Random...

No idea why my daughter looks totally stoned here, but I like the picture anyway.

Noelle took Dylan skating as a birthday treat.  They had a great time, and he took a 3 hour nap afterwards!

A party at the childrens' centre, with my little tiger and butterfly.  Oh, and Artie.  He's the one with the long neck.

So grown up now...

Today was Dylan's first day of all-day school.  We took him over for 8:50am and picked him up at 3:15pm.  He had such a good time--he woke up at his usual 6am and got himself dressed in his uniform.  Martin did his packed lunch at 6:30.  When I got up at 7:15, he was ready to go.

After we dropped him off, Martin and I took Edith shopping.

We had a delightful day.  It was so quiet in the house, and I remembered how much easier it is to only have one child at home.  When Martin got home, the house was immaculate, the laundry was caught up, my hair and make-up were done, and Edith had been reading a book instead of watching telly.

Don't get me wrong--we missed Dylan.  From here on out, Dylan will only spend about 5 waking hours a day at home with me and Martin.  That's terrifying to me, that I am trusting the school system to teach him and take care of him that much.  I can actually see why so many parents choose to home-school their kids.  I would never do it, but I can understand it.  I'm just going to have to make every moment count.

Edith and I are going to have a good time together.  She will finally get the one-on-one attention she's never had.  At least until April, when she'll get her 3 year funding and start going to nursery for 15 hours a week.  Then I'll probably have to get a job. 

Pants!

How strange, that if we were in the U.S. right now, Dylan wouldn't be in school at all.  He loves it so much, and was completely ready to go.  Edith is already excited to go to school, as well.  I wonder how much of that is because of their nature and how much is because of the school system over here.

And speaking of precocious children, Edith is now potty trained.  She is still sleeping in a pull-up, but she is actually dry most mornings already.  It took approximately 3 days to potty train her, but I didn't want to post about it in case I jinxed the whole thing.  I will probably only need to buy one more pack of pull-ups, and then we will be done with diapers.

I am so proud of how grown up my children are.  They just get more wonderful with each passing day.

Having just said that, I'm pretty sure tomorrow will be a bad day and I'll wish I could take it all back.

Manic!

We've had the most insane week ever.

Martin had the week off, we went on holiday, and did DIY in preparation for a house viewing today.  It doesn't sound very busy, does it?  But the holiday was a camping one, and the DIY involved plastering and painting the stairwells and landings, the fireplace in the dining room, one wall in the bathroom, and a wall and part of the ceiling in the kitchen.

First of all, we had some insanity and a totally wasted day trying to get an air compressor to machine plaster our walls.  To make a very long story short, Martin started out at 10am and drove all over Hull and Scunthorpe, making multiple purchases and returns, only to find out at 6pm that his dad had an air compressor sitting at home in his garage.  It was a bad day for everyone.

Wednesday involved the actual plastering--or most of it anyway--and having our home teachers and my book club ladies over.  That was stressful, too.  We had to do some hard work, followed by enough cleaning to have company over.  We probably should have kept working, in hindsight.  Oh well--Martin got to go to the cinema and I had a great visit with the book club.  We'd read Amy Chua's "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother," and the discussion was interesting.

Thursday morning (after some frustrating last minute packing) we headed out in the car for our holiday destination--Norfolk.  We stayed just outside a village called Wells-next-the-sea, which was charming and lovely.  I'll write more about our Norfolk adventures later, as I need some time to do them justice.  For now, I will just say that I found Norfolk wonderful in every way.  Far superior to Lincolnshire, which is really saying something, considering how much I love my home here.

Anyway, we came home on Saturday and have been working on the house ever since.  Well, except for Sunday night when the Mundays came over.  We had a great visit.  Yesterday was especially productive, with several ongoing projects being finished. 

Martin is back at work in 2 1/2 hours, so now I have to clean everything for the viewing by myself.  But I have quite a while to do it, so it's ok.  A big job, considering all the plaster dust I've got to clean up, but manageable.

I hope this viewing is the one that sells the house, but if it doesn't that's ok with me.  The house is starting to look really lovely.  In fact, I'd almost hate to sell it after all the work we've put in.

Almost!

Fingers crossed, everyone...

Birthday boy...

My baby is 4 years old--I can hardly believe it!

Dylan celebrated his birthday on Monday, and it was a great day for everyone.  He started it out by opening his presents in mom and dad's bedroom (both kids are big fans of playing on our bed), and he loved his presents.  He got a great package from his Auntie Angie and Uncle Greg (and kids) that had some lollies (opened in minutes), Spiderman socks (delighted), and 3 Power Ranger toys (took them with us in the car and played with them the whole way to Manchester AND back).  He also got a few Lego bits and pieces and some Lightening McQueen pajamas, slippers, and a dressing gown. 

It ws just cereal for breakfast, but it seems to be his favorite breakfast food.  Then we got an early start because we were meeting his grandparents and auntie and uncle at the Trafford Centre in Manchester.  Dylan had no idea where we were going, but he was pretty excited about the surprise.

The trip over was eventful.  Not in a bad way, just in an annoying way.  We left on time and were cruising along roughly 20 minutes ahead of our other party members.  Then Dylan had to pee.  In the absence of motorway services, we found a place to pull over so he could go at the side of the road.  Got back on the motorway without any problems--this time.  10 minutes later, he told us he needed to poo.  Once again, no motorway services.  So we pulled off the motorway (again).  Dylan got his trousers and pants, um, slightly dirty this time (dad needs to practice his sitting down hold).  We also couldn't get back onto the motorway and Google Maps was having issues on Martin's phone, so we ended up getting to the Trafford Centre about 15 minutes AFTER the other car.  And we decided never to give our kids Froot Shoots at the beginning of a long drive again.

Anyway, we scarfed down a quick lunch at Pizza Hut and then jogged through the mall to get to our destination in time for our timed ticket entry. 

LEGOLAND DISCOVERY CENTRE!

We walked in and Dylan gazed around with wonder and awe.  He said, "Dad, everything's made of Lego."  And Martin said, "That's because this is Legoland, Dylan."  The look on his face was totally priceless.

We spent the next 3 1/2 hours wandering around Legoland.  Both kids had so much fun.  Cathy and John weren't having quite as much fun, John having celebrated the 8-2 Manchester United win over Arsenal a bit too enthusiastically the night before (he left early for a bit of the hair of the dog...), but I think we all had a nice time.  The highlight, for me anyway, was taking him to the 4-D cinema for the short Bob the Builder show.  Dylan kept his 3-D goggles on the whole time, and watching him duck and swat at things was so much fun.  It even snowed (bubbles) at the end of the film.  And there was a falling birdhouse with "dust" from a smoke machine.  When that one happened, Dylan actually asked me if it had fallen on us!

He opened some more gifts at Nanna's car.  He got more Lego and a Buzz Lightyear dress-up costume.  We grabbed some dinner at McDonald's and started the drive home.  He was asleep within 15 minutes.  He slept until Leeds, where we woke him up to take him to the new Krispy Kreme doughnuts shop.  Oh yes, there's a Krispy Kreme next to Ikea.  Edith and I will be spending many a happy day over in Leeds when Dylan starts school again!

Anyway, we got home just in time to throw the kids into bed.  We were all exhausted and happy.  And when we asked Dylan if he'd had a nice birthday he said, "It was BRILLIANT!"

The best part is, some of his gifts hadn't arrived yet.  So he got to open another present yesterday (from me and Martin) and will get to open two more packages from America.  Those should get here today or tomorrow.  He gets to celebrate his birthday for a whole week!

I love taking my children to places that I know they'll enjoy.  I love watching them have a good time.  I told Dylan that my favorite part of the day had been watching him have a good time, and it was true.  I love giving them gifts, too.  I guess I just love to see them happy.

Dylan and I were talking the other day about his birthday being a special day for me, too.  I told him that it wasn't until he was born that I became a mom.  Before that, I was just Jamie.  So I thanked him for being born and making me a mommy.  And he smiled the most beautiful smile--the one that means he knows how special he is to me.  The one that means he knows his worth.

The last four years have been some of the happiest of my life!

Overkill

I know, I know.  I've already posted today.  But this is much more exciting than potty training my 2 year old. 

We seem to have acquired a cat.

It showed up this morning and was really affectionate with the kids.  He looked really hungry and he wasn't wearing a collar, so we decided to feed him some lunchmeat from the fridge.  I wanted to call him Schroedinger, but Dylan decided he looks more like a Patches.

He came back at lunch time for some more food and a few cuddles. 

He also came back at dinner time for some more of the same.

So after we finished our dinner, the kids and I went to Lidl and bought some cat food.

Just now, when I put the kids to bed, Patches wandered into their bedroom and said a quick goodnight. 

I am so torn.  I'd love the kids to have a pet, and I have always preferred cats to dogs.  But our stay here isn't permanent, and I don't want them to get attached.  Plus, I don't want an inside pet (purely for allergy reasons).  But the kids both LOVE him, and they are having such a good time playing with him and watching him.  And Patches is a really good-natured and affectionate cat--very good with the kids.

It was nice to have someone to talk to once the kids were in bed, too.

Not for the faint-hearted...

We are potty training Edith, and it is a dirty job!

It's also a huge leap of faith, and a big deal for anyone who has a weak stomach or values their carpet.

Think about it--you are taking the diaper off a very young child and trusting that they'll have the bladder control necessary to NOT wet or soil your carpet.  You're counting on someone who just BARELY learned to speak to tell you when they need to pee.  And you are preparing to scrub your floors with heavy-duty disinfectant!

Edith had her first pooping accident yesterday.  Thankfully, Martin was at home to help me deal with it.  He cleaned up the solid waste and our daughter.  I got to spray down the rug.  Martin scrubbed the carpet.  NASTY!

And, sadly, three things crossed my mind when I saw the not-so-little present Edith had left for us.  The first thing was, Oh.  $h*% (literally).  The second was, how did she ever get THAT out of her tiny bottom.  The third was, maybe I should stop giving her so much fruit for the next month.

Life gets very weird when you have children. 

Sometimes I really miss having cats.

Humber Bridge Country Park...

Brocklesby estate walk...

Sutton-on-Sea...

Normanby Hall...

Why I love England, reason #759

Yesterday we went to the dentist.  We have a big family appointment every six months with Dentist Steve over in Hessle (just outside of Hull).

Everyone was cavity free and the kids were GREAT for their checkups.  Martin and I also got a quick de-scale and polish, which I haven't had done since we moved here in 2005.  It made me think...

Dental care is not as good here as it is in the U.S.  I'm not being negative about England--just stating a fact.  Americans are notorious for being "obsessed" with teeth.  But knowing that the care is not as good has encouraged me to take better care of my teeth.  So the reason I love England is that the dental care has made me take more responsibility for myself.

Oh, and we get it for free because of our very low income.

After our dentist appointment, the kids and I dropped Martin off at the train/bus station and we went on a picnic.  I took them to the Humber Bridge Country Park, which is the park on the Yorkshire end of the Humber Bridge.  It was amazing!

The picnic was average, but I bought strawberries (which Edith ate her own weight in) and crisps (which Dylan went mad for), so the kids were happy.  Then we went for a wander and explore, because we'd never been there before.  We discovered a local nature reserve down in an old quarry site.  I have never seen anything so beautiful, mysterious, and peaceful.  I got some lovely pictures, which I will try to post later.

So that is the other reason I love England--and the one that I always come back to.  It is so beautiful here.  I want to move home more than anything, but that's only because my family is in Utah.  I would happily stay in England forever if they would just move here with me.  I love the health care system, the culture, the history, the cities, the countryside.  Man, I even love the weather.  Most of the time.

This day 4 years ago was my due-date for Dylan.  Kind of wild.  I can hardly believe it's been 4 years since then.  I remember how anxious I was to have him.  I was so heavily pregnant and miserable.  I hadn't slept properly in weeks and my whole body ached.  My ankles had disappeared.  My pelvis was seperating and rolling over in bed at night was an agonizing 5 minute process.  Dylan would get massive hiccups and I could feel his head banging against the bones in my pelvis.  I was waking up at 4am every morning to pee.  And, though I didn't know it then, I had 10 days to go.

It seems like yesterday and a decade ago all at once.  Did I ever NOT have children? 

Some excitement on the Edith front.  Yesterday she went diaper free for 2 hours with no accidents.  She finally did a proper pee on her potty, too.  Her bladder control is excellent, though she continues to show no interest in being potty trained.  She just prefers to wear diapers.  I think she is lazy and likes them for convenience.  But she also told me when she was pooping--not after, but just before and during.  It's a good sign, right?

I'm finally seeing the light at the end of my 4 year long bottom wiping tunnel, and it's looking pretty good!

The old tricks are still the best...

When Dylan was a baby, he would not sleep during the day if we were in the house.  Let me tell you, it was torture.  If I wanted him to have a nap, I had to take him for a walk or a drive.  And the second we walked through the door, he would wake up.  I was exhausted, and I never got anything done in the house.  Ever.

I tried EVERYTHING to get him to sleep.  And I got so tired of people saying, "Well, have you tried ...(fill in the most obvious solution here)?"

So one day when I bumped into an old co-worker of Martin's, I nearly shut out her suggestion.  But it was something I'd never tried before and it was worth a shot.  She said, "Have you tried lying down with him when you put him down for a nap?"

I tried it.

It worked.

Life became much more restful and I became a much better mother and nicer person.

Last night, Martin took Dylan to a football match.  It was Leeds v. Hull at Elland Road, and kick-off was 7:45pm.  We told Dylan that he could only go if he promised to have a nap the next day.  The kid wakes up at the same time every morning, regardless of what time he got to sleep.  He promised, but went back on it today.  So I tried the old trick from when he was a baby.

He fell asleep in my arms.

That was nearly 2 hours ago.

It was beautiful.

With friends like these...

...who needs enemies. 

No clever puns or plays on words.  Just that.

I think I have a "frenemy," and I have been reminded over the last few days why I always preferred to have male friends.

This friend of mine always makes me feel like a bad person when I talk to her.  And it always has to be me who contacts her.  She humiliates me on public forums (like Facebook--not private messages, but on her Wall).  She told me that she'd seen my husband cheating on me. 

So why do we stay friends?  I really like hanging out with her.  She's fun, smart, witty, and intelligent.  Once upon a time, we were really good friends.

Or maybe I just don't want to admit that my initial judgment of her could have been so wrong.

I can't stand "girl games."  I've never been able to.  Even Martin was surprised by the way that I don't do passive-aggressive guilt tripping and barbed compliments.  For the longest time, he would assume that I was playing little mind games with him.  But I say what I mean, and I mean what I say--and I assume that other people do the same.  This is a good thing, but it's left me ill-equipped when it comes to dealing with people who DO like to play games. 

I don't understand why you'd even remain "friends," whether on Facebook or in real life, with someone you didn't like.  If she doesn't like me, she should just tell me so, un-friend me, and move on.  It would be an easy thing to delete her mobile number from my contacts.  I have a very busy (if somewhat dull) life and wouldn't miss the barbed compliments, accusations of nastiness, public humiliation, highlighting of character flaws, and lies about my husband's fidelity.

Why are women so horrible to other women?

On the flip side, I had a lovely couple of girlie hours with Emma today (so now you know it's not her)!  The kids went to Hall Farm with their grandparents, so Emma and I had a garra fish pedicure, shopped at the local charity shops, and got some lunch.  She reminded me of why it's nice to have girlfriends.  She is such a lovely person--a genuinely kind, caring woman who I really admire.

Obviously, though, I like my "frenemy" as well.  Otherwise, what she said wouldn't bother me.  Because, quite honestly, I don't give a toss what most people think of me.  Just the ones I care about.

Ugh.  The politics of friendship are so complicated.  It makes me just want to lock my door and only hang out with my children.  They are so simple and honest.  They don't have any ridiculous social filters yet, and they ALWAYS tell the truth.

Knights and fairy princesses...

Stupid lungs...

I'm recovering now from a nearly 4 week long bout with cold, asthma, and, as diagnosed on Tuesday, bronchitis.  Thank heaven for antibiotics!

Generally speaking, I am a very healthy person.  Carrying a few extra pounds, yes, but quite healthy.  It's always my lungs that let me down.  If I get any sort of illness that involves my respiratory system, my asthma flares up.  Then my immune system becomes weak, and before you can say "bunch of munchy crunchy carrots," I have a chest infection of some kind. 

I mean, seriously, 4 weeks of illness because of a stupid summer cold?

Martin has been great, though.  Yesterday he took the morning off.  He couldn't take care of me, but he did the next best thing.  He took the kids out to the Deep so the only person I had to take care of was me. 

The kids have been little troopers.  They've been patient and well behaved--especially Dylan.  He is so understanding when I'm ill, and he steps up his game to help me.  Obviously, he has his slip-ups (he's a bit of a nightmare right before bed), but that's only when he's tired.

Tonight when I put the kids to bed, I had one of those moments.  You know the ones--when you love your children so much that it feels like your heart can't be contained in your chest any more.  There is so much love that you are going to explode with it.  And you let it spill out in hugs, kisses, and a few choked back tears.

Dylan's learning to vacuum!

He was so excited when I told him I'd teach him how to vacuum.  I hope this enthusiasm for housework lingers long enough for him to actually get good at it!

The first blackberries of the season...

What we've done this week:

Monday:  Lunch at Pizza Hut, trip to the cinema to see Cars 2 (Dad came with us, it was nice)

Tuesday:  Kids went to Dads' Group and we picked plums & blackberries at Water's Edge.

Wednesday:  Picnic and play at Normanby Hall.

Thursday:  Nerf gun war at Playtowers in Cleethorpes (Lewis's party).

Friday:  Baked cookies with Noelle.  Butterfly and bear ones with pink, purple, yellow and turquoise blue icing!

Saturday:  Nothing, and it was really nice!

I'm going to be happy to have Dylan back at school just so I don't have to be the activities co-ordinator any more.  I need some good ideas!

Next week (please help me fill in the blanks):

Monday:  Either Sutton or Cleethorpes beach or Doncaster Dome (weather dependent).

Tuesday:  Iceskating for Dylan and swimming for Edith in Sheffield.

Wednesday:

Thursday:  A ramble throughTwigmoore woods.

Friday:  Feeding the animals and playing on the playground at the Pink Pig Farm.

Saturday:

I don't know how my U.S. family do it, with three months of summer.  I'm struggling to fill 6 weeks!  Of course, we could always stay home.  But I feel so guilty if I don't take the kids somewhere to do something fun--like I'm wasting Dylan's summer holiday.  Plus, Dylan starts to go a little bit stir-crazy and then he picks on his sister.

I really need a bigger back garden.

Having said that, I'm still enjoying having the time with my son.  Just 4 more weeks until he is at school all day long.  My baby, gone for 6 1/2 hours a day.  It's gonna be weird with just me and Edith rattling around in this big old house.  Weird, but nice.

Now, some more pictures of our summer fun:

Doing a bit of baking at Eureka!

We got to see how a toilet works!

Craft time.

In a giant honeycomb--couple of busy bees!

Summer fun...

So it's just over a week into Dylan's summer holiday, and we are having a good time!

Today I didn't really feel up to a lot of "fun," so I left it all to Martin and our local Dads' Group.  But I did take Dylith down to Water's Edge to pick wild plums for dessert.  That was really nice.

We had a good weekend, as well.  On Saturday I let Dylan decide what we did.  He chose the 20/21 Gallery in Scunthorpe, and we had a lovely time playing on the "touch and feel" exhibit.

They were especially cute playing dress-up and knights and fairy princesses together.

We popped in to Primark afterwards, and the kids tried on hats.  I had to put this picture up because, well, WOW!  Dylan is just so beautiful...

On routines...

The kids and I have been in a routine for over three years.  Dylan since he was around 6 months old, Edith pretty much since birth.  And it's been nice, too.  It's good to know that the kids will eat at regular times and go to bed without too much of a fuss.  It's been almost crucial to my sanity at times, knowing when they would be asleep and for how long, too.

But the kids are a little bit older now, and I'm learning to relax that routine just a little bit.  Part of me is really afraid to do it, because I'm worried that they will stop being such good sleepers and eaters.  But so far, so good.  Last night, we went and picked wild plums for dessert after we finished our dinner.  We got home too late to bathe, but the kids watched bedtime cartoons and went up to bed like little angels.  And on Thursday they are going to have a really late night, but I know that they will sleep in the car on the way home and they will be more than happy to crawl into bed when we get home.

Of course, life is changing now.  Dylan will be going to school full-time in September and it will just be me and Edith all day long.  And the summer holiday is shaking things up as well.  My rigid parenting has had to relax.  It's not a bad thing.  But my system has worked for nearly 4 years, and changing it now is a little bit terrifying.

Speaking of change and terrifying, I had a night out for the first time in nearly 3 years.  On Saturday I went out with my friend Sammi, her boyfriend Sam, and her friend Dan to a nightclub in Hull called Spiders.  I was really nervous about it.  Mostly worried that I would be the oldest one there (I wasn't) and that I would look like a frumpy old housewife (I didn't, if the two lesbians who hit on me are any indication).  It's a metal club, so it wasn't my kind of music and it was a bit of (sub)culture shock.  But I had a really good time.  I've never seen that many silly men and boys playing air guitar in one place before.  And I've decided that it might be a good thing for me to go out a bit more often.  I shouldn't be such a shut-in. 

Emma, let's go have a girls' night once every six weeks or so.  Whadda ya say?

It was very weird to get all dolled up for a night out without my husband.  VERY weird.

Anyway, we're taking the kids to get haircuts and then we're off for a picnic at Normanby Hall.  Time to get this show on the road.

Here's to doing new and exciting things!

Guess what?

I've always thought I was more of a school-time mom.  I like having Dylan at school and Edith napping, because it gives me some time to myself.  But today is day 4 of the summer holidays, and I'm really enjoying it so far.  Having Dylan home is actually pretty fun.

Maybe it's more the freedom of not being tied to the school run.  We don't have to stick to such a rigid schedule right now.  If lunch is ready 20 minutes later than normal, it's no big deal.  If Edith sleeps a little bit later than usual, I don't have to wake her up to go gt Dylan from school.  We can skip naps altogether and go do something fun, like we did yesterday. 

Here's what we've done so far:

Monday--not a really fun one for the kids.  Martin went golfing.  I went visiting teaching.  We prepared for the Stables staff barbeque.

Tuesday--took the kids swimming at the new leisure centre in Scunthorpe.

Wednesday--went to the park in Goxhill.

And today--Noelle is coming over and we are going to bake cookies.

We've not got any plans for Frieday yet, but I'm thinking it might involve a train journey to the seaside.  The kids both love trains, and Dylan loves the beach, but it depends on when the tide is in.  So it could be fish and chips and a paddle in the North Sea, could be something else.

Saturday will most likely be a trip to McDonalds and the 20/21 art gallery in Scunthorpe.

Poor Martin.  He's seeing even less of the kids because we're out doing fun stuff when he's home on his break.  But I'm tired of not doing anything just because of his job.  So we are gallivanting around and leaving him alone with the Wii.

It looks like it's going to be a fun, busy, and exhausting summer!

Take me out to the ball game...

Martin didn't play baseball all last summer, and I promised him he could play a few games this summer.  We didn't have too many church commitments and it was a home game, so we went yesterday.

We had so much gear that it looked like we were staying for a week.  We took snacks, drinks, a tent, blankets, umbrellas, etc.

My-oh-my, the kids LOVED the tent!

Martin and I got a rare photo of the two of us together.  We pretended to like each other.

It really seems like we had a good time, doesn't it?

It was fun, for a time.  Then Edith got tired, it rained, she got her Welly boots muddy, took them off, and got her socks wet.  She freaked out about her wet socks, refused to put her boots on, wouldn't take a nap, and just generally made everyone miserable.

Dylan was good, though.

Now Martin is hobbling around the house like an old man because he used some muscles that haven't been vigorously exercised for quite some time.  But if he has a sports-related injury he's not allowed to complain about it.  I figure it's self-inflicted, so he gets no sympathy.  He's in pain, but he's happy.

An unexpected windfall...

We helped clean the church last Saturday.  Kind of a big ask when Martin works a 14 hour day on Saturday and I am on my own with the kids all day long, but we sucked it up and did it.  And what do you know--we got blessings!

Of course, you expect good things to happen to you when you do good.  Even if you don't believe in God and blessings, most people believe in karma.  Or, at the very least, enjoy that buzz you get when you know you did something good.  But we were rewarded immediately.

I came home with a giant bag of old curtains and sheets that someone was getting rid of.

Now I know that doesn't sound very exciting to most people, but I have been searching the charity shops for just those very items.  I have been wanting them to make rag rugs, which we are in desperate need of since we did the tiling.  The stone floors are really lovely, but VERY hard.  Unfortunately, an old pair of curtains runs about £6 and sheets are about £4.  Cost prohibitive when you need about 6 sheets or two pair of curtains to make a decent sized rug.  So when I got this big bag of old fabric, I was beyond thrilled.  In fact, I've already nearly finished a rug.  It's beautiful, and it will be a reminder every time I look at it that good things happen when you do what you ought to do.

In other news, our car insurance company has decided to write off our car.

About three weeks ago, I nearly tore the bumper off.  I cried.  We debated whether or not to put a claim in to our insurance company, since it was all my fault and there was nobody else involved--just me and the strip of metal on the side of a gate post.  But we have full coverage on our car and the deductible is only £100.  Sadly, the car will cost more to fix than it is worth.  Happily, the market value of the car is £1575 (remember, we paid £800 for it).  We found someone in town who will fix the damage for about £500, and the insurance company will sell us back the car for the amount that they could get for scrappage, and we can take the rest of the cash at market value and do what we like with the money.  We have decided to do that, and then take the money to repair the car.  We both really like it!  Then we will put the money into our savings account so it's there just in case we have any expensive car repairs in the future.

I probably should have blogged about the car accident before now, but I was so embarrassed that I did it.  It's always been Martin who destroyed our cars in the past.  He was pretty mad at me when I did it, but it was on a Sunday and he'd just got done teaching a Primary lesson about forgiveness.  Lucky for me, huh?

Anyway, I can't wait to get the car fixed.  And I'm going to see about getting an eye test and maybe some new glasses.  I think my depth perception is a little bit off.  Either that or I REALLY shouldn't drive if I'm even a little bit tired.  But that would be bad news, because I'd never be able to go anywhere!

Medical news...

As suspected, Edith officially does NOT have von Willebrand's disease.

Just thought I'd let everybody know.

Oh, and by the way, she loves to shop!

A few of my favorite things--in the garden...

This is my favorite!

Housework...

We lived with this mess for a few days, but it has to get worse before it can get better--right?

Totally worth it!

Bizarrely, this is my favorite part of the whole tiling job.  The tiny step up from the piano room into the kitchen used to be broken, exposed concrete.  Now it is a lovely little tiled step, and it looks immeasurably better.

Dining room is next.  Ugh--I'm really not looking forward to the work and mess involved there.  But the tiles look so beautiful.

They are travertine, a form of limestone.  The best bit is, it was nearly free.  We saved our Tesco clubcard vouchers and traded them in for triple their value at Topps Tiles.  And the travertine tiles, along with being my favorite tiles in the place, were cheaper than ceramic.  I'm all about natural materials.

A (parenting) match made in heaven...

Dylan is a cute kid, but he could really be a nightmare if I'd let him.

I am not a super-mom.  I make mistakes, and plenty of them.  But there is one thing that I always do right, no matter what.  I say what I mean and I mean what I say.  From day one with my children I have tried my hardest to be consistent in both praise and punishment.  And I have never backed down from a punishment I have threatened, even when it ends up making things harder for me.

My son is fond of testing his boundaries.  He likes to push his limits to find out just what he can get away with.  And I won't let him get away with anything.  Because if I let him, he would be completely out of control.

I guess what I'm saying is, I may not be the best mother in the world, but I am the best mother in the world for HIM.

I have a sneaking suspicion that Edith will be the same way, though she is still a bit more biddable than he is.  Wow, things are NOT going to be fun at my house in about 10 years.

A pleasant surprise...

Martin finally took the hideous gas heater out of the dining room.  I've been wanting it gone for about 3 years, and it only took 15 minutes to get it done.  And, when we took it off, we discovered that opening up the fireplace was going to be a much easier job than we thought.

The people who installed the heater (which my dad tells me is a non-vented heater) didn't even bother blocking up the fireplace.  They just put up some truly hideous brick, installed some faux hearthstones, and whacked the heater on top.  So we already have an open fireplace.  We just need to chip out the ugly old bricks and install the fire surround we have out in the back garden (Martin bought it off somebody for about £20, and it's a cast iron fire surround!).  Oh, and have the chimney swept, but apparently that only costs about a tenner to have done.  We will have a proper fireplace in our dining room, which I am pretty jazzed about.  Now we will just have to find a source for firewood.  Martin's parents use coal in their fireplace, but I much prefer a wood fire.  And I'll have to learn about proper fireplace maintenance, as well.

There's something kind of primitave about having an open fire in the house that really appeals to me.  And it's in the back room of the oldest part of the house, so it's a massive fireplace that was probably used for cooking on at one point.  Nice to know that if the world as we know it ended tomorrow, I would be able to do some cooking for the family in our house.

I sort of like to think about that sometimes.  What would we do if civilization as we know it ended tomorrow and we were thrown back to the middle ages?  I'm a total freak about post-apocalyptic fiction and am (slightly) obsessed with learning how to do things like hand sewing, mending, preserving food, gardening, etc.  Just in case, you know?  A little bit crazy, but part of my charm.

This doesn't happen very often...

Sunday was a rough day for me.  I'd been sick all week and taking care of the kids by myself.  I hadn't had much sleep the night before.  In my tired and weakened state, I went to a Sunday School lesson about Christ in the garden of Gethsemane and I was a little bit emotional.

We read one of my favorite scriptures of all time:  Luke 22: 41-42

And he was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast, and kneeled down, and prayed,



Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.

It took me back to a time when I relied on this scripture a lot.

It seems like forever ago, but it's only been 7 years.  After 2 years of trying to conceive and feeling like a failure as a woman, I got pregnant.  It was one of the happiest days of my life, and from the second I found out about the pregnancy, it was a baby.  No blastocyte, embryo or fetus.  Baby.

I kept my news to myself until I was 10 weeks, and just two days before my first doctor's appointment I finally told a few family members.  Then I went to see my doctor and he did a dating ultrasound.  I will remember that moment for the rest of my life, because my womb was completely empty.  I felt like my heart was ripped out of my body.

Turns out that it was an ectopic pregnancy.  And in my case, the doctor believed that my body had already miscarried but some of the tissue was attached to my fallopian tube and was still growing.  I didn't have to have surgery, but I did need to have a "termination."

So a few days later, once we had confirmed that there was no viable pregnancy, I drove myself down to the local cancer clinic to have the methotrexate injections that would abort my unborn child.  I remember lying in bed the night before my appointment, praying.  I wondered how I could possibly go through with it.  I begged and pleaded with God for things to be different.  I cried until I didn't have any tears left.  But I remembered that scripture in Luke, and it gave me courage and strength.  To know that Jesus, the only person to lead a sinless life, also had to do something that he didn't want to do was such a comfort.  That He had the grace to submit himself to the will of his Father was a lesson.  And actually being able to go to the clinic and have the injections felt like a miracle.  I cried the whole time, but I did it.

I still think about my almost-baby every time Dylan celebrates his birthday, and remember that I should have a child who is 2 years older.  But it is without any bitterness.  Just a little bit of sadness and regret.  Because I know that I'm not the only person to face something that seemed too hard to do.  And I know that the experience made me stronger and made me appreciate motherhood even more.

Our wonderful teacher in Sunday School apologized for pointing out Jesus' "weakness," but to me, that brief plea to do things another way if possible is one of the most beautiful parts of the atonement.  As Christians, we celebrate the divinity of Jesus Christ all the time.  But I like to dwell on his humanity every once in a while.  I love knowing that He felt exactly like I felt, because I knew that I wasn't alone on that day.

I'm still crying about it.

Domestic goddess, me?

So I was talking to my Yankee friend Amy the other day about stain removal (yes, my life really is that boring).  She said that her mother swore by pouring hot water from a height to remove fruit juice stains.  I was skeptical, but didn't say so at the time.

Well, today Edith was wearing a beautiful little sundress that Noelle made--green and white checked gingham with a halter neck and little white pockets.  We passed a cherry tree on our walk home from Dylan's school, and it had ripe cherries on it.  I gave one to Edith, and she dribbled cherry juice all down the front of herself.

Panic.

Despair.

Anger.

Idea...

When we got home, I took the dress off her and put her down for a nap.  Then I came downstairs and put the kettle on.  I took the clothes off the washing line and did a few other little jobs.  Then I held that dress over the kitchen sink, took a deep breath, fought the inner voices that were telling me to pre-treat with chemicals and NOT set the stain with heat, held the kettle about 12 inches away from the dress, and poured.

What do you know, that cherry juice came right out!

The dress is drying on the washing line, and ready for Edith to put it back on when she wakes up.

I'll have to tell Amy that her mother's tip worked a treat.

I definitely won't be avoiding conversations about stain removal, either.