To Paint ... or NOT to Paint

I have a huge dilemma. I need your advice.

This is where you come out from lurking on my blog to actually ... leaving a comment.

I know that's a scary thing ... but you can do it. I know you can. I see how many read this blog daily, so I should at least have 5,483 comments.

Okay. Maybe 5.

Anyway -- here's my dilemma. I have to repaint my kitchen. The kitchen melts into the family room. I'm pretty sure my husband will NOT allow me to repaint the family room, as it has cathedral ceilings ... and ... well, you get the picture. the color needs to match, and all that good stuff.

So, we also want to replace the perfectly good counters we currently have... because when we first moved in, I'm not exactly sure what possessed us, but something in a spiritual, demonic and oppressive form came over us, and MADE us select a Formica counter top that was close to teal in color with all kinds of speckle-y, squiggly, line-y things on it.

Satan made us do it.

But now, we want a different color wall, and we're finding that NOTHING except what we currently have goes with it. And I really, REALLY want a green on the walls -- like a Broadleaf or Belladonna. Not teal. A real green. See samples below...

So -- the dilemma -- should I repaint the kitchen pretty much the same color? Or ... should I paint it a color that TOTALLY does NOT match the counter, and just wait it out until we replace the counter with a neutral color in a couple months?

What would you do? Did I make sense?

Can you see how the evil one made me choose teal?

In Which I Admitt...

I have a black thumb.

And yet, I insist on having a garden again this year.

Because my husband does not have a black thumb.

Praise the Lord!

And who can resist home-grown nutritious goodness?

So last year, we had a small garden, and it did "okay." This year, I want it to do WAY BETTER than okay. Last year, we planted our garden right into the ground, but didn't rectify the soil. We purchased our plants, and before we had a chance to purchase good soil, sand, manure, etc... my sweet father-in-law planted our veggies in the clay. I'm sure my anxious son had everything to do with it.

This year, my husband -- the wonderful man that he is -- is building me two 8x4 raised garden beds, and I tell you -- I'm GIDDY with anticipation. I can't wait to fill it with good soil, manure, and sand, mix it up, and plant lots of wholesome things. One of them is built and will be filled with a good mixture of dirty stuff for planting this weekend. Hopefully, the next one will be built next week.

Last year, the bunnies ate all my green beans and my cantaloupe. That was a heart breaking thing. My peppers did not fare well AT ALL. They seemed to rot before they ever ripened. My tomatoes did all right, but not spectacular. And in retrospect, I'm thinking of keeping my garden sweet and simple. Tomatoes, lettuce, greens, cukes, Peruvian yellow hot peppers, and maybe a couple other things. I guess my plan is to focus on a hand full of things and do them well. And in the fall (late summer), I'll plant more lettuce, more greens, and garlic. Doesn't that sound delicious? Home grown garlic? Why, yes... yes it does.

It might be too late to plant strawberries... but I would LOVE to have some. We'll see how that goes.

So...

What's in YOUR garden? How are your plans faring?

Not MY Child!!!

This past weekend, a coworker of mine invited me to her adorable home for a Southern Living Party. She told me I could bring Hunter with me, and he could play with her girls and the other kids that would be there.

I love to take Hunter to places where there are other kids, because he loves to play with them and we only have one child in our neighborhood that is his age, so I take any opportunity handed to me to introduce Hunter to other kids! He is such a friendly and outgoing child – and he gets that honest. Both my husband and I are very outgoing, too. And for the most part, Hunter was a perfectly behaved three year old.

At some point during the evening, the other kids (three girls and one boy – all cousins), went and changed into their pajamas – the girls all had on pink little shorts and matching tops for pajamas – cute, cute, cute. After a quick fashion show, they ran downstairs to play while the adults stayed upstairs to pour through the catalog and finish up our snacks.

And then it got ugly.

All of a sudden we hear squealing, and the little girls running up the stairs saying, "Mommy, there’s a naked BOY downstairs."

Now, all the other kids were first cousins – so you just KNOW that if one of them were naked, they would have said their name. But NOOOOOOoooooo. They said "boy" – and I immediately knew. A mother just knows these things.

My child was the "naked boy" they were referring to. It's what all mother's live for. An announcement to the world that their child is a stripper.

I flew down those stairs to the rec room -- I went as fast as a crazed woman with two sprained ankles could possibly go. Sure enough, the sight that met my eyes was my naked child dancing around at the bottom of the stairs... laughing and having a grand time ... as all the other moms congregated at the top of the stairs -- laughing hysterically. And when I say naked, I MEAN NEEEHH--KEEEED.

Fortunately, none of the children were over the age of 4, and none of them had any singles in their pajama pockets. Dude, you KNOW I bought one of the more expensive things that night to try and "make up" for my kid's embarrassing romp.

What a great first impression.

I'm praying this doesn't set a precedent for when he goes to pre-school in the fall... especially since we’re hoping to get him into a Christian pre-school! Lol!!!

Isn't that just precious?

THIS is how rumors get started!

Let me just begin by saying... I must be the MOST paranoid person in the entire universe. And curious. Although, I'm pretty certain some would call it nosey.

Last night, my husband told me he had to stay after church for worship practice and he would catch a ride home with the Pastorman. That news brought mixed emotions, because on one hand, I was happy to go home, as I was tired from a long, long day... but on the other hand, I would have to drive using my LEFT foot, and after having been on both of my feet all day long, and having to drive with my left foot all cockeyed, both my "kankles" were killing me. I did not feel like driving home and putting Hunter to bed alone. But I did anyway.

We got home around 8:45-ish, and by the time our night-time routine was done, Hunter was getting into bed at 9:30. My husband still wasn't home, which isn't at all unusual, but I was so tired and didn't feel like waiting up. So off went all the lights. I couldn't remember if he had his extra set of keys with him, so I left the front door unlocked. I was just about to crawl into bed when I heard what sounded like a big truck. Then I heard a sound like a metal rolling door being opened.

So I peeked out the window, and saw a big rental moving truck in our neighbor's driveway.

How odd. A moving truck -- at 9:30 pm. In my neighbor's driveway -- who is from South America. Bolivia, I think. And the people I saw on the driveway did not look Latin, except for one.

Warning bells started ringing in my brain. My imagination kicked into high gear. Someone must be robbing my neighbor. I was just getting ready to hobble over to get the phone and call the cops, when instead of LOADING the truck, someone climbed in and began UNLOADING the truck. How odd. They were tossing out small bundles to someone.

And I started thinking. Are they really from Bolivia? Or was it Colombia? Neighbors from Bolivia or Colombia -- South AMERICA?!? It MUST be drugs. It LOOKS like bundles of marijuana! And I’m home alone with my three year old -- with the front door unlocked -- and I am incapable of tearing myself away from the window because the curiosity?? Oh, it is KILLING me. I MUST LOOK. But, should I call the cops?

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, the person jumped out of the back of the truck, closed the roll-door, and the moving truck left. I strained to see if I could detect any more movement, but there was none, so I reluctantly released the blinds and laid down in bed -- heart pounding in my chest. My husband came home about 5 minutes later and listened patiently to my recap of events.

And then, my ever so cautious husband informed me NEVER to get involved in something like that. Do NOT call the police if I should happen to see them moving drugs again. If they are moving drugs, they will get caught, and we do NOT want to be the whistle blowers.

Which made a whole lot of sense to me.

And then he told me that the local NEWSPAPER, which was just delivered to the neighborhood newspaper boy ... NEXT DOOR ... the one from South America ... would be delivered on Thursday.

Smarty pants. He could have just said it was the newspaper I saw being delivered. In my head, I was already abandoning our home and moving somewhere safer – for my child's sake.

Don't I feel like an idiot.

Lord forgive me anyhow for thinking our neighbors were the friendly neighborhood trafficking cartel.

Being An Only Child

I can only imagine how difficult and lonely it must be for Hunter, being that he's an only child.

When he's at daycare, it's okay. He has many friends he can play with, and he doesn't get lonely. He's well entertained, and his imagination is exercised. Soon, he'll start pre-school, and that too will be good for him. His mind will be stretched, and he'll hopefully begin to grow mentally in leaps and bounds. He will LOVE school.

But when he's at home? Or in the car? Or at a restaurant? Or... anywhere where there aren't other kids... he gets bored. He can't, or rather, doesn't play alone. He wants our full attention, wants us to play with him, interrupts us if we try to hold an adult conversation, jumps on us... the list goes on, and on, and on. We've tried to teach him to play alone, tried training him, we've even tried leaving him home alone. Okay. We haven't really left him home alone. That was just a lame attempt to be funny.

Ha. Ha.

Anyway -- imagine my joy when yesterday, he spent a good 20 minutes if not more... playing alone in the kitchen. Granted, he emptied every single one of my pans and lids out from one of the cabinets, but he had fun pretending to bake a cake, talk to it, fall on it, roll on the floor like he was writhing in pain, and pretend to die.

What can I say. He's a boy. And a drama-queen. But not a drag-queen. No, no. Let's not get THAT rumor started. Although, he did mention to the Pastorman on Sunday morning that he loves pink.

I don't think he really meant it.

Please pray that he didn't.

So, we are starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. He is slowly learning to play alone. Not alone-alone -- we're in the same room, but we're NOT on the floor pushing trains and dragging tractors around the room. We're having an adult conversation. Praise God.

Does any one have tips for this mom of one child?

I think I've seen it all...

The food world has seen many changes in the last few years... from the gourmet craze, to the health craze, to the organic craze, to the home grown craze, the natural grain craze... and these crazes aren't necessarily bad, either. Some of them have even found a place in my own home. Healthy eating, home grown veggies, organic stuff -- yep. It can all be eaten in my own home.

But today, I was watching a show on the British Network, and was shocked to hear of something new hitting the "gourmet" scene. I tell you... I was honestly speechless. And it takes a lot to get me like that. Evidently, this particular product is popular in ... well, I'm not really sure WHERE it's really popular, but at least you can say you heard about it here--at Kisses of Sunshine--where we bring all things delectable to your attention.

So... where am I going with this?

Oh, yes... the new product. Are you ready for this???

Horse Milk.

Yep. That's it. I saw it on a Gordon Elliott show... I know -- not the most wholesome show out there, but hey -- what else can you get in the middle of the day on cable?? lol.

But seriously -- people out there are actually milking mares. Evidently, horse milk has 50% less fat than cow's milk, and they say it is good for those who have allergies or skin conditions.

Personally, I think I'll stay away from it ... but since we do have cow's milk, goat's milk, and sheep's milk, you kind of had to know it was coming down the line!

Feeling a little horsey? Naaaaay!

Ick.

Get your kid to ...

I've decided to write a prolific book on how to get your kids to do all kinds of stuff ... including go to sleep at night on their own. Because I'm the master.

So.

How do you do it?

Well, first, you step off a curb and roll your left ankle. Then, step off the curb with your other foot and roll that ankle, too. Now that you have two sprained ankles and are remanded to bed, turn the care of your finicky three year old to your husband, who will have him whipped into shape, and will break all the bad habits mom created in no time flat.

And that, my friends, is how you do it.

What do you think? It may not give me the "Mom of the Year"award, but do you think it might be ... a Best Seller???

Actually, Dad certainly deserves "Dad of the Year" award, because for the most part, Hunter now goes to bed when told to, without crying too much, or demanding that we stay in his room until he falls asleep... and a mom has too gentle a heart to stop -- especially when the kid pulls out the "pleasie-pleasie??" on you.

So now, Hunter's new bed-time routine is: eat bed-time snack (usually fruit or dried cranberries), change into jammies, brush teeth and wash face, watch 1 Dora show, pray in mom and dad's room, then dad walks him to bed, kisses goodnight, and voila. Done.

Thanks Daddy for taking control of a bad situation and making it all better!

Chapter two: How to Potty Train a Lazy Child. Coming soon.

Good bye, Zumba...

And running.

And dancing.

And walking.

And all things involving ANYTHING that needs a foot. Either foot.

Friday afternoon, when leaving work, I stepped off the curb and rolled my left ankle. In the process of planting my right foot down to stabilize myself, I rolled that one too. Two sprained ankles.

Give me two, 'cause one won't do.

I went to the emergency room -- had no broken bones, fortunately. Just serious sprains. Have you ever tried using crutches with two sprained ankles? Impossible.

So, Zumba will be on hold for a while. Or two.

And my ankles will be wrapped. Both.

Lovely.

There's a reason my husband calls me Grace. Or Calamity Jane. You pick.