Confessions from a Cornfield

Holiday Happiness.

2011-11-04T20:50:00.001-05:00

Yep. The holidays are right around the corner and this year, like every year, I thought I’d get a jump start on pictures for our Christmas cards. I loath this process. The picture I always envision for the card is nothing like the one that actually gets printed. Inevitably one of the two kids is in a bad mood and refuses to smile. They don’t want to stand next too or touch each other. There is usually a fight about clothing, hair style or location. The only reason we get one so-so picture every year is almost always because I threaten them within an inch of their lives. Not this year.

This year I decided to do something different. Take their pictures individually. And so Andrew, being the only one home this afternoon, was the first. Easy enough I thought. Him. A good mood. The dog. Great lighting. And this. This is what I got.

“Help? Someone? Anyone?”

The dog. Clearly as amused about this process as I am.

K-9 Compassion.

2011-09-06T17:34:00.001-05:00

I dropped Bono off at the University of Illinois this morning for physical therapy as it’s been six weeks since his second hip surgery. You can read more about the surgery/therapy here.

For those of you who know Bono, you know that he is not fond of most men. He tolerates some but most he has no use for and will bark and growl his irritation with their presence.

As we sat waiting for the therapist to whisk him away to his aquatic retreat, a young couple came in with the biggest Rottweiler I have ever seen. If her shear size did not make everyone notice her when she walked in the room, then the stuffed pink pig she carried in her mouth did.

The only empty seats in the waiting room were across from us. I thought it strange that Bono did not try to greet the rottie with his typical over excited wiggle. I figured her size, that stuffed pink pig hanging out of her mouth and the man sitting next to her threw him for enough of a loop that he could not be bothered with any of them. A few minutes went by. Dogs came and went. Bono greeted each of them as they strolled by.

The husband sat, elbows on knees, arms crossed in front as he spoke quietly to his wife. Soon Bono tried pulling his way in their direction. The wife told me it was fine for him to visit. She said their dog was kind and liked other dogs. I let go of the leash.

Instead of going to the rottie, he strolled right to the man. He nosed his way through the crossed arms. Parked himself between the man’s legs. Leaned against him with all of his weight while stretching his pointy nose to the man’s neck. Shocked was the only thing I could think of but, not wanting to make a big deal of the situation, I kept my mouth shut. I figured at any minute Bono would realize who it was and would run out of their barking and growling the whole way. Instead, the man assured me he was fine as he scratched Bono’s ears and rubbed his chest. After a few minutes of sitting, Bono melted to the floor and rolled over asking for a belly rub.

It was then that the man told me their rottie was only 5 years old and had just been diagnosed with cancer of the spleen. They had brought her to the U of I’s vet school for chemotherapy. A last ditch effort to prolong her young life. Even for just a bit. He explained that they are not ready to let her go. She is their child.

Soon the therapist arrived and Bono slowly got up and wiggled his way to her leaving the man, his ginormous rottie, her pink pig and their grief behind.

I did not think much about any of these events as they unfolded in front of me. Being shocked at Bono’s affection for a man, any man, I was also overwhelmed by this couple’s grief. I, too, have had a four legged child that I was not ready to part with.

I don’t think it was an accident that Bono went to this man. I don’t think he went too him because of his scent. Or because he was looking for someone to pet him in his moment of panic at finding himself at another vet’s office. I think we were there, waiting too long in the waiting room, so Bono could show some compassion to a man in his moment of grief at finding himself at another vet’s office.

Happiness today is….

2011-08-27T14:51:00.001-05:00

…the look of determination.

The Sunday Sillies.

2011-08-21T20:08:00.001-05:00

For you Grandma Grandma….

Andrew came home from school Friday…

and something was missing…

he was not shy about it then, but trying to get a picture of the missing item tonight turned out to be a 20 minute long giggle fest.

Please?? Can you be serious for just one picture??

Finally!!!

And though he was happy it was gone and eagerly accepted the tooth fairy's offerings, I don’t think it ever occurred to him that sucking his two fingers was going to be such a challenge. :)

(I did not edit his eyes. They were really that blue tonight.)

The Funny Things in Life.

2011-04-05T06:39:00.001-05:00

Today is April 5th. I’ve already checked my email, creeped on Facebook and stalked my favorite photography blogs. The dog has herded the cats to the basement no fewer than 12 times. The kids will be up soon. One will be happy and one will not. Pancakes will be made, shoes will be tied, and teeth will be brushed. Friends will arrive for their daily ride to school. A seemingly normal day like the many that have come before it. But today is April 5th. April 5th is the Consolidated Election in our area. I’ve written about the Consolidated Election before. You can read about it here. That was funny. But really, what is funnier than that day is today. Because today, MY name appears on the ballot. Nothing will be funnier today than the thought that I, Melanie Kunkel, will be an elected official by this time tomorrow.

Sweet Shot Tuesday

2011-03-08T08:36:00.001-06:00

I love this shot of these two foster puppies.

“Wait! We want to go too!!!!”

Goodnight Moon.

2011-02-19T20:35:00.001-06:00

Saving Bono

2011-02-19T09:01:00.001-06:00

Bono.

He is our one year old foster dog with New Spirit 4 Aussie Rescue.

For as much as he was blessed with good looks and interesting markings,

a sweet personality and a love for children,

he was also cursed with extremely deformed and painful hips.

A deformity brought on by humans who either refuse to spay/neuter their animals or intentionally breed dogs with known medical issues in an attempt to make a few dollars. We as humans did this to him and we as humans need to fix it.

The surgery he needs has to be done on both hips. One at a time with a six week recovery period in between. And it is expensive. Bono had his first surgery the week before Christmas.

After an 8 week recovery period he was sent to the University of Illinois' veterinary clinic for a week of physical therapy which included aquatic therapy on an underwater treadmill

and exercise on the lamb treadmill

The therapy is an attempt to strengthen the repaired leg sufficiently to support his weight when surgery is performed on the other hip. And I am happy to say it worked! Bono came home yesterday a lot stronger than when he left, his limp is minimal, he is able to negotiate stairs one leg at a time and, most importantly, he is able to herd the cats. Because herding cats is a necessity!

With another surgery looming like a black cloud, we know he still has a long road ahead of him. But Bono is worth saving.

If you’d like to make a donation to Bono’s cause, click on the link below.

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Happiness today is…

2011-02-13T13:22:00.001-06:00

Sweet Shot Tuesday

2011-02-10T16:15:00.001-06:00

I was not going to enter a photo this week. Just not feeling inspired. I'm cold. Cold to the bone. Love the snow. LOVE IT! Negative temps with wind chill? Not so much. This morning as I was searching for the frozen pancakes I saw this picture. I printed it, as well as several others, on magnet paper. These are what adorn the front of our fridge. This picture though, it is a favorite of my girl. Taken last May. Nothing puts me in a better mood than watching her play sports.

And what makes me smile most when I look at it is that she was trying her hardest to appear tough and mean in front of the other team. Trying to scare them. But I know the truth. She is sweet and kind and, although she is pre-teen and can exhibit that pre-teen nastiness sometimes, she does not have a mean bone in her body.

If you get a chance, go check out the other sweet shots HERE.

Happiness today is…

2011-02-07T14:02:00.001-06:00

The first time.

2011-02-03T09:33:00.001-06:00

There is a first time for everything. And our recent blizzard was a first for the kids and I. Not many blizzards hit Florida in the 31 years I lived there. As much as I prayed for one as a child, it just never happened. I remember the pictures my grandmother would send me when they had blizzards in Massachusetts. Mountains of snow piled high outside the bow window of her living room. Photos of their dog, Sissy, standing next to the freshly plowed bank of snow bordering their driveway. I spent a lot of time starring at those pictures. Wishing and dreaming that I was there. I would pretend that my clothes were damp because I had stood outside in the falling snow with no jacket to protect me. When reality came rushing back I’d know that may damp clothes were not damp from falling snow but because of the oppressive heat, humidity and buckets of perspiration that were a part of everyday life in South Florida.

While everyone was moaning, groaning and complaining about the forecasted 20+” of snow, we were eagerly awaiting it’s arrival. Sure. We’ve seen 20” of snow in the four years we’ve lived here. A few inches at a time. 20” of snow all at once? BRING IT!

At first it coated all of our windows like the hurricane shutters we’d place on the windows of our home in Florida.

This was the only window we could see out of. But only for a short period of time. That hole closed up quickly.

Several times during the storm Eric, Syd and I would put on our coats/boots and run out into the madness to get a first hand view of the growing snow drifts around our garage.

When morning came it was time to dig out.

and it looked like it was going to take us HOURS! But then….a knight on a shiny green tractor backed into our drive.

and did this:

Look at how thick that glorious snow is! I love it!!

It took him all of 5 minutes to clear our driveway. And we were not sad about that. Thank you Tom!

Friends came to play.

Some of us continued to shovel.

A friend and I walked to the local bar for lunch because, well, what else do you do after a blizzard?

At noon Main Street in our town still looked like this:

At the end of the day we took a walk to see what we could see.

We found snow piles as tall as street signs.

A good spot to take a load off.

A perfectly plowed sidewalk.

And Mount Lexington.

And as the sun went down, we vowed to do it all again tomorrow.

Happiness today is…

2011-01-30T12:03:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is….

2011-01-29T18:23:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2011-01-28T07:07:00.001-06:00

Sweet Shot Tuesday Post

2011-01-25T20:02:00.002-06:00

SAY CHEESE!

I Heart Faces | Innocent Wonder

2011-01-24T12:32:00.001-06:00

This week’s theme over at I Heart Faces is Innocent Wonder and my favorite picture from the past couple of weeks is this one:

A friend’s daughter. She is three. After watching the older kids snowboard, she begged and begged to give it a try. When the answer was always no, she took matters into her own hands; going to the bottom of the big hill, finding a smaller one and conning her older sister into letting her give it a go. When her parents noticed what was going on, her dad brought her halfway up the big hill, put her little boots inside the bindings and sent her on her way. I love how she looked up at me to make sure I was watching.

Just because…

2011-01-21T12:44:00.001-06:00

I have nothing better to do than take pictures of my animals.

Happiness today is…

2011-01-20T14:03:00.001-06:00

I Heart Faces | Winter Wonderland

2011-01-17T06:11:00.001-06:00

This week’s theme over at I Heart Faces is Winter Wonderland. Well…..with all the snow we’ve had recently, finding a picture worthy of the theme was no problem at all. Deciding on one of the 10,000 snow pictures I have? Now that left me scratching my head. But alas I chose this one.

Nothing depicts a Winter Wonderland more than a child sledding until her feet can’t drag her up the hill anymore.

Waiting…Watching…Wondering…

2011-01-15T20:11:00.001-06:00

…when he can go outside to run and play like a dog should.

Wipe out….

2011-01-15T09:36:00.001-06:00

Syd style.

I Heart Faces Photo Contest | Smile

2011-01-10T07:30:00.001-06:00

This week’s photo contest theme over at I Heart Faces is Smile and while I have TONS of pictures with smiles of all shapes and sizes, none of them crack me up more than this picture right here.

There is nothing better than a group of adults having more fun sledding than their children.

For the kids.

2011-01-09T19:49:00.001-06:00

We had snow on the ground here in central Illinois for almost the entire month of December. I think it broke some sort of record. Apparently snow in December is a rare occasion around these parts. And when there is snow, we must sled! So, sled we did. Four times over the course of two days. If everyday life would not get in my way we’d have gone EVERYDAY!!

And sledding would not be sledding unless we invited friends. LOTS of friends.

That way I can say I do it for the kids.

Girls are really weird.

2011-01-06T13:15:00.001-06:00

I don’t really know what to say about these pictures.

I don’t really know what their goal was.

I just know that when we got home they set up their make-shift spa, busted out the chocolate and cucumber mud masks and asked me to take pictures.

And when they headed outside to go for a walk around the block looking like this:

Andrew turned to me and said “Mom, girls are really WEIRD!!”

Happiness today is…

2011-01-05T14:51:00.001-06:00

Happiness today would be…

2011-01-03T20:20:00.001-06:00

Happiness yesterday was…

2010-12-31T09:58:00.001-06:00

…the birthday boy!!

Happiness today is…

2010-12-25T12:41:00.001-06:00

Merry Christmas!!

Happiness today is…

2010-12-24T14:42:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-12-17T14:17:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-12-14T17:46:00.001-06:00

I Heart Faces Photo Contest | Pet Faces

2010-12-13T08:16:00.001-06:00

I know some of you have seen this picture before of my daughter Sydney and our very first Aussie foster dog, Bailey, but I thought I’d post it again and enter it into a Pet Faces photo contest. Of course her face is beautiful too.

Bailey belongs to the New Spirit 4 Aussie Rescue group and only stayed with us for a couple of days but the kids fell in love with him pretty quickly.

You can check out more furry/feathery/scaly pics here.

An uncomfortable compromise.

2010-12-11T10:29:00.001-06:00

Having claimed this chair as his own when he first came to our house, Bono was not real happy when Garfield decided to use it. When doggie intimidation did not work to remove the feline intruder, the only other option was to climb up and sit on him.

Singing.

2010-12-11T09:38:00.001-06:00

Loving the holidays…

2010-12-09T20:48:00.002-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-12-09T07:12:00.001-06:00

Sweet Shot Tuesdays

2010-12-08T18:53:00.003-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-12-07T13:51:00.001-06:00

It is REALLY cold outside!

2010-12-06T13:51:00.002-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-12-05T12:36:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-12-04T13:20:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-12-03T15:41:00.001-06:00

I Heart Faces Photo Challenge – Scenic B&W

2010-11-29T20:49:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-11-28T13:24:00.001-06:00

You know you might be obsessed when…

2010-11-20T17:29:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is….

2010-11-20T15:15:00.001-06:00

When all else fails…

2010-11-19T14:11:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-11-18T18:56:00.001-06:00

What is cuter than one white, deaf puppy?

2010-11-17T14:58:00.001-06:00

My…

2010-11-16T14:42:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-11-14T16:05:00.001-06:00

Puppies.

2010-11-13T06:39:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-11-12T15:29:00.001-06:00

Cuteness is…

2010-11-11T06:43:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-11-10T16:33:00.001-06:00

Foster Dogs.

2010-11-10T05:57:00.001-06:00

This is Bailey.

The first of what I’m sure will be many Australian Shepherds we will foster over the coming months. I met someone who does a lot of work for the New Spirit 4 Aussie Rescue organization. You can read about them here. With the high demand for relinquished or abandoned Aussies and, with the lesser amount of foster homes to transition these dogs into an adoptive home, she asked if we would be interested in fostering. And so, Bailey came into our lives last Friday. He is four. And he is a character.

I like Bailey. And he likes me. He has been a great running buddy, herder of my family members, thief of used, wet towels, and chaser of squirrels. He has been a lover of my children and, on occasion, has used one of us as a recliner.

So today we say goodbye to Bailey and, although we are sad to see him go, I suspect our grief will be short lived. A little bird told me the Australian Shepherd fairy will be visiting our home while we are at school today. I’m glad because in the few short days Bailey has been here we’ve kinda gotten used to a giant, wet nose following us around the house.

Success is…

2010-11-09T14:47:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is….

2010-11-07T16:19:00.001-06:00

Happiness today is…

2010-11-06T13:27:00.001-05:00

Anticipation is…

2010-11-05T20:13:00.001-05:00

Small Townness. Part 1.

2010-11-03T16:43:00.001-05:00

When I was in high school and one of the sports teams had won enough regular season games to advance to area conference, regional or even state playoff games, the event was marked by a blurb read over the morning announcements at school. Anyone outside the school walls only knew of such achievements by reading the fine print in the sports page of the Palm Beach Post or was directly related to someone on said team. There really was never any great fanfare.

In our small town, team spirit is an all encompassing small town event. When the teams are leaving town, a crowd of well wishers gather on Main Street to honk their horns and shake their pom-poms

while the team and their bus get a siren screaming, light flashing fire truck escort out of town.

After four years of small town living, there are still some things I just have not gotten used to.

Best Shot Monday entry.

2010-11-01T13:20:00.001-05:00

Halloween for us was….

2010-10-31T19:38:00.001-05:00

and

Happy Halloween everyone!

Perseverance is…

2010-10-31T10:40:00.001-05:00

Happiness today is…

2010-10-30T13:15:00.001-05:00

Happiness today will be…

2010-10-29T06:22:00.001-05:00

Happiness is…

2010-10-28T18:06:00.001-05:00

Happiness is…

2010-10-26T11:03:00.001-05:00

…staying inside when there are 50 mph wind gusts outside.

Happiness is also….

2010-10-25T13:00:00.001-05:00

…catching someone burglarizing your neighbor’s home. Who says stay at home moms don’t do anything!

(P.S.-I put whiteout over his face. Not sure why. But I did.)

Happiness is…

2010-10-25T09:25:00.001-05:00

… daydreaming of a cool design for your pumpkin.

Happiness is…

2010-10-24T11:03:00.001-05:00

..waking up in the morning to find your face is still painted from the night before.

10 Things You Won’t Find in Illinois

2010-07-24T18:48:00.001-05:00

1. A 10 year old veterinary surgical assistant.

2. A SpongeBob clad lizard hunter.

3. This strange bird.

4. A four legged Q-tip with a tongue and sharp teeth.

5. A lizard hiding from the SpongeBob clad hunter.

6. Love birds of a different breed.

7. Lorikeet tamer #1.

8. Her sharing a smile. Dolphin style.

9. Andre. The injured Green Sea Turtle. Asking for more pain meds.

10. Lorikeet tamer #2.

Catcher with a better attitude.

2010-06-24T03:53:00.001-05:00

The Important Things.

2010-06-23T12:53:00.001-05:00

The importance of remembering to remove one’s memory card from one’s computer would allow one to take pictures and/or video of their child’s coach pitch game last night.

This is not necessarily an admission of guilt but a mere reminder to my friends and family.

Looking out for others is just how I roll…. ;-)

Andrew…

2010-06-18T14:50:00.001-05:00

For you Dad.

2010-06-15T08:51:00.001-05:00

The first one, if it works, is Sydney hitting, running and scoring.

This one is of her catching, however, they get three outs right away so she never really has a chance to catch anything but it’s just funny watching her watch the ball.

Ready to Run.

2010-06-14T06:40:00.001-05:00

or not

Tough girl.

2010-06-08T23:39:00.001-05:00

She has spent a lot of time squatting behind home plate the past couple of years.

She’s made A LOT of catches. She’s also missed and/or dropped A LOT of catches. A missed or dropped catch in previous years was never a big deal. This year? Missed catches or dropped balls are immediate invitations for competitors to steal bases. Points rack up quickly when people steal home. It’s the catcher’s responsibility to make sure this does not happen.

Sydney’s catching philosophy? Look mean and act tough. She thinks she’s scary in her catcher’s gear.

A couple of times this season a runner on third base leads off and acts like she is going to steal home while Sydney scrambles to get the ball under control. Sydney, looking mean and acting tough, answers this taunt with a couple of hops, skips and jumps towards the runner in an attempt to “scare” the girl back onto the base.

The runner answers with a not-so-quick scoot back to her safe position. Then, and only then, will Sydney release the ball to the pitcher. It’s really a comical dance. They are, after all, only 10 years old.

We, on the sidelines, laugh and snicker. I mean, really. It’s not like she would ever really do something about it.

Last night. The first inning. The other team was leading 5-0 with two outs. Sydney and the runner on third base danced their comical dance a couple of times. We all laughed.

And then…..it happened. Sydney missed the catch. The runner wasted no time heading for home but tough girl was having none of it!! She scooped up the ball and then…well…she did this:

The pitcher, #9 there, did exactly what she was supposed to do. Cover home plate, wait for the catcher to toss her the ball and tag the girl before she slides home.

Ya, except this time Sydney did not toss her the ball. Nope. This time she called the runner’s bluff.

Tough girl caught the runner. Tagged her out via knocking her to the ground, spun on her heels and marched her tough self right off the field. Maybe she’s tougher than I thought.

Photography note: This is where the fine line between a nervously cheering parent and wanna-be-photographer are, literally, blurred. While I usually keep my composure long enough to snap pictures at the beginning and middle of the action shots, I always lose it at the end! Clearly I need to take lessons from tough girl!

Channeling her inner 2 year old.

2010-06-07T22:36:00.001-05:00

Tonight’s game. Against Leroy Team #1. They beat us by one point our very first game. This fact was not lost on any of our girls. Especially Sydney.

This was her chance to steal home. And so she went for it.

RUUUNNNN FORREST!!! RRRRUUUUNNNN!!

Slide Sydney!!! SLLLIIIIDDDDE!!!!

Shew! That was close!

Not the prettiest slide ever but effective. Good job girl!

Oh. But wait. Is that the pitcher trampling her as she’s trying to get up?

My my. It sure is!! And so how, exactly, does one handle being trampled by the pitcher you just scored on?

Well! You channel your inner 2 year old by sticking your tongue out…

check to see if your mother saw your shenanigans from the outfield…

then high five your friend as you walk off the field.

The Difference a Year Makes.

2010-06-02T16:19:00.001-05:00

This was Andrew during Coach Pitch last year…

that glove was full of sand thank you very much!

This was him yesterday…

ready to watch the ball roll by.

Last year…

not sure what to say about this.

This year…

throwing the ball to the first baseman (even if the batter has already made it there).

It is funny what a difference a year makes.

3 Things

2010-05-30T20:27:00.001-05:00

These three girls are the same age. How mine is sooo much taller than the others I’ll never know.
I have no idea what they were doing. Or thinking. I was simply asked to snap the picture. I did as I was told.
Friend on the left is wearing a tie “with a bunch of old men” on it. Those “old men” are The Three Stooges. They had no idea who The Three Stooges are! I told them that the men are much like three 10 year old girls I know who are sporting curly mustaches, ties, and oversized dress coats.

They thought that was funny.

Things that make you go hmmm…(or OH MY!)

2010-03-04T15:01:00.001-06:00

Andrew. His new favorite Wii game is Spore Hero. It is really a cute game. You start as a basic alien and collect/win different body parts as the game progresses. At certain points you can go back to your alien nest and apply these new parts to your alien’s body. The parts are designed to give you better running, jumping and fighting abilities.

It takes great concentration to add said parts to the proper area of the body.

Sitting at my computer, I knew what he was doing and I was ok with it. He and I have played this game together many times. It is a PG game.

After a few minutes he starts cracking up and calls me out to see what he’s done to his alien. “Blaahhahhha, you’ve got to see this. He looks SOOOO COOOOOLLLL.”

“I WISH I COULD HAVE THREE LEGS LIKE THAT!!!!”

After my eyeballs had been picked up off the floor and safely put back in their sockets, I told him I thought it would be a tad difficult for him to walk or run with three legs like that.

Then I locked myself in the bathroom and took a few deep breaths.

The Joke (part 3)

2010-03-02T14:19:00.001-06:00

Armed with my extra quadruple wide running shoes, a sporty looking, lightweight, running jacket thing (I might as well look like I know what I’m doing) and my iPod containing a new “Exercise” playlist full of up-beat/motivational music; the treadmill and I began our exercise regime.

Week 1 consisted of walking for 10minutes, jogging for 2. Then walking for 10 minutes and jogging for another 2. Week 2 would have consisted of walking 6 minutes, jogging 4. Twice. Except I got stuck on Week 1. For 3 weeks. (I told you I had never run anywhere except to the bathroom!) Clearly I needed help.

The Lake Run is a 4.3something, something mile run around Lake Bloomington on May 1st. It is put on by The Lake Run Club; a group of running enthusiasts who get together and, well…..run I guess. In anticipation of The Lake Run itself, The Lake Run Club enthusiasts group together and put on a “How to Run Class” for beginners called "Catch the Wave” (also called CTW).

The idea is to get someone, like myself, off the couch and running (and I use the term running very, very loosely here) enough so that, in theory, I could ~~run~~ ~~jog~~ ~~walk~~ shuffle the entire race on May 1st. Sign me up! I want to know the secret!

So the class runs for about 10 weeks and we meet every Tuesday night for approximately an hour and a half. The 10 weeks ends with the race itself.

Seven of the 15 women (not including the Pastor :-) signed on for CTW and we braved the first class together last Tuesday evening.

(…to be continued)

Pardon the Interruption.

2010-03-01T16:11:00.001-06:00

Because AOL gives me such a hard time about uploading/sending my pictures and because I thought these pictures of both kids came out pretty well, I am posting them here for my family to see!

Yes I know she is wearing a turquoise headband with a green jersey Nina. Matching is not her thing. But….

the fact that this one is actually IN the picture AND smiling more than makes up for the lack of style in the previous picture!

The Joke. (part 2)

2010-02-25T17:12:00.001-06:00

As my iPod whispered sweet nothings into its speakers, I wiped away the cob webs that had accumulated from a year’s worth of neglect. I promised, this time, to treat it with respect and dignity. I swore (on Girl Scout’s honor) never to use obscene hand gestures ever again. After a few test runs, it was clear the treadmill and I had buried the hatchet.

Next I had to make a withdrawal from my children’s college fund so I could purchase a pair of “running” shoes from a store that specializes in, of all things, running shoes! Upon my arrival the man asked me what I was looking for. ME: “A pair of running shoes.” HIM: “Do you run frequently?” ME: “No offense but does this body LOOK like it runs anywhere but to be first at the buffet line?” HIM: Snicker, laugh, eye roll

After 45 minutes walking around the store with old shoes, no shoes and 17 different kids of new shoes he tells me there is a problem. ME: “Of course there is a problem because this whole thing is a joke.” I tell him. “Do you want to here it? My joke?” HIM: “Not really.” ME: “Ok then. What could possibly be a problem” HIM: “Well, your feet are sooooo wide that I do not sell a woman’s shoe wide enough to fit your “running” foot properly.” ME: Blank stare. HIM: “Soooo, that last shoe you tried on is a men’s seven and a half quadruple extra wide. That is THE only shoe I have that will fit you properly” ME: “Of course. Sooooo does this shoe come with a WIDE LOAD sign so people behind me will know not to get too close to the sides of my feet?” HIM: “The register is that way.” ME: “Thanks for your help.”

(…to be continued)

The Joke.

2010-02-24T15:42:00.001-06:00

And it was. A joke. That’s how it started anyway. That day in January when Sara and I made a pact to get healthy and start exercising regularly. That was the first part of the joke. Neither of us were motivated enough to get the other to exercise consistently. SARA: “You wanna get together after school today and do that sit-up tape I have?” ME: “Naaaa.” SARA: “Ok. Talk to you tomorrow.” It was laughable.

ME: “Maybe we should sign up for The Lake Run. Perhaps that will motivate us.” This. This was the second part of the joke and quite possibly the punch line. Sara laughed. She laughed hard. We both laughed. You know that laugh. The “I’M PEEING IN MY PANTS” laugh. It was pretty funny. At that point the farthest I had ever run was, literally, to the bathroom.

Fast forward two weeks to a Pampered Chef party and a group of cackling women. There it was again. The Lake Run joke. Oh how we all laughed. Our Pampered Chef lady did not laugh. She had already signed up and had begun her training. We laughed at her too but somehow, by the time everyone was parting ways, we had all jokingly agreed to do it together. By the end of the week I had told everyone that would listen about my joke and before I knew it, 15 women (and a Pastor :-) jokingly agreed to do it too.

Not wanting to be out done by any of my friends and for fear of ending up as the butt end of the joke on D-Day, I knew I needed to begin MY training right then!

There is a treadmill in the basement. That treadmill and I parted ways more than a year ago. It was ugly. I’m pretty sure I used a few four letter words and not so nice hand gestures the last time I was down there. To begin my training, I had to befriend that old nemesis of mine. So I descended the stairs armed with my Swiffer duster, a can of WD-40 and waiving a white flag.

(….to be continued.)

It's Cold Outside

2010-02-21T06:51:00.004-06:00

Endangered Species.

2009-12-30T13:06:00.001-06:00

-noun

a species at risk of extinction because of human activity and/or changes in climate.

We have an endangered species in our home. It shows it’s face every once in a blue moon. Thus referred to as an endangered species. Good Lord am I smart! I saw our endangered species this very afternoon and just happened to have camera in hand.

It’s called sibling love and it is very rare indeed!

Packing Away Her Wings.

2009-12-18T18:25:00.001-06:00

Sydney ~~lost~~ yanked out a tooth at school the other day. It is probably one of her last.

She still believes in the tooth fairy. Or so I thought.

Just before bed she came to me and announced that she was not going to put the tooth under her pillow. No. Not this time. She had labeled this one a keeper. “Fine” I say. “I’m sure if you change your mind in a couple of days the tooth fairy will be happy to make a U-turn.”

“Are you sure the tooth fairy is real mom? Tell me the truth. I reeeaalllyyy want to know. The boys at school keep saying the tooth fairy is your dad but there is no way “she” could be my dad. He is sooo loud I would have heard him. So tell me. Is the tooth fairy real? I really want to know.”

I stared into her eyes for a long moment both sad that we have reached this point in her life and trying to decide whether she really wants me to tell her. She was eager and happy. Begging, at this point, for me to tell her the truth.

“No.” I say.

“She’s not real? So it’s been dad all along?” she asks.

"Ah….probably not your father. Of this I am certain.” I explain.

“Then who?” she asks and I think, is it really that inconceivable that I could be the tooth fairy. “Me!” was all I could say.

(with a snort and a laugh) “You? You are the tooth fairy?”

“Yes.” I say.

Her shoulders slumped, her eyes dropped with disappointment and suddenly the smile was long gone. I misjudged this moment. She was not ready for the truth. Or was she just disappointed that it was me rather than her dad?

“Are you suuuuure?”

“Yes.” I say.

“So you are the tooth fairy?” she asks incredulously. “You put on a fairy outfit with wings, sneak into my room while I’m asleep, take my tooth and put money under my pillow?” She was serious now.

“Errr….umm…ya, something like that.” I say

With renewed excitement she asks to see my costume and announces that she is going to search the whole house for it and when she finds it she is going to bring it to school to show her friends as “proof” that the tooth fairy is not real!!

“Sure.” I say. “You do that. I’ve packed my wings away reeeallly good; in a secret place. Let me know when you find them. Oh, and make sure you give them back. Your brother will be losing teeth soon.”

And with that the tooth fairy met her demise.

RIP tooth fairy. RIP.

Lucky with a touch of thoughtfulness.

2009-11-17T22:07:00.001-06:00

A couple of weeks ago I was in a car accident. A man, in a rush to buy snacks at Wal-Mart, hit me head on in the Petco parking lot. I was alone in the car that day. I walked away with only a bruise on my arm. I was lucky.

The insurance agent contacted me with a list of repair shops; most of which were associated with dealerships or major auto body chains. One, he explained, family owned and operated in Bloomington for a very long time. Paul’s. Having had my fill of car dealerships and major chains lately, I decided to try my luck with the little guy.

Two weeks and $6,000 worth of repaired damage later, I picked up my car, shook Mr. Paul’s hand and thanked him for his hard work.

Today I received a letter from Mr. Paul.

“Melanie

When a customer arrives at our facility it is usually the direct result of a misfortunate or unlucky event. Sadly, we’ve seen a lot of bad things happen to good people.

With that said, I’d like not only to thank you for allowing us to repair your damaged vehicle but attempt to turn your luck around.

Enclosed please find a few scratch off lottery tickets. If you’re not a gambler, please pass these on to a friend or family member that is. Otherwise, grab a coin, my friend, and scratch away.”

And so it seems I really was lucky.

Willing a Win.

2009-11-09T12:52:00.001-06:00

Sometimes, no matter how close your seats are to the in-zone,

no matter how many players utter their pregame prayers,

no matter how many fans spend their entire paychecks on wacky team apparel,

and no matter how many high-fives are slapped between perfect strangers in the crowd

sometimes, it’s just not enough for them to pull out a win.

Double Digits.

2009-09-22T05:50:00.001-05:00

At 11:15 this morning, my girl will enter the realm of double digits. She will turn 10. 10! How did that happen? How is it possible that I am the mother of a 10 year old?

Two days ago I stood at the bakery counter thumbing through the design book trying to pick a suitable design for her cake. I was specifically told NO Hannah Montana or anything of the like. And I was fine with that. But then I came across the Disney Princess designs and it made me realize what will be no more. Gone for good are the days of pink sequined dress-up dresses, cheep plastic shoes and feather boas. And gone are the days of princess birthday parties.

And all of this leaves me looking forward to (or shaking in my boots at) what’s to come.

My Sister’s Sister.

2009-08-30T22:23:00.001-05:00

My sister.

There is 11 years between us. We don’t look alike or dress alike but our love for animals is one of our common bonds.

My sister has dedicated her life to helping animals. Early on she worked at a “no kill” shelter and most recently as a Vet Tech at a small veterinary office in her hometown. She is notorious for scooping up strays off the streets no matter where she is.

Over the years she has brought home the sick, the depressed or the helpless newborns without a chance and nursed them all back to health. She does not think twice about what she does, rather views it as her mission. Animals are her passion and I love that about her.

So Saturday morning as I road my bike down Dameron Road and heard the unmistakable cry of a kitten over the barks of three crazy guard dogs, I thought of my sister. It is because of her that I turned my bike around. And when I saw the tiny, frail kitten hunkered down in the tall grass on the edge of the cow pasture, it is because of her that I scooped the kitten up and took her home.

She was skinny, weak and somewhat stiff; obviously cold from being out all night by herself. The fur from the top of her head, down her back to the beginning of her tail was flattened, stiff and crunchy with what looked like chewed pieces of hay. Had she been licked by one of the Angus cows? I wasn’t sure.

All the way home I could hear my sister’s voice. “Just take her to the shelter. They will spay her and put her up for adoption.” And so this was my plan.

Ya. Except I forgot about them.

An hour after I returned home I found myself in the car with the entire family on our way to the vet. His assessment is that she is 5 weeks old, weighs just about a pound, dehydrated, slightly anemic from her flea infestation, has a serious roundworm infection, Coccidia and, most disturbing of all, the pads of her paws are burned and peeling. This would explain the limp and funky walk.

But she is sweet and oh so friendly. Smart, she uses the litter box already, and now that she has had 24 hours of food, antibiotics and dewormer, she is spunky, feisty and kitten crazy. Her name is Lily Tigress (because the kids could not agree on a name) and is now a permanent member of our family

I am my sister’s sister with one huge difference. She has the ability to give up her strays. I, apparently, do not.

Transitions.

2009-08-19T22:11:00.002-05:00

The first day of Kindergarten. A momentous occasion. It’s funny how the majority of us spend the first five years of our children’s lives longing for this very day only to be sad or mystified that the time has gone by so fast.

I have been ready for Andrew to start Kindergarten for awhile now and although we all know he is ready, he has needed some convincing of that. The new, the different, the anticipation of the unknown. These are not his friends. That coupled with mood swings that change with the speed of passing cars can make for meltdowns of epic proportions.

I feel like I have prepared him as much as I could and so I sat on pins and needles this morning waiting to see which mood came thumping down the stairs. To my surprise he was happy as a clam. A happy clam with some very specific ideas on how his first day would start.

He wanted pancakes for breakfast. Pancakes that he would make all by himself because, after all, he is in Kindergarten now and that’s just what Kindergarteners do. He’s certain of it!

He picked out his clothes and dressed himself. Nothing new or out of the ordinary here, with the exception of the long sleeve shirt he chose on this hot and humid mid-August day.

This is what Kindergartener’s wear to school. He is certain of this too. I headed upstairs to pick out a new shirt for him but then had to ask myself; if a long sleeve shirt will get him out the door without Sydney and I carrying him by his limbs, do I really care if I have to treat him for minor heat stroke when we get home? No. Not really.

And as we headed out to begin our walk to school, and he tore out of the garage on his 4-wheeler

I argued that Kindergartener’s usually ride their bicycles or scooters to school. Perhaps he should choose a different mode of transportation. He told me that this Kindergartener is riding his 4-wheeler to school because that’s what he wants to do. So I had to ask myself; if riding the 4-wheeler to school will help him walk through the school doors without causing a scene, do I really care that it may not be sitting out there when I go back to pick him up? No. Not really.

At school we rounded the corner of the blacktop where all the grade school kids are lined up waiting for the doors to open. I retied my running shoes (just in case I needed to make a mad dash out of there) and held my breath as he walked over and got in line.

They walked into the building single file, the door closed behind them and he never looked back. The relief was overwhelming.

And so when the morning came to an end and he appeared in the doorway with this smile on his face,

I realized then that the pancake mess all over the kitchen, the long sleeve shirt on a hot and humid day, and the 4-wheeler that looked very out of place in the bike rack

were independent victories that helped make his transition into Kindergarten that much easier.

Summer’s End.

2009-08-14T10:06:00.001-05:00

As summer rapidly draws to an end, Sydney and Andrew hosted an Ice Cream Social/End of Summer Bash.

There was lots of slipping and sliding…

bouncing…

a little competition…

some cheerleading…

winning celebrations…

a few hundred water balloons…

an assembly line of treats and sweets…

and good friends to share the fun.

Goodbye summer….hello first day of school!!!

Innocence.

2009-08-10T10:06:00.001-05:00

My sister-in-law, Jennifer, had her baby this weekend. Baby Eli.

Hello baby Eli. You are so tiny. So cute. So innocent.

Jennifer is a single mother.

My father-in-law, Will, was in the delivery room when Eli was born. He cut the cord. Sydney saw the pictures during our visit and was in awe.

This is the conversation we had last night as I tucked her into bed:

“Mom? I don’t think Baby Eli looks much like a Kunkel.”

“Well, I think he has Jenni’s nose but we don’t know what his dad looks like so it is really hard to say.” I said.

“What do you mean we don’t know what his dad looks like? I thought Papa Will was his dad?” she asks.

“No, no…Papa Will cannot be his dad. He is Eli’s grandpa just like he is yours.” I correct her. Then I braced myself for an impromptu conversation about the birds and the bees.

Instead she says, “Oh. Well maybe they just have not found a dad for him yet.”

“Exactly!” I say. “Goodnight.”

If Linus’ Had a Twin…

2009-08-03T09:28:00.001-05:00

If Linus had a twin, I’m certain it would be Andrew. He has a blue blanket….just like the one Linus carries. And he too drags it on the ground. I’m sure if one could smell Linus’ blanket, it would smell just like Andrew’s.

Andrew has a name for his blue blanket. Bluemines. Bluemines- a loyal companion, a shoulder to cry on and protection from the monsters hiding under ones bed. A pillow, when there are none to be had and a tent to hide under when you’ve stolen something from your sister. Sometimes a hat, a cape, a belt or even a scarf on cold, rainy days. A bandage for bruised legs and broken collar bones. But never, no never, a blanket for which one uses to keep warm. There are others for that purpose.

Ya, if Linus had a twin….I’m certain it would be Andrew.

First Time Golfers.

2009-07-25T21:29:00.020-05:00

Their dad golfs. So do their Grandpas, some Aunts, Uncles and even one Great Grandmother. Their mother? Not so much.

Today was a first. On a whim we, as a family, decided to try the majority of our hands (and much of Eric's patience) at golfing.

Sydney and Andrew were both eager to swing some clubs and drive the carts. And it was great! Sydney only managed to run Andrew over with the golf cart once!

Starting with the basics, he showed them both how to tee the ball:

Then he gave some lessons on swinging:

"I did what you said Dad so why is the ball still sitting here?" She eventually got the hang of it and before we knew it, was driving the ball about as far as I could.

Andrew, on the other hand, proved to be a much bigger challenge. He is apparently left handed when it comes to golf as well (who knew). That fact coupled with right handed golf clubs meant that he had a cold chance in hell at hitting a ball. I see a set of left handed little man golf clubs in our near future. His version of the story is that he already knows how to golf and does not need anyone to show him. He just did not want to show us at that time. So he busied himself with washing our golf balls at the beginning of every hole

and steering Eric's golf cart in every direction except the direction he needed to go.

Who knew spending two and a half hours chasing little white balls all over God's creation was going to be sooo much fun.

"The Look".

2009-07-18T11:30:00.010-05:00

"The look". We have all pulled "the look" out of our bags at one time or another to use on our husbands, our children or even an annoying salesperson trying to pull the wool over our eyes. I personally have spent a lot of time perfecting "the look" and it was not until I had children that "the look" became an everyday part of my life. An extension of my mind, my hands and my ability to parent from across a crowded room. I was safe in the knowledge that, for at least a few more years, I would be the only one under our roof with the power of "the look". I was mistaken.

During a recent manicure with her Aunt, Sydney was asked if there were any boys in her class that she had a crush on. Her immediate reaction was "NO!" Simple. Straight forward. Instead of using "the look" I simply mentioned the name of a certain someone of the male persuasion that she seems to well, have a crush on. And this is what happened:

First she snorted and laughed that "Oh no you just didn't!" laugh. But then...

She pulled "the look" out of her bag and used it on me! Can we just skip the teenage years?