the government (can't remember if its all across the country or just here) that we don't have to pay sales tax on our clothing items. The purpose of this "holiday" is so that people will do their kids' school clothes shopping and give retailers a big kick in the bottom line so that they don't have to wait until the busy Christmas shopping season. I see it as a scam. They get you in with the thought of saving a ton of cash in sales tax. That is what I don't get -- how can one SAVE money when they are SPENDING it? It is leaving your hand, therefore it is not being saved, it is being spent. Hello! How difficult a concept is this??

Scam though it may be, I was there right alongside the other mom's trying to SPEND a little LESS money than we normally would. I took Tyler first. Now, Tyler being 13 one would think that he is pretty difficult to please. Actually, he is pretty easy. He knows what he likes, has really good taste, and is good about helping me not spend so much. He finds good bargains. However, he likes to shock me. He comes from around a rack of 8.99 t-shirts with one that is brown and on the front in bold, white letters, its says "I don't give a..." (picture of a rat) (picture of a donkey). You figure it out. He begged and begged for it. I told him he can't wear it to school. He said he could. I caved. He ended up finding something he liked better, I made him leave the rat/donkey shirt. Mom -1. An hour later, we left the store with 3 pairs of jeans, a pair of shoes, and 4 shirts. I was $175 poorer.
Then, I went home, picked up MacKenzie and we were off. We went to the same store with the same though in mind...Not spending too much but finding a good deal.
Now, someone please explain to me why clothes for girls/women are twice as much as they are for boys/men? T-shirts all come from the same damn cotton plant. They are dyed the same way. They have the same brand names. Yet, one for Mac is going to cost me $12.99 and for Tyler its $8.99. What the hell? MacKenzie left with one pair of jeans, 3 shirts, a bra, and 4 pairs of underwear for the same amount of money I spent on Tyler. We picked up 2 pairs of shoes for another $100 and I had simply had enough!
Don't get me wrong, I love shopping for my kids. I love it. They are growing so fast. Mac and I now wear the same size shoes which is nice for me since she has cool shoes! But I tell ya, this inequality related to the cost of clothes depending on your sex is ridiculous! It makes a woman or a girl start shopping in the men's department just to save a buck! Hell, at this rate, we are going to end up raising a generation of cross dressers! Maybe that is the key! You know those emails that we get all the time about not buying gas to drive prices lower? We could do the same thing with clothing! I'll send out an email to my entire address book suggesting that we all shop in the men's department only. Maybe if everybody does it for about 5 years, it will knock the price of a pair of flip-flops down 50 cents! Nah - never mind. I have more important things to worry about -

Like the super glue holding the straps of my purse together.

School Supplies & Cat Pee

One would ask, "What in the world do school supplies and cat pee have in common?" Well...nothing. I just thought it was a catchy title. Actually, they have everything in common considering the day I have had.

It actually started yesterday - this feeling of dread and disappointment. I bring it all on myself, naturally, but wait - I'm getting ahead of myself. Yesterday, my dryer died. I mean it completely bit the dust. I had a load of towels in there drying and although the stupid thing had been making a little noise over the last few weeks, I didn't think it was too big a deal. But then, it really started to clang, and the smell of burning tires filled the small space that it is my laundry room, and I knew - I just knew - that the belt had broken. It shut itself down and I had a few choice phrases pass my lips, the general drill when I'm upset. I began thinking about the trip to Boston that Mac and I were going to take and how I would likely have to cancel that now that I would probably have to buy another dryer. I was thinking that there was no way in hell that I would call Sears for help -sorry to all the Sears fans out there, but Lord have mercy on you if one of their appliances break and you have to have them come out -- that's a long story. I was thinking that this just couldn't have come at a worse time -- when I had piles of unwashed laundry sitting there ready to be done.
There I am, feeling utterly sorry for myself, my anxiety, depression and ADD all coming to one large disgusting head, but I had to do something! I called my mother. Yes, that woman who gave me life, has seen me through every bump and bruise, who has taught me that it is much better to laugh than cry when given the choice, and the one I could count on to tell me to just suck it up! Besides, I had to use her dryer, otherwise, I would have to stand in front of the air conditioner vent tomorrow after my shower to dry off.
We went out to my parents' place. I was in a sour mood - after all life as I had come to know it was coming to an end - I threw in the load of towels and proceeded to tell my mother my sad story. She was weeding her flowers, and told me that I would probably just have to call Sears if I couldn't find anybody else. In her own way, she was just telling me to - you guessed it - Suck it up! We were there till about 10pm waiting for the stuff to dry. Then my dad - dear Daddy - offers to come and "tear it apart to see what is wrong with it." I'm thinking, "Oh God, please make him take it back!" Visions of him taking it apart and then leaving it in pieces on my laundry room floor shot through my mind. Larry told him to feel free - that was it. The end of my sanity. In silence, we drove home, I took an Ambien and went to sleep.

This morning, I went to work, pulled through the day feeling hungover (unfortunately, unless I get at least 10 hours of sleep the Ambien makes me feel groggy), and dreaded coming home to heaven knows what in my laundry room. I walked through the kitchen door, and the first thing I noticed was a strong smell of Pine-Sol. I love that stuff. Covers up a multitude of sins. Anyway, I knew that the kids were downstairs working on cleaning up my laundry room area of the basement (bribing them with cash works every time). Sure enough, they were down there, and although they weren't done, they had done a good job so far. Dad hadn't been there yet. And then I smelled it -- the distinct and stinky odor of cat pee. I wondered how that could be when I had just cleaned Potter's (our cat) litter box. It wasn't like that though. It was pungent, old smelling, like it had been there awhile. I asked the kids if they knew where it was coming from. Well, evidently, at some point, Potter left little spots around the laundry room. It is a concrete floor, but there were things sitting on it. I found a pile of clothes ready to go to Goodwill that will now likely have to be burned as no manner of washing is going to take that stench out of them -- anyway, you get the picture. Once we get that area all cleaned out, its getting a good scrubbing with Clorox -- that will kill ANYTHING!

Then, Dad gets here. I was napping - a good ol' power nap. I seem to need one of them just about everyday when I get home. I woke after about an hour and Larry said that the dryer was FIXED! I couldn't believe it. I was stunned. I was elated. I was...(fill in the blank)! He turned it on with a flourish to demonstrate and he reminded me of one of those odd ducks from the home shopping channel. It ran, and not only did it run, but it ran quietly and efficiently. I asked Larry what was wrong with it, and he said that it was simply full of lint and the lint got hot. Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that you are supposed to take the front off the stupid thing once in awhile and clean it out around the drum? Hell, I thought cleaning out the little lint catcher was good enough!! Drama complete.

Well, not quite. With the dryer working, and clothes being washed and dried, I was working on cleaning the laundry room some more. Tyler had choir practice tonight and Larry was going to take him, leaving me and Mac to fend for ourselves. Fine by me. I was in the middle of separating garbage from recyclables when MacKenzie comes down and says, "Mom can we go and get school supplies?" Ah, school supplies. Remember when you were a kid and your mom would take you to get your school stuff, and then when you got home you would spread it all out on the living room floor and marvel at the assortment of colors, textures, and smells? You don't? Well, I do. Mom came with us and we wandered the aisles at Target and I still marvel at the colors, the textures, the smells, and the fact that I can get 10 spiral notebooks for $1 just floors me! I bought enough for Mac, Tyler, me and still have enough to start my own small Office Max here at home. I'll have to go back out tomorrow and get some stuff for Tyler and pick up the rest of Mac's. Target's selection is a little limited.

Now, its 10:11pm according to the atomic clock of Boulder, Colorado. I'm tired. The smell of cat pee and Bounce dryer sheets lingers in my nose. I think I'll shower before bed tonight.

Meow.