“One Kiss” Confusion

A few weeks back, I was driving 7yo to his gymnastics class and “One Kiss” by Calvin Harris and Dua Lipa came on the radio. If you’re not familiar with it, the lyrics of the song go like this:

One kiss is all it takes to fall in love with me – the possibilities.

I wasn’t really paying attention to the music, but my thoughts were interrupted by 7yo halfway through the song:

7yo: Wait! This song doesn’t make any sense!

Me: No? In what way?

7yo: Well, you don’t kiss someone until you love them, so why would they be kissing in the first place?

Me (smiling): That’s a very good point, buddy.

7yo: I mean, are these people at a party somewhere and they trip and fall face first into each other and when their lips smash into each other they accidentally fall in love? That doesn’t make any sense. I don’t think that’s how it works.

Me: You’re right, buddy. This song doesn’t make any sense.


Ah, if only life were so simple.


Reliving Game of Thrones: No Thanks

(For those of you dwelling in caves: spoilers ahead!)

Like millions of people around the world, Jim and I are anxiously awaiting the return of Game of Thrones for it’s final (and shortest) season. We already have plans with friends to get together every week to see if Jon Snow (aka Aegon Targaryen) is actually Azor Ahai.

(I would also like to point out here that Aegon, Targaryen, Azor, and Ahai are all accepted words in Google Docs, and Google knew that I actually meant “Jon” and not “John” as I originally typed. So creepy.)

In preparation, Jim has decided to re-watch all seven existing seasons. This is where I bow out.

Don’t get me wrong, I love GOT. But I also can’t stand it. Even when I know something is coming (because I looked it up online ahead of time to appease my anxiety) I still can barely stand to watch it. We were one season late coming to the party, so I had already heard that Ned Stark, the apparent hero of season 1, gets beheaded during the penultimate episode.  That didn’t get to me. The first actual warning I got that GOT may be too much for my sensibilities was when Cersei Lannister sent soldiers to Littlefinger’s brothel to stab bastard Baratheon babies. That sword sliced through a pretend baby and I was like, “Nope, I’m outa here!”

I was so intrigued by the story, however, that I came back. Every time the show passed my emotional limit, I still came back. The Red Wedding, the killing of direwolves, the burning of Shireen Baratheon, and even the death of Hodor ripped me apart. And yet, I came back.

What I won’t do, however, is watch it all again. I will not submit myself to four seasons of King Joffrey or Ramsey Bolton again. I will not watch half of my favorite characters die again. As satisfying as it would be to watch Daenerys (also in the autocorrect, btw) walk through fire not once, but twice, I think I’ll just look those scenes up on YouTube.

More power to Jim if he can spend two days, 15 hours, and 30 minutes watching the whole thing again. I’ll be there for the season premiere in April, watching through my fingers with a nice glass of wine. Until then, no thank you.

I Made A Cake!

I am usually pretty lazy when it comes to cake-baking. Often, I give 12yo the task because she enjoys it and then I don’t have to do it. Lately, however, I’ve been watching the Great British Bake-Off. So, when my mother asked me to make the cake for my grandmother’s 85th birthday party, I was inspired to try something new.

I have almost no knowledge of how to decorate cakes, and I am definitely missing some essential tools (off-set scraper, turn table, etc.). I DO have YouTube, so I watched a few videos and gave it a try. It didn’t quite turn out how I would have liked it in my head, but it was not bad for a first decorated cake. It looked pretty AND tasted quite good, so everyone was happy.

We haven’t travelled for a while, so I’ve been missing a creative outlet since I don’t have any videos to edit. This was the perfect task to give my creativity a boost, and it has inspired me to try it again.

Happy Birthday, Gram!


It’s only Wednesday!?

Some weeks are hard. This week has been hard for me. I’ve cried a couple times already and it’s only Wednesday. I’ll be fine, my family will be fine, but some weeks just sit on your shoulders and heart. This is one of those weeks.

To pick myself up, I googled “cute puppies.”  Try it, it helps.

Our New Truck!

Jim and I are so excited to share our new truck with you! We brought our new 2018 F250 home with us yesterday!


We are especially excited because, although we have needed a new truck for quite some time, we wanted to pay off our car first. By the time we managed to do that last month, Jim had already picked out the truck he wanted. Now, we can’t wait to use it to pull the camper!

No, YOU Pick It UP!!!

Yesterday, I discovered a parenting hack that worked so well I thought I would share it. You may have already done this yourself, but I had never thought of it, so I’m sure there is someone else out there who could find this to be useful.

We have a big, finished room in our basement where our two younger kids keep many of their toys. This room is often anxiety-inducing, as my littles have the typical childhood habit of leaving all their toys on the floor. Fortunately, the mess is hidden in the basement most of the time. The difficulty comes when I decide it is finally time for them to clean it up.

If I send them downstairs with the command to put away their toys, one or more of the following ALWAYS happens:

  • After some time passes, they come upstairs and tell me everything is put away. What has actually happened is they have put away a handful of things and the rest of the toys have miraculously become invisible to only the two of them. After giving them a few more chances, one of us eventually comes downstairs and has to tell them specifically what items do not belong on the floor.
  • They go downstairs to clean, forget immediately they are supposed to be cleaning, and begin to play with their toys instead. The room is now messier than before.
  • After 3 minutes, one of them comes upstairs to claim that the other one “isn’t cleaning ANYTHING!” after which, the other one yells, “I am TOO cleaning!” Truthfully, neither one of them is cleaning.
  • Shouts of “That’s not mine!” and “I didn’t get that out!” echo from the basement. No one picks up anything because nothing belongs to anyone.


Yesterday was a snow day with lots of sleet, so we were stuck inside. Again, I told them to go pick up their toys, and more than one of the above scenarios began to play out. I was preoccupied with an organizing task of my own and I didn’t want to stop to go supervise their cleaning.

Suddenly, inspiration hit and I had an idea. I gave these instructions:

“James, you pick ONE thing that Harper has to put away. Then, Harper, you get to pick one thing James has to put away. It can be ANY toy that isn’t where it belongs and you can’t argue. Just put it away.”

And it worked. In less time than normal, all the toys were off the floor and no one was fighting.


This was successful for a few reasons:

  1. They got to boss each other around and take turn being in charge, which they LOVE.
  2. It narrowed the task down to just one item at-a-time.
  3. They took turns, so there was no argument about who was doing more.
  4. It took away the idea of “yours” and “mine” so they didn’t waste time arguing about whose fault it was that the item was on the floor in the first place.

Before, I would have stood in the room and done the exact same thing: “Harper, put away that princess doll. James, put away this nerf gun.” This simple adaptation kept their cleaning task the same, but allowed me to step out of the equation. It also broke down the steps of having to 1) identify the misplaced object and 2) put it wear it belongs. Instead, they only had to do half of the process at once, so they never got overwhelmed.

It may not work for everyone, but I will definitely be using this method in the future. I may even look for ways to use it to accomplish other difficult parenting tasks.

Do you have a useful tip for cleaning with your kids? If so, share it in the comments!

The Polar Vortex

My facebook feed is rife with screenshots of everyone’s weather apps showing it is -5 degrees here in PA. With the wind chill, it will get down to -30 in some areas. Chicago transit is setting their train tracks on fire to keep them from breaking. Schools are closed all over the country. People who don’t understand science are posting, “what about global warming?”


Our family is doing just fine on this cold day off, snuggled under blankets, watching YouTube. Because spending a day at home without accomplishing something causes me intense anxiety, I am sure I will organize something today. Otherwise, I will read, spend time with the kids, spend time avoiding the kids, and maybe change from my current set of pajamas to another set of pajamas.

That being said, it is not lost on me that there are people out there suffering through this cold: people who are housing-insecure with little to no shelter, children who are food-insecure and will not eat because they are not in school, and people who will lose pay because their workplaces are closed. If you know anyone in those situations, reach out to them. If you are in one of those situations, reach out to us. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, for food, for shelter. If you lose your power and cannot stay warm, come share our warmth. There is room for you here.


My 19 for 2019

I’m a latecomer to the world of Gretchen Rubin. I discovered her last summer when I was looking for podcasts to listen to that would lift my spirit and help me develop a positive mindset. I simply typed “happiness” into my podcast app’s search bar and the top podcast was entitled: “Happier, with Gretchen Rubin.” I had no idea who she was or that she had a best-selling self-help book, The Happiness Project (and several others), I just liked the title and I appreciated the simplicity of her advice.

Image result for 19 for 2019 happier gretchen rubin

One of her projects last year was “18 for 2018,” a personalized list of tasks one would like to tackle throughout the year. Because I started listening mid-year, I was too late to take on that one, but decided to give it a try this year and do “19 for 2019.” The best thing about the list is that it is low-pressure. The tasks aren’t resolutions and they don’t have to be life-changing. They can be as mundane as finding a new shampoo or they can be as monumental as quitting smoking. At the end of the year, there are no expectations that you will have completed all 19. Instead, you can enjoy the satisfaction found in the ones you did accomplish.

For accountability, I’ve decided to post my 19 for 2019 here on my blog. As the year goes one I’ll come back to revisit the ones I complete.

My 19 for 2019 (in no particular order):

  • Watch ALL the Avengers movies in chronological order before seeing Avengers:Endgame.
  • Run in 6 local 5ks
  • Spend one entire day playing Zelda on the wii
  • Finish reading every book club book (1 each month)
  • Organize our important paperwork
  • Fix our printer
  • Organize our address book before Christmas card time
  • Get our passports renewed
  • Learn to play my dulcimer
  • Lose 15 pounds
  • Keep a calendar of time spent with friends so I can make sure I’m not neglecting any friendships.
  • Visit Valley Forge with the kids.
  • Visit every covered bridge in Columbia County, PA.
  • Update our wall photography.
  • Write at least one blog post per week.
  • Get my hair colored.
  • Get a professional family photo taken.
  • Do three service projects with the kids.
  • Get grass to grow in the muddy spots our yard.

If I accomplish even half of these, I will consider it a pretty successful year.

Do you have a 19 for 2019 list?

Saying Goodbye to Sophie

In November of 2004, 3 months into our marriage, Jim and I took the next obvious step: we got a dog.


I wanted a Sheltie (Shetland Sheepdog) because I had one growing up and she was super smart and fluffy. We saw an ad for a litter in the paper, so we called and headed to the breeder to see the puppies. We were so naïve. Looking back, there’s so much we should’ve done. We didn’t ask to see the parent dog. We never asked to see where the dogs were kept. We didn’t know to ask how many litters the mother had or how recently she had her last litter. We waited in the breeder’s laundry room while she brought the last female sheltie pup.

The breeder set the 12-week-old puppy down on the laundry room floor and I immediately scooped her up. She smelled like barn. She was soft and alert and not afraid of me at all. I looked at Jim and asked, “can I keep her?” and she turned her head to look at him, anxiously awaiting his response. I’m not sure why I even asked, because I knew he was already thinking of names in his head. She headed home with us that afternoon and we named her “Sophie.”

When we got home and put her on the kitchen floor, she immediately ran to our glass-faced dishwasher, whining and pawing at its surface. She ran from side to side, trying to squeeze in the cracks between the dishwasher and cupboards. Perplexed at first, we realized she was looking at her reflection, not realizing it was her own image looking back at her and not her brother, the only pup left at the breeder’s.


After an adjustment period, she settled in nicely. Jim did most of the training and she was a quick study. Before long, she could sit, stay, shake, and play a mean game of catch. She barked like crazy, which is a trait of her breed, but otherwise she was the perfect pup. She travelled with us and we brought along a doggie travel bag. It’s fortunate we didn’t have social media at the time, because we would have embarrassed ourselves with constant posts of our puppy love.

It was just past her first birthday that her first back knee went out. It was terribly painful to watch and we quickly paid out the $1200 for surgery to correct the birth defect known as a patellar luxation. A year later, the other knee went out and we coughed up the money again. In her recovery, she depended too much on her front legs and developed arthritis in those. She also favored one side as she lay on the floor, causing her spine to curve. As a result, she would walk with a crooked, limpy gait for the rest of her life.

When she approached 8 years old, the age at which my first Sheltie had passed, we began to prepare for the end. She had been crippled for most of her life, how much longer could she last? Still, she played a slow game of fetch at every opportunity. The months passed by, and then the years. Every few months we would say, “I think it may be almost time,” then she would rebound with a renewed zest for life. Before we knew it, she was fourteen.

The past few months, however, things began to get gradually worse. Walking was the least of her problems. First, her eyesight began to blur, then her hearing began to go. The condition of her teeth required soft meals and her smell turned sour. Despite all her maladies, she was still alert and gregarious, barking at our young Australian Shepherd as she played catch and longing to join in but happy to cheer from the sidelines.

Finally, this past week, it was time to say good-bye. Fourteen-and-a-half years – practically our entire marriage – she had been our baby. But it was time.

Everyone is sad, but we are also relieved that she is no longer suffering and grateful for the many memories she gave us:

  • The time she made a wall of garbage around our first baby’s crib while we were out so we knew what she thought about not being the only baby anymore.
  • The way she would sit up on her hind legs to beg for attention.
  • The time we caught her on the dining room table, eating out of the butter dish.
  • The little jump she would do before she came running when we called.
  • The way she would pile her toys on our guests’ laps, daring them to throw just one.
  • Her affinity for Grammy, who hates dogs.

When you get a pet, you know that one day you will have to say goodbye. While the goodbye is terrible, it certainly doesn’t outweigh the joy that comes before.

We miss you Sophie! Thank you for all the joy you brought to our lives.


Moving Memories

Recently, my grandmother was at our house to celebrate our December birthdays with us. She was walking through the kitchen and stopped for a moment to look at our cabinets. I walk through that room so often that I don’t even see them anymore. Watching her look at them reminded me how special they are.

My grandparents built their house on the family farm in the 1950s, starting small and adding on whenever possible. They raised 4 boys and 1 girl in that house. I spent every afternoon there as a toddler while my parents’ work shifts overlapped. Our extended family celebrated countless Easters, Christmases, and birthdays within those walls. In my mind, I can still walk through the house and feel the textures and smell the familiar smells.

My family gathering for the holidays.

My grandmother holding our first baby in her living room.

The house was demolished in 2008 after it was decided that repairs to keep it habitable would be too costly. My grandfather had passed away ten years earlier and my grandmother was living on her own in a house that was too much work to maintain. It was decided that a new house would be built in its place and demolition began that summer.

Demolition on the house

Before the old house was demolished, Jim was able to salvage the kitchen cabinets. They were already fifteen years old, having been replaced by my grandfather a few years before he passed. They were excellent quality and far better than the 1970s stock cabinets we currently had in our kitchen. He carefully removed them with the help of a friend and they sat in our garage while we slowly remodeled our kitchen. The two kitchens were different designs, so the cabinets had to be assembled like puzzle pieces. Jim worked methodically. In the end, we had a beautiful new kitchen.

Jim, piecing together the salvaged cabinets

The original house has been gone for over a decade and our kitchen no longer feels new. It was lovely to be reminded of how special it is that we were able to use a part of our family’s history to create new memories with our own children. One day, Jim and I will leave this house and it will be hard to leave those cabinets behind. For now, I can appreciate how special they are to our family.

Our kitchen now