Northern Noise

Our son just entered his first science fair. His inspiration was the magnet he swallowed last spring - why didn't it digest in his system like food? It's a pretty cool question and he enjoyed doing the project with his father. He even had the actual magnet which passed from bow to stern, as well as the xray. The problem came after we turned the project in. It turns out this kid is competitive. He not only wants to win the blue ribbon, he wants to beat all of his friends and then let everyone know. Granted, he was hoping to tie with his super best buddy, but his wish was that everyone else would leave crying and envious. So we did the "good parent" stuff and talked about competition, and the joys of learning, and being proud for just doing your best. I'm not sure it worked. So I did what I always do and called my mom for advice. Turns out, I wasn't competitive as a child - at least not against others. I was competitive within myself and, it sure sounds

For those folks who have never visited my house, we live in the middle of nowhere. Simply getting up our driveway requires 4 wheel drive most of the year. Needless to say we don't get many casual visitors. The few times folks have dropped by unannounced, we're usually alerted by the dogs first. We have had a few missionaries, and once a forest service guy stopped by to remind us about fire safety... but that's about it. There was this one time when Bob was out of town. I was asleep upstairs when I heard the dog start growling in the kitchen below. A low, grrr that was distinctly hostile and woke me up immediately. As I listened, I could hear footsteps crunching on the snow outside in the clear late November night. Someone was definitely outside my house. I looked at the clock; it was a little after 2:00 am. This wasn't right. After a moment to calm myself, I got out of bed, grabbed the shotgun from it's place in the corner, and popped in 3 shells. With a de

A few weeks ago, I posted a status update on FB - "things I never expected to hear myself say. As I was interacting with my son/Han Solo/ Jed the Cowboy this morning it occurred to me that any sane person coming into my house would think I'm a crazy woman. Here's a sample of things I've found myself saying the past day or two.... 1) Don't shoot the cook. Especially when she's mama and she's in the kitchen making your dinner. Go shoot your father. 2) I don't care if ripped jeans make you look cool. You're 6, I'm tossing them. 3) Please stop calling your sister Stinky McStinker Pot. It's not very nice. 4) No, you may not pee in the potted plant. 5) I don't care if people in the Micheal Jackson "Beat It" video fight with knives, you may not. Even if the knife is plastic. They're trained professionals. 6) If I hear the word poop one more time, I'm running away from home. Please don't call the authorities - we

"I'm glad you're 41, Mama." "Why's that?" "'Cause it's a good age for a mama. And you're not that old for your age." Gotta love an almost 7 year old who gets almost as excited for his mama's birthday as he does for his own. He decided last night that he needed to get up early & wake up his papa to make me coffee in bed. Coffee in bed is almost as good as a morning of sleeping in!

Yesterday was parent teacher conference day for the kids. It was great to be able to go as a parent, instead of sitting as a teacher, and check in on my kids. In elementary school there's a set time, so I always make those, but since the girls got older I've often missed them. When the oldest was at my school, I'd get a scoop but I've missed middle child's conferences since she hit middle school. She's a pretty good student & nice kid, so there haven't been problems, which also seems to make it easier to miss conference time. So I went around to all six of her teachers to get the scoop on her progress, behavior, and skills. The first five conferences were pretty standard for her - she's great, smart, needs to remember to turn her homework in on time. In her German class she has 104%, which is pretty amazing. Her teacher really wants to take her to Germany next year for an exchange; what an awesome opportunity. Her last teacher gave the typical

"Marriage has no guarantees. If that's what you're looking for, go live with a car battery." ~Erma Bombeck As I write this, my husband is at the office, our puppy is barking at the old dog who is whining and running back and forth to the kitchen trying to escape. My son is playing a game of Georgia vs. South Carolina football all by himself, tackling and throwing and even providing play by play announcing. There's dirt on the floor from where the puppy climbed into the plant, laundry to be folded, and dinner to be made. A South Beach dinner, by the way because my husband decided today was the day to start "serious weight loss." So why have I had the best Valentine's day ever?? Well, I woke up to the sound of my son laughing in the living room, playing with the puppy. I was snuggled next to the best husband in the world, who had let me sleep in while he got up and dealt with the boy & puppy earlier in the morning. The sun was shining tod

It's been sunny the past two days. Yesterday was a veritable heat wave of 30 degrees. The sunshine on our south facing roof began to drip. I left my coat in the car. The puppy refused to come inside, having stayed outside long enough to find her first dirt under the deck. I almost was lured into forgetting that it's only mid-February and this isn't really spring. Today wasn't quite as warm but the sunshine was out again. The world looks different in the sun. Knowing that I dropped my son off at school in daylight and it's still light at 5:00 makes things seem more positive for some reason. The spring sun makes me feel optimistic. I find myself making lists of yard chores, and thinking about what I'm going to plant this year. I skip right over the cleaning up winter debris - trash that's blown from the truck, dog poo that's thawing slowly in the shade. Maybe the winter debris fairies will come and take care of that, leaving me with a spotless yar

Well it's 40 below and I don't give a f**k Got a heater in my truck and I'm off to the rodeo I got a new pickup truck. For a variety of reasons my husband decided it best to trade in my beloved Chevy Tahoe and the vehicle deemed to be best suited to our lifestyle is a new Crew Cab Silverado. My husband is pleased with the lower payments, insurance savings, and warranty. I'm just tickled all sorts of shades of pink to be back in a pickup. When I was younger my dream vehicle was a 1970's model Ford F-150 shortbed. There was a cool guy from Nikiski who drove one. His was black, but my ideal was a dark metallic blue, with a rollbar and spotlights. Sigh.... My first new vehicle ever was a black, 1992 Ford Ranger pickup. I felt so damn cool in that truck. Sunroof, cool teal splash decals, cassette player. I negotiated it myself after I got my first "real" job. I was so pleased that I talked 'em down several thousand dollars. If only my parents had