The Iron Will Not Be Ignored

I have grown up with a love/hate relationship with ironing. I love the results...hate the effort it takes to achieve the results.

Ironing is at the root of one of the biggest "mads" I have ever achieved (before I understood what our government was doing to all of us). I must have been home from college. I had ironed a white pleated pair of shorts, and after finishing, I laid them over a chair while I headed to the shower. While I was in the shower, my younger (very sneaky) sister took the shorts, put them on and left the house. DID SHE NOT KNOW THAT I HAD JUST EXPENDED THE ENERGY AND FRUSTRATION OF IRONING ALL OF THOSE PLEATS?!!! My grandma reminds us of the incident regularly, adding that she had never seen me so mad as I was that day.

And when I hear that people iron their bedsheets....WHAT? I can not comment further for fear I will become nauseous.

I survived my engineering career by ironing only what was going to show...the collar, cuffs and front of a blouse. I would never bother with the back, sleeves, shoulders. I was willing to suffer any heat-induced discomfort, that might otherwise cause someone to remove their jacket, just so I would not have to spend the time ironing parts that I could keep hidden.

And, oh modern times....when wrinkle free fabrics started hitting the market...what a happy girl am I! That is an absolute requirement of clothing that is purchased and worn with any regularity in our house. If something proves itself to not be wrinkle-free...it is swimming with the fishes (figuratively, of course!). Until I can move it along to an OCD owner, it is crumpled up and tucked away.

Recently, though, my husband remarked that I have ironed more in the last few weeks than I have done the previous 16 years of marriage. Why? Please see the picture above. My girls love making shapes with the brightly colored beads that I then melt together with the iron. They are a great rainy day activity and are doing wonders for the three-year-old's fine motor skills. So, until I can get these little buggers hidden away in the basement, I will iron...although, I have had to implement the "I'm only going to iron once a day" rule. Thankfully there are no pleats...

They Will Keep You Humble

I had just finished showering, applying makeup and styling my hair. The three-year-old walks in.

"Do you like my hair, Marrin?"

"No. Try again."

I guess that I can relish the fact that she thought I deserved a second chance.

Who Was the First?

Last night while pulling into a parking lot, we see a young man crossing our path. He is ever-trendy with his jeans cinched at least half way down his bum. You know how you might sometimes pick up your pace to clear the way for an oncoming vehicle? This guy couldn't picked up the pace if he wanted for fear of losing his drawers.

It got me pondering...who is the first person to see their friend with ill fitting pants and compliment them on the look? "That is so cool, dude, how I can see your underwear!" Any time you see some questionable fashion moves, someone was with the shopper in the dressing room, encouraging them to buy it...with no concern for the rest of us who have to look at it. A funny side story to the whole issue is what the buyer ended up paying for such mistakes. And then do they overpay for underwear that is suitable to show at the top of their jeans?

And have you ever wondered what led to the necessity for a seemingly silly or overly obstructive rule or law? I bet you that most times it is a very funny story or a very sad one.

The Food Groups of a Toddler

During a delectable, home-cooked meal the three-year-old asked if cheese was a fruit or a vegetable. I like the way that girl thinks!

Whew...Twice!

I was standing in the checkout line at the grocery store with all of my three girls. Ahhh...the checkout line...where you can actually be dumbed down by the media displayed and your kids can make that last ditch effort at getting you to buy something (candy) you had not planned to buy upon entering the store.

The girls were staring at the various magazines looking for pictures of High School Musical stars and Hannah Montana. Suddenly, one of them says "Hey mom! What's a 'mom from hell'?" Sure enough, it was written right on the front of one of the magazines about some tabloid victim. So, here's my first "whew"...as a homeschooling parent I was thrilled that they can read and can do so spontaneously because they want to, not because they have to. My second "whew"...that they had to even ask what a mom from hell is, instead of knowing exactly what it was based upon their own personal experience.

What's Your Measurement System?

Metric...schmetric...

Let's have more fun with measurement! I will start!

How big is your house? Let's measure in "MOMs". That is the number of times your child must call for you before they find you. Why DO they start calling and talking to me, before they get to me? Sorry ... a whole other issue...back to our program. I do realize that this will change with their pace (e.g. urgent=running=fewer "MOMs"). It also will vary with their size and related stride length.

Who needs 30 minute meals? I measure in how many times I hear "Is dinner ready?" It gets exponentially faster the more times it is asked because the asker is usually put to work, thus speeding up the delivery of chow to the table.

Today I met my sister-in-law in Portland, MI so that my niece could come and spend the weekend with us. The trip...75 miles...an hour...who cares about that? How many High School Musical Soundtracks can we get through? For those that are curious...a song over two full soundtracks gets you there.

Or you could measure your trip in the number of McDonald's passed...therefore, how many times "I want McDonald's" can be hollered by the three-year-old.

I must admit that I am not ready to apply measurement to the amount of time it takes us to get through school on selected days. Those are the times that I think carbon dating could be applied meauring the time elapsed from the top of the math page to the bottom.

Our government could be measured in dollars printed ...bailouts passed...bonuses apprehended...taxes not paid by appointed, nominated or elected officials.

The possibilities are endless...have fun!

The Magic of the Handwritten Note

What is it about the handwritten note? I know I love it when I receive one. I keep a basket full of the notes and cards that I have received because some days, I just need an "atta girl" and even an old one will do the trick.

Unfortunately, I am not as prolific at writing them. If I love it...wouldn't someone else? I often have good intentions, but don't get around to it. I need to develop the habit of always having a stash of notes with me, so that when moved to do so, I can jot a quick note while the thought rests on my heart. This is more of a process issue for me, than an inventory issue...plenty of cards, but I am a purse-changer...so I would need to take special care to make sure I move them to the purse-of-the-day (an incentive might be an extra point during one of those purse-inventory/scavenger games that we all love to play at bridal and baby showers).

In this era of text messages, IMs and emails, the note written by hand stands out. Is it because it is unique due to your penmanship (or lack thereof), while any email looks like any old email? Is it the appreciation that someone took the time to pick out the paper or card, look up your mailing address and actually went to the expense of the stamp?

Now, I'm not saying that it is not OK to email your thoughts and appreciation...to shoot a text message that says "Ur Gr8! Thx!" Those are certainly better than doing nothing. And, they are both convenient. But, next time you want to express some heartfelt gratitude for a friendship...an act of kindness...the services of your child's volunteer coach...the time or effort for that person at church who seems to do everything and be everywhere...why not take the time to grab a card and a pen. You will be rewarded with their appreciation for doing something that seems to be so unique these days. And, maybe they will tuck that envelope into a book and get to relive that feeling every time they see it. What a gift to give someone!