Wordless Wednesday- you say "toe-may-toe", I say "yum!"

if you build it....

It's no secret that Caleb's medicine is helping him immensely. And wouldn't ya know that after three weeks of sharing legos with cousins, he'd have a new appreciation for the stash of blocks that we have here at home. (Small by some standards, I'm sure; but while no one has sat and counted legos recently, we estimate our stash to be around 4,000 pieces.)

Ask Matthew. I guess he had too much time on his hands at some point.

Over the last several days, I've had everything from an army of lego robots to a fleet of cars spread over my coffee table. Regrettably, I didn't think to get pictures of either of those. But Saturday, Caleb decided that he needed paper for a "blueprint". I got kinda excited when he brought me this:

It's widely reported that not to be outdone, his brother built this:

It was later used to smash the rocket to bits.

Many tears followed.

sometimes you gotta laugh

or you're gonna cry.


Trust me when I tell you that I've done plenty of both in recent days.


The van was in the garage all week. Last night, I finally got clearance to drive it, as the problem seems to be not "drive threatening". That's good. I think.


We've had plenty of rain over the last several days. We spent a portion of Wednesday afternoon in the basement due to a tornado warning in our corner of the county. While we had the radio on for updates we were treated to a waterfall show. Seems that there is a fairly significant crack in the foundation on the west side of the house. Wonderful.


There also seems to be a leak in the roof over the bathroom. If you remember this post, you'll know that I was very happy with the new ceiling.



Now the ceiling looks like this:

I realize it could be worse, but COME ON!

And our 13 year old decided that since he was upset with me yesterday, he'd disappear. When I sent him a text telling him it was dinner time, I assumed he was just a block or so way up at the park. Imagine my surprise when his reply was that he was in the town thirteen miles away.

When I asked him what in the world he was thinking, he said "I was mad at you." Nice.

He's without any tv or computer games and chained to our property for a week. And his phone has been confiscated for an undetermined amount of time.

And the kicker was that he acted like it was no big deal that he took off without a word.

I don't wanna be a grown-up anymore.

promises

I waited patiently for the Lord;
He turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and the mire,
He set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand. Ps 40:1-2

The Lord is my light and my salvation-
whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life-
of whom shall I be afraid? Ps 27:1

As for God, His way is perfect… 2Sam 22:31a

All the ways of the Lord are loving and faithful
for those who keep the demands of His covenant. Ps 25:10

I will lie down and sleep in peace,
for You alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety. Ps. 4:8

For the pagans run after all these things,
and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.
But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness
and all these things will be given to you as well.
Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow,
for tomorrow will worry about itself. Mt 6:32-34a

give thanks!

Money is tight, our options limited but God is still on the throne. In everything that seems to have been going not quite right in the last few weeks, we still have our home and family. We're safe, there's food in the refrigerator and (most) of the bills are paid.

On the whole we are healthy, happy and continually blessed. We refuse to let Satan do his damndest to break up what we have going; our faith in what God has done and is doing and will do for us is bigger than that!

"MY grace is sufficient for you; for MY power is made perfect in (your) weakness." 2 Cor. 12:9

That's good news!

days to weeks

When we loaded up the van for vacation to Michigan on June 12th, we had no idea that getting home would involve one bus ticket, the boys and I would get two extra weeks with family and we'd have just seventeen hours at home before we were away again for a long weekend.

I'll be back and tell you all about it. Just as soon as the house is cleaned, the fridge and cupboards stocked, the bills paid.......

bunches

Last night at Caleb's game, his team was down by just a run at their final at-bat. Matthew and I heard Coach Pat say "Boys, do you wanna win this game? Let's get a bunch of runs this inning then!!"

All the boys cheered.

Matthew and I then started talking about what comes in bunches, since we didn't think that either of us had ever heard of homeruns coming in bunches.

Grapes...check.

Bananas...check.

Nuts?

I look at Matthew like he's crazy (haha) and I say "Nuts don't come in bunches, silly."

His reply?

"The Andersen's do!"

Can't argue with that.

mustard, relish and my dad

If you know me at all, you'd know that I'm kind of an emotional person. Heck, my little (age 25) brother still gives me grief about the time that he saw me cry at the Cheerios commercial that was popular at Christmastime several years back.

I'm sure you know the one.

The baby's sitting in the highchair and there are cheerios scattered all over the tray. The grandmother (I can only assume) talks about several cheerios as though they are family members living in various areas of the country.

But then she scoots two pieces of cereal together and says "But we'll always be together for Christmas".

Excuse me while I hunt down a Kleenex.

There. ahem.

I live 400 miles plus a few from my family. They're on one side of Lake Michigan and I'm on the other. While I know that this is pittance of a distance to some families,(my mother-in-law, God love her, always reminds me that I could have an ocean separating me and my family...helpful, isn't she?) it is difficult for me at times.

And silly things remind me of when I was a kid.

Take last night, for example. We had hot dogs for dinner. While I am normally just a "plain yellow mustard, no ketchup, please!" kind of girl, I happen to have sweet pickle relish in the house at the moment. I made a potato salad a couple weeks back and I needed relish for that.

My dad always, always, always put mustard and relish on his hotdogs and his burgers when I was growing up. And on the burger, he always makes a continuous circle with the mustard from the outside of the burger to the center and then closes the bottle and dabs the remaining bit on the bun top.

Always.

But last night while I was putting mustard and relish on my hotdog, I started to think about Dad. And how much I love him and he loves me and how much I miss him when I don't get a chance to see him often.

When I do get to see him in two weeks and three days, I can't wait to hug him.

how does your garden grow?

ice cream

...it's what's for dinner!

good sport

Caleb's playing baseball. And believe me when I tell you that I use that phrase loosely.

When his team is up to bat, he's all for active participation. Sometimes a little too active, as he's been reminded more than once that he shouldn't walk in front of home plate to retrieve a bat when a runner is coming into home at full speed.

Good thing when that happens, he's always "on deck" so he's wearing a batting helmet.

He's gotten several hits already this season, as long as he uses his own bat. And he's only been tagged out on base once, and that was at third.

The outfield is a totally different story.

If there were awards given for pirouetting, ala 'Sound of Music' style out in left field rather than backing up third, he'd qualify for High Honors.

If "sand-castle making" were part of the criteria for making the team, he'd definitely be chosen first. During the first game of the season, Jon swears that he heard Coach Pat tell Caleb to "save the sandcastles for the backyard."

His coach is so patient with him, and we are definitely thankful for that. He stands near Caleb most of the time and redirects him.

And if he's paying attention, he does fine. But that's a big "if".

I've taken to sitting in the van with my head in a book and the windows up during practice. Ignorance, even partial, is bliss.

customer service epic fail

*alternately titled: Why surprises aren't always a good thing.

Early Tuesday morning last week I was still sorta searching for an idea for Mother's Day. Suddenly I remembered that I had wanted to order a rose of sharon for my mom (she'd left one behind in a move once that she really liked) and I asked Jon if he thought that his mom would like one.

"Sure. That sounds like a good idea."

That's as close to excitement over such things as he comes.

Fast forward to late Tuesday morning, I had chosen and ordered plants at the best price I could from a fairly trusted online site, complete with gift messages to be contained in the boxes which were, of course, being shipped to two different locations.

I was a bit disappointed in the knowledge that I hadn't ordered early enough for the plants to arrive in time for Mother's Day, but I just figured that I'd mention to my mom (and Jon could mention to his) to be on the lookout for a shipment this week.

Done.

So yesterday afternoon, imagine my surprise when the convo with my mom goes like this:

Me: "So I sent you a plant....."
Mom: "Oh, good!"
Me: "....but I didn't get it ordered in time, so it should arrive as soon as tomorrow."

Mom: "a rose of sharon?"
Me- sorta shocked that her "mom ESP" is still that sharp: "Yeah, how'd you know?"
Mom: "It arrived on Friday."
Me- now it's my turn: "oh good!"

But here's the kicker: There wasn't a bit of information outside of the box or inside the box...ahem, NO gift message...to indicate that I had sent it. Not a shred.

She'd even emptied the box of all the packing peanuts and looked at all the attached paperwork...NOTHING.

Since it was Mother's Day weekend, she assumed it was from me and had Dad plant it in the yard over the weekend.....I had failed to indicate in the card I'd sent separately to expect the package ..... not wanting to spoil the surprise.

That fifty percent turned out okay......

Jon's mom has green thumbs; heck her hands are green. She can make anything grow. She orders from bulb and plant sites all the time.

So when a package arrives at her door on Friday morning with what she later tells me is a bill inside, she gets on the horn with customer service. There isn't any answer from the first number she dials so she finally reaches someone named Pam when she dials a second number.

Believing that she's been shipped something that she did not order and will not pay for, she tells customer service that she will ship it back. And that's just what she has my father-in-law do early Friday afternoon.

So she is horrified and extremely apologetic when she learns from her son yesterday afternoon that she has returned her Mother's Day gift in error. So horrified, in fact, that she calls me specifically to apologize yesterday afternoon and to get the order number to attempt to remedy the situation first thing this morning.

No matter who's at fault.. me, for deciding that the surprise would be fun; or customer service for not including the specifically ordered gift messages... I learned something.

The "surprise" element is never worth the stress.

who's your daddy?

When I was very young, I remember hearing my mom call my dad "daddy" from time to time. Most of the time she called him "honey", but sometimes.....


Jon's birthday is tomorrow. Caleb loves to create, so I suggested to him that maybe he'd want to get out the card making supplies and make a card to give to Jon. He was excited and immediately started talking about markers and ink and glitter, oh my.


I helped him with the cutting and the ink and he took over with the color. He asked me if orange was an okay color to write with on the inside of the card and I agreed.


I'd vetoed yellow; it's hard for ageing eyes to see, you know. Ahem.


He asked me if he could have an envelope and I agreed. I said "Why don't you write Daddy's name on the front; that way he knows it's for him."


I turned my back to begin cleaning up the card-carnage.


In just a minute, I couldn't help my shock at seeing what he'd written.

It says "Joe".

Trying not to laugh, I said "Do you see what you've written?" It takes him a second, but he looks at me sorta sheepishly and says "Oops, I think I need a new envelope. It's supposed to say 'Daddy'.

Maybe he knows something I don't.

outside looking in

I've written before about Caleb's struggles in school. They really stemmed from his inability to concentrate on anything and began surfacing when he went to Kindergarten.

His kindergarten teacher, bless her, suggested that maybe he needed a sugar-free diet. We weren't particularly opposed to that; but we tried it and it seemed to make little difference in his behavior in the classroom.

He was still as flighty as a bumblebee and as talkative as his mother. Ahem.

His first grade teacher laid down the law with him and he did fine in her classroom. Not perfect, but acceptable. In fact, I remember how shocked Jon and I both were in that first parent/teacher conference with her when she said "Caleb? He's just fine!" We both were thinking "Are you sure you mean our Caleb?"

What a relief!

But three months into the school year we made this move and landed in our current school district. Caleb's classroom had twenty seven students and two teachers (thank GOD for that!) and you'd have thought he'd be fine.

Oh, no.

He wasn't getting work done, ever. He never stopped talking. He was constantly on the move, whether at his desk or around the room. His classroom teacher complained via email almost every day and it was frustrating for all of us.

When he entered second grade last fall, his teacher had never even met him. By Christmas, she started saying "Maybe we need to implement some strategies for Caleb to be better at getting his work done." We told her that she was the boss and whatever she wanted to do in her classroom was good enough for us.

Poor lady.

She tried giving him a sticker chart and prizes. That worked for about, oh, two days. She then resorted to moving his desk away from the others. I'm sure you remember what happened there.

Just after his birthday, she called me and suggested that maybe she should speak to the school counselor and see about getting him tested for what seemed to be increasing attention issues. I had told her that it sounded like a plan to me. I had missed her call due to this excitement and had to call her back.

You see, Caleb wasn't just having issues at school. Caleb was not able to listen at home, not able to stop wiggling at church; no consequence we imposed for not following the rules was working.

Not a single one. This kid even lost the privilege of going to Chuck E. Cheese for his birthday, something he'd talked about for months and he didn't even care.

The school counselor and Caleb's teacher put their heads together and then they sent me a pile of paperwork to fill out. I made an appointment with Caleb's pediatrician on the advice of my Mom (thanks, Mom!) and his pediatrician said that as soon as I received the counselor's written report to bring it and Caleb back to his office.

He took me seriously, thank God. I was starting to lose it.

In the mean time, the clinic sent me some more questionairres to fill out and one additional one for his teacher. Did I mention that Caleb's teacher wrote the pediatrician a letter expressing her concerns for me to take to his initial appointment? Dr. S said it was "very helpful".

Man, am I glad I thought of it.

Almost ten days later, which was last week, I had all the paperwork together and picked Caleb up from school and took him in to see Dr S. Doc took one look at the numbers on the counselors report and said "Yep, we have a case of ADHD here."

After what has been months of prayer, consideration of what's best for Caleb and our family, and discussion with each other, Jon and I decided that the best course of action at this time is medication for Caleb.

He started a very low dose of Adderall last week and it's already helping tremendously. His teacher is amazed!

Frankly, so am I!

Now, I know that there are definite reasons why medication is chosen and definite reasons why people feel that it's a bad idea.

I get that. Believe me, I do.

I just didn't expect such a strong reaction to even the suggestion that we were thinking of using medication to help Caleb.

And from church family, too. It wasn't pretty. It was painful.

"You know, if you choose medication, you'll never get him off of it."

Like I haven't had days where I've felt guilty enough for choosing this, thankyouverymuch. But a very wise friend (thank you, E!!) has told me that if it's what's best, screw what others think. They have no idea what we've been dealing with day in and day out and have no basis to decide the validity of what we're doing.

For now, it's what's best. For all of us.

ah, wisconsin

The boys were on spring break last week. That's most of the reason that I haven't been posting; that and there was really nothing to say. haha.

Matthew got home around 9pm on Monday. He was a bit sunburned and pretty tired, but he couldn't resist showing me all the "stuff" he bought at the park gift shops. He took a few pictures, but they're mostly of his friends sound asleep on the bus.

Caleb and I had a great time on our extended weekend. The weather was PERFECT and we spent a TON of time outdoors; we even ate meals outside too thanks to our new patio set.

I realized on Monday morning that I hadn't taken one single picture all of Easter weekend. Not one. I hate when I do that.

Most of the tulips and daffodils are up in the yard.

And this morning, they are MAD. I know, I know; dogs get mad, people get angry. No one says that poor flowers covered in a freak April accumulating snow can't be mad. I would be.

There's rumor that by next week, we'll be back to spring again. I'll believe it when I see it.

leavin' on a jet plane coach bus

I've spent most of the last two days getting Matthew ready for his trip to Florida.

At 5:45am, he hugged me and boarded the bus. After about two minutes, I followed the lead of about half of the parents and got in my car and drove away. No sense of watching the buses pull out, that was just gonna increase the chance that I was going to have dramatically impaired vision for the drive home.

Tomorrow morning's first stop is Magic Kingdom.

I should have stowed away under the bus.

get up

Being at retreat was definitely a "mountain top" experience.

Being home this week has been a rather harsh dose of reality.

Caleb's struggling. We're struggling to help him. His teacher is an eternal optimist, bless her. But the school psychologist couldn't be dragging her feet any more, and that's frustrating.

I had more than one huge moment this week where I felt like everything we're doing for Caleb is wrong and that I just wasn't cut out to parent any child, let alone one who is experiencing all this difficulty with school and having issues at home as well.

But it was pointed out to me that no parent is perfect, just as no child is perfect; and that the most important thing we can do for Caleb is to love him. And to let him know that we love him.

And to remember that God loves Caleb even more than we do and He wants what's best for him infinitely more than we do.

We'll plod along and figure it out, knowing that Caleb is in God's hands and there is no better place for him.

process

I'm still sorting through all that was placed on my heart at retreat. While I promise to tell you all about it in the next few days, I have to tell you this.

Satan did a number on me last week. He had me completely convinced that I could not do the job that was placed in my hands for retreat. And I was in the thick of believing it too; so much so that when the transmission on my van went out just hours before I was to leave, I seriously considered calling the director, who just happens to be my Pastor's wife, and telling her that I decided that I couldn't lead music after all and I needed to stay home.

I'm more glad than EVER that I went to retreat.

And while I'm working on telling you all those details, I have to share with you yesterday afternoon.

One good thing about our retreat location is that it was in the town where our church's music director and her husband live. And the one other time that ladies retreat was held there, we were invited to lunch at Shawn Del's as a group after conclusion of retreat on Sunday. And she is an amazing cook, so we don't say "no".

We're not idiots.

After an amazing lunch at Shawn Del's, I headed back to my brother-in-law's to return his vehicle, which he had graciously loaned me for the weekend. And Jas, if you read this, you still have my garage door opener....haha.

Anyway, I took what my husband calls "the long route" from the house back to the interstate and this song started to play from the CD changer in the car. I'd heard it before, but it had been awhile. It really spoke to me, and the entire ride home I just kept hitting the 'back' button to make it replay.

I just wanted to share it with you, since in a nutshell, it's a great way of kinda encapsulating my retreat experience.

nerves

Retreat doesn't start for two more days. And I'm already in a shallow breathing kind of state of nerves.

Contrary to popular belief, you know because I tend to be bossy and I talk a LOT; I don't want the focus on me. And whether I like it or not, some of it will be.

This is definitely out of my comfort zone.

Can I ask you to just pray that my "gentleness be evident to all"?

I tend to get super anxious when the little plan in my head starts to fall apart, whether I have control or not. And let's face it; whether the praise and worship part of retreat goes well isn't all in my control. There's a pianist and a powerpoint person. And then there's me.

No, I won't go there.

Things happen. I need to deal, no matter what.

I hope all will go well. And retreat will be amazing no matter what. It will be full of fellowship and fun and most of all, GOD always meets us there.

That's my story and for the sake of my nerves, I'm sticking to it.

I am...

....the mother of a child whose hands are now bigger than mine. Yikes.


.....not ready for said child to be taller than me; he's gonna gloat something fierce.