Open Mouth, Insert Foot

Yesterday morning on the radio the DJ's were looking for stories from listeners where they had totally embarassed themselves by saying something really stupid. The person with the best story would then be given a chance to win Sesame Street Live tickets. To be honest, I didn't really want the Sesame Street tickets, though Savannah would have been thrilled, I just knew that my story had a pretty good chance of winning.

It is my most embarassing moment. And here is what happened:

In my early 20's I had a saying that I used whenever anyone was freaking out about something. I'd say something like, "well, you don't have to have a heart attack about it"! And I had this friend, whose dad was a real stickler about calling to let him know where we were at all times. We had to call before we left, call when we got there, call as we were leaving, etc. And this was at a time when few people had cell phones. It drove me crazy.

Well, when she was in college, she had a boyfried whose dad died suddenly of a heart attack. Naturally the family was devasted and he wanted her to come to the funeral, but it was in a part of town that she was unfamiliar with, so I offered to go with her. After we found the funeral home and she introduced me to her boyfriend, we met his friends and then there was a group of us just milling around.

All of sudden my friend realizes, "I forgot to call my dad!", and off she goes to find a phone. I look around to this group of people, roll my eyes and say, "Yeah, cuz if she doesn't, he'll have a heart attack".

I felt like such a jerk. I don't think I've used that saying since that day and I'll never forget it. Whether or not I would have won a chance at those tickets was not determined because I couldn't figure out the phone number to the radio station. But it would have been fun to try.

Welcome to the Real World, Son

Today after I picked Savannah up from school her little world began falling apart quickly. We got in the car and her seatbelt was too tight. She squirmed and cried and whined while I tried to calm her down and give her instructions on how to remedy the situation as I was driving down the road. Naturally, it was nearly impossible for her to hear the instructions, much less follow them, with all the crying that was going on.

Then she dropped her Meo. More crying and whining. "I HAVE to hold him. I just have to. I missed him while I was at school. Please stop driving Mommy. P-l-e-a-s-e!!!"

When she realized I was not going to pull over to pick Meo up off the floor of the car when we were within a few miles of our house, she began kicking her feet and tossing her head from side to side. To which I calmly responded, "and because you are pitching a fit, you will not be allowed to hold your Meo until you can find your self control".

At that point, her brother, who had been watching the whole scene intently, started to fuss a little bit himself. Savannah looked over at him and very matter of factly explained, "Emery, I am having a bad day and you are going to have a bad day too!!!!"

Cutest Cowboy Ever

Wouldn't you agree? Riding his horsey in his room he looked like such a big boy. Of course, that is his blankie (ba-gee) that is laying across his lap, so I suppose he's not quite ready to ride off into the sunset anytime soon.

Emery will be 14 months old on Saturday. This age is just so great! Not a baby, but not a little boy just yet. I can't get enough of his kisses. They are those open mouth, wet and slobbery kisses, that you have to wipe off with your sleeve. I love it!

Today I threw away his bottles. About 6 months ago I remember thinking that I couldn't wait for the day I "didn't have to wash these *&#% bottles anymore"! I have been weaning him onto a sippy cup and this afternoon when Daddy accidentally gave him milk in a bottle, he wouldn't drink it. I wanted to see him purse his lips around that rubber nipple one more time and maybe even snuggle back into my arms to drink it, but no such luck. He had more important things to do. Chairs to climb on. A tupperware cabinet to disembowel. Ya know...the important stuff.

So I gathered together the remaining bottles and all their accessories and tossed them into the trash can. A chapter of my life is now closed. It's not as freeing as I thought it would be.

To be sad would be a waste of perfectly good energy, so I will choose to ignore the thoughts of "if I would have..." and "I wish I had only..." and focus on my adorable son in the moment. These wonderful moments of learning new words, like turtle (tur-ta) and Big Bird (be-be). The moment every morning that makes my heart melt as I see the sparkle of delight in his eyes when I walk through his door to give him the first hug of the day. I am still his favorite person.

And he is my favorite little boy.

Sweet Seat

And speaking of preschool...

Last night at the dinner table I asked Savannah about school this week and she went on to tell me that she had to sit in the "Sweet Seat". (The sweet seat is the name of the chair that sits in the corner of the room. When children misbehave, they must sit there until they can be sweet.) When I asked her what actions led her to the sweet seat, she told me she stuck her tongue out at Ms. Hilda. (!)

My initial response welling up inside of me was embarassment. "You did what??? Why would you do that???", I wanted to shout, but I stayed relatively calm. This is one of those defining moments in parenting, I thought. How I react to her telling me this may determine if and when she tells me about more poor choices she makes and the consequences she endures.

So we talked a little bit about what happened. I found myself wanting to know if any other kids were making faces. Or if anybody else had ever been sent to the corner to sit for "2 days" (that's how long she said she was there...he he). I immediately wanted reassurance that my kid wasn't the only one!

From what I could gather, Savannah was the first one in her class to be disciplined in the sweet seat. And this was the first time that I have ever felt the need to explain to a teacher that, "no, I promise, she has never done that before at home, or we would have told her it was unacceptable". The whole experience was new for me and the feelings of parental failure were coming in strong.

Then I remembered something that our Pastor had talked about Sunday morning. He had touched on the subject of comparing our kids to other kids, and how we sometimes use that as a way to judge ourselves as parents. "Well, at least my kid's not doing what that kid is doing...I must be doing a good job". He reminded us that there is only one person we should be comparing our children to and that is Jesus Christ. Are they displaying Christ-like qualities?

So I stepped back and removed myself from the fleshy feelings that wanted to control the situation and made a mental "note to self" that it was okay for Savannah to make a bad choice. It was even better that Ms. Hilda addressed it and let Savannah know that is something that will not be permissible in her classroom. I am not a failure and it is not a direct reflection on my poor parenting skills that she tried to get away with questionable behavior around another adult. She was simply testing the waters.

And all the tests that she is throwing out to me these days are opportunities for me to point her in the right direction. To give her better solutions and problem solving skills. To develop in her the fruits of the spirit. The very same fruits I am developing in myself. (How appropriate.)

First Day of Preschool

Last week Savannah started back to preschool at First Baptist Conyers Child Development Center. She finished up the 2 year old program with them in March-May of this past spring. She really liked it and had been asking all summer when she would get to go back to school. Oh, that and she wanted to know if Josh was going to be in her class again (he is a little boy that pushed her on her first day of school last year and she just won't let it go!).

The 3 year olds go three days a week from 9-12. I love dropping her off in the morning. We sit in the carpool lane and she tells me if she knows any of the other kids. If it's a boy she'll say, "He's okay, Mommy. He's not Josh". (let it go!) Then when it's her turn, she takes her seat belt off, puts her backpack on and yells, "Bye Mommy"!!! She's in too big of a hurry this year to give me a kiss, but that's alright. I'll get plenty of that when I pick her up in the afternoon.

Punching Numbers

This week I started working at the office for our CFO who is on maternity leave. I have committed to 3 days a week. I have had mixed feelings about the next 6-8 weeks. Not so much because I don't want to do it, just because I have completely inconvenieced my family for the same amount of time.

The problem, obviously, is child care. It would be different if I regularly worked 3 days a week. I would have a regular schedule. But since this is only temporary, I still have them in their normal routines consisting of preschool, Gymboree, and ballet. All of those are things I do with the kids during the day while Jeremy is at work. So now, my family is helping to keep up with their activities.

I so hope they know how much I appreciate what they are doing. I have told them "thanks", but it doesn't seem like enough. Heck, an all expense paid vacation to Europe doesn't seem like enough! They are the BEST!!!! Thank you Nanny, Aunt Jess, and Aunt Irene!!! We all love you guys sooooooo much!!!

A New Ride

I purchased a new vehicle this weekend. Yes, another one. But this time I hope to have it for a really, really long time. Like maybe even PAY IT OFF! We drove everything from Land Cruisers to Mustangs (that was just to put some fun into the whole horrid new car buying experience) and decided on an Expedition.

Now I had an Expedition after Savannah was born. I traded my absolute favorite vehicle of all time, my 4-Runner, for something safer. Something I could haul a pack and play AND a stroller in simutaneously. Something kid friendly, with DVD's and push buttons galore. But Jeremy hated it. It was, after all, a Ford product.

So for the past 3 years he has tried to talk me into just about every GMC product on the market. We got a Tahoe and then an Escalade. I never really liked the Tahoe, but the Cadillac was sweet. It's got every luxury imaginable, but it's just SO BIG!!! All I really wanted was my Expedition back.

On Friday I did lots of research and comparative shopping on the internet. By Saturday I was signing the paperwork for a 2006 Expedition King Ranch. It's super cool. I just love it!!! And poor Jeremy, he is learning the meaning of the phrase, "Never say never". :)

City Slickers II

After spending a week in my house with 2 toddlers (a daughter, whose conversation is all about her 3 year world, and a 1 year old whose vocabulary mostly consists of the word "Mmm", followed by pointing to show me what he's talking about. And if I miss the first "Mmm" prompt, it only gets louder and more forceful until I stop what I am doing and take notice!), it is easy to see why I was so eager to TALK to Jeremy when he got home from his trip. I wanted to know details!!! You know how us girls can be...details, details, give me the details!!!

This is the wonderful conversation we had after the welcome home "hug-and-kiss-fest" had ceased:

Me: So, how was your trip? I can't believe you spent a week without a cell phone and blackberry. Were you able to not think about work? Gosh, what DID you think about out there?
Him: Being warm.
Me: Oh, so it was cold the whole time? Did you and your Dad get any time to really talk about stuff? You know, Father/Son stuff?
Him: We talked about the best way to keep warm.
Me: Seriously? It was that bad? Well, what was your favorite part of the trip?
Him: Coming home.

And that about covers it!!!! The next day he showed me the pictures he took and that's when he really opened up. He talked the most about the picture at the above left. That is the "bathroom", called a Banyo up in those parts. It is pretty much a hole in the ground and you sit on the sticks when you have to go. He said the view from the banyo was amazing! :)

Here is the whole gang that went on the trip: (standing L to R: Trail Boss, Jim, Sonny, Jay, Trail Hand, Jeremy...kneeling L to R: Brian, Trail Cook, and 3 people from Seattle).

I'm Back...

In case you are wondering if it took me this long to put my recipes together, the answer is "No". All that went relatively smooth and I was finished by Friday. I had the best time putting all the information together. I went through all my favorite cookbooks and made a spreadsheet of recipe ideas. Then, so I wouldn't have to scramble around in 5 or 6 different cookbooks on my "day of cooking", I wrote each recipe out in advance and printed them into a little notebook. The whole process made my highly organizational heart go pitter patter!

So why no blogging? Well, if you knew me at this time last year, all I would have to say is "it's that time of year again" and you might remember what happened in July-Sept of last year. In a nutshell? Lightning.

We got hit again on Thursday. It blew out the phones, my computer network card, and the modem. Everything else on the computer seems to be fine. I was in the kitchen emptying the dishwasher when it happened. The kids were playing on the other side of the room. Suddenly there was a HUGE noise. Not a sizzle or a pop. It was a P-O-W!!!! I had my head buried in a cabinet at the time, but I screamed and looked over at the kids immediately. They were both frozen still and wide eyed. I asked Savannah if she saw anything. She said "Yes. A blue monster." That was all I needed to hear. I picked Emery up and he latched onto me like a leach. We all headed downstairs.

I really need to do some research to find out what causes frequent lightning strikes in certain areas. This is the first time I've lived near any kind of water and I just wonder if that is a factor. And I wonder why the lightning is so bad during these few months. It is like nothing I have ever experienced before and during the storms, I am truly scared for my safety and that of my kids.

That being said, the inability to use my computer did give me some unexpected free time and so I cleaned out the cabinets in my kitchen. All in all last week was a good, productive week. My dinner menu is planned until mid September, I had quality time with the children, and I enjoyed reading from a few good books. Oh, and the best part, Jeremy came home a few days early. I will write a little about his trip tomorrow. Right now, I need to catch up on email. :)

Taking a Break

I am going to be taking a little break from blogging for a few days. During my normal "computer time", usually while somebody is napping, I am going to work on getting my recipes together for my new monthly cooking extravaganza. I have the freezer almost completely empty, so I'm hoping to get my meals together by the weekend.

The Cow Killer

The other night the kids and I were outside waiting for Aunt Jessica to get to our house, and this lovely creature came scurrying out of the garage, right for us!!! (This is not the actual critter...this picture is off the internet.)

After living on the lake for the past year, I can surely say that I have seen my share of large, ugly insects. But this one really scared the ba-gee-gees out of me because I recognized it from my 8th grade science fair project.

My friend Melissa and I spent all summer collecting bugs for our project and I can remember looking through our National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Insects many, many nights, trying to classify our catches of the day.

It was difficult to determine our captured ants scientific names since most of them look so similar. Except for the Cow Killer. It stood out from all the rest. Oh how I would have loved to find one to add to our collection.

And then here, some 20 years later, I have the opportunity to witness the infamous Cow Killer, otherwise known as Red Velvet. But seeing as I didn't need to carefully smother the fury, scary ant, leaving his body intact for the science fair, I grabbed my son into my arms, ran to get my tennis shoe in the garage, and repeatedly smacked the living daylights out of it until it broke in half. Whew...dead.

Or so I thought!!! A few minutes later Savannah called out "it's still moving, Mommy. I'll go get the shoe". I figured it was twitching or slowly taking it's last breath, but when I looked over at where the 2 pieces of ant were left, only ONE half remained!!!

I felt like I was in a creepy science fiction movie. The "ant" (if he could still be called that with only 2 legs), had made his way into the bushes so I put the shoe on this time, and stepped, stomped, and squished until he was buried in the ground. I have no idea if he made his way out again, but let's hope not. He would most certainly have a vendetta against me!

After eating dinner I called my dad to see what he could tell me about the Cow Killer. He was familiar with the species and told me that even though the name makes it sound like a venomous creature, the ants can't kill you. But they can give out a really nasty sting. Not something I would have wanted for either of my children, I can assure you!

Longing for a Gentle Spirit

I have been under conviction lately regarding my lack of gentleness. And actually, my memory verse for this week was not taken from my discipleship book. It is a verse that was laid on my heart during quiet time and I became painfully aware that the Holy Spirit was talking to me and the way I react to members of my family.

People who know me and do not live with me might be surprised to know that "gentle" is not a word that anybody in my family would EVER use to describe me. Sure, I am nice. Helpful. Polite. And agreeable on most things. Anytime I have taken a personality test, the results are always the same: Phlegmatic with underlining Supine. Which in laymans terms means, I have a pretty nonchalant attitude and like to get along with everybody, but if you ever do someting to tick me off, I will probably hold a grudge for the rest of my life!

And since it's hard to live with people and not do something to upset them at least once, I have this internal anger that I mask as "hurt feelings" and can't ever seem to get over it. Not that I dwell on it all the time. Things will go along smoothly, then when they upset me again, all those past hurts come rolling back, making it hard for me to deal with the current situation and move on.

So in an effort to overcome my harsh, unforgiving attitude, I went through my bible and wrote down every verse that I could find pertaining to gentleness. Another verse struck a chord with me. 1 Thes. 2:7 says "but we were gentle among you, like a mother caring for her little children."

It left me wondering, how can I care for my children gently? I mean, obviously, if my kids were perfect angels and they walked around the house on white, billowy clouds, speaking softly, and dishing out nothing but hugs and kisses, it would be much easier to answer that question. But they are far from it. Savannah clomps all over the hardwood floors in her plastic Cinderella shoes, talking nonstop and using the word "Mommy" over and over and over until my ears start to bleed, while Emery is either screeching or crying. And heaven help me when they try to play together, because that just ends in somebody getting hurt... insert more fussing and crying here.

I have said before that I really hate myself when I yell at them. Even if it is just to get their attention and shouting at that decibel is the only way they can hear me. It is still uncalled for in my opinion. But eliminating the yelling and replacing it with gentleness is not something I had considered before. Is it possible?

The rest of this week I have tried to use the familiar "W.W.J.D?" to help me in disciplinary situations. Most other times, having a mothers' gentle heart is not too hard, as long as I keep it in the forefront of my mind. However, when it comes to teaching my children about what is appropriate or inappropriate behavior, especially in the midst of a battle of the wills, what would Jesus do?

Which leads me to the horrific episode that happened last night at my parents' house, where we were supposed to spend the night and get up this morning making blueberry pancakes and having a great time, but instead ended abruptly with me carrying Savannah to the car, kicking and screaming, shaking my head is disbelief all the way home.

It started simple enough. I believe she was bored with the adult conversation that was going on and started acting out to get attention. She ignored the correction and so she got a time out. All she had to do was sit in time out, QUIETLY, for 2 minutes, but she couldn't stop talking, whining, and crying. This went on for what seemed like an eternity. Then I took away a favorite toy, adding, "if you will just be quiet for 2 minutes and think about why you are sitting here, you can have your Meo back and we will all go inside and play". Nope. She couldn't do it. And the crying became louder. After another eternity (can there be 2?) I told her she was going to bed. That caused the most intense screaming episode I had ever witnessed out of her. I guess it would be called a "Royal Fit"!

I am still thinking to myself "W.W.J.D.", and though I was pretty sure Jesus would not spank a child, I did it anyways. But it was wasted because she started wailing and throwing herself around the room. I was left with no other option but to leave.

I thought all night and this morning about how to incorporate gentleness into that situation. And while there is plenty of examples in the bible of how God expects us to treat people, I don't know of any place where Jesus encountered an out of control, shrieking child. Unless those are the stories about him driving out demons! :)

So anyways, this is my current quest. Figuring out how to teach my children right from wrong, in a respectable, loving, gentle way, without being too soft, too overbearing, or too harsh. Yeah, that's not too hard!!!

Where's Your Sign?

Unlike some people, I have never felt the need to express my personal opinions via bumper stickers. It doesn't bother me that other people do have them. As a matter of fact, I almost always read them and have been known to tailgate on occasion, trying to see what some say.

This morning I approached a red light and noticed that the car in front of me was COVERED in all kinds of stickers and magnets. I thought, "Cool. I'd love a good laugh."

The first sticker I read said, "Never underestimate the power of stupid people in great numbers", and it didn't take long to realize the driver must have been talking about himself. There were statements questioning the intelligence of President Bush and another eluding that putting more Science in the classrooms will solve our nations problems. Between the slashed through outline of a Fish sticker and several promoting the theory of Evolution, it was obvious where this man stood on religion.

As I sat there waiting for the light to turn green, I found myself getting angry. Then I tried to figure out why. Was it simply his opinions that were getting me fired up? I had read similiar bumper stickers before and not gotten upset. Maybe it was because there were so many. Like just one wasn't enough. To get his point across he had to practically cover the entire back end of his car. It was as if his trunk was shoved in my face and forcing me to read that garbage.

After giving it some serious thought, I believe the problem lies in his perception of people who do not share his viewpoint. We must be dumb. These stickers weren't just giving his beliefs, they were degrading to anyone who disagreed with him, assuming that we were not educated enough to be so enlightened.

If I could have had an intelligent conversation with this fellow (highly unlikely, I'm sure), I would have asked him about the biggest sticker that was right in the middle of all the others. It said, "Don't pray in my school, I won't think in your church". To me, this is the perfect sentiment for this man's attitude. Can you picture these 2 scenerios? First, there is that of a child quietly praying in school. Maybe outloud, maybe not. Either way, asking his Lord to help him be a good friend, giving thanks for his parents, and maybe promising that if He helps him pass his math test, he will never forget to take out the trash again!

Then there is the second scenerio. Of a man sitting in a church. Arms crossed, lips pursed. Suspicious that brainwashing is going on. Full of pride and determined not to open his mind up to the loving people all around him.

What a way to live life. So skeptical. Feeling morally superior to all those around you. When I came to this conclusion, I actually felt a little sorry for the dude. I put aside my idea of shoving my gas guzzling SUV into 4 wheel drive and slamming into the back of that tiny white 1994 Geo Prizm, thereby crushing those nonsensical bumper stickers and spilling the steaming hot cup of coffee that I could see sitting in his lap. That would probably be a detriment to my Christian witness. Instead, I think I will pray for him and hope that someday he will find his place in the universe and the freedom to love all people, even those who stubbornly refuse to open their mind to the greatness of all that is God.

Bringing "Home" to Family (and Friends, too)

Continuing my efforts to cook every night for my family is not so easy with Jeremy out of town. Savannah and I couldn't care less about eating dinner and Emery will eat ANYTHING, so why not just give him good ole PB&J each night? Well, the reason is simple actually. I really want to provide my family, whoever is at the dinner table, with a nutritious home cooked meal. There is something about that meal, lovingly made with moms own hands, filling the kitchen with warm, mouthwatering aromas, that appeals to me. That is what makes me think of "home".

Yesterday I had planned to make a big batch of chicken salad to eat over the next few days, but around lunch time I remembered a friend of ours who was having some tests run in Atlanta. His wife would be taking him which left his mom (who is visiting from out of town) with their son who just started kindergarten on Tuesday. I thought it would be a nice gesture to make a meal for their family so Velvet wouldn't have to fix dinner when they got home from a long day in the city.

I decided not to make the chicken salad, even though it is sooooo good, because Joey is just like Jeremy. A Southern boy, through and through, and I thought I might get the same comments from him that I hear at home..."I don't want to eat that. There is fruit in with the meat". (roll eyes and shake head here).

It left this Midwestern girl in quite a quandary. The only meal I can fix, confident in it's "down home" appeal, is a rather tasty roast with mashed potatoes and gravy, carrots, and yeast rolls. Makes my husband drool everytime. But I didn't have a roast...I had chicken. What to do, what to do???

So I started digging through some homestyle cookbooks, looking in the index under "chicken". I decided on something that I have been wanting to learn how to make for some time, but have been too intimidated to try: chicken and dumplings.

I had never heard of them until about 10 years ago when I was working part time at the Blue Willow Inn. They have a southern style buffet that brings people from all over the country. I instantly fell in love with their dumplings and would take them home with me after my Friday night shift.

The recipe seemed simple enough, but I was apprehensive about making the dough. As a general rule, if I am reading a recipe and it calls for anything with yeast or a candy thermometer, or bringing water to a certain temperature, I just simply throw it out. Too complicated. But this dough recipe was only flour, milk, and oil. No rising. No tepid water. No kneading. It could be doable.

As I began boiling the water, I called my mom's friend Mellie (writer of the recipe) just to be sure it was, in fact, as easy as it sounded. She gave me some advice and I felt good about trying out a new meal on my friends.

All afternoon the kitchen smelled great! Not only did I end up making some truly wonderful chicken and dumplings, I also made a batch of butter beans, a carrot cake with cream cheese icing, and a gallon of sweet tea. And on the way to their house I stopped by a road side stand and bought some fresh red tomatoes that Emery could NOT stop eating! :)

Hopefully my motivation is not short lived. If it is, Jeremy will be so sorry he was out of town this week and missed it! Tee Hee!!!

1 Peter 3:15

Weekly Memory Verse: "But in your hearts, set apart Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect."

City Slickers

At 3:00 this morning my husband left the house to meet his dad at the local airport for a flight to Wyoming. There is a trip my father in law has been trying to get Jeremy to go on for 3 years now and finally this year, Jeremy got tired of him asking and said, "Fine, Dad, I'll go". Ooooh, the excitement! :)

I wish I could be a fly on the wall, um, no...rather a fly on a horse, I suppose, because this is a week long horseback pack trip through Yellowstone National Park. Just a little insight into why I think this is so funny: Jeremy's idea of "roughing it" would be staying at the Motel 6 instead of the Comfort Inn Suites. And now he is about to spend 7 nights sleeping under the stars? What a hoot!

And riding a horse? I suggested it once when we were dating, you know, that time in your relationship when you will do anything with the other person just so you can be together, and he said "no way". Can you imagine riding a horse for one whole week when you haven't been on one in about 20 years? My thighs hurt just thinking about it!

Last night when he was packing we were going over the list that Press Stephens Outfitting had sent him to make sure he had the proper gear. Here are some things they suggested: flashlight, one quart water bottle, bear mace, sunglasses, 2 garbage bags, 5-10 ziploc baggies, biodegradable soap and toothpaste (I didn't know regular soap and toothpaste weren't biodegradeable!), sunscreen, rain suit that will fit over jeans, wool sweater, long underwear, shorts, T-shirts, long sleeved shirts, jeans, wool socks, swimming suit, hat, bandanas, leather gloves, and flask, filled to your specifications.

Interesting list, don't you think? Bear mace? Yep. Turns out it's not available in all 50 states, but you can buy it just about anywhere in Wyoming. And I also thought it was strange to be putting a wool sweater and a swimming suit in the same duffle bag, but it turns out the temperatures at Yellowstone in August will vary from 90+ degrees to below 20 in one 24 hour period. (FYI-Jeremy hates to be cold).

I also noticed when I got up this morning that Jeremy had added one thing to the list, put at the top of the page with a #1 beside it, and in red ink so he wouldn't forget...can you guess what it was? Advil.

Each time I picture the guys out there, I think of the movie City Slickers and it makes me chuckle to myself. I'm sure they won't have the same kind of trouble Billy Crystal ran into "bringing in the herd" without the trail boss, but I do hope that like the 3 friends in the movie, they are able to strengthen their relationships and have some time to renew their minds under the big open skies. One week without a cell phone and a blackberry will be good for my husband. (We'll miss you Babe!)