A Personal Challenge

My friend shared this quote with me a few days ago and I've tried to keep it in mind since.

Listening.

It is such a simple thing. Yet. It can be a challenge.

So many things compete for your attention.

Things that need to be done.

Things you want to do.

Voices everywhere. From your spouse. From the television, the computer, the radio, your internal monologue. Even books are excellent at grabbing attention.

We practice tuning things out in order to concentrate on the priority.

So. My challenge must be to make people and especially my family my top priority.

It seems obvious.

But in the moment when a show is at its climax, when a book has sucked me in to the drama, or a blog post is in progress ... an ant, play dough, or a candle just don't seem as important. And, really, that stuff isn't; however, my child is. My husband is.

People are what matter. And they share themselves in little ways.

My personal challenge:

Listen. Make eye contact. Engage and respond.

I want my family to know that they are important to me.

Paper, Rock, Legos

Last week I began Autumn Cleaning Day. Psh. If only it was one day!
The major undertaking was the boys' playroom. Things were all jumbled together in the big bins, miscellaneous papers were mixed into the chaos, and a play table that no one used anymore took up a big portion of play area. And so the sorting and cleaning began.
First of all, I banned the children from the room. (Very important step) Then I made a bigger mess by dumping out the bins. (One by one, of course, I'm not crazy!) And I methodically made my way through the mess. Legos here, lightbrite pegs there, K'nex here, Erector there, Mr. Potato Head .... you get the picture. I had to force myself into evaluating the papers and I got rid of most of them, keeping only the most memorable for myself or the respective boy who created it. (That one was a tough one. There is a major guilt trip put on moms to save every piece of "art" created. I don't know who is responsible for the guilt but it's there! Okay? Okay.)

Nona purchased several shoebox size plastic containers for us which worked wonderfully for organizing games, building sets, and more. Thank you, Nona! John built the shelf for us. The plan is to add another shelf soon but the one shelf is doing the job fabulously for now. Thank you to you too, John.

At the end of the day, that's Day FIVE, all was organized and cleaned for the grand reopening. I'm so glad it's done! It's so worth not having to cringe as I walk by the playroom and the boys are loving being able to easily find the toy they want.

Now the rest of the house has been/is being gradually Autumn Cleaned too but that's nothing compared to the playroom. *satisfied smile*

P.S. Did I mention I threw away multiple rocks? Yeah, I don't know who was sneaking those things in there.

My Thumb is Kind of Dirt Colored Right Now

I can't say I'm good at gardening. Well, I could.... but I'd be lying.

It seems like I should be a natural "green thumb" since I have generations of farmers in my family tree but, obviously, it's a learned skill instead of an inherited one.

Nevertheless each spring I attempt to make a pretty spot in front of my house. If I don't (and I haven't in times past) I look at those "flower beds" in dismay all summer.

Today was that day. The day of gathering the tools. The day of wishing I knew where my garden gloves are hiding. The day of being cheered on by Noah, "Yes! Let's do it! Let's do this!" The day Nathan looked forward to me working in the garden so he could play my new video game. The day of being motivated by Josiah who had already started doing his own unapproved digging. (He had good intentions and he loves dirt.) Today: we tackled the garden.

And you know what? I like the finished product. I may not be able to tell you all the names of the plants in there but I think I could pull off half of them.

This. This is my garden.

Oh, okay. This is OUR garden. Thanks, Gentlemen, for all your help and/or enthusiasm.

Where's the sarcasm emoticon?

Do you know what I love?

I just love when I am able to grab a quick shower in the morning. I really do.

And I love when I can find some warm clothes in a hurry. Nice.

I also love when I can pack Josiah's lunch in 45 seconds flat. Mwahahaha.

Finding a hat to cover my still soaked hair in order that my hair not turn into a helmet of icicles and make me a Medusa look-alike makes me very happy too. (Of course, the hat keeping me warm is lovely too.) Yep, I love that.

Love love love when the other boys don't throw a fit about not being able to go to the corner with us to catch the school bus.

I LOVE when we don't miss the bus.

But do you know what I love the most?

I just love it when I get back inside my house after having put Josiah on the bus and having waved at the bus driver, look in the mirror, AND see that I look like Alice Cooper with my leftover eye makeup having run in the shower. I. Love. That.

Excuse me while I clean up my keyboard. My sarcasm seems to have dripped all over it.

Blogger's Block

You may have noticed that I haven't had much to share lately. No, that's incorrect. I just haven't shared much. I'm hogging my kids and their cuteness. Not intentionally, no. I think I have blogger's block. (You know, like writer's block?)

Today I was reading a friend's blog and she had two, no three good reports and I LOVE good reports. (especially when they are a long time coming). I left this comment:

I love hearing good reports! We should set up a service that searches out, confirms, then passes along good reports. Kind of like the News... but the opposite since they mainly deal in BAD reports and broadcast to millions (they hope) at once and my service would be more personal. A phone call. A note. A special delivery.

Then I thought to myself... maybe I should stop slacking off and start blogging again. I love sharing the joys in life, the blessings in the midst of difficulties, the humor of having kids, and, well, whatever comes to mind.

In keeping with the good reports...
Last night, my cat used his scratching pad instead of my carpet. (gasp) Miracles happen all the time. Okay, so that isn't a miracle but it is good and miracles DO happen.

Mostly Well Most of the Time

People have asked me how I'm doing and I know by their eyes that they are referring to my miscarriage. Most of the time, I am well.

Sometimes sadness sneaks up on me. At school lunch duty last week, being in the midst of all the children, I started thinking of all the different personalities and wondered what my child may have been like. I was feeling blue the rest of that day.

You may think that being around babies or pregnant women might cause that reaction but they don't to me. Rejoicing in the blessings of others brings healing.

Sometimes it is the casual comments of an acquaintance that jolt me. For example, I missed a week of work and one of my co-workers was wondering about the accuracy of the schedule since one person had not been there the week before. I told her that that had been me and that I would be here now needlessly explaining I had missed the previous week because I had had to go to the hospital. In response, she compassionately said, "Oh no, I hope everything was okay." I could not say that it was. "No. It's not okay. I had a miscarriage." To this she responds, "O my God, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say." (Sometimes that is the best thing to say.) I tell her not to feel bad but now I'm sorry that she's worried and uncomfortable.

A friend whom I had not seen for a long time saw my boys and asked about them and their ages. "This is Nathan; he's four. This is Noah; he's two. And my oldest, Josiah, went in through another door." She commented on how big they are getting then pointing to Noah, she said, "He's your littlest? I guess you don't have a baby anymore!" That sinks in to my heart. "No. No, I don't" I don't tell her just how accurate that statement is. She was simply enjoying my children.

There have been other moments that grief has reared up but I am mostly well. Hope and joy remain.

"I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord; Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord!" ~Psalm 27:13-14

Wardrobe Malfunction

I was getting ready for church on Sunday morning and my slacks are a bit long (because, yes, I'm short) so I need a pair of shoes with some height to them.

My silver platforms! At least that's what I call them. I'm not good with the whole shoe name world. "These will work great", I think ... until I crouch down to put shoes on one of the little gentlemen and I hear a SNAP then SLAP. That's right. The sole to my shoe just broke off. But the heel is secure.

So do I find other shoes? I need height. I can't wear brown with my black and grey ensemble!
Time is running out... I must decide quickly and I do. I grab my tube of super glue and glue that sucker back together. Success!

We finish getting ready, gather everything, and head out the door. As I come down the steps, the sole comes completely off again. There's no turning back now. Oh, no. The boys are in the car. I grab my sole and drive us to church with super glue tucked inside the diaper bag.

The shoe is still walkable but I'm off kilter and not able to glide so I assess the situation again. To glue or not to glue?

I look at my broken shoe; I look at my healthy shoe. Suddenly, it is clear to me what must be done.

I crouch again. Bounce a little. And I CRACK then pull apart my remaining good shoe. Yes I did. Now they're even.

This was the last walk for the silver shoes.

Good-bye, Shoes. You were fun and did your task well... even in your structurally compromised state. May you rest in peace.

P.S. I'm very thankful that I did not fall on my face even IF it would have made a better story. And what's up with the pictures posting sideways? I certainly don't know.

Spiteful Sofa

Dear Couch,

I hate you. Let me be clear. You are supposed to be "a piece of furniture on which several may sit or one may recline; also, a bed, or any place of repose". Apparently you haven't read the dictionary OR you are so hateful yourself that you certainly let me "recline" but did not allow me to sleep comfortably. All I required of you was a place of rest so I could avoid the germ-coughing husband. Instead, I was mostly sleepless and my back and hip hurt. I concur that if I plastered my back against your back, things were greatly improved but I have a need to move sometimes. So was that some kind of power trip to keep me close? That's no way to cuddle.

Feeling spiteful and a little sore too,
Sarah

P.S. I did go to Bed and it was delightful!

P.P.S. Josiah spells your name "calch". So there. I hope your offended... until I need to sit on you again. This letter is all about the sleeping aspect. I know, I know. You make a fine seat especially with the help of pillows.

Questionable Phone Manners

We were having a family discussion about April Fools Day. Okay, I was telling my kids about April Fools and I was laughing about one particular joke I and my friends pulled off but when the joke was revealed the jokees didn't think it was funny. In fact, they were downright mad about it. But we still thought it funny and we laughed and laughed. You remember the one, Heidi?

At one point I told Josiah,who didn't even fall for the "your shoelaces are untied" joke (Smart Alec.), that our good friend loves to fool people on every April 1st and will come up with elaborate schemes to pull them off involving multiple people. Then Josiah started asking me all about the schemes and the hows and the whys and the whos and the *sigh*. Let's just say he has a lot of questions. After trying to answer some of the questions, I came up with a brilliant idea.

"Do you want to call Becky and ask her if Randy fooled anyone today?"

Josiah must have thought this is a good idea too because he agreed to it so I dialed my cell phone for him and handed it to him. *whew* Mission accomplished.

His phone conversation goes like this: wawawa (That's Becky. Imagine the Charlie Brown cartoon's adult voices, please.) "Did Randy joke anyone today?" wawawa? "Did Randy joke anybody today?" wawa. wawawawa. Then Josiah pushes END.

I am incredulous. "Did you just hang up on Becky?!" Yes, he did because obviously I have failed at teaching my children phone manners. *hangs head in shame* So I did the only thing I could. I called Becky back and talked to her for a few minutes ... until we drove through a "dead zone" and my phone hung up on her AGAIN.

So I called her again. And this time I said both "Hello" and "Goodbye"!

I'm so sorry for pestering you, Becky. It may happen again.

I Love Post It Notes

Do you have any random thoughts today? You can play along on your blog by clicking on Supah's Post It Note below OR leave a comment here OR, even better, play along AND leave a comment!

Awkward Moments Day

As I drove home from work this morning, I heard on the radio that it is Awkward Moments Day. Finally! This is definitely my kind of holiday! Now..... What is the best way to celebrate this day? Do I reminisce about my awkwardness? Do I purposefully go out and put myself in new awkward positions? That could be fun ... AND more awkward for the other person. Then I could laugh and say "Happy Awkward Moments Day!" and, of course, they would be relieved that they were supposed to feel awkward and they would then "pay it forward" as any good deed should be. Or else, they may get really mad and hit me. In that case, I would feel awkward calling the police. I wonder if the police have any funny awkward stories to share...

All this rambling is somewhat awkward. Somewhat awkward is probably not good enough for Awkward Moments Day though.

I will confess an awkwardness: A lot of the time I will over analyze what I say in person to someone I don't know well. I rule out conversation starters as "too much information", "not interesting", "don't want to go there" and instead of conversing since my brain has locked up, I just stand there trying to come up with something anything to say. That's awkward. Why can't I just blurt out my weirdness and deal with that awkwardness instead?

Can you think of your most awkward moment? Or a recurring awkward moment? OR if you make someone else feel awkward today, please tell. Thank you and Happy Awkward Moments Day!

Don't Stop Now!

Some days you just have to wake up and get a head start on the day.

That's today for me. I'm hoping to get a lot accomplished so that I can "cling to the clean" again. Alas, my previous clean abandoned me.

I don't get a head start the same way that Noah has been -throwing everything out of his crib except himself while waiting to get out of bed- but I have managed to attack the dirt and clutter this morning. The biggest task is yet before me: the boys' bedroom. If you don't hear from me by tomorrow... please send help.

The Places I Went

I was told to take a lot of pictures on my trip to the Dominican Republic. So I did.

This "restroom" was not restful. It was in a separate building behind the church and there were no lights. Picture this with just the beam of a small flashlight. Three of us ventured out back to use this toilet. We made plenty of noise as we approached and Cheryl threw rocks at the building. Why? Because we didn't want "company" in there in the dark. Rats and spiders, PLEASE let the girls have a turn. The rocks and noises did their job. *whew* When someone asked if I had actually used these "facilities" I responded, "Hey, I was just glad that I would have a door!"

The next outhouse I came across was brand new. It was built at a construction site (which I have yet to tell about). Isn't it cute? Then they said we had time to use the outhouse if needed.

So, of course, I quickly took advantage of the offer AND took a picture. The door latch was a little tricky.

Here's the bathroom I used everyday. The showers were cold but surprisingly refreshing to me. The lantern was for when the power was out. (The power goes out nearly every day for hours and usually comes on again in the evening/night.) That toilet had me practicing me my patience; you had to hold that handle until it was completely done flushing in slow motion. The water bottles were for brushing teeth. You don't want to put even a minuscule amount of tap water in your mouth.

Ah! Another church bathroom. Better than the scary dark outhouse but it had its own setbacks. Notice there is no t.p. No problem. I came prepared. (The other girls called me Walmart. Not that I had packed a lot; I just packed what I remembered needing in a third world country.)

And there was no running water. This bowl was filled with bleach water for cleaning your hands. Yes, I used it. Then I used my hand sanitizer too. What? Wouldn't you?

Even the nicest bathrooms have their occasional challenges. The house was running out of water. Cheryl had ordered a water truck to fill the cistern but it hadn't arrived yet. I said, "We could just carry some water up from the other house so that we can flush the toilets here." She agreed but didn't let me do it. She had the guys on the team carry buckets. Buckets and buckets. *ahem* Sorry, guys. My fault.

I will admit that I didn't go here. Holly did. And I asked her to take a picture. That's right. I knew that Josiah would want to see a picture of the airplane's bathroom. But I totally could have gone here; I was just, well, I didn't want to get up and squeeze past the nice man sitting next to me.

So there you have it. I did miss a few places. Thank me.

My dad laughed at me for taking all these pictures. (So did Micah and Holly and Cheryl and everyone who knew) My response? "It's a lot more fun using a questionable/scary bathroom when you are collecting evidence for bragging rights!"

I hope you are sufficiently impressed. And please, please, tell me your worst bathroom experience. Okay, maybe I should clarify; please tell me about the worst bathroom you have used or the one that made you suddenly realize you didn't have to go so bad after all.

Republica Dominicana Project #2

Okay, so the Dominican trip wasn't all fun and games, cleaning water, and church services .... unless you call this part "The Painting Game". I like the sound of that!

Come to think of it... they DID hand me a machete and a shovel as well as paint, brushes, and rollers. And that ramp to the roof could be a slide of sorts with only a 50/50 chance of sliding right off and twisting or breaking something...

And leaning over the side of the roof to reach the top of the wall could be a balancing game of sorts. You just don't want to lose your balance because, well, you could end of losing a lot more. Loads of fun!

Notice that Holly spent some precious painting time dancing around when she thought no one was looking. Okay, maybe I made that part up; we knew that she knew that we knew that she was dancing. It was all part of "The Painting Game" I'm sure. Maybe she was practicing her brush stroke technique.

Hm? What was the shovel and machete for? The machete was to cut back the trees and other growth from the walls we were to paint. Then we lost it. So I "borrowed" some one's shovel that happened to be laying around and dug up the weeds that were growing on the roof. That's right. Weeds. On the roof. And I made the ants really mad too. You can see the pile of dirt, weeds, and ants behind the dancing Holly. No, you can't really see the ants; but you can see the dirt in which they live. It's the ant penthouse.

This is the wall beside the water filtration building. Beautiful, yes? No? Micah cleaned it up and painted it too.

Tah dah! Now there is a freshly painted, clean wall next to the freshly painted, clean water building.

This is one of the outside walls of the church/school and that is the path to the water filtration building. We cleaned the wall, swept the path, and then painted the wall. Since we had already played the "balancing over the side of the roof game" with this wall on the first painting day, we remained on the ground this time.

A little story on the side: There was a bird that kept whistling at me, so I whistled back and forth with it for quite some time. My competitiveness took over. I had to outlast the bird! My whistler was getting so tired... and then the bird... I think he started mocking me. He did learn a new whistle from me though; if he ever migrates to my house, he can call my dog.

After we ran out of white paint and the wall/path was sufficiently finished, I helped Holly do the finish work on the water filtration building. Those poor brushes! Brush work just isn't the same when you're working with bricks. I felt a little bit sorry for them.

What? Yes, those are the same jeans I wore the first painting day. No, that's a completely different shirt. Did I wash those jeans? Um, no. Were they disgusting then? Wow. You're really asking some personal questions. Um, yes they were disgusting but not SO disgusting. I sprayed them with Febreze the night before and once again that morning for good measure. So although they were disgusting, they smelled fresh. Now while you're at it, why don't you give me a paper cut and pour some lemon juice on it? Did I bring those jeans home? NO! They told me that they wanted to stay and be a missionaries in the D.R. so I let them.

I consider "The Painting Game" to be won. Yes, it was a team game. Us against the walls. We won.

Anyone There?

*tap tap tap* Hello? Is this thing on?

Testing. One. Two. Three....

Hi. I'm back from the Dominican! There are many, many stories and an abundance of pictures I have to share with you. In fact, there are so many that I think I will piecemeal them out to you. After all, it wouldn't be fair to overwhelm you with all 388 pictures in one sitting...

The trip was a great success. I loved the Dominican people and the country is so beautiful! Learning Spanish is now on my to do list so that I can communicate better the next time.

There. That's one of the views I enjoyed on Friday. I'll tell you the story about that place soon. Right now, I've got some boys here that have missed their mommy and I'm to enjoy their stories and hugs for now.

No, I Did Not Learn Spanish Yet

There is only one short night of sleep before I begin my journey to the Dominican Republic. Really short. Super short. They are picking me up at 6:15 in the morning. I don't usually see that time of the day. Por que? (See? I threw in a little Spanish already!) Why would I wake up so early in the morning? Why leave behind all my gentlemen? Why go to the Dominican? Why, oh why, go to a place where you may see creatures like that!? Inside the HOUSE!?

Well, I'll tell you.

*cue the music* tu-du tu-du tu-du

No! No! Not like that!

Fine. I won't sing it.
(My apologies to everyone who has not seen Monty Python's Search for the Holy Grail. I'm truly sorry you have not seen the funniness and the line memorization possibilties that movie has to offer.)

We going there to serve and encourage Leo, Cheryl, and Zamar. They are missionaries in the town of Baitoa; their ministry includes three churches and a school. We plan to do whatever needs done including painting, building, speaking to the school children, putting on a conference... I may even be able to help Cheryl with her blog.

We will also help install a safe-water system. There are three big manuals of instructions. With this in place, the people will be able to get safe, clean drinking water. (It's a good thing there are women on the team so that the instructions are read. What? What did I say?)

One or two days will be spent in a particular valley where a particular former Franciscan monk lives and works. His name is Pastor Reuben; he loves Jesus and loves people. There is such poverty in this valley that after visiting there, my dad told me that it is the worst poverty he has ever seen -- and my dad has seen poverty in Haiti and in India. So far I haven't been able to imagine worse poverty. We are delivering to Pastor Reuben the Cash for Cluckers money that was raised. This Kids Church class collected offerings each week since October in order that Pastor Reuben may buy chickens for the people of the valley. Chickens for both meat and eggs. Have you ever thought you couldn't do much because the need was too great and there were so few to help? It's amazing what can be done when you step out and start. These children raised $1,258.20. That's worth about 175 chickens! (give or take a few cluckers)

So. Those are the reasons that I am leaving on a jet plane. (I do know when I'll be back again.) My bags are packed. After checking off all the items on my "Don't forget this stuff" list, we did the weigh-in. Just under 40 pounds! Woohoo! I still had ten pounds to spare.

That means I get to wear my lightweight coat to the airport instead of furreezing. You see, it's light enough to pack into the bag so Little Brown Coat can take a joy ride to the Dominican and back.

I'll take a lot of pictures! (including pictures of the plane as requested by Josiah)

It's Almost Time!

And the Winner Is.... Mom

I'm sure that EVERYBODY is talking about the Miss America Pageant. Well. Most people... half of everybody? Okay. One out of ten. *ahem* Well, I am.

After not seeing the pageant for years, I said to myself, "Sarah, you're going to have to watch that pageant this year." After finding out what day the pageant aired, I waited until Saturday to do my show prep.

I did a search on the Internet and came to this page which showed me each contestant's picture, name, and state. Of course, I pulled out my index card and listed all the states' two-letter abbreviations and the first name of the contestant. Step 1 complete. Then I pulled up the post office web site and made sure that I wrote down all the abbreviations correctly. YES! I still have it.

Next, I scrolled through each contestant choosing my preliminary favorites based on their photos. I picked 12, then erased one. (Sorry #12.) Seriously, Rhode Island, this is supposed to be a contest to be a public relations person, not some sultry magazine model. Couldn't you find a "girl next door" picture like everyone else?

Then I had John look through everybody and choose his favorites because that's what I do.

He only chose six and five of those were ones I had chosen. His only chance of pulling out a singular win was dependant upon Miss Vermont's success.


As John was giving his quick yes or no, Noah started mimicking him and doing his own, "No, no, no, no, no...." Wow. He's tough.

Then Josiah joined in the scrutiny! His first remark? "Her face is too square." Really? Then, "Round, oval, oval, oval, round..." Then there was much laughter.

WHAT HAVE I DONE?


Since the pageant was on TLC, I went to my parents' house and watched the show with my mom. Yes, I sucked her into it too.

I was pulling for Miss Oregon during the pageant but she was eliminated before I left for work. That's right. I didn't get to see the end because of work.

No worries though.

We recorded it.

And I watched the whole thing again with my sister-in-law, Holly, on Sunday.

We watched the evening gowns (There was one gown I didn't like because it didn't allow for "gliding".) ... the swimsuits (Sorry, DC, but you were thrusting your rib cage out. This is not a show for starving children. Besides that, I haven't seen my ribs for some time.) ... the talents (One sang a Whitney Houston song. Lovely song. Lovely voice, but COME ON! You're putting yourself up against Whitney instead of the other contestants. Most anyone would have a hard time with a sing off against Whitney.) ... and finally, the Questions. (Please, ladies, focus on the actual question asked. You forgot where you started and I'm pretty sure that is why you two finished last.)

The big moment finally arrived!

Miss Virginia is the new Miss America!

I know the suspense was killing you.

"Isn't she lovely...."

Just so you know, she was on MY list (and not John's).

Wait! Wait! The best was yet to come.

On the way home from Grandma and Grandpa's house last night, Josiah asked me, "Did you ever win won of those contests, Mom?"

Me: No, I didn't.

Josiah: Why not?

Me: Well, I never entered one of those...

Josiah: You could wear your wedding dress.

Me: I suppose I could...

He thinks I would win! (Josiah, now would be a good time to ask for whatever it is you've been wanting.)

P.S. I was going to name this post "And the Winner is ... ME" but then I thought that you would think,"Is she out of her mind? Miss Maine did NOT win the pageant; she didn't even make the first cut! Obviously this person has no idea what she is writing about." (because I have faith in you to know the 2-letter abreviation for states too and that those abreviations are foremost on your mind at all times) and then you wouldn't read that it was indeed me that won because I picked the winner and John didn't and Josiah (God bless him!) implied that I too could have won.

Moving Shmoving

I have moved 13 times in my life. Each move was a good move too. And by good, I don't mean that the moves were always easy but that each move added something positive to my life.

My most recent move was when I married John. THAT has definitely added a lot to my life. Husband, new family, babies, pets, neighbors.... Some day I'll tell you stories about my neighbors.

Today I am thinking of other people moving. It is possible that I have a harder time with friends moving than me being the one who moves. I think it's because of nostalgia. The memories of important moments in my life spent at that person's house replay in my mind and I think, "I'll never be able to visit this place again."

"This is the yard I played Kick the Can and my friend got clotheslined running in the dark."

"There is where the mistletoe hung where I kissed my first love."

"That is the wiggly doorknob that nearly scared my friend to death after we watched Nightmare on Elm Street."

"The 'fort' at my grandparents' house is where we had countless hours of fun and make-believe."

Now I realize that I take on the worry of moving for others too. My client, Miss Hepburn, is moving soon and I wonder what she will be able to take with her. Will she be able to keep her dog? She loves that dog. Will she have a hard time leaving the house that her son built for her and her husband? She has done such a nice job at decorating it. This time it is not my cherished memories that I'm concerned about.... but hers.

Miss Hepburn won't need my services anymore and even though someone else will... I'll miss her because she has become my friend. May your move be a positive one.

An Open Letter to Huggies Pull-Ups

To whom it may concern:

We use your product and love the construction of it; after all, Pull-Ups is "The only brand with easy open sides." The purpose of these? "There for moms, just in case!" Right. As if accidents are the exception... I like this feature just in case my child rips off his Pull-Up and it is still clean; I can then reattach the sides and save myself from wasting 25 cents. Besides, it looks more comfortable. I mean, if you're going to sleep with your own urine right next to your skin, you may as well be comfortable.

The other features you offer such as Learning Designs and Cool Alert show an effort to improve the potty training experience but they fall flat. The Designs are not visible unless you first take off the child's pants (This part is no problem for the child.) and then said child bends over and tugs the Pull-Up into a position where he can see if the Learning Designs are still there. It's just simpler to feel or smell whether the Pull-Up has been filled. And Cool Alert? Really? Can it be cool inside a Pull-Up next to the skin of the child who has just peed? I kind of doubt it. My child has never commented on feeling the chill but neither have I tested this myself nor will I. I'm putting the Cool Alert in the irrelevant idea section.

My main concern is the characters you put on your Pull-Ups. Yes, they are very cute. However, you have a practice of selling two characters in the same package. Yes, they are related: Princesses and Cinderella, Lightning McQueen and Mater. Here lies the problem. Kids don't need this choice! My son roots through the package searching for Mater because "Queen wakes me up". Mater is his Pull-Up of choice since you, in your creativity, have pushed choosing a pattern upon young children. Perhaps if you would teach Lightning McQueen to let sleeping boys sleep, this problem could be averted. I propose you create an all Mater package; this way the choice can be made in the store instead of ALL OVER THE BATHROOM FLOOR. *ahem*

On another note, I see on your website that you have a potty dance video. That's great! Children love music and dancing. *watches video now* Uh... Never mind. We don't have time to be dancing on the way to the potty!

Anyway... thanks for those Easy Open sides. They ARE your saving grace.

Sincerely,
A mom with way too many Lightning McQueen Pull-Ups who is contemplating altering McQueen with a big black permanent marker to look like the funny, buck-toothed Mater.