Being out on the gravel roads we seem to get more nails in our tires than we ever have before. I think in the past year we have had about 8 flat tires as a result of 8 separate nails. Unfortunately, we do not have a Les Schwab nearby (oh, how I miss those guys!) and each "fix" costs roughly $12. Small, yes, but aggravating nonetheless.
This Monday, Phil noticed we had yet another flat tire in front. A result of a slow leak, he explained. One he could drive on when pumped up, but that would flatten over the course of a workday. As a side note, we have also been planning to buy new tires soon, as our tires are getting a little bald (which is a nice way of saying that we slide, rather than drive places- just kidding, dads). We thought, hey, instead of fixing the tire this time, lets buy TWO new tires, and then next month we can purchase the other two tires.
Great. Way to think ahead before they just blow up or become dangerous. Good job, us!
So I take Phil to work on Tuesday and head into a little tire store in a town about 40 minutes away (the closest "major" town). The mechanic walks out to the car with me and I explain that I would like to replace the front two tires, and that also, I need an oil change.
No problem, he ensures me, and sets straight to work. Fifteen minutes later he comes in and asks if I needed a light replaced, because I had extra bulbs sitting on the dashboard. By golly, I did, actually- TWO of them. "No problem," he says, we will just go ahead and do that for you.
At this point, this guy has been very friendly and helpful. I sit and wait, and at one point the lady at the front desk asks me if I am just getting two new tires. "That, and an oil change...". She gives me a concerned look and heads through the door to "check on their progress."
Upon her return, she explains that he is rotating the tires, and taking extra time to clean the rims and all of the places where dirt can build up.
*Sigh* I love small town mechanics.
I leave there, after having been charged only for my new tires and the oil change, a happy customer. Also, I am quite pleased with the fact that we have four well-working tires, a new oil change, and working lights all around.
When I get home, I excitedly tell Phil about the wonderful mechanic and all he did for our vehicle.
The next morning, as he is about to leave, he notices that the back tire is flat.
And through deduction I realize that I did not tell this friendly mechanic that I had a leak in one of the tires, only that I needed two new front ones. So, he just rotated the two old front ones to the back and put new ones on the front.
Ha. Kind of funny. Except not that funny. Because we still have to find a way to fix the flat tire.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Why I Need Lists
To further illustrate the vast chasm between my sister's preparedness and my own lack of it:
On the phone:
Kristina:I almost posted in the comments of your blog that my hospital bag has:
15 diapers, but half are newborn and half are size one diapers.
Three pacifiers with little holders to clip on her clothes.
Three changes of clothes.
A toy. I know she won't need it, but its there anyway. Just in case.
Tracy: (Laughing) And you know what is awful? Even though I have already been to the hospital and even though I wrote that post, I still have nothing packed.
Kristina: I also have three copies of the list of people who need to be notified and when (like, when I am admitted, updates, and when she's born).
Tracy: Don't you have a cell phone?
Kristina: BUT what if the cell phones can't be used? Or what if I don't have the wherewithal to tell someone who needs to be called? A paper copy would then be necessary. It suggested doing it in "the book".
Tracy: Ha- those books were made for people like you!
Kristina: No, they were made for people like you. People like me think of these things.
On the phone:
Kristina:I almost posted in the comments of your blog that my hospital bag has:
15 diapers, but half are newborn and half are size one diapers.
Three pacifiers with little holders to clip on her clothes.
Three changes of clothes.
A toy. I know she won't need it, but its there anyway. Just in case.
Tracy: (Laughing) And you know what is awful? Even though I have already been to the hospital and even though I wrote that post, I still have nothing packed.
Kristina: I also have three copies of the list of people who need to be notified and when (like, when I am admitted, updates, and when she's born).
Tracy: Don't you have a cell phone?
Kristina: BUT what if the cell phones can't be used? Or what if I don't have the wherewithal to tell someone who needs to be called? A paper copy would then be necessary. It suggested doing it in "the book".
Tracy: Ha- those books were made for people like you!
Kristina: No, they were made for people like you. People like me think of these things.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
My little guy
It is so very hard in the middle of 80-90 degree days to recall what the middle of winter is like. For this I am both thankful and fearful. Thankful because the respite from bitter cold is necessary for my sanity, and fearful that in this lack of continual (or even occasional) reminder we will fail to do necessary things to our house to prepare for next winter. Things like stacking up wood and sealing all of the windows and replacing a few storm windows.
I now understand why people say the worst part about heat is the humidity. I used to nod my head and go along with this, but when we had four days of "high humidity" 85 degree weather last week, I really questioned whether or not the middle of summer could be much worse. And then, these past few days, people have been saying that this humidity has lifted. The temperatures are just as warm, but they are pleasant, agreeable temperatures. The light breeze is nice and beckons me outside. I don't feel like I continually need a shower while at the same time dreading the idea of more moisture on my body. We have had one day of rain in the past few weeks- this last Monday. Our weeks have been filled with beautiful days that call me outside to the garden or the shade.
Ryan loves being outside to the point when he wakes up it's the first thing he mentions. "Hi mommy. Outside. Rake. Chickens. Sheepie food."
"Ryan, should we eat breakfast first? Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, hungie. Outside food."
As a result, he has become an excessively dirty boy since this weather has ensued.
At the same time, he has reached a stage where he hates to be cleaned. The very site of a wet wipe will send him, arms directed strait down (so you can't grab them), hunched over, running from the room. With a quick "goodbye". He will inform me from the other room that he is going to "play with toys." That was my plan all along, mama. See how nicely and quietly I can play all by myself? This same maneuver is used prior to nap or bedtime. Want to change a dirty diaper? "No no, workin'!" I wonder if we have maybe overused this excuse of "working" with him. It seems to be quite universal.
I now understand why people say the worst part about heat is the humidity. I used to nod my head and go along with this, but when we had four days of "high humidity" 85 degree weather last week, I really questioned whether or not the middle of summer could be much worse. And then, these past few days, people have been saying that this humidity has lifted. The temperatures are just as warm, but they are pleasant, agreeable temperatures. The light breeze is nice and beckons me outside. I don't feel like I continually need a shower while at the same time dreading the idea of more moisture on my body. We have had one day of rain in the past few weeks- this last Monday. Our weeks have been filled with beautiful days that call me outside to the garden or the shade.
Ryan loves being outside to the point when he wakes up it's the first thing he mentions. "Hi mommy. Outside. Rake. Chickens. Sheepie food."
"Ryan, should we eat breakfast first? Are you hungry?"
"Yeah, hungie. Outside food."
As a result, he has become an excessively dirty boy since this weather has ensued.
At the same time, he has reached a stage where he hates to be cleaned. The very site of a wet wipe will send him, arms directed strait down (so you can't grab them), hunched over, running from the room. With a quick "goodbye". He will inform me from the other room that he is going to "play with toys." That was my plan all along, mama. See how nicely and quietly I can play all by myself? This same maneuver is used prior to nap or bedtime. Want to change a dirty diaper? "No no, workin'!" I wonder if we have maybe overused this excuse of "working" with him. It seems to be quite universal.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Focus
The evening sun is setting and we are enjoying some mamma-son time in the garden. I am sitting and pulling a few weeds from in between the onions, and Ryan is squatted next to a pepper plant a few yards away piling handfuls of fresh dirt on top of wet soil.
One of the fun (and irritating) parts about being a mom are the rhymes and songs that get stuck in your head. Not up-to-date songs, but Veggie Tales tunes and story book rhymes. Why are they always so catchy?
Just as we are quietly working, one of these such rhymes comes into my head. I break the silence:
"Skit-skat skoodle doot flip flop flee! Everybody running to the coconut tree!"
Ryan looks up from his work and sternly says "NO! Workin'!" He promptly puts his head back down to attend to his task, handful by handful carefully placing tiny mounds of dirt around this plant.
I'm thinking, "he likes this book...we read it all the time. Surely he can't mean stop talking about this book...maybe it was something else I was doing."
So I try it again "Mamma's and pappas and uncles and aunts hug their little dears then dust their pants!"
"NO! Please Stop it! Workin!"
"Sorry, Ryan," I say, holding back a smirk because he appears so offended. THAT is dedication for you. Apparently there must be no distractions while gardening. You would think he was building a bonsai sanctuary.
------------------------------
On another note, me and tiny baby are doing fine. I have had more help than I deserve out here- dinners and lunches and friends taking turns watching Ryan for me. Phil took a few days off of work to help me get some rest, too. My mom is planning on coming out next Wednesday for a few weeks, and then my mom-in-law is coming. I can't believe all of the help- it makes me feel so relieved and thankful.
I have not had to take any medication for contractions for the past three days, and while I still have to take it very easy, I am learning my limits a bit more. I head to the doctor tomorrow so we will see if anything has changed. For now, I praise God for keeping baby safe and the help he has brought me; for family and friends who are...just amazing.
One of the fun (and irritating) parts about being a mom are the rhymes and songs that get stuck in your head. Not up-to-date songs, but Veggie Tales tunes and story book rhymes. Why are they always so catchy?
Just as we are quietly working, one of these such rhymes comes into my head. I break the silence:
"Skit-skat skoodle doot flip flop flee! Everybody running to the coconut tree!"
Ryan looks up from his work and sternly says "NO! Workin'!" He promptly puts his head back down to attend to his task, handful by handful carefully placing tiny mounds of dirt around this plant.
I'm thinking, "he likes this book...we read it all the time. Surely he can't mean stop talking about this book...maybe it was something else I was doing."
So I try it again "Mamma's and pappas and uncles and aunts hug their little dears then dust their pants!"
"NO! Please Stop it! Workin!"
"Sorry, Ryan," I say, holding back a smirk because he appears so offended. THAT is dedication for you. Apparently there must be no distractions while gardening. You would think he was building a bonsai sanctuary.
------------------------------
On another note, me and tiny baby are doing fine. I have had more help than I deserve out here- dinners and lunches and friends taking turns watching Ryan for me. Phil took a few days off of work to help me get some rest, too. My mom is planning on coming out next Wednesday for a few weeks, and then my mom-in-law is coming. I can't believe all of the help- it makes me feel so relieved and thankful.
I have not had to take any medication for contractions for the past three days, and while I still have to take it very easy, I am learning my limits a bit more. I head to the doctor tomorrow so we will see if anything has changed. For now, I praise God for keeping baby safe and the help he has brought me; for family and friends who are...just amazing.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Fuzzy teeth and a book
My sister has always been known to be a tad bit over-prepared. She is always the one who brings an extra pair of gloves (because she knows I will have forgotten them). She thinks ahead, plans ahead, prepares ahead. To the point that it has become something I both admire about her and laugh about with her. We are just so opposite here.
For example, when we were in junior high, a family friend won an overnight stay at a local hotel- a nice suite room in a place with a pool and indoor gardens. We were, say, 20 minutes from home, but still, a fun excursion. To prepare, I threw in a change of clothes and a swimming suit. My sister, (not kidding here) brought two full suitcases with her. With reading material, three types of bathing suits, clothing choices that would accommodate warm or cold weather, an extra coat, etc.
So, when my sister called me last week saying that she had her hospital bag packed, baby's hospital bag packed, both ready and waiting in the car along with the carseat all strapped in...I reminded her that she is only 34 weeks along. "I know," she said, matter-of-factly "I just don't want to get caught off guard. You should pack some stuff up, too."
Ha. I am only 30 weeks along, I remind her, laughing. I have a BIT of time before I need to be thinking along those lines! There are strawberries to freeze and can!
But, if my sister would have gone into the hospital this past Saturday morning with contractions just to "check things out"and then would have ended up staying overnight and until 7pm Sunday, she probably would have had a toothbrush with her. And maybe a change of clothes. Possibly some kids toys to occupy her 2 year old while he was waiting so he wouldn't be so interested in all of the cords hooked up to mommy.
I did, however, manage to throw in a book to read.
They have no idea what caused my contractions to start. They also don't know why they keep coming back. I have been sent home on "light duty" with some anti-contraction pills to take when they start up. The medication is a life-saver, even though they make me a bit light-headed and shaky.
I feel like I am walking around on eggshells. Last week, I was pretty sure I was going to conquer the world (or at least my house) and have been really excited with setting goals and completing household tasks so they would be ready for when baby came. Now, I am nervous to be up and walk around for more than 15 minutes at a time. Perhaps this will wear off, or perhaps my body just doesn't understand that babies need at least 38 weeks to grow, and it can't just putter out at 32 like it would like to.
The ultrasound they gave me to ensure baby was OK showed him at 3 pounds 14 ounces. Give or take 11 ounces. I blinked a few times before asking her if she really did mean it was GIVE or take 11 ounces...that means baby could ALREADY weigh 4 and a half pounds. Two months early. Not that it makes me nervous, or anything. Both my mom and mom-in-law would be delighted to show me what it's like to have a 10 pound baby...
So, Krissy has 18 diapers packed for her baby's going home bag. And a couple of changes of clothing. I don't think I am going to be that prepared, but I might want to start rummaging through the closet full of boxes that are marked simply "baby". See if I can find his clothes in there somewhere.
For example, when we were in junior high, a family friend won an overnight stay at a local hotel- a nice suite room in a place with a pool and indoor gardens. We were, say, 20 minutes from home, but still, a fun excursion. To prepare, I threw in a change of clothes and a swimming suit. My sister, (not kidding here) brought two full suitcases with her. With reading material, three types of bathing suits, clothing choices that would accommodate warm or cold weather, an extra coat, etc.
So, when my sister called me last week saying that she had her hospital bag packed, baby's hospital bag packed, both ready and waiting in the car along with the carseat all strapped in...I reminded her that she is only 34 weeks along. "I know," she said, matter-of-factly "I just don't want to get caught off guard. You should pack some stuff up, too."
Ha. I am only 30 weeks along, I remind her, laughing. I have a BIT of time before I need to be thinking along those lines! There are strawberries to freeze and can!
But, if my sister would have gone into the hospital this past Saturday morning with contractions just to "check things out"and then would have ended up staying overnight and until 7pm Sunday, she probably would have had a toothbrush with her. And maybe a change of clothes. Possibly some kids toys to occupy her 2 year old while he was waiting so he wouldn't be so interested in all of the cords hooked up to mommy.
I did, however, manage to throw in a book to read.
They have no idea what caused my contractions to start. They also don't know why they keep coming back. I have been sent home on "light duty" with some anti-contraction pills to take when they start up. The medication is a life-saver, even though they make me a bit light-headed and shaky.
I feel like I am walking around on eggshells. Last week, I was pretty sure I was going to conquer the world (or at least my house) and have been really excited with setting goals and completing household tasks so they would be ready for when baby came. Now, I am nervous to be up and walk around for more than 15 minutes at a time. Perhaps this will wear off, or perhaps my body just doesn't understand that babies need at least 38 weeks to grow, and it can't just putter out at 32 like it would like to.
The ultrasound they gave me to ensure baby was OK showed him at 3 pounds 14 ounces. Give or take 11 ounces. I blinked a few times before asking her if she really did mean it was GIVE or take 11 ounces...that means baby could ALREADY weigh 4 and a half pounds. Two months early. Not that it makes me nervous, or anything. Both my mom and mom-in-law would be delighted to show me what it's like to have a 10 pound baby...
So, Krissy has 18 diapers packed for her baby's going home bag. And a couple of changes of clothing. I don't think I am going to be that prepared, but I might want to start rummaging through the closet full of boxes that are marked simply "baby". See if I can find his clothes in there somewhere.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Four years now
On the last day of May we celebrated our 4th anniversary. We share the anniversary weekend with both sets of parents (how ironic!)Anyhow, I hauled out the ol' wedding album and poured over the memories of that day. I would encourage you to do this on your anniversary - it gave a renewed sweetness to my love for my husband. Even though neither of us really knew what we were getting into, it has certainly been a wonderful journey together.
It also struck me how very thin I look in these pictures. Not so much because I was the skinniest I have ever been, but because when you are pregnant and only maternity pants with large elastic inserts fit you, you start to feel like a whale (a cute whale, but one nonetheless).
I mentioned this to my husband, and he said "No! You don't look big! You're pregnant!"
Ah, husbands: trained to say all the right things at the right time.
And then he continues "You're like a pufferfish..."
"You know, because you will be small again soon."
"You didn't just say that, did you?"
"Okay, maybe that was a bad example. What about a frog with its chest puffed out."
"Maybe you should stop here."
Hey, we are only four years into this...give it time.
Also? Doesn't Phil look like he is 16 here? I can't believe how "grown up" he looks now compared to back then. He really had no idea what he had in store for him with all of this "family stuff". (He is going to be gray before he hits 30 at this rate.)
We put Ryan down early (because he makes tiny little two-year old messes that would stain a freshly ironed white tablecloth) and sat down to dinner served on our fine china and drank from wine glasses filled with chocolate milk - because that is how we do fancy when we are pregnant. It was really quite fun!
__________________________________
Anyhow, I love my husband for many reasons. First, he is a wonderful provider for our family - he never complains about working and has allowed me to stay home with Ryan for the past year and a half. Second, he is an amazing father. There are days when we differ on discipline or rewards or whatnot, but the truth of it is I cannot imagine raising Ryan without him. He is my balance and though we are not exactly the same when it comes to parenting, it really has shown to be good for Ryan. He can put him down to bed better than me any day. Plus- he doesn't hide the fact that he gets excited when Ryan gets cool toys like lego's or trains. 
Third, he pushes me to be a better person- from what I eat to how I think and live my life. I am hands down more confident now than when I met him. Plus, I would never have been excited about finding asparagus on our property before Phil, because I didn't enjoy vegetables. Today I eat fish, red meat, broccoli, asparagus, carrots, celery and a myriad of other things because of him (and the incessant taunting! Just kidding).
He has taught me to be diligent and to focus on what is important. To think beyond what is comfortable and work toward what is right and good. There are many days I hate him for this trait. And as I journey further, I realize what a blessing it is to my life. He is passionate and intent on learning all the time- something that I left for "school". But, that trait has made him into a plumber, carpenter, welder, gardener, mechanic, and farmer. I never understood the term Jack of all Trades until I met him.
Truly, the Lord blessed me with this guy.
_____________________________
I have always wondered why, given that many of us will be married one day, that we don't know who it is we are going to marry. Wouldn't that take a lot of the work out of the whole thing? Wouldn't we make a lot fewer mistakes when dating?
And then it hit me- if it would have been revealed to me that I would someday fall in love with AND marry that kid who walked me home from school when we were in 4th grade who talked the whole way home about resurrecting his rosebush from the compost pile...
Truly, we have a God who must chuckle at us, but around the turns and bends builds us such neat life.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Sibling rivalry starts early
He climbs up on the couch where I am laying down to rest. In his normal two-year old excitement he immediately stands to his feet and squeals "Jumpajump!"(you can imagine the action that usually follows). I head him off early "no no no, you have to be careful around mom's tummy - baby brother is in there."
"Baby bruver?"
"Yes, baby brother. See? In my tummy. Do you want to see if you can feel him kick?"
I place his hand on my tummy. Baby doesn't move, and Ryan stares intently at my belly. He moves his hand and finds my belly button, poking his finger into it.
Quickly he pulls it out and lets out a sharp yelp.
"Bite!" he squeals, his mouth wide open in shocked amusement.
Apparently baby bruver does not like his space invaded like that.
______________________
29 weeks. This last week I had an appointment for baby- a "heartbeat is good, measurement is good, blood pressure and protein are normal" visit. The same visit I have had each month now for some time. But when we were finishing, she said "Well, now that you are in your third trimester, we will start seeing you every two weeks."
Third trimester???
I don't think I am ready for that part. I am excited about checking on baby twice a month, though.
He is moving around so much now. Constantly kicking a rib or stretching and turning, jockeying for extra room to move around. Today in church I was distracted as I looked down to read my bible because my stomach looked like it was dancing. I really do love this part of pregnancy, though. I am big enough and baby is strong enough that I am constantly reminded he is "ok" but not so big that I am unable to tie my shoes or sleep at night.
The other side of the coin is my crazy hormones, which I don't remember being so pronounced last pregnancy, but certainly have been a reliable side-dish to my daily meal. That and absentmindedness. I won't be too sorry to see these side-kicks of mine go by the wayside once you know, baby is 28 or so and I can regain my sanity. _____________________
"Baby bruver?"
"Yes, baby brother. See? In my tummy. Do you want to see if you can feel him kick?"
I place his hand on my tummy. Baby doesn't move, and Ryan stares intently at my belly. He moves his hand and finds my belly button, poking his finger into it.
Quickly he pulls it out and lets out a sharp yelp.
"Bite!" he squeals, his mouth wide open in shocked amusement.
Apparently baby bruver does not like his space invaded like that.
______________________
29 weeks. This last week I had an appointment for baby- a "heartbeat is good, measurement is good, blood pressure and protein are normal" visit. The same visit I have had each month now for some time. But when we were finishing, she said "Well, now that you are in your third trimester, we will start seeing you every two weeks."
Third trimester???
I don't think I am ready for that part. I am excited about checking on baby twice a month, though.
He is moving around so much now. Constantly kicking a rib or stretching and turning, jockeying for extra room to move around. Today in church I was distracted as I looked down to read my bible because my stomach looked like it was dancing. I really do love this part of pregnancy, though. I am big enough and baby is strong enough that I am constantly reminded he is "ok" but not so big that I am unable to tie my shoes or sleep at night.
The other side of the coin is my crazy hormones, which I don't remember being so pronounced last pregnancy, but certainly have been a reliable side-dish to my daily meal. That and absentmindedness. I won't be too sorry to see these side-kicks of mine go by the wayside once you know, baby is 28 or so and I can regain my sanity. _____________________
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