A Fancy Little Way for a House to Say HEY!

This fall, a sister of a friend of Fred's (follow that?) found me on facebook and questioned me a bit about creating an Etsy account since I have one. I answered her questions and finally asked - what are you making?

Door Art!

Door art is something kind of big here in Lincoln - but not sure how far this trend has reached. I have a small collection myself - a pair of mittens, a Christmas tree, an acorn and the original red flower that started it all. But now, thanks to P & J Peddlers, I have an "S" to adorn my door with.

A fraction of the price of the ones sold in fancy schmancy homey stores around here - and if you live in Lincoln she will work out a drop off to avoid shipping. Color me excited!! In fact, I came home and had it hanging up in less than 3 minutes. Then I went back to let Elliot out of the car...

Every time I pull in the driveway I think "Welcome Home, Seckmans!"

We were ready.
We were prepared for the worst... Yet optimistic for the best.

Elliot "ran out" of diapers on Thanksgiving night and woke up to an empty space where the diapers used to be. Oh well, guess you'll have to wear underwear!

Fred told Elliot that the same thing happened to him when he was little - his mommy and daddy ran out of diapers so he had to start wearing underwear too. That's when he became a big boy and used the potty.

One full day - and only two real accidents.
So far so good!

(Sorry for the lame post, it really is the ONLY thing going on!)

Keep Your Spirit to Yourself

While I do appreciate a good set of Christmas lights hung perfectly around the roof of a home, I do think there's something to be said for waiting until after Thanksgiving to start the festivities.

Some people will argue that October is simply better weather to be up on your roof clipping lights around the place. I get that. Turn them on to test them out. I get that. Turning them on every night since two days before Halloween? Uh... Hmm. (scratching head) Okaaay.

But they start selling the holiday gear in August (it gets earlier every year, right?) so I am compelled to buy it and get it set up!

First let's carve the pumpkins, then roast (or fry - yummy!) the turkeys, then put up the strands of lights. And repeat those three items like Dora the Explorer does: Pumpkins, Turkeys, Strands of Lights. Pumkins, Turkeys, Strands of Lights.

And -- perhaps a little tiny bit selfishly -- I am SICK TO DEATH of having to say "oh yeah!" "uh-huh!" "mm-hmm!" to Elliot every. time. he sees someones house is outfitted with 'Cwrissus Ylites.'

Grounded

Sometimes we get so distracted and consumed by the tiniest of details that - at the time - seem like major, potentially earth-moving events. A constant crush of feeling like there are not enough hours in the day. Every day.

Elliot potties at daycare but won't enter the bathroom at home.
Sienna wakes us up every morning at 5 demanding food.
Needing to find time to mow and rake up the leaves.
Finding time for Fred to put in his long weekend runs.

Details, details, details that have turned into crisis, panic and stress.

This morning a good friend of mine, her husband and their two dogs lost their house and home to a fire. And my heart breaks for them. And it puts this all into perspective - and suddenly I am consumed with thinking about what I can do to help instead of what will be on the table for dinner.

Joanne: A Rose Nylon by Another Name

I was in a three-day training last week. Before you get jealous thinking I was shipped off to a warmer land with a cabana boy at my disposal let me tell you I was trapped in an office with no windows, two laptops glaring at me and hooked to the training via conference call. For. three. entire. days.

Before taking this class, I think one should brush up their tech-savvy-ness like... oh I don't know... figure out where the Shift key is. Ladies and Gentlemen and Internet, let me introduce you to Joanne. A lovely lady, I'm sure, from Pleasanton, California that managed to make me scowl at her through the phone when we were only 45 minutes into Day 1.

To all my older readers - don't get all up in arms about what I'm trying to say. Other than Shift, she also had a hard time finding the F1 key. I trust that each and every one of you, if I asked you to, could manage to find those on your keyboard.

Here are some snippets (with what I was yelling at the phone):

Instructor: Okay, guys, now to get to B you just have to enter in A.
Joanne: Excuse me, I have a question. How do you get to B then?
I: You have to enter in A.
J: Then it will go to B?
I: Yes.
A: AUGH For the love of sweet baby Jesus! ENTER A!!
-----
J: I'm sorry, I have to leave for 5 minutes. Can you just talk really slowly?
I: (Silence that sounded like confusion and head-scratching)
A: WTF Lady?!
-----
J: Excuse me, I can't find that F1 key.
I: Joanne, the F1 Key is right above Q.
A: You make me want to bang my head into a bucket of nails!
-----
J: I can't hear you because there's people outside my window. I'm gonna miss some stuff so you'll have to repeat it all in a while when they're done.
I: Um.... Class, let's just take a break. Joanne, stay on the line.
A: (Chanting and pounding fists on desk) Toss her out! Toss her out!

He didn't toss her out. But, by the end of three days I was thanking the inventor of the mute button so I could mumble obscenities at her and figured out how to manage my anger.

Every time she started in with her meek 'Excuse me' bit, I'd head for the bathroom. Read a few books, wrote a letter to Santa and even had time to build a model train. By the time I'd get back the instructor would just be finishing with her and moving on. Awesome.

Dear Grandpa Frank and Judy

Hi Grandpa Frank. Hi Judy.

I can call you that, right? You see, I'm just so busy that I can't take the time to add Grandma to your name. And now when I talk about you people ask my mom if that is her dad's "special friend" and she gets flustered and has to tell them no. I think its funny.

Thank you for coming from 'acago' (Chicago) in your car - no motocyca cause iss loud - and playing with me this weekend. I really liked when you read me the same book about firetrucks 347 times.

Did you know I like firetrucks? And firetruck guys? I was a firefighter for Halloween - Happy Twricker Twreat! - here, let me get dressed up for you again. Oh No! Kitty's on fire! I hafta go to da stashun!

Grandpa Frank, I call my mom a worm now. I think its funny; she just gives me a look. I never knew about tickle worms and how they always think it's Tickle Time. Now I know. And no, still not time. Also, the candies were yummy. I can't believe, though, that you actually made me work for them by telling you the color. I'll tell you whatever you want if you've got candy.

Judy, thanks for playing trains with me a lot this weekend - I think its fun to make trains wreck. I was so happy to see you at my school on Friday that I actually ran right past my mom and straight to you! Thanks for sitting in the backseat of Daddy's truck with me when we went shopping, I love having company.

I miss you guys already. Love, Elliot

A Holy Update

In addition to still spouting "Holy Crap" at things, he now also uses Holy Cow and Holy God. Just thought I'd let you know.

Can I Get a "Holy Crap" Over Here?

My parents sent Elliot a box full of Halloween candy and other goodies and as Elliot opened it up and stared in awe, Fred came over his shoulder commenting "Holy crap! That's a lot of candy!"

Elliot sort of nodded and said "Hodee crap!"

(Insert image of Fred and I laughing so hard we're shaking but trying so desperately hard to not let Elliot know it was funny.)

We ignored it and hoped it would go away.

1. Halloween Day. We head over to Stacey's house to trick-or-treat and as we're walking up to the porch filled with pumpkins and gourds he yells "Hodee crap! Looka da pumpkins!"

2. Halloween Night. We're driving to Tecumseh and pass the train tracks outside of Syracuse when Elliot looks over and sees the trains. "TWO trains?!! Hodee crap!"

3. This Morning. Driving into downtown on our way to daycare we pass a building that's been under construction for the last few weeks. "Mommy look! Hodee crap a bucket truck!"

So, yeah, on one hand, Daddy taught him a not-very-pleasant phrase. On the other hand, he uses it in the right context flawlessly. And shouldn't that be commended?