The Stuff Memories Are Made Of

There are things that are normal in our home that are abnormal for most. It is one of the sweet things about families.  Each is unique.

It is the stuff memories are made of.

Common events in our home: worship and preaching. It is not from the one spends his weekdays in a church office or the Momma who spends her days lovin' Jesus. It is from our offsprings. 

On a daily basis, my oldest two 'lead worship.'  Noah's room is equipped with a stage, two acoustic guitars, one electric guitar, one drum set, a bongo drum, and a microphone with a sound system.  I know I have said it before, but my boy is a music lover.  And I beleive with everything inside of me that he is Supernaturally gifted especially musically.  His younger sister has followed suit and I believe one day she will be the sweet harmony to his songs.  Trust me, Jesus has used their songs to minister to me on many, many occasions.  Frustration and anger are a bit harder to come by when I hear these voices in unison. 

Back to our family being abnormal. 

One evening over a month ago, our day concluded like this:

Noah introduced our worship leaders for the night...

Then Daddy and Kayter-bug lead us in a worship set...

While Noah, Emmy, and I worshiped with them in the audience...

Ending with Noah preaching...

(When he preaches he always refers to Jesus as The Lord, Jesus Christ. Very formal. ;)

I am not sure how well you can hear this, but it's pretty cute.  Brad didn't catch the beginning of it, which was super entertaining and very true.  Noah was telling "how The Lord, Jesus Christ came to Earth.  He came to Earth and he died and three days later he rose to heaven.  How did he get to heaven anyway? I'm not really sure.  I don't even know how that happened. But it did! It did happen. The Lord, Jesus Christ did go up to heaven. I'm very sure about that!" 

What I love about this particular video and the thing that makes it one to commit to memory is that he ends with the age old question... WHERE DO BABIES COME FROM?  

Something on every child's mind, right?

Did you hear Kayt in the background asking about praying? Funny girl.  Don't mind the text that came through on Brad's phone, the all encompassing iPhone. :)

There you have it. 

A normal night in our home. 

Nothing produced here, nothing made up, this is just how we live.  

I pulled the pictures and video off of our computer just to prove... we are abnormal & unique!

This is what our memories are made of!

Door-ly Beloved

For some insane reason, when we were working countless tiring hours on fixing up our 5o-year old home, we opted not to paint the doors. We painted every other inch of wood in this casa and why we decided to skimp out on the doors is beyond me. 

Over the past year, I have spent many nights rocking Kayt or reading to Noah only to glance up and think "we must paint those doors to match the other woodwork."   

Actually, I know why we didn't paint the doors in the first place.  We were tired.  I had had home renovations up to my ears and was ready to just live in the darn thing.  I was also 6 months pregnant.  

You see, our first house was new. It had great countertops, a lovely back splash, an oversized garden tub, wonderful tile and no character. I mean, it was great. Everything was new, clean, worked well, and smelled fresh but it was just like 3 other houses on our block.  I decided that when it came to our next house I wanted something old.  I wanted to be able to pull up all the carpet to find thick, real hardwood floors. I wanted to paint and texture and re-do.  I wanted a floorplan that wasn't like my neighbors. I wanted something with character!

I'm crazy.

I realized I was crazy about 2 hours into Home Renovation 101.  I also realized that HGTV was much more fun to watch than to live.   

Back to the doors... 

Our home has so so many doors. Gosh. So many doors.

When I decided last week that I wanted to accomplish my door-painting project, I called in back-up. My mom came to the rescue and agreed to spend the day helping me or better put, doing most of the work.  

Last Tuesday, while Noah was away at M.D.O. my mom, brother and I began removing the doors and painting.  We were about 95% complete by that evening and I was quite impressed with our diligence. 

I knew my hubby would be so proud and very thankful that I had taken it upon myself to undertake such a huge task. I knew I must be earning brownie points in the 'wife-of-the-year' book. 

On Wednesday, Brad was going to spend an hour or two rehanging all the doors.  All in all, it was turning out to be a pretty easy project. A little over 24 hours of mayhem and we would be back to normal. With white doors, of course.  My father-in-law came over to assist my minimally handy husband.

After two hours, I could see the frustration rising in Brad's eyes. I could hear the exaggerated sighs.  I knew something must not be right when dinner time rolled around and no doors had found their previous home.  

Apparently...I should have labeled doors and hinges.  

Apparently...every door in our house is sized just a bit differently.

Apparently...certain hinges went with certain doors.

Apperently...I made a big mistake.

So, my innocently good efforts in improving the quality of our home life was in vein. Okay, so maybe I wasn't trying to improve our quality of living, but I thought it would look better.  

After playing musical doors for a day or so, we now have 6 doors lined up in our hallway, 2 in the garage, 6 on their rightful hinges, and 5 that are hanging but do not shut correctly.  

If you are in the neighborhood, feel free to stop by.

We would love for you to be our guest. 

But if you are expecting to use the bathroom in privacy, you may have to go to one of those "newer" houses with less "character".  But, the pantry is a free-for-all and the towels in the hall closet are easily accessible.  

Character I wanted, character I got because nothing spells character like a house with no doors.

I think now would be a good time to remove my name from that wife-of-the-year list. I'll just disqualify myself.  

Come with 2, Leave with 2

Do not stay out late!

Do not stay out late!

Do not stay out late!

We did it. We stayed out way too late last night and Noah was up until an hour that begins with a double digit. I won't tell you which one for the sake of judgement. Therefore, I was pleasantly surprised this morning when he awoke early and appeared to be quite chipper. I was very impressed! And then...and then....and then after I talked to a very lovely lady named Deborah at poison control, I realized we really had made a mistake.

He swallowed an entire handful of Kayt's teething tablets. They are tiny, white, dissolvable tablets that do resemble something enticing, some sort of candy. Much to my relief, Highland's Teething Tablets are not too harmful. Thank you Jesus for homeopathic medicine because other than having excess caffein and possibly causing an upset stomach, there was no harm done. Whew!

The number to reach my new friends is 1.800.222.1222. If you are a momma and do not have this number programmed in your phone, I recommend doing so right now! Stop. Put the number in your phone. You never know when it will come in handy. And after it's too late is not the best time to be looking up the number...trust me!

After this commotion we were off to Mother's Day Out, or school as we call it. My typically compliant, excited child decided about half-way to school that he would rather not go today. His insistence grew with each passing mile and by the time we reached the parking lot he was quite determined that he did not want to go to school today, and he did not want to play with his friend, and he did not want to play on the playground, and he did not want to sing songs with Ms. Eloise, and he did not want to read a Bible story and he definitely did not want to color a picture.  After a bit of the distraction technique (which I must say I am quite good at), we walked hand-in-hand into his classroom. He was great! Until I said goodbye...and then, his little lip began to tremble and he ran over and fell into my arms sobbing. It was quite dramatic.

Needless to say, I pulled into the parking lot with 2 children in the back seat of my Toyota and I left the parking lot with 2 children in the back seat of my Toyota. 

But right now, I am enjoying an extra tasty cup of coffee and some peace and quite.  I have two snoring, extreemly exhausted, napping kids.  

Lucky for me, we had such a great time last night with our dear friends that I will take this mornings commotion with a smile on my face and an extra cup of coffee. Or two.

But after today, I will try to remember...

Do not stay out late!

Do not stay out late!

Do not stay out late!

Warning: Blow Dry at Your Own Risk!

I've checked my blow dryer. Can you check yours? 

My ConAir says nothing about all of the hazardous warnings. It cautions about electrical shock from exposure to water, but says nothing about premature aging  due to stress. 

 There is no warning of increased gravity.

Nor is there a warning of soggy children.

I am positive it say nothing about forcing us to try and attain new heights. 

Do you think I can sue for failure to inform the user of all possible effects?

Oh Yeah!

Guess who is having a birthday tomorrow? 

My baby will be TWO! It is hard to gage how quickly time passes until you have a child. Their growth is a tangible measure for how fast time flies and how much change can come about in a short amount of time. 

I am so proud of my little guy and the sweet person he is. When I was putting him to bed a few nights ago, I told him how much I loved him, how thankful I was for him and how proud I was of him. As I was about to shut the door he said, "Ashee, I poud of you!"  Thank you Noah...the feelings are mutual.

On our way out the door for MDO, Noah wanted to see himself in the camera. I intended to take a picture but accidentally had it in video mode. Just wanted to show off what a big boy I have.

I'm sorry about it being sideways, I don't know how to rotate a video. Don't you love how he holds the cheesy grin for so long? I have him trained well! 

I can't go without showing off my little angel as well...

She is so fun. She is loving her newly found independence in sitting.  I can't keep up with her once I put her on the ground. She's a roller! I could honestly eat her face off! I cannot get enough of her sweet baby kisses. I feel bad because I kiss her so much that sometimes I chap her cheeks...not good. You just can't get these days back though, I have to take advantage of those kisses.

Bye-Bye BaBa

Prepare yourself. You may not want to read this if you are not a mother. Mothers, proceed...you will understand.

This little guy is no more. Not Noah, the pacifier. If a two year old can have an addiction, my son did.  He and his "BaBa" were connected at the hip mouth. 

Last Saturday, I awoke to a muffled form of my name. And that was it. I had had enough of Noah trying to talk, but being hindered by that nasty thing.  After much coercing, I told Noah to say bye bye to his BaBa. We found a nice gift sack and collected his many pacifiers from around the house. We came to the conclusion that we would "mail" them to his cousin, Ty-Ty. This seemed only fitting since Tyson is a baby and Noah is a big boo-eee (Noah's words, not mine). He was so funny, he was holding the last pacifier and before he could drop it in the bag he had to get a few final sucks in. He finally, reluctantly dropped it in the bag and then gleamed with pride. 

That was it, no more BaBa.

Until he fell over a basketball 10 minutes later. 

"I need Noah's BaBa," is what he began to repeat over and over and over.  Day after day, the requests became fewer, and alas we have gone 2 days without even a single request. I have to admit, I almost gave in a few times. His face seemed so pathetic and you could see the yearning in his face. He would call out for it in his sleep. But we stood our ground, we were finished with that germ infested mouth ornament. For the record...I did wash it. Sometimes I felt as though all I did was wash pacifiers, but I never knew what floors or hands it had touched when I wasn't looking. 

One day last week, I found him in Kayt's room with all of the drawers pulled out and clothes strewn over the floor. She had 2 pacifiers that I had put in her sock drawer a while back in case she ever decided to choose the pacifier over her thumb. I had completely forgotten about them. He was sitting in the corner, viciously sucking away on a pink and purple pacifier. Can you feel the desperation?

Now I can proudly say that Noah has gone over a week without his beloved BaBa!!! Go Noah~

It just seemed fitting for Ty-Ty (or rather mom) to buy Noah a gift to celebrate the arrival at his new stage in life...big-boyhoood.  Does anything seem more appropriate for a big boy than a Potty movie? I think not.

I bought Elmo's Potty Time at Waly-World and it was just the perfect gift. We have now watched this DVD one-gazillion times. 

Thank you Sesame Street for bringing my child the latest in bathroom education.  The first time I watched it, I was a little shocked at all they reveal about using the potty. I had to laugh when the song played to introduced  the vast array of names you can call your urination and feces. I've had never heard many of these words. Of course, of all words Noah would hone in on dookey. Dookey? Come on. That was the one word I was hoping he wouldn't hear. It is so tacky. But he did, and he thinks it is hilarious to say. 

Tonight I took Noah's diaper off so that he could take a bubble bath and he sat down on his potty to 'attempt' to pee pee like Elmo.  After a few seconds, he stood up, encouraged himself with a quick "Yea Noah, almost" and ran down the hallway. Just as I was about to turn the water off, I heard my naked boy yell his new word. DOOKEY! And dookey he had. He had messed in the floor. Not just any mess, diarrhea! May I add that 95% of our house has hardwood floors yet he choose to lay his mark on the tiny bit of carpeted area.  

Of course Brad was not home, Kayt was screaming to be fed, Noah was running from me laughing, and I could see the bubbles reaching the top of the tub. Is that a run-on? I hope so because that chaotic 10 minutes felt like a run-on. 

This makes me curious, does anyone else ever feel as though when the husbands are gone all of the action happens? Maybe it's just in our house. Brad has managed to miss the majority of illnesses, a trip to the ER, many doctor visits, allergic reactions, hyper medication reactions, and now this. How do they do it?

As we leave the pacifier stage behind and enter into our attempts at potty training, I'm sure the Lord will have many great lessons in store for me on how to go with the flow!

The Family Bed

Call it what you will: the family bed, co-sleeping, sleep sharing...we have taken it up. For those of you who may be unfamiliar with this term, it is simply when parents and children sleep in one bed. And we, The Ingram Gang, have been practicing this method for over 2 weeks.

This is quite common in America, as well as across the world.

It works for millions of families.

Yet, we are NOT one of them!

The difference between our household and the many others who practice such habits is that neither my husband or I chose this. 

Our children did!

We have had re-occurring illnesses being shot back and forth like a pin-ball machine. From one child to the next and back again, they've even been gracious enough to include the parents a time or two. 

The problem: shared sleeping.

The solution: more shared sleeping.

Though both children begin the night in their bed of ownership, at some groggy point in the night they each make their way to our bed. 

Their tactics differ, the results do not. 

Noah simply calls out in a very, very loud that would bring even the heaviest sleeper to attention,  "Ashey, Ashey. Noah needs OUTTTTT!"

And yes, my son does call me by my first name. He always has, but that's another story.

I've ignored it. 

It does not go away.

I've responded.

He does not go back to sleep.

I've even yelled across the house "Noah, close your eyes and I will be there in a little while."

To which he replied "Oh-Tay!"

Of course, I thought he would fall alseep. Yeah right.

Fifteen minutes later I quietly peered in his room only to find him sitting up in bed, playing an air drum. I do have to give my compliant child credit though, he did have his eyes closed!

Kayt, on the other hand, just cries out. My sweet girl has not felt well. I've learned very quickly that she does not like to be in pain. At all. That, coupled with her new found mobility has caused many wakeful nights. She has began to turn herself ninety degrees and then gets upset with how she is positioned. As soon as we make eye contact, it's over. She will not go back to sleep alone once she has seen me. Forget it!

Our chaos bed has looked something like that of the 5 little monkeys. Only half of these monkeys are not so little, and no one has felt much like jumping.  Two pillows on the outside so Kayt cannot roll off, me-smashed in between my children, Noah and then Brad.  I think more children are out of the question. Where would we put them?

Many families partake in this voluntarily. To them I say, way to go! I would also throw in an "Are you crazy?" just for sanity's sake. Yet for the Ingrams, I think each monkey would be best fit to sleep in the bed purchased for them. 

There are times in life when you just need mamma or rather, Ashey. This, for my children, has been one of those weeks. Until they are feeling better, I'll do all I can to bring them rest and comfort. 

But I must say, I have very quickly found out that sleeping is one luxury I desire to do alone. 

Well...I guess I could make one exception.

Move over Brad!

All EYES on Me!

As promised.

While typing my eye make-up removal tip, I was flooded with thoughts of the day I learned this valuable, well-earned tip. 

Go with me there...

It was 2 days before the biggest day of my life, my wedding day. I was overjoyed with excitement as all of the last minute details began to fall into place. I am sure you remember the days before your wedding. Full of phone calls to the flourist, errand running, tanning sessions, and all of the other blissful tasks that need to be accomplish. 

On my list of tasks: getting my eyebrows waxed and my eyelashes dyed. 

Now let me explain the eye lash dying.

If any of you have naturally blonde hair, like I do, you know that your eyebrows are a shade of blonde(or rather light brown), as well as, eyelashes.   

For our honeymoon, we were going to Maui, which meant days full of the beach! And we all know that a day on the beach means no make-up.  Don't get me wrong, I'm all about no make-up.  In fact, I have none on at this very moment.  But my honeymoon was different. I wanted to look just perfect for my groom.  

Having my eyelashes dyed seemed to be the answer. It's great. They simply dye them black and therefore, you appear to have mascara on without having to apply even a dab.  It is super cheap, $10-$15, and leaves you with smudgeless eyes for weeks!

As I entered the spa, I became engulfed in the tranquility.  

This was just what I needed. 

In the midst of last minute details, I could use some pampering.  

I was in for a treat.  

The sweet woman who assisted me, flattered me with talk of the upcoming event. 

While laying on my back with my eyes lazily closed, we chatted on and off and I listened to the elevator music that faintly played in the background.

I felt the hot wax smooth across my brows and my thoughts drifted off.  

"What color dye do you prefer? Maybe a light brown?" she asked.  

"No. Let's go with black." I replied

Again, for those of us who are blonde, it is recommended to use a dark brown mascara instead of black. Dark brown colors are dark enough, but not as 'raccoon-like' as black. But for the honeymoon, I knew I would rarely, if ever, be waring make-up so I wanted something a little darker.

With hesitation in her voice, she shyly answered me with an okay?!.

Back to relaxation.

Within 15 minutes she proceeded to tell me she was finished.

"Did you already do my eyelashes?" I asked with eyes still tightly shut. I had not felt her touch my eyelashes, but then again, I was quite relaxed. 

"Your eyelashes?" 

"Yes, did you already dye my eyelashes?"

"I have down here that you wanted your eyebrows waxed and your..."she paused..."oh no! I misread my order!!!  I thought you wanted your eyebrows waxed and dyed." she apologetically said.

I sprung off of the table. 

Forget the music, forget the tranquility. 

That *blasted* woman had dyed my eyebrows BLACK!

Not only had she done that (and who in their right mind would ever do such a thing), but it was 2 days before I was supposed to be a beautiful bride.

Holy Cow!!!

As I looked in the mirror, I shuttered at the person staring back at me. 

I looked fretful. 

My blonde hair glistened as my BLACK eyebrows glared back at me.

Oddly enough, all I could do was laugh. 

Don't they say everyone has to have something to this nature happen before a wedding? As I lay back down to have my eyelashes dyed, I could only imagine Brad's expression as I walked down the aisle. 

I told her I would go home and scrub my eyebrows and she agreed that if they weren't much better by the following day, we would re-dye them a lighter shade of brown.

After pulling up at my parents house, I was greeted by my (at the time) 7 year old cousin. He took one look at me, stepped back and so gently stated "What happened to you? You look like a freaky clown!" 

~you've gotta love the honesty of kids~

At the time, taking a picture seemed so unfitting, but looking back I desperately wish I had one on file. 

Needless to say, I wore a baseball cap for 24 hours and scrubbed that black dye with every ounce of energy in me.

I ended back at the spa the following day and was quite impressed with the outcome.

Moral of the story: there is a BIG difference between eyelashes and eyebrows. If you choose to be a make-up artist, learn one from the other!

 

We had a wonderful week in Maui, all the excitement was definitely worth it! 

Here's to Happy Honeymooners!!!

Ten Toodles

Let me start by saying that the only reason I am writing a post is because I am ready to see something a little more cheerful when I open my blog. Due to that insincere reason, I actually have very little to say. I do have a few fun pictures to share, but I will get to those later. For some reason, getting up out of the chair, getting the camera and downloading the new pictures seems really strenuous. 

With that said, I just thought I would give 10 facts about myself that you peeps might not know.

 Now I know what you are thinking..."Why would I want to know this," and the answer is...you probably don't. But I have nothing else.

I'm actually quite exhausted right now and should probably be sleeping. 

You may begin to notice that when I get tired, I ramble!

Onto the facts:

1. I love the smell of skunks! Truly I do. I cannot explain why, I guess the Lord just tuned my nose to those black and white creatures. The only reasoning I can conjure up is that it reminds me of a time when I was young and my entire family went on a ski trip.  The condo in which we stayed housed a spraying skunk underneath. Maybe the smell triggers a special "I love great memories with my family" place in my brain. I've met one other person in my life who had the same skunk-love and she was one of the neatest people I've ever known. So, after meeting my nose-mate, I didn't feel like such a quack!

2. I am unbelievably indecisive! Wait. No I'm not. I mean, yes I am. NO, I'm not. YES, YES, YES I am...final answer.  It causes many of those closest to me a great deal of frustration, but again, just the way God made me. I have this "every minute decision has lasting effects, therefore I must always make the BEST decision" complex. What side should we have for dinner? Asparagus or green beans? Which color shirt should I buy? Hang the picture at this height or that? It's even to the extent that I honestly analyze the order in which I wash my color-coordinated loads of laundry! I know,pathetic! My brain, oh the spinning wheels. No wonder I'm exhausted.

On a positive note, my husband is very decisive.  I'll add that to my list of reasons why I love him. 

3. I do not like hyenas.  I've never actually seen a live one, but after The Lion King I was apprehensive of the devilish creatures.  Then, the trip to Gander Mountain sealed the deal. One glance at the awful, awful stuffed hyena and I was a gonner. Eeeek! I can't even write about it. They give me the heeby-jeebys.

4. When I was young, I thought Hollywood was going to knock on the front door of our house and insist on their need for me to be the next child star. I just knew they were out searching for me. I also thought Hollywood was a person! So, Mr. Hollywood, if you're still looking for me...I'm right here baby!

5. I can touch my top lip to my nose. Is that unique or can everyone do that? Well, even if  you can do it, I bet you cannot hold a marker in between them and write your name. Hmmm, gotcha there didn't I?

I think I'll stop there for tonight. 

If you've stuck it out until the end, I'm sure you are thanking me for sparing you the misery of 5 more. 

Or, if anyone is actually interested in what makes me so gosh-darn special I can finish the remaining 5 in the future. Doubtful though.

Maybe I'll be back with more in-depth thoughts tomorrow.

Until then...

**I almost signed my name. Then I thought "wait. you don't sign your name to a blog. or do you...I cannot remember" so I had to go look at my other entries. And the answer is no. You don't sign a blog. I warned you: Rambling**

One Small Step for a Bargainer

At what point do you cross the line from being a girl who loves a bargain, to just plain CHEAP? I am not quite sure what constitutes this crossover, but I feel I may have taken the giant, or rather small, step. 

I have yet to mention that I tutor 5 hours a week at the elementary school directly across the street from my house. When I say across the street, I mean across the street!  My short walk and few hours of work have proven to be very beneficial to my family and me. It's been a bit of extra income (and who can't use that),yet it doesn't really take any time from my kids. With the way the schedule works, most days I am gone during nap time and return home just in time for the after-nap snack. Plus I've really enjoyed putting my degree to use again, it's really great! One of the 4th graders I work with told me on my first day of meeting him that he was too good for coupons.  

Although I had never thought of it in that light, I'm sure I know many people who are too good for coupons.  I know other who just don't want to go to the trouble of coupons, however I would fall into neither category. I am NOT too good, nor too lazy for a good deal. Well, in all honesty, I am sometimes too lazy, but never too good.

My husband often rolls his eyes at my attempts to save a few dollars, but the fruit does not fall far from the tree. Those few dollars add up quickly!

With that said, I may have taken this whole 'save a penny' hope too far. 

For Christmas my mom gave me several really cute articles of clothing.  She knows me so well and of course chose things that I just loved. But at Christmas I was just 2 months post-baby. The pants fit great during the holidays, yet I was sure hopeful I still had a few pounds to shed in the weeks that followed. Rather than return the clothes immediately, I waited a little over a month to re-try them on. Just as I suspected, the pants fell right down to the floor.  

Last week Kayt and I ventured out to the store to return the clothes. After getting a fairly large sum of money, I was off to find better-fitting replacements. They were having a great sale on children's clothes and as you moms know, it's impossible to pass up great deals on cute, cute clothes for the tots.  So after several tiny outfits for the upcoming season (and a season or two down the road), I was off to the big girl section. **Side note: I got Kayt the sweetest bathing suit for her first pool adventures. It just makes me giddy!**

I found many items that would have felt right at home in my closet, but after the dressing room adventures I decided on a select few. How is it that whatever you really want seems to be missing your size? I just always take it as the Lord's way of telling me NO! I guess I don't take subtle hints well, He has to really spell things out for me!

Today I ventured back to the store to get one last shirt that I had really liked, but didn't have the refund money for. I also had a gift card to the store from my birthday. 

Okay, so I'm not only thrifty but a saver. I will save anything for just the right time. But sometimes the right time never comes and I end up being a waster. Just like all of the Dr. Pepper Smackers chapstick I got when I was younger...oh brother, I have issues.

So instead of pay for the shirt, I went in today to buy it with my gift card. And, lo and behold, EVERYTHING I had purchased only 3 days before was on SALE! Holy cow! Upon seeing this, the Thrifty Monster in me went nuts. 

So, you guessed right. I re-bought everything I had previously purchased and I fully intent to return the originals for the full price. 

There. 

I said it.

That's what I did.

I'm a little ashamed, and I'm definitely too embarrassed to tell my husband face to face (here is to happy reading Brad). I think I know his reaction. But now I'm telling the world.  I'm shedding light on my little 'issue'. 

Who knows what I'll do with the $30 I get back. 

Buy another shirt?

Give it to people with bigger 'issues' than mine?

Mail it to YOU?

Doesn't seem so bad in that case, hugh?

You draw the line, I'll take the plunge over. Just be sure and draw it front of a store with a good sale! :)

Mars vs. Venus

That's what they say right? Men are from Mars, women are from Venus.  Or something like that. Simply put, we are two very different beings with different thoughts, emotions, outlooks and desires.  Men come from Mars, women come from Venus meeting at the central planet, Earth, where we find our common ground.  Or rather spiritually, we are both created in the image of Christ displaying the vast array of qualities our father possesses.  Though sometimes I forget how different my husband and I are in our 'wiring' there have been a few instances lately that may have reminded me.  

The following events may or may not have occurred in the Ingram household.

Scenario 1: 

As the couple prepare for bed the husband states "I've worn this pair of jeans for the past 4 days."  

At that the wife's thoughts begin.  --I could have sworn I washed all jeans 2 days ago.  How could that be? I guess it's been longer, time does pass quickly in the world of laundry.  He's upset with me. I'm a terrible wife.  All I'm expected to do is take care of our home and family and I cannot even keep up with that.  Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will do all of the laundry. Oh I feel awful.--

Upon waking the following morning she's intent on getting the house in order, all of the laundry washed and becoming Susie homemaker.  As she sorts the laundry (and I must say that for 4 people there is not very much) she sees only the one pair of her husband's jeans.  The thoughts creep in --What?  I thought all of his jeans were dirty.  Well then where are they?  Ah Ha! Just as I suspected, they are hanging in his closet where I KNEW I put them 2 days ago. Did he even look? Of course not!  I knew I washed those jeans.  grumble, grumble, grumble.--

Upon his homecoming that evening the wife feels compelled to let him know his jeans were clean all along.  

So the conversation goes:

wife: Babe, all of your clean jeans have been hanging in your closet.

husband: Hugh? Yeah, I know. 

wife: I thought you didn't have any clean jeans though.

husband: Clean jeans? Yeah I do, they are in my closet.

wife: I know. That's what I'm saying. Yesterday you said you had worn your jeans for 4 days.

husband: I did.

wife: Well, why did you say that then?

husband: I was just telling you.

wife: So you wern't saying you had no clean jeans?

husband: No. I was just telling you I had worn those for 4 days.

wife: You don't think I'm a bad wife because I get behind on the laundry sometimes. You aren't upset with me?

husband: What are you talking about?

wife: Nevermind.

Maybe I, I mean the wife, should listen to what her dear husband is saying rather than what she thinks he's saying!

Scenario 2: 

After lunch the husband enters the kitchen carrying 4 broken Fossil watches (let's just say he's hard on watches). 

The husband states: "I'm going to go wash my car and mail my watches off to get them repaired. I'm just trying to do a little (remember this word) multi-tasking today."  

He leaves. 

After he's gone, the wife puts a load of clothes in the dryer so that they will be ready to fold after cleaning the kitchen and begins cleaning up lunch dishes. She puts the food away and begins to load the dishwasher while on the phone with a friend.  (Did I mention there is a baby on her hip?) As she's working she pauses to take the notepad off the refrigerator jotting down to call the garage door repair man (again) to come look at the garage door (again) which is still having issues.  While writing she makes a mental note to change the dry-erase calendar in the pantry because it is ALREADY February.  At that, she begins thinking of all the dates that have pre-planned activities.  Dentist appointments, birthdays, baby showers, the list goes on.  She finishes loading the dishwasher -all the while still carrying on an in-depth conversation with her dear friend- just in time to hear child #2 awake from a nap.  She gets him out of bed (did I mention she has a baby on her hip?), changes his diaper, and off they go to the living room to read a book.  

The husband returns home from his multi-tasking and asks what they did while he was gone, to which the wife replies "nothing really."

Which way of thinking is right? 

Neither. 

Just different. 

Might I add that this wife is absolutely crazy about her dirty jean waring, multi-tasking husband!