A Mystery on the Farm

I think the best part about living in the country is all the adventures it produces.  Since Sunday I've lost a cat and two goats, had a concrete kitty, and have cat food missing from the patio shortly after feeding time.  I'm part mom, part teacher, part wife, and part sleuth.
All day Sunday,  Scratchy the kitten spent the day in my husband's shadow while I was stuck in bed.  They worked in the the garden, the barn, and the coop.  At bedtime I go outside to check on everyone and Scratchy is missing.  ”mew mew mew mew!  mew mew mew mew!” I look in all the places he plays with no luck.  I turn to my husband in bed and say, ” I'm so worried about tiny kitty.”  He replies, ” You don't even worry about me that much!”  Ha! 
Still Sunday, I head to the barn to look for Scratchy when I realize the goats are missing.  I call to them and after about five minutes I see their bouncing ears rounding the neighbor's barn and squirming through the fence.  They run full speed till they are standing, with dirt flying, at attention in front of me.  Naughty goats, they found a hole in the fence.  Another job for my tired husband who just drove us fifteen hours and hasn't stopped working since he got home!!
The Outside Kitty (aka Kiki) sees me dragging myself back to the house and runs to greet me.  I look at her coming towards me and cock my head to the side to get a different angle.  Yup, she is wet.  She rubs on my leg and I bend down to give her some love and feels stiff peaks of meringue?  Not likely....of concrete!  While we were out of town the well drillers came to pour the slab for my well.  I guess Kiki thought it was cool and refreshing.  I try to brush it out of her fur at the risk of losing my hand and part of my face.  I give up quickly.  She seems fine and I've been finding chunks of concrete fur around so she is grooming herself and no one gets hurt.  Concrete also found its way on to my husband's car...oops.
Monday morning I wake up feeling miserable with Scratchy on the brain and a 102.4 fever.  My husband returns to work after our week of vacation leaving me to feed all the animals.  It took me twice as long to do my morning chores, but as I was walking back to the house I decided to check my car.  I hear scrambling and meowing!  Scratchy!  Oh sweet baby tiny cat what are you doing in the car?  I question the kids.  Chloe has an alibi.  Brett says, ” Yesterday I had to get the directions for my legos, but I didn't know he followed me!”  So glad I found him before the heat of the day, that is one lesson I don't want my children to learn through experience.
I still have no leads on the disappearing kitty food at my front door.  I have filled it twice today.  I tried to sit and watch the bowl to no avail as I fell asleep.  I know the cats don't eat it quickly, the dog is in bed with me, the pony has been sleeping outside my window all afternoon, that leaves chickens, deer, or raccoons.  I'm so annoyed.  I will be shopping for cat food in record time if I can't solve the Kitty Food Caper!
I am writing from the comfort of my bed with the faint sound of a cricket's song coming from Brett's room.  I yell to Bitey(the leopard gecko) to please quiet his food, which reminds me to check on the food outside.  Gone again!  I think this mystery is to be continued......
The photos below are of Scratchy and the cement fur clumps.  Happy reading!

I'm Always Right, Except For When I'm Wrong

The past three weeks have been full of sickness in my house.  Sadly, my husband was ill during our Big Summer Vacation.  The first week Chloe, my daughter, had over 103 fever for an entire week.   Brett spent a whole week with a fever, Thadd followed during our vacation and then the day we return home, I get it. 
I'm certain I haven't had a fever in a while.  I feel awful.  Everything hurts, EVERYTHING!  I'm a mom and as such am well versed in treating sickness symptoms.  Fever requires a BRAT diet, hydration, warm showers or baths, and dress in lightweight clothing.  So, I had cereal with milk (NO!), a little bit of water, a boiling hot shower, and then wrapped myself in a huge fuzzy robe and covered myself with two comforters.  Obviously, I'm sick and think all the things they say about a fever are lies;  a luke warm shower will NOT feel good!

Two weeks ago when Chloe was sick I asked her symptoms and stood with my hand on my hip in complete disbelief.  ”Chloe, your body does not hurt!  I can't imagine your neck and back hurt.  Clearly the spinal encyclopedia you read is swaying your symptoms.” Perhaps I also posted something of facebook about her drama.  Yesterday I was in bed almost crying because my body ached so badly.  The high doses of ibuprofen were more to treat the pain than the fever.  This morning I awoke in such pain I crawled out of bed to take more ibuprofen.  At about 2 o'clock, Chloe came and sat on my bed and began rubbing my back.  At 4 o'clock she wiped my forehead with a  wet wash cloth. 

Think back two weeks when I was torturing her for  ” being dramatic” and poking her leg and arm and asking, ”Does this hurt?”  I know, call Child Protective Services.  I look at her sweet face and say, ” Chloe I'm so sorry I didn't believe you when you were sick.”  She just smiles.

I was wrong.  So very wrong.  I'm also wrong in my fever treatment, but I just removed two blanket and my robe and I'm drenched in sweat.  I  guess I deserve to be since I didn't follow ANY  instructions! 

I'm lucky Chloe forgave me, we aren't always so lucky.

Wait, Did I Miss It?

This post is a hard one for me to write since it is something I struggle with daily. It does parallel with another post (Are You Committed to Something Valuable?), but it goes a little deeper. Can you take it?

The other day I was a dinner with my family and the table next to us had a single mom and her ten month old daughter. They walked in, sat down and for the next thirty minutes the young mom checked facebook. The little girl was very well behaved yet she kept trying to get the attention of anyone she could find.  I was an easy find for this child as I was drawn to her big, soft eyes. I wanted to hold her and talk to her and play a game of peek-a-boo.

Maybe I just caught them on an off day. Maybe this mom is super attentive but had a long day and needed to decompress. Maybe not. I've mentioned how I often ask my daughter to give me one sentence that describes me.  One time she said, ”I'm not sure because all you do is text and facebook. Ouch!

I do love people and enjoy the opportunity to live life surrounded by friends via facebook, but not at the expense of my family.  I still struggle with balancing my social life and my family life. Luckily I have a daughter who is not afraid to tell me the truth.

I know I need truth tellers in my life since I easily get hooked on, well, all sorts of things.  Sometimes I get offended prickly when I hear the truth.  Often it takes a couple days for the constructive criticism to sink in, but I want my family to know they matter most to me. 

Don't let it be you who asks, ”Wait, Did I Miss It?”

I'm Beyond Famous, I'm Infamous

My real name is Merissa.  It means Sea Star and, yes, I always dreamed of being a star. I have been putting on shows in living rooms across the country for as long as I can remember. You fancy a song?  No problem. A dance routine? I got it! Perhaps you prefer theatre? Comedy or tragedy?
I've been the star of my own show since birth.  Ok, so we've all been the star of our own show!  I dreamed of being a Broadway superstar and had all the necessary talents and opportunities, but when the time came to commit to the endless auditions and the countless ”thank you, you are free to go” speeches I packed up and left town.

I only ever wanted to be the best at something and if I wasn't the best I gave up.  As I matured I began to realize that I could be the best ME even if I wasn't the best (insert anything here).  In addition to maturing, I also felt a strong urge to move back to Texas.  I call it the Holy Spirit.
I arrive in Texas where I immediately find work as a dance director at a performing arts high school. My degree is in Dance Pedagogy so this job is perfect. I spend many hours a week in dance classes and rehearsals, training a young new breed.  Mostly I was learning from these students, although I was benefiting by collecting the pay check.  Some of the students loved me and others loathed me, yet they could all agree I gave a great stretch class!

I no longer teach at the performing arts school, but I am still a teacher.  I teach Spanish, although I think I'm much more well versed in the foreign language, ”crazy sauce.”  Unfortunately it is not a recognized class.  You see, the things I learned as I taught were more valuable than anything I could ever do on the stage.   I taught others to be the best. I helped them along their path to stardom, fame, success, failure, life. I've changed more lives as a teacher than I could ever have done as a star.

I perform everyday in a classroom and must bring my ”A” game.  I can't promise I'm always perfect, but I promise to commit to my students no matter the challenge.  My job is not really to teach them any particular subject matter, rather I  teach them to be the best they can be.  Some will go on to be scientists, attorneys, nurses, doctors, chefs, or maybe if they are lucky, a stay at home parent.  They will live their dreams and possibly walk away from them to do something better.  I know I did. 

The success my students have found qualifies me to also be a success.  Their successes lie in a variety of fields.  Some of my students have taken more time to mature and others are on their second or third career. Some students have become successful because of something I contributed to their lives and others in spite of me.  Successful all the same.  So, in a crazy way, I am famous...uh well, infamous.


*I am so thankful for the special teachers in my life who changed me and made me better.  I am also thankful to all of my students for their lessons...even the lessons that involved my students smelling like pot.  Unforgettable.

I Can't Wait To Get Out of Here!

We are on the road, heading west and then south, but ultimately towards home.  Home for me has been so many places, so many homes and cities alike.  I don't struggle with calling somewhere home even if it had only been hours since arrival.  All week the beach condo has been home. I only paid for one week, but home it became.

Two weeks ago I was sitting in a movie theater and I over heard some teenagers talking about home.  Two of them said, ”I can't wait to get out of this place and I'm never coming back!” and the other guy said, ”I love it here.  I hope I never have to leave.”  I grew up in Laredo, Texas and couldn't wait to leave.  Don't judge me, listen to why.

I always dreamed of being famous (this is a blog post in itself) in the form of either a movie star or a Broadway star.  Laredo is not exactly the silver screen!  If I dreamed of having an uber successful freight forwarding company, Laredo is the spot.  Ok, this paragraph was a MAJOR deviation.

I have made moves for various reasons and each move proved to be a blessing, sometimes in disguise.  With each move comes new routes to all of my favorite places, my furniture finding new resting spots, the pets enjoying a sniff-fest, and the kids finding new hiding spots (from each other).  We currently live in a place where there is work for both of us, a great school for the kids, and friends.  People come from far and wide to visit the Texas Hill Country as place of rest and beauty. I get to live there.

Without exception, every place I have lived has had something beautiful and unique.  Each city has a special gift and each home provides a unique perspective of how we, literally, see our family.  The most important thing I've found is my world only turns where my family lays their heads.  A cardboard box, a tent, a house, or an apartment are all the same if my family is there too. 

The United States has faced its worst homeless rate since the Great Depression and yet the stories you hear are one of hope.  The families bond together and make a home out of their car, a tent, or even a shelter.  At the end of the day, the roof doesn't matter.

So, whether you decide to leave your hometown or stay and make it better, enjoy all your town has to offer.  Get involved and make a difference.  Find what makes your city unique and celebrate those things.  At the end of the day, rest your head wherever your loved ones are and know that is the most perfect place of all.

Kids Come Prefabricated

This morning, on the beach, Chloe and Brett created a hermit crab playpen in the sand.  Brett came and went bringing all sorts of critters to the hermit crab playground.  He carefully collected seaweed, checking it for marine life, and placed it gently in the playpen.

A young boy runs by and sees the creation.  He violently tramples the playpen and throws the seaweed in all directions.  Brett walks up just in time to see the horror and runs over to me, falls to his knees hiding his face in his hands, and begins to cry.  Not the fake whine that accompanies everything else in his life, but a heart wrenching cry as if his whole life's work had just been destroyed. And well, it had.

I took this opportunity to talk to him about talking through the situation.  I tell him to talk to the boy and ask why he was destroying his work.  Chloe comes over and sees the destruction and her brother crying and marches over to the child.  I tell her to ”call off the dogs” as I see the rage in her face.  she storms over to me as I'm telling Brett, ”When someone hurts your feelings...”  Chloe finishes my statement, ”...you punch them in the face.”  Uh, well, not quite.  I finally finish my statement, ” you need to use your words and talk it out.”   Chloe walks off and I'm not sure Brett really thinks my advice is worthwhile. 

I wanted to throw the kid in the ocean and say, ”Ooops!”  That wouldn't be using my words.  Luckily when he was flinging seaweed in all directions he threw some on a pregnant woman and the kid' s grandpa FINALLY intervened.  I'm sure all this kid really wanted was someone's attention.

When I dreamed of what my kids would be when they were born, I dreamed Chloe would be a beautiful dancer and cheerleader and Brett would be the football star.  Chloe is beautiful alright, but she loathes dance and cheer and prefers to read encyclopedias in her spare time.  Brett would rather be fishing...
These kids are prefabricated in the womb and they come out ready made. 

Sometimes they have eight fingers or nine toes.  They are not always what we imagined.  They don't always do what we want them to do even though we have taught then right from wrong, but our job is to love them no matter what obstacle arises.

I love every bit of them even though they aren't what I imagined they would be.  They are so much more than I ever dreamed.

Girl's Night Out

We spent the entire day out on the water snorkeling and swimming.  I'm exhausted, but not too tired for Girl's Night Out!  The line-up is hard to beat with a nine year old(my daughter), twin seven year olds and me.  I think I am probably the eight year old in the bunch.

We ordered appetizers, a meal and dessert, but those mini desserts that are eaten in three bites.  The girls were free to be silly, say anything, and taste EVERYTHING.  We laughed and they shared my dessert.  Somehow my dessert tastes better than their dessert?  Uh huh.

We climb in to the car catching a glimpse of the moon and waving to the moon.  It is a lovely moon.  I drive towards their house and take a few wrong turns and, at their suggestion, almost drive through a plaza.  ” uh, I apologize officer.  I did not see the plaza or the benches sitting in front of my face.  It was dark?”  I told them that would be the conversation and I was certain their mom would not let me take them out again if we called from jail.

We opened the sun roof and screamed lovlies to the moon.  ”Hello Moon!”  ” You are so bright tonight, Moon!”  ” You are the best Moonie Moonie!”  Two teenage boys on bikes ride by just in time for the screamfest.  They must've thought we wanted them to moon us!  I didn't turn around to check.  We are laughing so hard we nearly cry and their mom is waiting outside.  Oops, she heard the screams.

I wish this night would last forever.  Crazy girl fun is always so good for me.  I've attended about five Girl's Night Outs in all my life, but this one was, BY FAR, the best.  Good. Clean. Fun.