the great prune escapade

The other day, my grandparents, both in their 80s,  went to the grocery store in their small town.

Nanie waited in their stylish red minivan while Papa went in to the store. “Now remember,” Nanie said, as Papa climbed out of their minivan, “Get some prunes. Be sure to get the ones that are individually wrapped and taste like candy.”

My grandparents have always been extra conscious of eating healthy foods that promote healthy bowels. Their motto is “in one’s golden years, it’s critical to have a b.m. (bowel movement) in the p.m.!”

Papa went into the little grocery store. I can just see him in his Carhart Jeans, his favorite red flannel, his very used cowboy hat, and his wallet he carries on a chain like they do in those old movies. Because of his streamlined physique, the chain on the wallet nearly drags to the ground.

Upon seeing a boxboy, Papa asked, “Do you have any prunes?”

“Yes, I’ll show you,” the boxboy said, leading Papa down the aisle with the boxed prunes.

Papa grabbed a box of prunes off the shelf. Then, taking his cute little wrinkled self through the store, he exited through the automatic door. He didn’t even pause to stop at the check stand, but walked into the parking lot and to Nanie, who was waiting in the minivan.

Meanwhile, the boxboy was in a quandary. He had followed Papa, apparently alarmed that Papa would exit the store without paying for the prunes, but unable to figure out a way to gently apprehend an adorable and innocent-looking elderly gentleman with twinkling blue eyes.

Papa walked up to the window of the passenger side of the minivan and asked Nanie to roll down the window.

Still figuring out how to use modern technology, Nanie instead opened her door.

“Are these the prunes you want?” Papa asked.

“Yes, Johnny, those are perfect.” Nanie smiled her precious Swedish smile at the thought that Papa had correctly chosen the individually wrapped prunes that tasted like candy. She was so proud of him.

“All right, then,” Papa said.

“Johnny?” asked Nanie. “Why is that boxboy across the parking lot looking at you with suspicion?”

“I have no idea,” said Papa, because he truly had no idea. “Maybe because he’s the one who helped me find the prunes.” After a pause, he added, “I’ll be right back, Ruthie.”

Papa walked back into the store, past the boxboy (without even so much as a glance), and went to the nearest check stand. Taking out some money from his wallet on a chain, he paid for the prunes. Then, walking again past the perplexed boxboy (without even so much as a glance), Papa returned to the minivan.

I love stories like these. How precious Papa is! The funniest thing of all is that Papa is a former police officer with the San Diego Police Department. He apprehended dangerous criminals on a daily basis, some who were caught stealing things much more valuable than prunes.

But Papa had no intention of taking something without paying – he’s honest to a fault and has never broken any laws in his entire life. He only wanted to ask his wife of nearly 60 years if the prunes he picked were the correct ones. He was a man on a mission to get his beloved wife her favorite healthy treat.

After all, he’d probably purchased the wrong brand in the past and after so many years of marriage, he had become a very wise man. He had learned his motto the hard way: ask first, then purchase.

Papa has since gone home to be with the Lord. Such memories as the one above truly have more meaning when someone you love is no longer here. While I am sad that he is gone, I know that someday I will see him again.

I encourage you to take a minute to appreciate the grandparents in your life. They are truly treasures, irreplaceable and precious gifts from God.

Before you go, check out these other posts:

for writers: tips, advice, and encouragement

forming your own Sisters in Christ group

mom-approved movie listing

the best county fair entry ever

lessons from the garden

the importance of avoiding false teaching

28 verses for uncertain times

the best county fair entry ever

Want a zany idea for your next county fair entry? Read on…

This world has become increasingly unrecognizable with its constant drama, stressors, and problems. As such, I started a new series a few weeks ago with some humor posts to take us away, even for a brief moment, from the seriousness of recent days.

A few weeks ago, I shared a silly blog post from the past about my experience driving “the big truck” while my SUV was in the shop. I followed it up with a goofy post about how a mom can be a successful tooth fairy.

This week, I’m digging once again into the momlife archives. Several years ago when my girls were younger, life seemed easier, more laid-back, and the world in which we lived was a kinder one.

Next week, join me for our regularly-scheduled blog posts, where I’ll be discussing how we can overcome joy zappers. Future momlife posts will be sprinkled in amongst my regular faith-based and writing posts.

And now, without further ado, I present to you the best county fair entry ever.


Our family loves to enter things in the county fair. Each year, my daughters gather homemade goodies, artwork, sewing projects, and drawings and see what ribbons they can earn for their time, effort, and creativity.

I decided to do something a bit unusual this year…

Unbeknownst to him, last year as a surprise, I entered my husband’s amazing steel cutout of an elk. I had been so impressed with what he had created out of a piece of steel, that I just knew the judges would be impressed too. Imagine his shock when we were walking through the exhibit hall and he saw his project on the table with a blue ribbon –the elk was an incredible work of art. Large and polished to a sheen, it’s metal glowed against the woodworking projects that surrounded it. Lon took one look at it and exclaimed, “That looks like that elk cutout I made. Hey, wait, that is the elk cutout I made!”

Not to be outdone by entering the elk project, this year I decided to take a little different route. Yes, this year’s county fair entry would definitely be one-of-a-kind.

One day, Lon decided to take a picture of his foot wearing his size 13, beatup tennis shoe, as though it was some shoe model for decrepit, needing-to-be-retired footwear. Wondering what I would enter in the fair that year, I found my answer when I discovered this picture on our digital camera.

Wasting no time, I rushed to the store and had the photo enlarged to a 5x7and printed it off. Then, finding a reasonably-priced plastic frame, I displayed this lovely piece of “art”. Buffing the glass of the frame to a sheen, the shoe picture was ready to enter in our county fair.

Wouldn’t Lon be so surprised when he saw his picture, one likely taken out of boredom, proudly displayed on the exhibit center wall amongst numerous other quality pieces of photography?

In today’s world, just look around and you’ll see so many varieties of “art”. I just knew this would be a hit at the fair with the judges and the attendees of the fair alike. So, with the framed shoe picture awaiting its artistic debut, my daughters and I entered the door of the exhibit hall with our box full of entries.

I choked back a snicker. It was very difficult not to laugh while unloading the entries. After all, I had to play this cool so my quest would be successful.

I gingerly unloaded the mound of fair entries. Framed photos of mountain scenes and animals, pictures the girls had drawn, and homemade baked goods soon graced the table.

I saved the best for last and did my best to keep a stoic expression. No easy task for someone who is noticing the very real effect of having permanent laugh lines. But I digress…

The entry coordinator reached for another entry card, likely assuming my next entry would be more of the same of the other dozen or so entries.

But when I placed the framed photo on the table, time seemed to stand still. I pasted on my best “isn’t this an amazing entry?” face.

I watched the entry coordinator’s face as she filled out the entry card for the shoe picture. I began to snort, chalking it up to something in my throat. I struggled to maintain my composure and keep my laughter under control. After all, who really enters a photo of a beat up tennis shoe in the local fair?

And moreover, who acts like they are super proud of such an entry?

The woman looked up at me, then back down at the shoe picture, then back up at me, and finally one last time at the shoe picture. She picked up the frame and with a look of concern mixed with disgust, added it to the pile of entered fair projects.

I somehow hoped she’d be a little more appreciative of this fine piece of art.

The following day when our family went to see what ribbons we had been awarded, the girls, sworn to secrecy, and me still attempting to be nonchalant about the whole ordeal, led Lon around the exhibit hall. The girls pointed out their pictures, and when we finally came to one in particular, Lon stopped and stared. “Pen, is that? No, it can’t be…Pen!”

I thought I would die of laughter. Then Lon began to laugh and together we gazed at the unlikely winner of a high-placing ribbon.

The moral of the story? In a world so full of busyness, it’s good to take some time out to truly laugh at the sillier side of life. God gave us the ability to laugh and the ability to take joy in even the most mundane things – even a framed picture of a tennis shoe.



Before you go, check out these other posts…

the importance of avoiding false teaching

training for the mom olympics

you might be a writer if…(10 ways to know)

leaving a godly legacy

the importance of teaching our kids to think for themselves

28 verses for uncertain times

Movie Monday: Duma

Momlife Part 2 “Adventures of the Tooth Fairy”

We live in a different world these days. Stressors that were never stressors a year ago are now commonplace.

Last week, I shared a silly blog post from the past about my experience driving “the big truck” while my SUV was in the shop. This week, I’m discussing the very real problems of being a tooth fairy.

Because we all need a break from the craziness that has enveloped us at every turn, I decided to reach back into the past and dig into the archives of momlife stories of yesterday. Several years ago when my girls were younger, life seemed easier, more laidback, and the world in which we live was a kinder one.

So, over the next several weeks, I’ll share with you some of those momlife memories – ones I wouldn’t trade for the world and ones, some of which, I’m sure you can identify with. Which begs to ask the question…how can a mom be a successful tooth fairy?


Doodle lost a tooth the other day and was thrilled that it didn’t roll down the heater vent like the last tooth, bringing a whole new meaning to “losing a tooth”. All of this losing teeth stuff reminded me of a few adventures experienced by a certain Tooth Fairy…

Once upon a time there lived a mom who doubled as a tooth fairy. She didn’t have wings and she couldn’t fly, and she was larger than the imagined “teeny-tiny Tinkerbell-like fairy”. She didn’t carry a wand and she didn’t have a stash of rolled coins at her tooth fairy cottage.

But she was a devoted, conscientious, and most-of-the-time reliable sort.

Take, for instance, last week when Doodle lost a tooth and the Tooth Fairy actually slept through the night and forgot to pay a visit. Doodle was disappointed when her tooth was still in the tooth jar and there was no money.

I’m sad to admit, this wasn’t the first time this happened. It first happened to Sunshine and she was sure to tell everyone at school the next day (note: before I homeschooled, my girls attended a small private Christian school during their elementary years) the sad tale of woe of how the Tooth Fairy had forgotten her. She seemed not to be convinced when I told her my lame excuse that the Tooth Fairy was so busy that she ran out of time since so many other children had lost teeth on the same night.

Or that the tooth fairy had taken the night off.

Or that the tooth fairy had lost her own tooth and was preoccupied.

None of these excuses worked. The following evening, she wrote the Tooth Fairy a letter about the incident, complete with an artist’s rendition of what the Tooth Fairy looked like.

Or another adventure…one night, I stumbled through the dark at 2:00 a.m. in a frenzy, thinking there were only four hours left until dawn’s daylight and I (once again) nearly forgot again to trade money for a tooth. I reached groggily into my wallet in hopes that there was actually some money in there. I grabbed out a handful of coins, deposited them into a plastic baggie and made the trade. (Hint to first time Tooth Fairies, if you place the coins in a baggie, it makes less noise and therefore doesn’t arouse suspicion in your child).

In the morning, I found out that if my children keep losing teeth, I’m going to have to take up a fund. Sunshine burst out of her room and exuberantly said, “Mom! Guess what?! The Tooth Fairy brought me $4!”

I gasped. The going rate at our house is $1, yet Sunshine had ended up with $4 and it wasn’t even a “special” tooth. In the dark, I hadn’t been paying attention that the coins I’d withdrawn from my wallet were not pennies, but quarters and dimes.

Last week, between my two kids, they lost three teeth in one week. I was running out of change and was desperate, so I did the only logical thing a Tooth Fairy can do. I zipped out to the garage at midnight and found a pile of pennies on Lon’s workbench. I scooped them up into a plastic baggie and made the trade.

The next morning, Doodle had a strange look on her face. “Mom?” She asked, “Does the Tooth Fairy work with wood?”

“What?” I asked. This for sure topped the Tooth Fairy questions.

“Does the Tooth Fairy work with wood? See, I found this wood chip in the baggie with the money.”

Apparently, a wood chip had slipped in from Lon’s workbench. An added bonus, although not too thrilling for kids.

So what about all those questions about this amazing little fairy? “Mom, what does the Tooth Fairy do with all those teeth?”

“How does she lift the tooth when she’s so small?”

“Why does she want teeth? Isn’t that kind of weird?”

“Where does she get the money?”

“How does she decide how much to give?”

“Why are some teeth worth more than others?”

“What does she look like?”

“Is she married?”

“Is there only one or is there a family of Tooth Fairies?”

And finally, “When I’m a ‘big woman’ (the term my girls use for female adults): can I meet the Tooth Fairy?” Depending on the day and whether or not I’m feeling creative, I can usually answer those questions with some degree of creative success.

Speaking of teeth, Sunshine wins the award for the most interesting ways of losing teeth. She’s pulled out a few herself, let me pull out one, and let Lon pull out one. Those are all typical ways.

Now for the atypical – she lost one tooth when she was wrestling Lon and bounced into his rock hard abs. Her tooth fell out immediately. She yanked three teeth at school of her own, plus yanked out a couple of other classmates’ teeth (with their patient and enduring permission, of course). I see dentistry in her future and a life of ease and luxury for Lon and I in our older years.

She’s lost a few biting into food, and finally, she pulled one at the dentist’s office while awaiting a teeth-cleaning appointment.

Doodle’s only lost four teeth, so I’m sure there will be some adventures of losing teeth in her future too.

Phew! Who knew that being a Tooth Fairy could be so interesting?

But isn’t it great to know that whether we are having a Tooth Fairy Adventure, settling sibling squabbles, or changing our 178th poopy diaper, God is there to help us every step of the way? He has promised He will never leave us nor forsake us, no matter what.

He gave us the blessing of our children and will equip us to raise them. What an awesome God we serve!

Before you go, check out these other posts:

58 fun activities for kids of all ages

the video camera is always on, part 2

8 things I want my daughters to know

28 verses for uncertain times

you might be a writer if…10 ways to know

the importance of teaching our kids to think for themselves

5 ways to be happier

Momlife, part 1 “The Big Truck”

Life is super serious these days. Worries we never thought we’d ever have overwhelm us as we struggle in the midst of an ever-shifting culture. A culture that’s changing…and not for the better.

We all need a break from the craziness that has enveloped us at every turn. So I decided to reach back into the past and dig into the archives of momlife stories of yesterday. Several years ago when my girls were younger, life seemed easier, more laidback, and the world in which we live was a kinder one.

In those days, things that are commonplace as of the past year were completely unheard of a little over a decade ago. We had a little more freedom, a little less chaos, and a whole lot more compassion for others. People were more honest and toilet paper, lumber, and common sense were plentiful.

So, over the next several weeks, I’ll share with you some of those momlife memories – ones I wouldn’t trade for the world and ones, some of which, I’m sure you can identify with. We’ll start off our new series with a question…

What happens when an innocent mom of two with a serious depth perception problem has to drive the big truck while her SUV is being repaired?

Enjoy…and I hope it not only brings a smile to your face, but gives you a moment of escape in these crazy times.


Once upon a time in a land not so far away…

Our SUV wouldn’t start last week. Praise the Lord it decided to conk in the garage and not on the road somewhere or at the grocery store full of kids and groceries.

So, needless to say, I spent last week driving our big pickup truck.

My husband’s diesel, his pride and joy, became my mode of transportation. Not only is it high off the ground, but it’s also LONG. This isn’t a problem for most, but for me – a person with a severe depth perception problem – this is a concern! Let me give you some background information…

I have hit three vehicles. Yes, three. Now, this might not sound too concerning until I admit that these were PARKED vehicles. Yep, they weren’t moving. I was, but they weren’t.

The first victim was when my husband, Lon, and I were dating. I had a sweet souped up old-fashioned antique 1971 Chevy Malibu that was a classic long before I drove it. He was driving his dad’s little orange Nissan pickup, nicknamed “The Puke”. He parked behind my car when he came over for a visit one evening. I didn’t realize his dad’s truck was behind me.

You can probably see where this going…

I backed up and heard a slight crunch. I didn’t see any damage, so I didn’t think anything about it until later when Lon asked if I knew anything about the green bit of paint on the front of the The Puke.

Oops.

Now, I’m a firm believer in honesty in relationships – especially those with whom you might someday marry.

So I came clean.

All these years later, I’m thankful for the forgiveness they showed me when Lon’s dad’s orange Nissan suddenly became multi-colored.

Secondly, I hit a vehicle at the bank while trying to parallel park in my black Ford T-bird about four years later. I should have known better. I was the one in Drivers Ed in high school who hit the orange cones while practicing to parallel park.

Good grief. Of course, it had to happen during rush hour. Hopefully no one else saw that old station wagon drive itself forward a few inches.

Good news, though. I don’t parallel park anymore. It’s just too difficult when objects are closer than they appear.

And then, the saddest of all. I was backing our Ford T-Bird out of our driveway and didn’t realize my green Malibu was still parked at the curb in front of our house the same year. I backed the T-Bird out and smucked the Malibu. Ouch. Two more dents. Fortunately they were VERY small dents that could be popped out.

So with this background information, you can see my apprehension at driving the big truck. This is why I normally drive a mid-size SUV with a hefty grill guard. This is also why I wear glasses when I drive. And why my girls wear protective gear.

And why it’s important for my passengers to wear seatbelts.

And why, when I’m driving the big truck, vehicles on the road in our small town part ways to allow me to pass peacefully down the middle of the road.

So on my first day of driving the big truck, my children loaded, I rode the elevator up to the driver’s side door and climbed in. As I backed the truck out of the driveway, I didn’t realize a minor detail in the way.

Okay, so it wasn’t that minor. It was a large green garbage can ready and prepared for the trash truck to empty it since it was garbage day.

“What was that noise?” I asked. (It’s hard to hear anything over a diesel).

A gasp arose from the back seat.

“Uh, Mommy, you just ran over the garbage can,” Sunshine, my oldest, told me.

“What?!” I exclaimed.

Surely not. I had checked my mirrors – had done everything right that that old Driver’s Ed instructor had taught me over a decade ago.

But sure enough, I backed up further and saw the proof. The tire tracks on the green garbage can were unmistakable. The worst part of all? It was our neighbor’s garbage can!

Thankfully, our neighbor is a forgiving soul.

And thankfully garbage cans can be replaced.

And doubly thankful for God’s mercy in all things, big and small.

So, there you have it, my experience driving the big truck. A memory forever embedded in my mind and the reason why my husband won’t buy me that big new Chevy truck I’ve been eyeballing at the dealership. The one that I can barely see over the dashboard with an attached step ladder.

But he has offered to buy me a smart car. To which I say emphatically – no thanks!!!!!

Oh, and a teeny disclaimer: the pictured truck at the beginning of this post isn’t our actual truck. Ours has a grill guard. 🙂


Before you go, check out these other posts:

training for the mom olympics

you might be a homeschool mom if…(15 clues)

the great toilet paper caper

kids write the funniest things

what’s in a name?

15 verses for strength in challenging times

10 Bible verses to start off your day

10 ways to help your kids choose good role models

Movie Monday: Fearless Faith

training for the mom Olympics

I dashed through high winds and zigzagged between the parked station wagons, Pintos, and VW Bugs, in the pursuit of a runaway cart in the grocery store parking lot.

The cart sped through the crowded parking lot and toward an intersection, attempting to mar the glossy finishes of luxury SUVs and sports cars.

And then I knew what I must do. The situation at hand had left me little choice.

I knelt down and tightened the laces on my Brooks running shoes, thankful I wasn’t wearing flip flops today.

Then, with the speed of a cheetah and the grace of a gazelle, I took off across the parking lot after the shopping cart.

My heart pounded. Would I be fast enough?

Finally, I reached for the shopping cart handle just seconds before what would have been a disastrous situation. I wiped the sweat from my brow. Another rogue cart apprehended in the name of justice!

I returned to our SUV, climbed in, and glanced into the back seat. My kids appeared in shock with mouths wide open. “Mom!” Doodle gasped. “You were amazing. You should be in the Olympics – the Mom Olympics!”

So, as of that day a few years back, I began training for the Mom Olympics. An arduous task for sure. And yes, I need a bit of help on my hurdles. Case in point: when my girls were babies, I had a wooden gate up to keep them out of my home office. One day, in my haste to get out of the room quickly, my foot caught on the top of the gate, and I landed with a thud, the air knocked completely out of me. Never have I been so thankful for these strong bones God blessed me with.

But I was not deterred. In time and with much practice, my hurdling became second nature and I was soon able to leap across toys left strewn on the floor in a single bound (Super Mom anyone?)

I closed my eyes and imagined my future self…

So when the application for the Mom Olympics arrived in the mail, I quickly listed my qualifications, beginning with past accomplishments:

  • Carrying my children everywhere when they were younger (which built strong biceps and triceps)
  • Bending and stooping to pick up the toys and food my children continually threw on the floor from their high chairs when they were babies (which built strong quad muscles)
  • Amazing overall body fitness from pushing my two children in the baby jogger up grueling hills
  • Dexterity and balance in hopping on one foot (in agony) whenever I stepped on a Lego or fossilized Cheerio left on the floor
  • The runaway cart episode, showing my aptitude for speed and finesse and the ability to react in stressful situations.

In the “current accomplishments” category, I proudly listed the highlights of the second phase of my training:

  • Totally built biceps and shoulder muscles from constantly lifting and hauling the gym bag that my kids and I share for the local gym
  • Running the kids everywhere for their activities during their tween and early teen years (built endurance as a long-distance runner)
  • Experience in juggling (juggling multiple tasks as a wife and mom)
  • A friendly competition with my oldest daughter (who is a force to be reckoned with) on the rowing machine
  • A friendly competition with my youngest daughter while running (I came in second place)

With all that practice, it didn’t take much creativity to imagine myself in an Olympic marathon. I would be competing against the fiercest of competitors, knowing that it was just a matter of time before the gold medal graced my neck.

Someday, although I’m not rushing this…I will be a grandma training for the Grandma Olympics. Until then, I am thrilled to have been approved by the Mom Olympics CEO to participate in this year’s worldwide event.


To my fellow moms who have/had a collection of shirts adorned with dried spit-up stains; who’ve won awards for the least amount of sleep while promising their infants a trip to Disneyland if they would just sleep for more than a half hour at a time; who daily risk tender toes stepping on Legos and Cheerios.

To my fellow moms who’ve spent hours upon hours on their knees praying for their kids (and still do!); to those who’ve survived the tumultuous teenage years; and to those who’ve risked their lives teaching their children how to drive.

To stay-at-home-moms, homeschool moms, work-at-home-moms, work-outside-the-home moms, foster care moms…to all moms…Happy Mother’s Day!

Being a mom is truly the best job in the world, and I’m beyond grateful God blessed me with this honor. And I’m grateful for a faithful mom who exemplified the importance of loving her family well, being kind, having a strong work ethic, and loving the Lord with all her heart. Thank you, Mom!

Happy Mother’s Day!


Before you go, check out these other posts:

the great toilet paper caper

5 things moms need

leaving a godly legacy

7 ways to encourage your children

13 verses to comfort the weary soul

21 awesome family movies you may never have heard of

6 ways to stick with homeschooling (when you want to give up)

the importance of recognizing your influence

you might be a homeschool mom if… (15 clues)

might be homeschool mom 15 clues

People joke about homeschool moms in long denim skirts, with no makeup, and hair buns with a dozen children and a van held together by duct tape. They make all meals from scratch and have three freezers each full of “make and freeze meals” as a backup.They live in the country, grow their own food, and can everything from jam to green beans.

Sure, there are many homeschool moms who fit that description, but there are also homeschool moms who wear sporty exercise clothes, have ponytails, wear makeup, and have pink glittery painted fingernails, have less than a dozen children, and drive an SUV held together by duct tape. That mom lives on the edge and never knows what’s for dinner until 15 minutes prior. She lives in a subdivision with an HOA, and her garden consists only of flowers. Canning never has been and never will be on her radar.

One of the things I love about homeschool moms is their diversity. They come in all shapes and sizes and live in a variety of neighborhoods from city apartments to farmhouses in the boonies 50 miles from the nearest town.

So, with this wide assortment of homeschool moms, how can you spot one? Or how might you give it away that you are one yourself?

You might be a homeschool mom if…

*You stalk the UPS guy each day as you patiently (or not so patiently!) await your curriculum delivery every August.

*When you go school clothes shopping, your main purchases are pajamas (for school uniforms, of course).

*Speaking of pajamas…neighbors have reported they’ve heard you joyfully exclaim, “It’s time for school! Get your jammies on!”

*Everything that happens during the day is a teaching opportunity because you think outside the box for assignments to give your kids a well-rounded education.

*You are ecstatic that your new otoscope arrived in the mail today. This will make the perfect addition to the stethoscope and oximeter you’ll use for teaching health class.

*You are just as thrilled (if not more thrilled) than your kids when you find a perfect insect specimen during a nature walk. Good thing you ordered that high-powered microscope that has been helpful for just about every scientific observation from a piece of lint to an insect leg.

*As part of their writing assignments, your kids write letters to the editor of the local newspaper on the topic of their choice. Their opinions are well-known throughout your community.

girl doing schoolwork*You use grocery shopping as an opportunity for math, menu planning, economics, and P.E. (loading bags from the store, to the car, and from the car to the house builds cardiovascular health and strength). Your children know all about pantry patrol, food organization, and cupboard stocking procedures.

*Your children have the most varied and funnest P.E. classes that include family bike rides, hiking, jumproping competitions, volleyball games, and badminton wars.

*You’ve been majorly crushing on that cute principal at your homeschool.

*Your living room hosts a permanent homemade blanket fort because that’s where your kids love to do their schoolwork.

*You are well-known and loved for all the treats your kids make in baking class and deliver to friends in the neighborhood.

baking with mom*The stares from fellow shoppers at the grocery store as you shop with your kids during the day no longer phase you and you have the entire “socialization argument” down to a science and can recite it in your sleep.

*Your kids can glance at a piece of correspondence, a newspaper article, or an online news story and pick out all the grammatical errors in 20 seconds or less. And they’ve written their own novel in a year as an English assignment.

*The librarians at the local library can see you and your “students” coming from a mile away because you’re the ones who bring a U-haul to the library to load up all the books to check out.

*Your kids are avid readers and hurry to complete their work so they can start reading through that stack of books in the U-haul from the library.

little boy readingAnd there it is in a nutshell…how to know you’re a homeschool mom!

Before you leave, check out these posts:

14 things for girls to consider before dating

outside-the-box homeschool ideas

6 ways to stick with homeschooling (when you want to give up)

12 verses to encourage the burdened heart

the importance of living out your faith

Movie Monday: Unplanned

Looking to homeschool? Here are 7 things to consider.

58 fun activities for kids of all ages

the great toilet paper caper

It was early evening when the classified documents indicated there was toilet paper to be found. Lon, a man who prided himself on providing for his family, decided he was up for the task. Sturdy, burly, and strong, he set his eye on the prize: a pack of plush tp for his family. So, climbing into the family truck nicknamed “Little Gray” (although it is brown in color), Lon zipped out of the cul-de-sac to embark on his mission.

lon tough (2)

As he drove down the main avenue to the local Walmart store, he happened to look over and see a car that reminded him of a pregnant roller skate. A man of about his age glanced over at just that same time and their eyes connected. Both accelerated.

And then Lon knew.

He was in for the race of his life.

Feeling a bit like Mario Andretti, Lon lurched Little Gray forward and stepped up his speed. He was up for the challenge.  He only wished he had added some souped up options on Little Gray. An engine tuner, a lift kit, a turbo kit, a supercharge… all would have been helpful at this time, as the pregnant roller skate threatened to overtake him.

Were it not for the 30 mph speed limit, Lon knew he would have smoked the competition.

Not to be deterred, Lon rounded the corner into the Walmart parking lot on two wheels with the speed and finesse of the expert he was. He pulled into a parking space only to find the pregnant roller skate pulled in right beside him. Lamenting that he’d worn his camo crocs instead of his running shoes, Lon leapt out of the truck and began to sprint toward the store. Those grueling hours of high school track were coming in handy as he zipped through the front doors, his competitor at his side.

“You get the call too?” his competition asked as they strode side-by-side toward the sacred toilet-paper aisle.

“Yep,” Lon replied.

They continued their race to aisle B26 “Look, man, I got a family,” the driver of the pregnant roller skate said.

“Me too.”

Lon sized up his competition. Similar height, similar build.

But he had this. Failure was not an option.

Everywhere in the store, chaos abounded. If necessary, he would draw upon his former experience as a football lineman and use his massive shoulders to push through the crowds (in a gentlemanly way, of course). Carts overloaded with multiple counts of bizarre items no one would have purchased before the Great Hoarding Phenomenon of 2020 threatened to hinder his quest.

Lon dodged into the tp aisle, the competition on his tail. His eyes settled on the prize: a pack of six rolls of fluffy white toilet paper. Only a couple packages remained on the otherwise empty shelves. He exchanged another glance with his rival. Heart pounding, muscles burning, he made the final leap to the shelf, and in one fell swoop, achieved victory. His competition did the same, securing his own pack.

They both stopped for a minute and chuckled. Were it not for the new social distancing rules in place, they might have shook hands or fist bumped.

The former competitors walked toward the checkout together with their prized purchases, discussing, at the appropriate distance, the ridiculous nature of toilet paper shortages.

Only later did Lon learn the hard sad truth. The toilet paper was one-ply.

white-toilet-paper-roll-on-woven-basket-3958196 (2)

*This story has been slightly exaggerated. The toilet paper pack actually contained 12 rolls, rather than six. 🙂

 

10 types of people you meet at the gym

gym stereotypes

Note: I will randomly be posting funny stereotypes on my blog in between my usual “Importance Series”, “Movie Mondays”, and other usual posts.

There are many different types of people who use the gym each day. Do you recognize any of the following? Or…can you identity with anyone on this list?

The Wannabee Bodybuilder – Watches his muscles in the mirrors, flexes, grunts, makes over-exaggerated movements. Perhaps he has a too-healthy sense of self. Telltale identifiers: wears tank tops to show off his “large” muscles, too-tight of clothing to enhance his build, and walks with inflated superiority.

exercise man.jpg

The Rebellious Participant – Doesn’t think that following instructions in a group fitness class is really necessary. She does her own thing, whether it be the exercises or the stretches. She even has earbuds in and listens to her own music and avoids all instruction. The rebellious participant has always wanted to teach her own class, so she does her own thing to get into practice. Telltale identifier: deliberately ignores the instructor’s workout prompts while partaking in exercises that have nothing to do with the class she’s in.

The Crabby Growler – Complains about EVERYTHING. Don’t even attempt to cheer up the Crabby Growler. Nothing works. For him, everyday is a bad day. Telltale identifier: his trademark permanent scowl and perpetual whining.

angry guy.jpg

The Bubbly Extrovert – Likes to chat with everyone everywhere about everything. On the way to the exercise machines, on the way from the weight room, during exercise class, and everywhere in between. Telltale identifier: She exudes happiness and bears an ever-present smile while waving enthusiastically to everyone in the vicinity.

Mister Musical Machines– Moves from machine to machine, never staying on one for more than five seconds. He starts with the treadmill before moving on to the elliptical, then the recumbent bike. His favorite childhood game was musical chairs. Telltale identifier: never wipes down machines in between hopping from one to the next, and moves so fast you can’t keep track of him.

The Vulture – She has it all planned out which machine or exercise bike she wants. EVERY TIME. Her name is on it in gold lettering. Touch her machine and your life expectancy will drop dramatically. Telltale identifier: Her gaze is fixed on her machine from the doorway, and she ramrods her way through until she has staked her claim.

vulture.jpg

The Monopolizer – He thinks he owns the gym. That walkway between the ellipticals and treadmills? Yep, that’s his designated stretching place, even when the space meant for stretching is completely empty. Those weight machines in the weight room? They all belong to him. Telltale identifier: his personal belongings litter the gym, from his water bottle, gym bag, sleeping bag, and recliner. You can’t get around him, and must wait for him to move before reaching your intended destination.

Alexander Graham Bell’s great-great-great-great-great granddaughter – She CANNOT miss a call, so she makes sure she is always on the phone. And she talks loud enough so that you can have the privilege of enjoying her conversation above your own music, even when you have earbuds. Telltale identifier: she is the only one with her cell phone as an extra appendage.

The Walking Germ Spreader – He takes being generous too far and is only too happy to share his germs with everyone else via coughing and sneezing without covering his mouth. The force of his coughs and sneezes rivals the strongest of fans and you go home fearing you may have contracted some rare disease. Telltale identifier: He is constantly heard saying “It’s just allergies”.

What other stereotypes have you come across at the gym?

 

5 things a man should never buy his wife for Christmas

 
5 things a man should never

All right, all you sweet and thoughtful husbands…have you decided what to buy your wife for Christmas yet?

Start making those lists!

And wives, if you’re reading this, kindly suggest to your husband to read this post – it could make your Christmas much merrier. 🙂

 
Ok, here is some helpful and humorous advice from a veteran wife of 26 years…

Disclaimer: these are just generalities and some wives may like the items on the “do not buy” list. Plan accordingly, and good luck!

Do not buy your wife:

1. Something she doesn’t want, but that you would like. For instance, don’t buy your wife a new (or gently used from the wrecking yard) car muffler for Christmas, unless she’s a mechanic or big into NASCAR. Lon bought a loud muffler thingy for our Jeep Cherokee years ago that sounded like what would belong on the vehicle of a high schooler. Guess who drove the Jeep 99.9% of the time? Yep, me. (And no, I wasn’t in high school) Guess what happened when we went to trade the Jeep in for a bigger vehicle once we started our family?

The thing was so loud that the car salesman told us we needed to “fix” the loud muffler before trading it in. Lon finally did convince the car salesman that the muffler wasn’t broken, but that it was a “high performance bought- and -installed- on- purpose- muffler.” Now some other poor wife is driving a Jeep that you can hear from a mile away!

Nix the new car tires too. While that’s nice that you want your wife to be safe, save it as a “family purchase” rather than a “gift for the wife purchase.”

2. Clothing. Husbands, unless you know your wife’s correct size, stick to a gift card at her favorite department store instead. Here’s why: If you buy her a size that’s four times her actual size, she’ll think you think she’s fat. Alternatively, if you buy her a size four times smaller than her actual size, she’ll think you think she needs to lose weight. See how this is a lose-lose situation?  So, unless you know for sure that she always wears a size medium in sweaters, please pass on the clothes. Otherwise, you may find yourself in deep trouble with your sweetie poo.

women's sweaters.jpg

3. A toolbox. When Lon and I were first married, he wrapped a large present and hid it under the tree. I was so excited and couldn’t wait until Christmas. Imagine my surprise when I opened the package and it was a toolbox complete with my own set of tools! I thanked my sweet husband for his nice gesture, but I was puzzled. I’ve never been very handy with tools and the farthest thing from a “fix-it girl” there ever was. Our story landed us on the pages of Woman’s World and the toolbox remains in the garage where Lon uses it on a regular basis. Disclaimer: this is a perfect gift only if your wife is the “fix-it type.” Otherwise, please pass on this gift idea!

toolbox.jpg

4. Exercise equipment. Does this one really need any explanation? Unless she asks for that new treadmill, pass on the expensive (or not-so-expensive) exercise equipment. You and your marriage will be glad you did.

5. A kitchen appliance. Unless she specifically asks for it or you can tell from her look of anguish at the toaster you received for your wedding gift 45 years ago, keep away from kitchen appliances. Ditto for mops, a year’s worth of cleaning supplies,  a garden tiller, a chainsaw, or a lawnmower. Just trust me on this. Really.

toasteer

 

Join me next time for some wife-approved Christmas gift ideas!


 

Check out these other posts pertaining to Christmas!

9 memorable Christmas traditions for families

21 fun Christmas stocking stuffer ideas

Movie Monday: A Bramble House Christmas

Movie Monday: Switched for Christmas

9 recently-released Movies for your next family night

21 awesome family movies you may never have heard of

Movie Monday: Finding Father ChristmasMovie Monday: Finding Father Christmas

Kids write the funniest things!

kids write

Ahhhh….the life of a homeschool mom!

I was going back through some of my two daughters’ vocabulary sentence notebooks from a few years ago. Whether more serious like my oldest daughter, or a goofball like my youngest daughter (who takes after her mom!), their senses of humor certainly came out in their writing assignments.

Here is a compilation, in no particular order, of 13 of the “best of the best” guaranteed to make you laugh taken directly from the real-life vocabulary sentence notebooks…

1. She did not know that they do mathematics in the Delaware militia.

2. The tranquil tortoise uniquely remembers going to a unique university in a different universe to learn how to use a vacuum.

tranquil tortoise

3. The mischievous lieutenant (who had been causing mischief), caught pneumonia a day before he had to pay the mortgage.

4. She is afraid the physician will persist with insistence that she get a porcelain cat.

5. The literate mayor will carry a sapphire into a quagmire.

6. One potato makes a whole plate of french fries. (Very profound!)

7. The fierce flies forgot about the giant foot and their guide got stepped on.  (This one came complete with an illustration!)

8. The mayor looked awfully suspicious when we found him adjacent to the butte in our backyard.

9. The book which you just read (the one that gave you a headache) is substantial.

10. The elephant will be frightened by everybody in the grocery store.

11. The cashier was courteous enough to give me a free chicken.

chicken

12. The president’s spontaneous reaction while trying taxidermy while eating was not pleasant. (He threw up).

13. The laborious cavalier has a quarrelsome leopard that eats dandelions.

Thank you for taking the time to travel down memory lane with me! What funny and memorable things have your kids written?

 

 


Before you leave, check out these other posts:

8 ways to know you are sleep deprived

5 ways to be happier

5 ways to jumpstart your writing project

20 songs that get you moving

7 ways to encourage your children

tasty gluten free coconut muffins

Looking to homeschool? Here are 7 things to consider