I Live in Micah's Truck

I know it's been a while since I have posted...we have been really busy! But this one was too good not to share.

We finally closed on our house, so for the moment we are staying in my cousin's camper behind my mom. It is a really nice camper that is brand new (thanks to Mark and Candi for trusting us enough to let us use it!) Reagan, for some reason, calls it Micah's truck. Seriously...at bedtime, she says it's time to go sleep in Micah's truck.

So, this morning, a mom walks into daycare (which thankfully Candi owns) and says to Candi, "Did you know Reagan's family was sleeping in a truck? Can't we find them some help somewhere to get them a home?"

Of course Candi burst out laughing and explained to the mom what was going on. It seems Reagan asked her son if he wanted to spend the night with her and sleep in the truck. That was one close call away from having a CPS investigation!

We really need to find a house...SOON!

Summertime...and the living is easy!

Ok - so not really! Maybe this title should say and the living is crazy. Last weekend was the first weekend the boys have actually stayed home in a while, and since school is offically out, we decided to make a day of it. We went to the zoo and had a picnic and then we went to Tiffany's house to grill and swim. We had a blast and really enjoyed our Sunday only to remember that for some crazy reason Richard and I are both working summer school which means we actually still have to wake up and go to work. What was that reason again? Oh yeah, cha-ching!

Mason is going to VBS this week at Denman Avenue. He is loving it, and I love hearing him quote scriptures to me. Connor was going to go to VBS with him, but then he decided not to go. I love the reason he gave for not going. He said, and I quote, "They might not know me there." Not, I might not know them, but they might not know him. Oh my, the things he says.

Mason is also on a newly formed select soccer team. This means that instead of playing in Lufkin every Saturday in the fall, we will be traveling to play teams from other towns. What other towns you might ask? Nacogdoches - about 25 minutes away? Nope! Oh - Tyler? About an hour away? Nope! There are good chances that the majority of his games will be 2 plus hours away! Heads up family and friends in the Houston and College Station areas - action and adventure in the form of LFC Hawk soccer will most likely be coming to a town near you! Keep your ears open for dates and times to come!! Who you might ask, was brave enough to form this new team of which I speak? Why, Richard and I of course!! We were lucky enough to find some other great coaches to help and we are hoping to have a great season, but he and the other coaches have to get a license to coach the team. Yep, that's right, the state of Texas says his four years of college and 16 hours of training each year makes him perfectly capable of coaching high school, UIL teams perfectly well, but he's not quiet certified enough to "offically" coach 10 and 11 year olds.

In other Meisel family news, Richard also has the joy this summer of getting his CDL driver's license so he can drive the school bus when his team travels to play other teams. (This would be his "big" boy team - otherwise known as his paying gig.) So that means sometimes this summer, he will take his test, get his permit, put in twenty hours of behind the wheel, take a twenty hour class to be certified to drive a bus, and become a certified bus driver for Lufkin ISD. Considering everything else we have to do this summer, this could actually possibly not only make him certified, but also certifiable.

Did I mention that we are also definitely, possibly, probably most likely, actually going to close on our house sometime in the very near future. This transaction has been in the works since February - and now it seems to be coming to fruition. That is wonderful news other than the fact that I still have no idea where we are moving to and the closing dates falls precariously close the time we will be traveling to Baltimore for a few weeks for the much needed vacation from our vacation. That's right! There is a good chance that we will leave for two to three weeks away from home without a home to be away from. (There's a toungue twister for you.)

So to sum it all up, Richard and I are both working summer school, I have several weddings to photograph, he is in the process of getting his CDLs and his coaching certification to coach youth, we should be moving shortly but we don't really know where to, and we will be driving to Baltimore to two weeks. Mason is practicing with and playing on a traveling select team coached by my wonderful husband and managed by me. Connor is being Connor which in and of itself is a wonderful but sometimes trying experience. All in all it is mounting up to one crazy summer.

And...did I mention Reagan has started dance class? OH MY!! I need a nap after just writing about it!

My Hubby's Anger Management

I should probably start this post by telling you that I am married to the most patient, most loving, most caring man in the world. When I am ready to pull my hair out at the kid's fighting, he laughs and says, "They are just being kids." When I get angry at other people's stupidity, he says, "Honey, the only person being angry at that is hurting is you." That being said, I have finally figured out what he does with all his anger that he doesn't show 95% of the time - he saves it up for the road! Yep, that's right, my husband should be the poster boy for road rage.

We were driving home from College Station last night after dropping Reagan off with Grammy for the weekend. We took in the last few innings of the Lufkin Panther baseball playoff game. We were looking forward to a kid-free weekend. We had plans to head to Shreveport for an adult weekend this afternoon. I guess what I am saying is there wasn't anything to hurry home for. We could have enjoyed the drive and scenery, but no! We were behind a few cars that were driving a little below the speed limit, and the demon showed his head. Richard was pounding on the steering wheel, yelling at the drivers, cussing about why anyone would drive 55 mph in a 65 mph zone. Then I realized...while my husband is perfect in almost every way, he might could use some anger management in this area.

What really funny is this fact just makes me love him more. I have so many faults and weaknesses, that seeing he might have one also makes me feel like we really are perfect for each other!

Off to Shreveport for a romantic weekend with my husband...wonder if he will let me drive?

Reagan's Too Honest Sometimes

When Reagan woke up this morning, I got her dressed and fixed her hair. She said, "Me got pretty hair mommy." Of course, ever the English teacher, I decided she was three now and it was time to start working on her use of the language. I said, "I have pretty hair Reagan," trying to get her to use the correct pronoun. She proceeds to say, "No mommy, you not got pretty hair." I said,"No Reagan, say, 'I have pretty hair,'." She says (are you ready for this)..."Mommy, I not suppose to lie."

Bye Mommy

My mom just picked Reagan up to take her shopping for "pretty" nail polish colors because Reagan informed her the other day that she needed better colors. When they were leaving the backyard, Reagan said, "Bye mommy." My mom told her, "Tell her see you later alligator." Reagan says, "See you ga later, later see you..." After about a minute of trying to get it right, she put her hand on her hip, cocked her head to the side, and said, "BYE MOMMY!" She then looked at my mom with a face that said, "I dare you to try to make me say that again!" She is so full of attitude already!!!

The Year of the Snake?!?

Mason and I went to the Chinese buffet down the street today - yummy! While we were eating, we noticed the placemats talked about the "year" you were born according to the Chinese calendar, and I realized I didn't even know what my animal was. I was born in 1977 - the year of - wait for it -the snake! Seriously, if anything could have been more wrong for me, I can't imagine what it is. I hate snakes. I hate snakes more than anything else in the world. I will not walk through the reptile house at the zoo and Richard has learned to warn me as soon as possible if a snake is on television or in a movie. The few times I have had to endure a snake encounter of any kind, I have woken up in the middle of the night screaming from a nightmare about snakes. In fact, Richard will never let me forget the night I woke him up in middle of the night, screaming that there were snakes under the bed and made him look under it with a flashlight before going back to sleep. Yep, I hate snakes. The idea that I was born in the year of the snake is ludacris to me. However, I hope there is something to this whole Chinese calendar thing, because according to it, my children are perfectly compatible with each other. Mason was born in the year of the dragon, Connor was born in the year of the monkey, and Reagan was born in the year of the rat. Supposedly, those three symbols are more compatible with each other than any others on the calendar. I envision many years to come with them loving each other and supporting each other through thick and then. But, then I remember that this is the same calendar that puts me in alignment with snakes and I think, "Nah, probably not going to happen!"

Along similar lines, guess what Cera killed in the backyard this afternoon - you guessed it, a snake! And guess what I, the wonderful mother that I am, did? I sent the 10 year old into the backyard to help her of course. No way I'm going anywhere near a snake. But I am pretty sure Richard will have some interesting stories to share about my dreams tonight!

The tooth fairy is a thief...

Connor lost his first tooth this weekend at his dad's house. He brought the tooth home to show it to us and finally put it under his pillow last night. He was so excited about finding money under his pillow when he woke up this morning. Here's the deal though...

It seems the tooth fairy was running a little low on funds last night, so she or he (Connor seems to believe the Rock really is the tooth fairy) seems to have broken into my purse and "borrowed" a $10 bill from inside Connor's money envelope in my purse. He would have borrowed it from my wallet, but I never have any cash. He would have borrowed it from Richard's wallet, but Richard never has any cash. He would have borrowed it from Mason's envelope, but Mason's envelope usually only has IOU's to me in it since he spends money faster than he gets it. Yeap, the only member of this family who knows how to save money and keep cash is Connor. So, the tooth fairy had to borrow $10 from Connor's stash to give Connor for his tooth. I would report this crime to the police department, but I am absolutely certain that he will return it tonight (or tomorrow, depending on how busy the ATM is tonight!)

On a side note: Inflation is more evident in the dental industry than anywhere else. When I lost my teeth, I recieved a quarter a tooth!

Connect Four

Mason took his TAKS test today, and he did awesome. He came in my classroom telling me how hard he worked and then I talked to his teacher and she said the same thing. We were really worried that he wouldn't be able to focus, but she said he was a different student - taking his time, checking his work, and working on his essay for a long time. As a reward, at school tomorrow they are having a game party. Mason started digging out games and asking me to play with him. I started giving him all the excuses that I had on standby like, tomorrow is a school day, and I need to clean the kitchen and grade papers. Then I looked at his eyes and thought about the families in Houston who lost their children to a fire at their daycare (the lady who owned the home daycare was shopping down the road when the fire started). So guess what. Tonight when I go to bed, my kitchen will be dirty and my papers won't be graded - I'm playing Connect 4! I'm also praying for peace for the families in Houston. I can't imagine dropping my children off at school and it being the last time I saw them alive.

Epiphany #2

WOW! We are watching the Oscars and Christian Bale just accepted his award. He spoke with an accent. It seriously took me a minute to realize that was his real accent, not the one he used in Batman. Then I realized that not only do Americans try to imitate foreign accents, but foreigners imitate American accents. Then I realized that people in foreign countries consider us the foreigners. Than I realized that Ephiphany #1 (see previous post) might be more true that I realized!!

Epiphany #1

After church this morning, Richard, Reagan, and I went to HEB to buy groceries. We ran through the store and filled the buggy up and made it to the checkout when Reagan said, "Gotta pottie!" So, I took her into the family restroom at the front of the store. It had the coolest new hand dryer EVER. It was a Dyson brand and you stick your hands down into it and pull them out slowly and it literally blew all the water off. Seriously, when I pulled my hands out, they were really dry. I stepped out the door and told Richard he had to see this - after all, it is the family restroom. That does mean any family members can be in it, right? Anyway, after he finished dying laughing at me, he told me at that moment he realized he really had married a country bumpkin. He said to him, my saying, "Honey, come here, you have to see this," sounded more like, "Huney, come on in here, you gotta see this here new fangled hand drying thingermajig." After I got over being mad at his laughing at me, I realized maybe I am just a little bit country, and maybe I like it that way!!

So...

It drives me crazy that my child, my intelligent, wonderful, smart, funny oldest fruit of my womb, can't do grammar for anything. Shouldn't he have learned that via osmosis while gestating inside me? Shouldn't he already know all of his comma rules? Shouldn't he be able to find a subject and a verb while blindfolded? His first writing TAKS test is next Tuesday and his teacher sent home some "extra" practice. We are going over it at the table and I am so excited to be able to help him with this because, this is "MY THING". I can't teach him to score a goal in soccer like Richard can, and I can't teach him to hunt like Cody can, and I can't teach him to play the piano like my mom can, but I can teach him how to revise and edit. I am good at it! I am darned good at it. Then we sit down at the table and read the first passage. The errors are jumping off the page at me and I am thinking, "This is a piece of cake." Then he starts trying to answer the questions and I'm like, "Seriously? You think there should be a comma between every word in that sentence?" I have failed my child in his time of need. But it was really cool when I started teaching him what I teach my students to do when they take their tests and he said, "Wow mom! You're such a better teacher than mine." Not sure if I really am, but it was wonderful to hear from him. If you think of it next Tuesday, please throw a little up for him during his test. He is really nervous and so am I.

BTW - The fact that he can't edit grammar very well doesn't mean that he isn't the smartest 10 year old on Earth - just wanted to be clear!

Runaway Notice

Connor: I am underappreciated (yes, that's the word he used)! I am running away.
Mason: Good.
Me: Please don't, that would make me sad.
Connor: Well, I'm going. Tonight after yalls all asleep, I'm outta here.
Me: Not going to happen - Cera will tell on you.
Connor: I will kick her and RUN!
Me: Are you sure about this? Do you want to run away before or after we go get pizza?
Connor: After.
Me: Before or after Sonic drinks?
Connor: After.
Me: Before or after we eat and play at the park?
Connor: Definitely after.
Mason: Runaways can't play video games.
Connor: I'm packing a charger, duh.
Me: Runaways don't have electricity to charge anything with.
Connor: Hummmm, okay - guess I will tell yall where I'm going. I'm running away to Nanny's. She has electricity!
Mason: That doesn't count.
Connor: Whatever.
Mason: Speaking of which, can I spend the night at Nanny's tonight.
Connor: Not if I'm living there.
Mason: Well I'm going to her house when I want.
Connor: Maybe it's smarter for me to stay home and you to run away!

Seriously! By this point in the conversation, I was laughing too hard to participate any longer.

Serious Thoughts

If you are reading this because you are expecting one of my funny anecdotes about our crazy family, you can stop reading now, that's not what this one is.

I have been so disconnected lately. I feel like when I am not worrying about the house selling and where we are going to be living, I am worrying about something else. I worry about the state budget cuts to public education. I worry about the federal budget and the value of the American dollar. I worry about our family's financial future. I worry about my parents financial future. I worry about a lot. I worry a lot!

Then I try to remind myself that most, if not all, of these worries are beyond my control, and as a Christian, I need to remind myself that at least something bigger than me, or the state government, or the federal government is in control. It doesn't make me stop worrying, but at least it keeps me sane.

Then I wonder what others in this crazy world, who don't believe in the higher power I do, turn to when they worry about the same things I do. Who do they put their faith in? How do they stay sane?

Then I pray for them to find the same calming presence in their lives that I have in mine.

Then I pray for my children, because I realize that is the most important thing I can do for their future.

Then I worry some more and the cycle starts over.

Not My Body

We were riding in the car this afternoon, listening to Britney Spear's "Hold It Against Me" and it got to the part, "If I said I want your body now, would you hold it against me." From the backseat I hear Connor say, "She ain't gettin my body. Pretty sure I might need it one day." Seriously? Where does he come up with these?

Oh my...

Last night I gave Reagan a bath and laid her down to bed. I then went to cleaning the house because the inspector was coming today. About thirty minutes later I heard the boys screaming like crazy. I literally walked down the hallway with dread in my heart because I knew it was something bad...and it WAS! Reagan had pooped in her pull-up and then proceed to use it to "fingerpaint". She decorated her walls, her chair, her mirror, her carpet, her pajamas, and herself - with her poop. The collage on the back of her bedroom door seriously showed her artistic side. It was beyond NASTY!!! I stripped her, gave her another bath, cleaned the walls, the door, the carpet, etc. The whole time I was just a griping at her, "Reagan, we do not play in poopoo - it is NASTY! We poopoo in the potty. Babies poopoo in their pullup!" To be really honest, I didn't always refer to the art medium as "poopoo". Yes I admit it, I said the "S***" word once or twice. I bet you would have too in my place.


It still stunk in her room, but I assumed it was just the aftermath of her destruction. I dressed her in a clean pair of pajamas and laid her down one more time. About five minutes later I heard the boys screaming again, and guess what. That little imp had "hidden" some under her Elmo and proceeded to do the whole process again. I was livid. I really don't think I have ever been that upset with one of my children in my life. This time, I spanked her hiney and she spent the whole time I was cleaning it up this time telling me, "Mommas not suppose to scare babies. You being mean, Mommy." I'm being mean? I wasn't the one who painted with poop - just saying!


After cleaning the whole room again, giving her another bath, another set of clean pajamas, and another round of yelling, she finally laid down and went to sleep.


I was still angry with her this afternoon, but then...


she walked into my bedroom while I was fixing my hair and asked, "Mommy, will you give me pretty curls like your pretty hair?" And my heart melted. What poopoo incident? It's like it never happened, but I still can't wait to tell the first boy she brings home from college all about it!

Downsizing

So, not sure this post is going to be as entertaining as others. Sometimes, I just don't feel funny and this is definitely one of those times. Baring the buyers house not selling (which we have been assured is definitely happening) and the home inspection, we have sold our house. I keep referring to us as "homeless" and Richard keeps telling me I am being melodramatic; however, I disagree. I think it is completely justified of me to feel homeless since I have no idea where we are moving when we are no longer the owners of this house. We have considered many options like renting a house or an apartment or buying another home. We have definitely ruled out buying again because we just aren't sure where we want to buy. It seems foolish to buy a house that we might not want to live in in two years when we want to move to another town. But, renting seems really foolish to us also because it feels like we are flushing money down the drain. Plus, most of the rent houses we have found only have about 1200 -1400 square feet and cost around $1000. We are leaning toward our third option - using cash to buy a mobile home and live behind my mother for a while. That way we don't have a mortgage or rent and can save a lot of money. Once we decide where we want to settle for an extended period of time, we can resell the mobile home and get some of our money out of it. The logical part of me understands the opportunity and common sensibility of this plan, but the "big girl" part of me feels like I am moving backward instead of forward. I guess I am having a hard time seeing the far future for the shade created by the near one. I keep telling myself I can do anything for 18 months or so, and in the end we will a large amount of liquid cash available to buy or build a dream home, but in that 18 months the five of us plus Cera will be seriously making some sacrifices. Are they worth it? Can we do? Just how much do we really like each other? Guess we might find out!!

Sabotage

It would appear that Reagan has a plan to sabotage the sell of our house. The realtor brought the contract by Saturday morning and left it for us to sign and return to her office on Monday. So Saturday morning we get the contract in hand and Saturday afternoon Reagan went into action. She was coloring using the cool crayons made for coloring on the glass door, when I turned my back for two minutes and she took off to her room with the crayons. In a matter of moment, she managed to color three walls in her room, the door, her chair, her mirror, and the walls in the hallway and den on the way. I guess the new color on the walls didn't blend in with the carpet, because then she colored large red stripes on the carpet too. After cleaning this mess up as best we could and reminding ourselves we took the lesser bid because the buyers are planning on replacing the carpet, we settled down and decided it wasn't that bad. We then realized Reagan had been quiet for a few minutes too long. At this point we realized she wasn't in her room, but in ours. She had played in my makeup using my mascara as a crayon and flushed many a sunder items down the toilet. I say many a sunder because the plumber hasn't come out yet to get most of them out of the toilet that would not flush at this moment if life depended on it. We did manage to fish out two of my headbands, one of my small trinket boxes that did contain all of my stud earrings (but no longer does as they are still missing), shoe laces, and my favorite lipstick (no, I didn't try to salvage it, although I was tempted to - it cost $11)! Still unaccounted for and assumed lodged in the pipes somewhere is my concealer and my purple amethyst ring that bought for myself as a present when I graduated with my bachelor's degree. Seriously? What did Richard do as a child for me to deserve this? I know it wasn't anything I did! I know I'm not paying for my raising, so I must be paying for his.

Plumber comes tomorrow - can't wait to see if he can retrieve my ring!

Big Change

Wow! That's about all I can say about what has been happening in our lives lately. Sometimes God sends you a message, sometimes God gives you a slap, and I guess sometimes he just punches you in the face. For a while now Richard and I have been contemplating moving, but the mortgage and house note looming over our heads in the present economy has always pushed the idea from our heads pretty quickly. We love our house and we love Lufkin, but we aren't really sure it's where we see ourselves five years from now; however, we probably paid a little too much for our house five years ago before the economy crashed. That being said, I could not believe my ears when I answered the phone Wednesday afternoon at 2:00. I didn't recognize the number, so I am really surprised I even answered the phone, and even more surprised about the conversation.

Her: Emily, this is _____________, the realtor who sold you your house five years ago.
Me: Yes. I remember you. What's up.
Her: Well, the people who owned you house previously just walked in my office and want their house back.
Me: Did you tell them it's not really theirs anymore?
Her: Yes, but they said they want their house back and wanted me to make it happen.

Fastforward 48 hours and we are extremely close to signing a contract on our house. Seriously?!? In this economy and this housing market, we are selling our house without even putting a sign in our yard. No open houses. No random walk throughs. No trying to keep a house showing ready with three kids and a dog. And, we are actually making money. I know this sounds too good to be true, and I am still holding my breathe, waiting for the next shoe to drop, but we have chosen to believe this is God's way of saying it's time for a change. Now for the Q&A I have been facing lately.

Q: Where are ya'll going to live?
A: I have no idea.
Q: Does this mean ya'll are leaving Lufkin?
A: I have no idea.
Q: Have you throught this through?
A: Of course not, it only happened 48 hours ago.
Q: What are you thinking?
A: I am thinking anything I own but for my children is for sale, and they are available for rent at the right price.

When you are standing in the school library and receive a phone call that the want the house, God is sending a message. When thirty minutes later you find out someone you know has a rent house just sitting there waiting for you if you need it, God is slapping. And when 15 minutes later you are being given 25 good, sturdy, cardboard moving boxes, God is punching you in the face.

Of course that other shoe could drop at any minute, but I guess that will be a sign from God too since we are putting this in his hands.