Making Life Easier

I have been organizing a friend's paperwork. Because I like it. I know that is strange, but she is dealing with a long term medical crisis in her family and she asked me if I could take it over for her for pay. She and I have been friends since college, and there is no one I would rather do this for.

I have enjoyed getting her stuffed chronologically filed and her bills on a schedule to be paid automatically. Dealing with several years' worth of paper has me thinking of the most efficient ways to do this, and it has me dealing with some of my own paper clutter. Photographs are my main paper issue. I have so many that I could never part with --so many in frames and oodles of albums. Space is becoming quite an issue!

I recently purchased an external hard drive and have moved over all photos from my computer. It feels great to have these backed up, but what about all of my pre-digital stuff? Looks like some serious scanning is in my future.

Tonight I was really getting down to the last of the photos and making some decisions about more albums, etc. I have even put several photos of ancestors in an album, all black and whites, names, dates of birth (if I know), and how they are related. Sweet N was right there with me, asking what he could organize. We even moved a little furniture around, placed a few things, and he got into a drawer with cords and electronics. He sorted and untangled these for awhile and did not want to quit! Later he said, "It feels good to be organized, doesn't it? It sorta makes our life easier, right?"

Oh, out of the mouths of babes. But where is that voice when I am tossing random things in a drawer and slamming it shut?Ok, just had to go and scan this one for ya! It is my paternal grandmother (standing, middle) who was the oldest of 5 girls. They posed with their mother for this shot in about 1936. I think each one looks absolutely stunning.

"Back when A was an Angel . . ."

I am loving these gift tags that I turned into ornaments years ago. When I pull them out each Christmas, it is a gift to me all over again! This first one though, was made by my older in Sunday school. When N saw it, he said, "Oh . . . back when A was an angel!" It made me laugh so hard. Back when . . .

Beneath are some angelic photos of little N. First grade has him showing a little gap-toothed smile, second grade reveals a haircut that was a little too short (related to me), and third grade . . . well, that is when he got a cool necklace which made him WAY too cool to smile! Love them all.

If you can't stand the heat . . .

Now I remember why I stopped all the Christmas baking about 4 years ago. Well, not all. I had to make one batch of each family member’s favorite. We had homemade Heath bar, peanut butter balls (or buckeyes), and decorated cookies. Enough, right? Well, for some reason I felt the compulsion to start it all up again like I used to. I am glad I do not like sugar as much as I did, but it still has a firm pull on me!

I looked up how to make pralines, something that has seldom turned out for me, and one reviewer of Paula Deen’s recipe said these tasted just like her grandmother’s. My result might have tasted like somebody’s grandmother’s, but not like my grandmother’s, which is the gold standard. That lady could churn out shirtboxes by the dozen, full of the most beautiful variety of homemade candy. I can do peanut brittle almost like hers, but the rest . . . well, I need some tips. My attempt at divinity today looked promising. Then it got all dry at the end. What did I do? Beat it too long? Cook the second half of the syrup too long? Oh, too many factors. Besides, I need to go back to the one batch of each person’s favorite. The trouble is, I can’t choose a favorite! Maybe that’s why I am attempting all of the contenders that would make it to my top choice.

Tonight I was doing several things at once in the kitchen and enlisted N’s help in doing a few dishes. He has taken several batches of chocolate mint brownies to school for different ones who have helped him so much. So while I was cutting into another pan of those, he was rinsing a plate on which I had mixed spices together to sprinkle on chicken. He asked if he could taste it, and I warned him he would not like it but he could try if he wanted. (Paprika, garlic, pepper, salt, red pepper, thyme, etc.) He put his finger in and licked it, then said, “Tastes tingly. I like it.” I was surprised. A few seconds later, “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” It is cute when he is waiting for my laugh.

Veins and CPR

Today N experienced more of the mysterious stomach pain (which fades as the day progresses). Is this anxiety? We are also between two other medical issues—oral surgery for an anklyosed molar (plus various case scenarios for implant and orthodontia, totally unrelated to Down syndrome) and the sleep study coming up very soon. All this individually makes me concerned , but it is all happening simultaneously in my head today. After the oral surgeon consult earlier, we went shoe shopping (no, for him!) and got some pumpkin yogurt.

On the way home from all our errands, N said, “I think my muscles are getting bigger.” Since his swimming hiatus, he has been concerned about a decline in his physique. “You know, Tim has this big vein that pops out of his muscle when he shakes my hand. I wish I had one.” (Tim is his beloved youth pastor.) “Mom, do you think my muscle is getting bigger?” “Hmm, I dunno. Maybe,” I answered. Then he said, “Well, I think . . . . . I do see . . . . you know, . . . . a vein appearing . . . .” It was hard to contain myself and I cracked up, which really puzzled my poor fellow.

This was after he explained to me while we were in the exam room that he thought it would be cool to be a lifeguard. He said he was sure he could pull anyone out of the water who needed help, but he would only be able to do CPR on the girls -- not the guys. He clearly had thought this out. I never know what’s coming next! These moments are so funny to me and keep me from getting too wrapped up in the other stuff.

Hippie Giant

So we are following the World Series around here and are a little disappointed in the performance of the Texas Rangers. So, what is a sports fan to do, except pick on the appearance of the other team? (Have I mentioned that my son is a little competitive??)

Heard from the next room as soon as the game is turned on, "HOLY COW, their pitcher is a hippie!!" Was that my husband? No, his son. Sorry, Giants, but he does have long-ish hair.

Day Nine -- Eddie is on the loose

So many funny things, as I have said before, roll out of N's mouth, that I can't keep up with them all. Most recently, we were leaving a store and a car drove by as we were about to step off the curb. "HEY, there goes Eddie Murphy!!!", a totally convinced and incredulous N said. "Umm, I don't think that was him," I said. Oh, he was pretty sure alright and could not be talked out of it. Number One, Eddie is not likely to be visiting our state. Number Two, he is definitely not likely to be riding shotgun in a 1980-something gold Honda Civic. (No offense if that is what you drive. I just don't think Eddie is likely to be chauffered in one.) I still smile, though, to think about how sure of it he was, because he has been right many times when I have not.

Now, People, Get Real

For some reason, N.’s various comments about life in general have me laughing so much lately. He has so many one-liners that I can’t keep up with them. Here are a few:

*We thought we would have the pool to ourselves several nights ago, but there were a few families with children there. (No tiny ones, though, and crying is something he detests.) N’s disappointment was palpable and when I asked him about it, he said, “I think I’ll tell them it’s past their bedtime.”

*I think he has picked up on the anxiety I have about his new school and entry into high school, so he tries to keep things light. (Always so concerned for me—SWEET. Except for when he is in teenage mode.) I was expressing concern for his back, which has been hurting a lot lately. His backpack is ridiculously heavy, and I said that it was. His reply --- “That’s just the way high school rolls, Mom.”

*We were discussing his sleep patterns and the doctor’s recommendation for another sleep study. I told him that they might recommend another C-PAP machine or another surgery. He said, “I’ll stick with Plan A.” I burst out laughing. (Not sure if he meant not going for the study or getting the C-PAP machine!)

*He loves to sort through the mail in the afternoon and I heard him muttering, “Now, people, get real”. He had come across a catalog selling Christmas wreaths, and he was letting them know it is way too early!

He. cracks. me. up.

ChocoLOVE

Whether its cause is hormonal or triggered by too many changes going on in my life right now, it is undisputable that chocolate is a need and not a “want”. After school today, I decided that N and I would swing by our neighborhood Walgreen’s for some lovely chocolate. Said Walgreen’s has profited greatly by locating near me, if only from my visits to their candy aisle.

Only one thing caused me to lose my laser fine concentration on the task at hand-- N seemed to somehow know each vice that would be more than a subtle temptation for me! He pretty well skipped down the aisle, stopping at each likely spot to sway me. “Dark chocolate Raisinets, Mom?” I snapped to attention only briefly, as I was pondering the dark chocolate with red pepper by Lindt. While I was comparing the finer points of various Dove promises, he went straight to the coconut M&M’s, and said, “Ooooh, look, your favorite!” (I do love them so.) He has been paying much closer attention than I thought. (And he isn’t even in on half of these trips for the quick fix.)

I was disappointed that there were not more Dove promises in these small boxes, and he quickly located the BAGS of them. Yay, N! My partner in crime is more adept at finding the bigger versions! I’ll keep him on in his current position.

We got in the car and dug in to our treasure. “Ahhhhhhhhh, chocolate heaven,” said he. I couldn’t have said it better myself.

One Tough Cookie

Last night, after a wrestling match between my husband and "strong-as-an-ox" N, I was passing through the kitchen. N told me, "Your husband is one tough cookie." "Really?", I replied. "Yeah, but I can take him down in less than 10 seconds," said the cocky teenager.