Kitchen Floor: Part 2

This really isn't a blog about my floor, but I had to laugh this morning when I washed the floor 3 times - in a row. First, I spilled an entire glass of beverage across the counter and then onto the floor. I set H down to clean up the mess. While I was taking care of that spill, she was just a few steps away at the table. She picked up my entire cup of coffee, and dumped it on the floor. It was everywhere. Thought #1: My coffee!! Thought #2: Oh, did she just get burned?! Thought #3: I'm not done cleaning up the first mess!

So, of course I was kitchen-floor-nazi-woman all day and swept it like 9 times. The current state of the floor: clean.

How Do You Prioritize The Kitchen Floor?

So this past weekend, we had a leader rlife meeting. I know, it's really quite confusing how many rlife groups and meetings and activities there are. I'm thinking that maybe this leader meeting should be called something different - maybe LLife. Now that wouldn't be too confusing. But anyway, we discussed priorities in our lives. We had to jot down the top five items in our lives that we spend the most time/energy/resources on. In my top five I had cleaning, taking care of the household, etc. What that one really should have been labeled is "Sweeping and Caring for the Floor". Yes, I'm getting a little obsessive over the kitchen floor. An hour before our group of 15 (most of whom I've never met) showed up on Sunday, I was on my hands and knees, washing the floor with a brush and rag. But I digress.

Now for most people who know me, with the proper amounts of sleep and caffeine, I can be really just sarcastic. I've reached that point today, and have something truly important and just plain idiotic to share with my vast readership.

Here is my top 5 things that really just suck to sweep off the kitchen floor:

1. Rice. Mike refers to these days of the week as "Rice Night". It's an event in our household because with The Three, more rice ends up on the floor than in anyone's mouths. And before the rice dries, it's wet. Who knew?! And so before we can sweep the dry rice, there is wet rice all over the floor, just waiting to be stepped on with someone's sock and then drug to another part of the house.

2. Smooshed American Cheese. It's really the grossest thing ever. And impossible to sweep. This calls for clorox wipes or at the very least, a wet paper towel.

3. Raisins. These are not the worst things ever, but when they've been played with or get flung out of someone's mouth, it's not too pleasant to sweep up.

4. Baby spit up. Need I say more?!

5. Ok, so apparently I only had 4 on my list, but I would like to take this #5 spot to say that I would really like a swivel sweeper for my birthday. I think it would be awesome - just watch the infomercial!

Thirty-something

When does thirty-something start? Is it when you're in your thirties and you don't want to tell people your real age? Is it just a clever way of saying I'm older than you think I am? A slacker?

I get on these kicks right before my birthday every year. This year, I'll be at my last year of "early thirties". Next year, I'll officially be in my mid-thirties. Fun, eh? Maybe next year I'll start the whole thirty-something catch phrase. For now, though, I'll stick to "early thirties". Or - maybe, (gasp!) I'll even say with a proud smile, I'm 34. Oh, wait - not till next month! ;)

My Blessing has Arrived

How do you know when you arrive? Perhaps when I someday have two Christmas trees in my house, or when all the rooms are furnished, or when we have our house landscaped, or when The Three are all in school, or ... I will "arrive".


My middle baby had her 2nd day of pre-school today. I look into her eyes and see almost see the future - a grown child, so mature, caring, eager, patient, gentle, and excited. School has done something for her -- something of her own (even tho she wants to be just like Maddie)! She has another adult to listen to and respect. She walked right up to Mrs., smiled, waved her little hand and said goodbye. Then she waited for a hug. Sweet!

Remember when life was just about one child? I sometimes miss those days - when all my attention could be focused on one person - and when she was napping - "my" stuff. But is life really about how many pictures I can take of one baby and then spend all day sorting through them? Hmmm ... those were the days, but I'm thinking maybe, just maybe life isn't all about that stuff. Now, in between baby naps I respond to emails, blog, clean, do laundry (and more laundry), and plan out our days and weeks. Don't get me wrong -- there's moments when I escape to the computer to check out how much it would be to get away on a cruise or for a weekend or something. But then God pulls me back to reality.


A few weeks ago, a speaker at church talked about humility and honor. And sometimes we wade thru tons of humility - just up to our breaking point - before we get to the honor side. It was a scripture in Proverbs that I can't remember. Did I mention I'm not that good with numbers? At first, I thought it was God telling me that he wasn't done with me on the humility side. The message did, after all, occur a day after I had a interview with a potential employer. But, later when I was trying to sort it out in my head and recount all that was taught in the Sunday service, the only word I could remember was "honor". The peace I was overwhelmed with throughout the week assured me that the reason I couldn't remember the word humility was God saying to me I wasn't there anymore - my blessing has arrived.

Today I got the email - the potential employer will soon be my employer ... just waiting on some details to be worked out. Yay! Yay for someone else being in control!

The Monster at the End of This Book

I'm in denial about it being the last weekend of summer. Do you realize what that means ahead of us? School. Halloween. My birthday (ok, not so bad). Thanksgiving. Snow. Oh -- Black Friday. Christmas shopping. Christmas. Lots and lots more snow. Being cold. More school. High utilitybills. Valentine's and New Year's. Ok, so not all bad.

This week summer adventures will come to a close, the neighborhood will go back to its routine, my eldest baby will enter 2nd grade, and all will become normal again in this household. Or will it? What's normal? ;)

Let's ignore that for now, and concentrate at the task at hand: Labor Day! With each page turning, yes, it gets closer to the monster at the end of this week, but with each day holds more adventures to blog about, right?

Diary of a Bug Killer

And we're back at it. I made several of those fun phone calls to find "the source", but no luck. Each person I talked to consoled me with great words of wisdom and an empathic voice, but really that does no good. I was really counting on someone I knew to be the source so we could be done with this once and for all. I even called church. You know, our brand new building that thousands of children visit each weekend.

This will take a miracle to contain and get rid of.

I was not encouraged by all the posts I read online last night. "Not encouraged" could better be described as "tearful". I won't go into any more gory details, but just google "head lice" for a better idea of all the information that's out there. It's really something. What did people do before the internet?

And so tonight we will begin another round of doing hair. Woohoo! (read the sarcasm because I'm really not excited about this.)

Sweet, Sweet Memories of 2008

Let's start off with good, old fashioned truth. I've avoided this topic because, well, it's ugly. It's gross. And a little embarrassing. So here it is ... this summer we've been plagued by head lice! There. It's out there. Whew.



But just by saying (or writing) the words doesn't make it go away. Let me take you through - step by step - the ordeal of having head lice in your house.



Last month, on the Fourth of July, I discovered bugs in Chloe's hair. Gross. I got chills as I realized what it was. The next morning, a Saturday, we all packed up and took us all to the doctor. I was really concerned because what if Hailey had it? She was only 12 months at the time. So the nurse drug in a huge light. I'm not talking just a little flashlight. She had to go get this monster lamp, had us each sit in a chair under the light, and "check us out." It didn't take long, and probably if she looked without a giant lamp she could have figured it out. Yes, all three of us with the majority of hair in our household had it.



That afternoon, my mom came over to "help". Having a toddler around doesn't help matters, so we did the bulk of the work when Hailey went to bed. Mike started one of the girls - shampooing, rinsing, then the combing. First, though, it takes some prep time. The kitchen needs to be cleaned. I put everything on the counters away. (yes, a project in itself) I covered the floor with a sheet. I gathered the clips and bands and combs we needed. While Mike was busy with "doing hair" I ran through the house like a mad-woman gathering up all the stuff that would need to be laundered. Sheets from every bed. Bed skirts from every bed. Mattress pads from every bed. Comforters/quilts from every bed. Blankets from the living room. Pillows from the living room. (remember the new couch? Yea, that one). Then I gathered up all the stuffed animals. From everywhere. They are still contained in 5 or 6 huge trash bags in the basement, you know, under quarantine. Then, I gathered up all the hair stuff. Hair bands, barrettes, headbands, etc. You might think we have about 12 girls in this house from the amount of hair stuff that we have (well, had). Not only were they contained where they should be, but I dug through toy bins to find even more. Everything was washed. It took an entire gallon of bleach and an entire bottle of laundry detergent (you know, the one that reads "32 loads" on the front). I lost count of how many loads of laundry it took, but it was a lot. We also sprayed the furniture, mattresses, car seats, and bike helmets with the special spray that came with the kit. Obviously, you can't throw those things in the washing machine. I'd like to try, but hey, that would just be more work.



So all of that happened 7 days before we were to leave for the road trip. Fun, eh? The follow up treatment occurred Friday night, less than 12 hours before we left on the trip. Isn't that exactly what you'd like to do before taking your family on a big trip?



So while we were ON vacation, we did "spot checks" to see how things were looking (read: dead or alive?) And we found some nits, of course. We weren't supposed to do any treatments, because well, more pesticide on our heads could probably do some damage. So we continued combing-through. While at my in-laws we used their giant lamp/magnifying glass to really see what was going on. And, boy was there things going on.

Throughout the following 4 weeks, we "spot-checked" our heads to make sure nothing was going on. Fast-forward to three nights ago. During one of our routine spot-checks, we found a couple of bugs. SIGH. Two nights ago, we started all over: the cleaning, the laundry, the shampooing, the spraying, etc.

It's not over - now we need to find the "source" and have the "source" be sure they're getting proper treatment. Doesn't that sound like tons of fun? Making numerous phone calls to each of the neighbors to retell this story, and confide in each of them our gross bug story? Everyone reassures me that they can only live in clean hair. You know, because I pride myself in such meticulous personal hygiene, I'm the one who obviously gets to reap all the benefits.

So the moral of the story is: live in a bubble, don't let your kids interact with anyone else, and above all else, never shower!