broody babies.

Our chicks arrived today!! They are so cute! This morning we received a call from the Post Office to come and pick them up. Off we trotted into our little town's mini Post Office; Marnie accompanied me inside. As soon as we stepped in the door we could hear the sweetest little chirps. Marnie was so excited as she told the lady at the desk what we were there for. We got them home and into their little mock breeder (which we made out of the kid's plastic pool). They adjusted easily and nicely. You would never know that they had spent the last 48 hours being bounced around the back of various mail trucks. I was a bit worried that they would not arrive all healthy, but I was wrong. I could not convince Marnie of this fact though. She sat on the table with the chicks for a good part of the afternoon - exclaiming that a chick has died every time one would close it's eyes to sleep. She is kind of obsessed with it actually. It's a little freaky.





Besides the obvious that we live on a farm that is mostly vacant (with the exception of the goats.) and it needs some life, I mostly got the chickens for eggs. I ordered the brown egg laying variety package. Yes, there is such a thing. The company that I purchased them from guarantees at least five varieties plus they throw in one free rare chick to boot. The kicker however is that they do not tell you what kind of chickens they sent you. They keep no record of it either. So now it is a waiting game. I have tried to compare them with pictures of the breeds, but it isn't really working. I have no idea. 26 chickens. There are two that I could identify because they are from some freak breed. Turkens are what they are named and they scare the bejesus out of me. There are no feathers on their necks at all and as adults they resemble those crazy creatures from 'Dark Crystal'. I hate anything that is hairless - like those icky hairless cats. Ew. There is a white one and a black one and they totally give me the heebie jeebies. It's too bad really. The rare chick is completely cute. I have no idea what it is either. I don't think that there is any assurance that it will be female like the rest of my gals, so I am sure it will be a rooster.

shmud.

The first day of the Master Cleanse was a little more unpleasant than I had imagined. And what I had imagined was pretty horrific to begin with. The day began with 32 ounces of water and two teaspoons of sea salt. It was like forcing yourself to eat ocean. I was pretty sure that I was going to be unable to keep it down. After the nausea passed, it was pretty smooth sailing for the next few hours. I made the lemon tincture and was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't absolutely terrifying although pretty damn spicy due to the cayenne pepper. I have a pretty high tolerance for hot too, but this drink kicked my ass. Although to be quite honest, my measurements could be quite off the mark for what the recipe actually calls for. Each drink calls for 1/10 teaspoon of cayenne pepper. What the hell is that? Who has that small of a measuring spoon? I just kind of threw some in there and hoped for the best. Next time I will have to ask Marnie if I can borrow Barbie's kitchen set. The kids and I had a park play-date with our Mother's & More group and I brought my 'juice' along. I really felt no hunger, but somewhere between running after Ethan so he didn't get run down by the black impala and running after Ethan so he wouldn't fling himself from the top of the twister slide, I was hit by a monster migraine. I haven't felt that kind of pain since pregnant with Marnie. Back in those days I was plagued with the brain splitting terrors almost every day. At least then I could take Tylenol - which obviously did no actual good as it is a pointless excuse for a pain killer, but did at least provide the benefit of acting like a placebo to my easily persuaded mind. While on this fast, you are to take no medicine nor vitamin of any kind, so basically I was screwed. I made through the park excursion, gritting my teeth and wanting to rip the eyeballs from my sockets. Finally it ended and I fled home. Once there, Troy smugly informed me that it must be the lack of caffeine. For weeks prior to starting this fast, I have been attempting (pleading really) to get Troy to join me. He actually wanted - if he could be allowed to drink his pot of coffee a day. To me that was against the point of the entire detox. I too drink coffee and diet coke and I was not going to let that stop me. What a freaking baby. Cold turkey is the way to go in by book, so that's the way I went. And it went not well obviously. I was splayed out, face down, on the couch for the remainder of the afternoon in too much pain to cry. Finally I had to pull myself together in order to accompany Marnie to her Preschool orientation. I cannot even tell you much of went on there. I know that there was something with paste and Marnie throwing a fit because it required her to dirty her fingers, but I was pretty much blacked out at that point from excruciating pain. Good thing I was randomly pointing my camera places and clicking the button. I managed to capture snippets of what was a banner day in the world of Marnie. At some point in the evening Troy mentioned that he indeed would like to do the cleanse with me if I would only allow him a couple of days to gradually wean himself from the coffee. Did this mean that I could take drugs to rid myself of the internal hell fire that was set ablaze inside my skull? Yes. There was a pause, oh so brief, where I debated whether I should agree to this plan, for it meant that I also agreed with the fact that I am caffeine's bitch and even worse, that Troy was right. Within a mere fraction of a second, Marnie was ripped from her pint size student chair and I was running with her down the wooded path to our car. Her cries didn't even deter me. It was only orientation after all. Within an hour of returning home and taking some Motrin (an actual drug that works) I began to feel human again. And like a bad mom, but I promised that tomorrow she could don her pouffiest dress in which would provide her with hours of twirling joy. All was forgiven.

Today was smoother. Although not on the fast, I am continuing to not consume an ounce of caffeine in preparation for the restart which has been scheduled for this coming Monday. No headaches either which is rather promising Troy is doing better than expected. He has only consumed one and a half cups of coffee (so he says) today and is not nearly as angry as I assumed he would be. I had suspected that these four days of withdraw for him would be much like the period of time in the morning between waking and that first sip of muddy bliss. No one wants to be near the man at that time. Just ask Marnie, her lip will quiver as her eyes dart looking for the nearest corner in which to hide. We'll see how he does once he's off the bean completely.

as always, amazed.

Last week was a little rough in the world of Erin. After a fun family affair in Kalamazoo, I discovered that my most adored 'Return to Tiffany' heart lock pendant was missing from my neck. Troy gave this little slice-o-bliss to me a few months ago and I have never once removed it. I knew that I would have to soon, for the once sparkling silver had become dark with tarnish, but not yet. As much as I love this necklace and the sentiment behind it, there was one drawback - the 'lock' feature was somewhat real. The handle could be pulled up and out allowing the pendant to be released from it's chain. A pretty cool feature in general, but maybe not so handy with toddler fingers constantly prying at every article on my being. I can only imagine that this is what took place that weekend. It had happened before, a couple of times in fact, where I had been holding my little man and YANK! Off went my little silver heart into his sticky little paw. I tried to teach him not to touch it, but as any Mom knows who owns anything shiny and valuable - it's pretty much pointless. I have always felt the tug before though. I mean you really need to put a bit of grunt into the pull in order for the heart to open. This time however I felt nothing. In fact I have no idea exactly when I even lost it. After the 90 minute drive home and an additional many hours, I finally noticed the absence of weight around my neck. It could have been anywhere.

After my usual panic freak out - which I am prone to, I emailed the aunt who's house we had stayed and explained what had happened. No luck. No one could find it after much searching. We had been many places. It was gone. I felt very upset with myself.

Five days later I dropped my iphone and the glass shattered into an unusable hundred or so pieces. After calling Apple and dealing with an extremely unsympathetic rep, I felt really pissed off to be frank. I have been loyal to Apple for many, many years. My love affair started with a small SE when I was seven years old. Computers were just entering the school systems for the first time and people were beginning to save for one for home. My Dad, a gadget lover and enthusiast, brought home our first Mac. I'm not sure why he he was swayed by the little desktop computer, but once it sat upon his desk, I became a Mac girl for life. As with many girls I am sure, my Dad was the TOPS. He knew everything about everything and if he said Macs were the best then I'll be damned if you are going to sway me otherwise. Every week of my childhood I would go to school with smug satisfaction and outrageous excitement over the fact that THIS week my Dad was going to win the lotto and next week I would be getting my teachings in Jamaica. I debated my classmates and earnestly put up my $2 weekly allowance on a bet that Ross Perot would be our next President of these United States. Of course he would. Although these days I do seek out my very own un persuaded opinion on most things, my love of the Mac has never faltered. My Dad and I will spend entire weekend visits tapping away at our own respective MacBooks, talking of this and that in which we have learned or stumbled across. If it is of Apple, we probably own it or at the very least covet it greatly. As was with the iphone. We oohed and ahhed over every little short that was made available on Apple's website. We spoke over it's grandness over the phone. It must be ours. And it was. Dad got hold of one the day it was released - I had mine a couple of weeks later. The first day was lovely - learning all of the quirky new features. Sadly, my affection was short lived. There are many things lacking that 'could have been' in the iphone, but of course it really is a revolutionary phone and I don't feel right going on and on about what it is lacking. My first problem was actually encountered by what it does have - a really deep and thin headphone jack. One of the reasons that I was so excited about the phone was that now my cell and ipod would be one. I would be able able to plug my phone into my car through the aux and listen as I had with my ipod. Wrong. Any normal auxiliary cable will not fit and as there is no Apple store in the middle of nowhere where I happen to live for me to buy the adapter - I am without. I can order it online, but why do I have to?? The question is mute anyhow with the shattered face plate and/or the $250 repair price tag. After calling Apple, I also contacted Apple retail stores in both Grand Rapids and Chicago. Same answer, no. No. No. My Dad, after a short visit, took the phone back to Milwaukee with him and tried a face to face approach. Nope.

In walks Troy. After me telling him that there was absolutely no point whatsoever in calling Apple as there was no chance of persuading them to fix my phone for free, he did so anyway. I am not sure where this confidence or abandonment of fear of others comes from, but I wish I had it. Even a little bit of it. Deal done. 20 minutes of this and that Apple is sending me a brand new phone. What? Okay.... I am absolutely not going to complain. An hour later, the phone rings and it is my Aunt Jean - my cousin, who did not even know that my pendant was missing, found the heart and had wondered if it were mine. Why? Because Troy had my initials engraved on the back. Wonders that boy is, pure wonders. It's a good thing to because I was having nightmares over having to speak badly about Apple. Pure blasphemy.

Keeping with the theme of my world of order being restored, tomorrow I am starting a fast. The Master Cleanse / Lemonade Diet / Detox whatchamacallit to be more exact. Fourteen days without any food is what I have to look forward to and I am sure it will be interesting, at least mildly. Updates to come if I have energy to put fingers to MacBook.

sadly, no.

As I have previously mentioned, I recently joined a Mom's group. Thus far, although my experience is limited, I have enjoyed the experience. I like that there are no judgments attached to whether you choose to work or stay home. If those two groups can coexist within a play-group setting than the club must at least be a little evolved and adequately open minded. I have no real feelings on the subject. I know I should - seeing as I am a stay-at-home-mom and all. I just cannot muster up an opinion. Opinions require reasoning, which I just do not have. If asked, I could probably name at least a dozen reasons as to why I choose to stay home with my kids. They would all be true mostly, but the real reason that I dedicate so much time and effort into the raising of my babes is that when five months pregnant with Marnie, I was fired from my job and no one else would take me. It just did not occur to me to to go forth and seek out a job once the baby was born. It is not principles you see, it is pure happenstance. I wonder if I would feel different about my position if I had made a conscious decision to leave my place of employment and put all of my time, intellect and resources into the care and safe keeping of the child I was to birth. Would I feel some great sense of purpose? Would I feel more accomplished at this moment and every other where my child is praised for their pure splendidness or would I feel deeper and more frequent pangs of guilt every time one of them acts like a big wad of snot that you just want to ditch? As it stands now, I don't feel that I am solely credited for either. I did not, as I mentioned, make this choice for myself. That thought also raises another in which I ponder where my falling into homemaker status ends and where my conscious choice to remain so begins. Obviously I could have returned to a job if I wished. I did not. I do not. If that was a stand I took, where are all of the convictions behind it?

flying crayon.

After sobbing profusely for what seemed like years, Marnie finally quieted. She had just been punished for drawing, for the second day in a row, on the white wall with a deep purple crayon. Today there was an encore performance which covered the little green desk, the entirety of the maple coffee table and my latest crewel project. I sat down beside her and asked why she did not learn her lesson after yesterday's wall art punishment? 'It wasn't me. The Purple crayon really wanted to fly up to the wall and I said NO! My Mommy will give me a spanking if you do that! But she wouldn't listen and just went crazy.' With that she looked down at her knees and slowly shook her head from side to side as if befuddled by the crayon who would not listen to her. How could her favorite color do her so wrong?

tornado.

Our town was hit by a tornado. Branches flew everywhere and apples from our tree were chucked at the house. The lake grew waves to heights of 3 feet - which are huge seeing as the 'lake' is merely a fishing hole that can easily be swam across. The kids and I spent the better half of an afternoon hiding out in our stanky basement. Our house made it through unscathed, but the storm put in motion a series of events that can only be described as, well, not cool.

The power went out. This happens a lot out here. This was probably the sixth time it has been out this year. No electricity is bad enough, but our water pump is also run on power which means we also had no water. AND did you know that you need water to flush a toilet? Four people in a house with no lights, water or bathroom facilities make for a non appealing time. At least it happened at night when the kids were already in bed. Too bad it was still out when they got up the next morning and had to pee.

Due to the storm, a bird flew into the garage. We tried to shoo him out but unfortunately we left the door to the house open and the bird decided that our kitchen would be more fun to escape to.



As Troy was chasing the bird around the inside of our house, I decided that it would be smart to charge my laptop and cell in my car so that we could at least listen to music, check our email and let the kids watch a movie. My phone slipped from my hand on the way as I ducked flying fowl and the face smashed into a hundred pieces. Did I mention that my cell is an iphone? I am still not recovered from the heated argument that followed with the Apple rep who nastily told me that they were not going to cover the damage by warranty and that it would cost me $250 to replace a six inch piece of glass.

Meanwhile, Troy was able to grab the bird and release it outside. I guess the bird wasn't happy with that and quickly flew back into the garage. As soon as I ceased pounding my fists and feet against the floor and wailing over my phone like the toddler I truly am, I went out to finish plugging in the laptop to the car. As I stepped out, WOOSH, the bird flew over my house and back into the house.



Still no power.

I dressed the kids and threw them into the car. Being anywhere other than home was my deepest desire. Troy went to work catching the bird. Again. And once again he released it, but not without another escape into the garage. Eff it. We went out for breakfast.



The day did get a little better from there. My Dad came for a visit and took my mind off of not being able to poop in peace. We dinked around town trying to take up hours. Eventually the electricity returned a full 24 hours after it went out.

Today is much nicer indeed. I tried out another brownie recipe for the bakery and am pretty sure that it's 'the one'. I still need to tweak a few minor details, but it was definitely delish. I am going to try another batch tonight and see what Troy thinks. While they baked, I organized my craft hutch and made a little fun hair bow holder for Marnie's room. I now have the table space to properly set up my new embroidery machine and learn the ropes. Maybe I will get to that tonight.





Maybe not though because I have started to learn yet another craft and I might be too engrossed with that. I am so easily swayed by new projects. I do not posses the power to say no....

Marnie was bit by the art bug today also. She took it out on my wall. Although less than enthusiastic with her choice of canvas, I do have to say this is some of her best work.

October come August.

We moved to our little Farming town last October and almost immediately I began researching Mom organizations in the area. I was determined to not be held captive within our home as I was in Kalamazoo. I adore staying at home with my kids, however with the lack of coworkers and such it can be a very lonely occupation. Add a side note of living in the middle of nowhere and two kids who can barely talk and you have an equation that leads to one crazy Mama. I needed friends who were in similar situations and as soon as we were semi settled, I went seeking. I found two right off the bat and contacted both. As it was October and all, each invited me to attend their respective Halloween parties with Marnie and Ethan. It sounded like fun, so I dressed up my little bumble bee and headed out. I'm not shy exactly, but I cannot tell you how much I hate going into situations with people I do not know. I am just bad at it. I am always super quiet and am racking my brain for things to say that won't sound amazingly stupid. Since not saying stupid things is next to impossible for me, I usually stand there and pretend to be really involved in whatever the kids are doing and only speak when asked a direct question. I wish that I was less socially retarded, but eh... Working on it sounds like too much effort. So, the first party was a bitter disappointment in a general way. Most of the Moms were older than me and had the 'Mom look' that I desperately try to avoid. Only one woman bothered to introduce herself and talk to me out of the two dozen or so that were there and as she did so all I could think about was running away. She told me about how supportive the club was for stay-at-home mothers (working mothers are not welcome) and that it literally is her life line. I looked around and decided that this was not a life line that I wanted. The second group party that we visited however was fantastic. The moms were young and trendy and actually spoke to one another. They made us feel welcome and Marnie had so much fun playing with all of the children. I knew that I wanted to belong to this group and I took the registration home to fill out. Sadly, there it sat on my counter for days and then weeks and then, actually I have no idea what ever happened to it. Winter came and went and like I had swore I would not do, we holed up in our little house praying for spring to arrive.

I am not sure what reminded me of the group or why I was so suddenly motivated to join, but I did so about six weeks ago. There are many events to attend but we haven't gone to any. Something always comes up to prevent our attendance. Every Wednesday during the summer there is a park day play-date and I have honestly planned to attend each one for the past six weeks. One of the kids always wakes up sick the day of or Troy forgets to leave the car-seats and we are stranded. This week, due to heavy rains, the park was exchanged for this funky venue called Liberty Zone. As the word 'zone' might imply, it is an area filled with tunnels and climbing and kids screaming. I had never heard of this place before and after inquiring about it's location, was surprised to find out that it is within a Baptist church. It is also a mere six minute drive from our home. We made it this morning and spent a fun filled two and a half hours in the wackiest church around the corner in their free indoor playground thingy. The kids played and hopefully little budding friendships began to develop. I as well met some neat moms and hopefully I too will make some friendships. We'll see. I am not so great at getting those going either. If nothing else we will always have Liberty Zone.

peeps.

Oooohh... I just ordered my chicks today! They are due to arrive next week Wednesday thru Saturday. Can you believe they actually arrive by the United Postal Service? That is crazy. I am a farmer now via the internet. I ordered a brown egg variety pack. Just like KFC. They ensure a varying brood of at least five types. The company also throws in a free 'rare breed' chick if you are so inclined. I am thankyouverymuch. I've never raised chickens before, so this should be an interesting Fall. Especially because they have to live in a tub within the house for a couple of weeks and then in a pen in the garage for about five more. In about 20 weeks though I am going to feast on an omelet to be envious of.

gluten sucks.

Over the Fourth of July holiday of 2005, I read a book that changed my life forever. After the first chapter of Gluten Free Bible, I knew without a doubt that I had Celiac Disease and that my body was fighting itself (with dire consequences) because of wheat. I was devastated and yet a little trickle of excitement crept in from behind also because maybe, just possibly some of the problems I had been enduring were not normal...

Looking back now, I cannot believe I put up with all of the 'symptoms' that eventually lead me to conclude that I have a gluten allergy. I had a horrible case of insomnia and was barely sleeping at all, depression, I was losing hair, there were bumps all over my legs, I would bruise so badly that I was questioned about the relationship between Troy and I and of course the discomfort and embarrassment of bowel issues that almost all Celiacs experience. When bunched together, I am ashamed that I never sought a doctor's opinion to find out what the hell was wrong with me. As a teen I was diagnosed with a lactose intolerance which in turn I blamed for all of my bowel discomforts. I never thought to question it. The insomnia, bruising, hair loss and skin problems - my Mom had them also, so it was just assumed to be a hereditary problem (which of course it was - she has Celiac's disease also). This disease can be so hard to diagnose because the symptoms are not the same in every person every time. Many of the problems associated with this disease are also indicators of many other diseases and health issues. Gluten allergies are often misdiagnosed for Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Lactose allergies, Crohn's Disease and more. It was not until my Mom's stomach issues became so severe that cancer was feared and Celiac Disease was finally diagnosed.

I am in no way, intended or implied, an expert on Celiac Disease or gluten allergies. I simply am a girl who's body cannot handle wheat and I think it sucks. For those of you who do not have a problem with wheat, sit back and think about what items you eat that contain the ingredient... Of course there are the biggies such as bread and everything made with flour (pancakes, pastries,pasta, pretzels, etc.) but it is far more reaching than that. Flour is used to thicken so many foods that many dietary staples become untouchable - soups, gravies and sauces are almost all off limit. Wheat is a common ingredient in almost every convenience food and you can kiss all fast food goodbye.

The first few months with the disease were hard. Many people in my family, Troy included, were very doubtful of the disease. I was probably overreacting or misinformed... Celiac Disease was basically unknown. Who the hell is allergic to wheat? It was especially difficult for Troy to wrap his head around because he is a fantastic cook and would spend many hours a week cooking amazing Cajun and Creole dishes for his family to eat. Dishes his family could no longer eat because every single one of them contained this ingredient that we know had to consider poison. We had a pity party.

Eventually however, you begin to accept the new terms of your life. Health problems that you had been experiencing disappear as if by magic in the absence of wheat. When you do not discard this way of eating as you maybe would a fad diet, people around you begin to seek out information on their own and slowly choose to believe you or at the very least accept that you believe you. You begin to adjust your thinking and come to accept that eating salads for every meal is your new way of life.

But that sucks. Veggies are great, but I just cannot eat them for every meal, every day. Troy, no matter how hard he tried, could not stay away from the kitchen. The experimenting began. Over these couple of years, Troy and I have invented many dishes and tweaked many recipes so that meals could be eaten by me. A lot of the earlier tries were really disgusting. We have gotten better and now, we can make the most amazing meals and I would bet our goats that no one would ever guess that wheat was taboo in our home.

Our lives are now almost completely back to pre Celiac normalcy. I still obviously cannot order whatever I want in a restaurant or dive into Thanksgiving Dinner at my Aunt Jean's, however here in my home, we live normally. We have delicious pizza every Friday night during our Family Fun night. I bake cookies with my daughter and celebrate birthday's with yummy cake. I am lucky. I wish that for all people who suffer from this awful allergy. I hope that we can help.