A Peeping Tom is Watching My Cheese Move

I have two serious issues to blog about.

One is

cheese moving,

as in Blogger has moved my cheese so many times,

I'm no longer interested in the maze.

I've moved to WORDPRESS, as in

 MommaMindy.WordPress.com

Please follow the cheese crumbles over,

my followers mean so much to me,

and I'd love to have you continue to be a part of my life.

My second serious issue is that I have

a peeping Tom.

Portions of my life, blogged and unblogged,

are being made public for the whole world to see.

My most recent blog is at Wordpress,

sing the title to the tune of

"Where is My Hairbrush?"

if you can without annoying yourself.

C'mon, click on the words

"recent blog" above to find me.

I didn't go far...

I Don't Have Time for This!

It was supposed to be an easy task.

I was going to reach into my spice drawer,

pull out some seasoning,

sprinkle it generously into the delicious,

homemade chicken soup simmering on the stove,

put my spices away,

stir my soup,

and life would be perfect.

Well, nearly, practically perfect.

A spice storm  had sanded the contents of the drawer,

 various colors dandruffing the spice jars,

some light orange,

some white,

some black,

some brown.

I  removed the jars and began vacuuming.

It didn't help that I found the sugar shaker

UPSIDE DOWN.

Yea, I know,

YOUR

kids would

NEVER

do something like that.

It didn't help that I found the sugar&cinnamon shaker

UPSIDE DOWN.

Yea, I know,

YOUR

kids would

NEVER

do something like that.

The deeper I dove into the drawer, the bigger the mess I found.

Using my hand vac is a challenge,

because the little rubber flapper that keeps the garbage in

ripped off years ago, and the minute you shut it off,

you have to hold it upright,

so you don't re-dirty the place you just cleaned.

Yea, I wrote in Sharpie

PLEASE PLUG ME IN!

on my hand vac.

After years of always finding it

under a bed,

in a closet,

in a car,

in the garage,

behind a couch,

or under a table,

always UNCHARGED

I had to take some serious action.

Yea, I know

YOUR

kids would

NEVER

do something like that.

After vacuuming I wiped down the drawer and the jars.

In the midst of a simple task gone awry,

I found myself grumbling in my heart,

"I don't have time for this.

I don't have time to keep wiping up messes my kids make."

Instantly, I was rebuked.

As a Christian who daily makes little messes in her life,

I'm thankful the Lord never says to me,

"I don't have time to wipe up your messes!"

I finished the job,

reminding myself to be

thankful I have kids,

thankful I have the strength to wipe up their messes,

and thankful I have a Heavenly Father

who leads by example.

As I blog about this wonderful life lesson I figured out,

I also figured out why my soup was SO blah.

You guessed it,

I forgot to season it.

Yea, I know

YOU

would

NEVER

do something like that.

Meet My Following Family

I'm always honored when someone lists my blog on their sidebar.

I'm equally thrilled when someone becomes a follower.

I know time is valuable, and I'm truly humbled people spend
their precious commodity reading my blog.

But, it's more than gaining readers - I have gained faithful and spiritual friends.

Many of you have prayed me through two bouts of thyroid cancer.
(I wasn't blogging during the first round)

You have laughed with me over my children, because if I don't laugh,
sometimes I just might hurt them.  Seriously.  Just kidding.  Seriously.

Most of you also blog.

You have given me recipes,

craft ideas,

encouragement,

prayers and hope.

You readers and fellow bloggers have made my life so full.

I have wept with those that have lost children,
have suffered cancer,
have lost hope in their trials.


I have rejoiced over your new babies,
and adored the cute things your kids say and do,
admired your handiwork
and rejoiced as you triumphed over trials.

I have been blessed to have been visited by

friends in places I would love to visit

Australia,

New Zealand,

Canada,

Ireland,

India,

and the United Kingdom.

Today, I want to share the love.

If you are a follower of my blog,

fill in your spot on The Followers Family Tree by

leaving a comment below introducing yourself and your blog(s).

Then, take the time over the next few days,

to visit other bloggers and introduce yourself.

Just tell them Momma Mindy sent ya'.

This will be one  family reunion we all enjoy.

*****
When you're done leaving a comment,
follow this link over to Nan's

mAkInG fUn oF mOm

My dear husband declared that blogging really wasn't fair. He didn't think I should be able to make fun of everybody else in the family and nobody could pick on me. I welcomed him to become a guest blogger, but he said he has back surgery every day for the next year. Or, maybe, he wanted to learn to paint stripes on the highway, or expand his string collection. Either way, he didn't take me up on my offer.

I decided to do it for him. That's what good wives do, they do all the things the husbands should do and could do and would do if you let them wait a year or ten. As a good helpmate, I will help him and make fun of myself.

Sad to say, these things are true, unexaggerated, and a fair show of the abuse I take around here. I blog in kind retaliation.

4-09 I had treated myself to a rare experiment in pampering, a haircut by a stylist friend with a shop in her backyard. She washed, cut and fixed my hair, curling each long strand in a gorgeous do'. I was ready to stun my family with my grand entrance. Instead, I was stunned.

Grace, Aamzing Grace, greeted me with wide-eyed enthusiasm. "Wow, Mom! Your hair looks just like DNA!"

"DNA?" my husband asked, thinking he missed some new rad teenage term. "What's that?"

" A DNA strand, ya, know, like in Biology."

5-5-09 I was snuggling with Beka in her bed, enjoying her comments on how much she loved me and how she thought I was so pretty. Suddenly she shuddered, jerked back a little, and said, "Ooh, sometimes when I get too close to you, you look scary. But, then when I get far away again, you look normal again."


8-09 While on vacation in Montana, I relaxed. I really relaxed. I didn't wear make-up and I didn't fix my hair. I spent a lot of time on the dock sunbathing and reading. The day we were going into town I decided to fix my hair and put on make-up. However, because of the dryness of the air and the slow speed of my mom's hair dryer, I was having a hard time getting my hair styled the way I wanted it.

My Dad greeted me with enthusiasm I mistook for admiration. "I'm glad you fixed your hair today," he began. I waited in anticipation for my daddy's adoring compliment to make all things feel better. "It reminds me that I need to buy a new mop."

9-09 Scott, "You should have been born a cat. You are SO finicky."

9-16-09 I was expressing frustration to my husband that one of my kids had messed with my camera. This was the same day that one of my kids left the van key, the only key we have to the minivan, in her friends car, a few towns north of us. Another one of my kids left the weedwacker and a bicycle outside after they were told to put them away. This same kid didn't take out the roast to thaw, so we had no meat ready for dinner. My world is always being messed with or kept from rotating perfectly.

My husband, as always, had the perfect solution. "I think you need to be on a planet where it's only YOU."

Get me on the next flight!

Anything You Say and Do, Can Be Blogged Against You

I have another new form of punishment and torture for my children – the internet. Now that they know that I know how to blog, and do, they are under constant scrutiny to provide the next fodder for my cyber-soliloquy. I even carry a small notebook in my purse, and doodle random actions and exclamations, and keep a running Word document on my youngest child.

For years I have attempted to journal the comical things they say and do on my daily calendar, or in small notebooks for each child. But, who can keep two decades of calendars? The notebooks were read and re-read so many times the pages fell out. So, now I have the means of chronicling their lives and not only broadcasting it to a much wider audience, I can have it preserved forever

– as long as my hard-drive doesn’t crash (again)
-as long as I remember to backup my computer
-as long as someone doesn’t spill milk on my computer (again)
-as long as I remember yet another password

Now, when I hear bickering, I pull out my notebook, not always so discretely, and begin writing. If I don’t have a notebook, I grab a napkin or a scrap piece of paper. When they notice the writing, they sometimes begin to elevate their diction to a level of acceptability.

Sometimes, I may just casually ask, “What did you just say? I’m not sure I got that right?” with hands posed industriously with pen or keyboard, and they give me THE LOOK. We all know THE LOOK. All kids use THE LOOK on their parents. It is when their eyebrows and lips morph into the expression that quietly shouts both “What are you thinking?” and “Are you really my parent?”

Then I give them the PARENT LOOK back. We all know the PARENT LOOK. All children have seen the PARENT LOOK after they have dared question the superior wisdom and authority of their parental unit. It is the look when the eyebrows raise and the lips barely smirk, and we are quietly and victoriously shouting back,
“Yes, I AM thinking” and
“Yes, I AM your parent” but it adds,
“And if you don’t behave better, I am going to wear leopard stretch pants or a sweater with beads, mirrors and sequins sewed all over it the next time I take you out in public…and THEN I am going to blog you. Because, remember,

Anything you say and do,
can be blogged against you.