2007 July

Jul 19, 2007

Flood Friends

As I flipped through the local TV channels today, there was one consistent theme. Across the bottom of the screen for all four-or-so channels ran those helpful weather warnings. Today it’s Flash Flood Warning, with a handy map of all the local counties blinking green, yellow, green, yellow.

I can’t hear the words “flash flood” without remembering something that happened 12 years ago.

It was about 1 a.m. and I groggily realized that the phone was ringing. Back in those days — younger days, thinner days, newlywed days, and most significantly, days before kids — I actually slept well. Unlike now, when the slightest noise catapults me from asleep to awake, I then slumbered peacefully. And all night long, in fact. Amazing.

Anyway, the phone was ringing. Now I’m one of those types who tends to not answer the phone if I’m in the middle of something. If I have a baby on one hip and am stirring the tomato sauce with my free hand and the phone rings…they’ll have to wait. If I’m ~~reading blogs~~ paying the bills and the phone rings…they’ll have to wait. My philosophy is: they can leave a message. If it’s urgent, I’ll hear the message and jump into action. If not, well, we can chat later.

But when the phone rings at 1 a.m., it’s either a very wrong number or an emergency. So my plan was to answer the phone. But I must have slept through the first four rings because by the time I swung my legs off the side of the bed, I heard the answering machine pick up. At that time, we lived in a small 2-bedroom apartment, and although the answering machine was in the other bedroom (read: room for the computer and the futon), I could hear it clearly, since it was really just a couple feet away. And here’s what I heard (after my cheery “leave-a-message” message):

“Katrina! I need you! Katrina? Katrina!!”

I knew the voice. It was my friend, Carrie (names have been changed to protect the innocent people who may or may not like their names broadcast on my blog, just to be safe). And she sounded desperate. I stumbled for the phone and picked up.

Carrie and her husband, John, lived in an apartment much like ours — a small apartment building, housing four or six individual units. Like us, they lived in a semi-basement unit which meant that the front of our apartments were underground, while the backs somehow had doors to the outside. The difference was, Carrie and John’s apartment was in a valley, while ours was not.

That night, they’d gone to bed as usual. It was raining, which was nothing new where we lived. But they awoke sometime after midnight to find that their bedroom had become a swimming pool. Water was up to the mattress, furniture was floating around, and it just kept rising. The rain hadn’t stopped and flash floods were in full effect.

I didn’t need to hear any more. “Come over now.”

And as I prayed for them, I set about rummaging for towels and dry clothes. I converted the futon into a bed and put some sheets on it. I woke Chad to let him know that they’d be coming, and then waited while they made the 15-minute drive to our apartment. Carrie and John arrived, soaked and scared, exhausted but unable to relax. Understandably. We stayed up and talked for a while about what they would do next, what we could do for them. And then we all climbed under our respective covers, though no one got much sleep that night.

In the end, the water had gone up about 5 feet in their apartment. By the time they got in the next morning, the water had gone down, but there was a line of grime along every wall. Furniture was upended and ruined. They had to start over. Chad and I did what we could to help. Insurance helped. There was some FEMA money distributed to those affected by the flood. And they got through it.

If there was more we could have done, we would have. Because they were our friends, and we know they would have done the same for us.

That got me thinking, today. Now, at this stage in my life, who are my “flood friends”? Who could I call at 1 a.m. to say “I need you!”?

In a physical emergency (flood, fire, etc.), I know there are many I could call, many who wouldn’t mind being awakened to take us in and dry us off. But what about emotional emergencies? Who could I call if feelings, emotional pain, trials, or relational tragedies were threatening to drown me? If the things I hold on to were suddenly (or even slightly) upended?

I’m so thankful to be able to say that I have a few precious, treasured friends like that. Friends who would take that call in the middle of the night. Friends who would pray with me, sit with me, cry with me. I’m grateful that God has placed those dear friends in my life.

I hope you have some “flood friends,” too. Maybe we should let some people know that we’d gladly be flood friends for them — that they can call on us anytime and we’ll be there, with a dry towel or a hand to hold.

Filed Under: Friendship 11 Comments

Jul 19, 2007

Bloggy Stuff

written by katrina · Leave a Comment

I’ve been struggling to keep up with my blog-reading this summer. Things just seem a bit hectic, even when we’re home, and I’ve had trouble clearing my mind long enough to sit down and enjoy some bloggy goodness. But I’ve managed to read in bits of time here and there, and I’m glad I have.

Because right now, it seems there is a convergence of several exciting bloggy events. Allow me to share…

First of all, the always-delightful BooMama is hooking up blog readers everywhere with a copy of the upcoming Monk & Neagle CD. The first 100 bloggers (who meet a minimum monthly hits requirement) are eligible to get (and blog about) this CD. And if, by chance, you miss the first 100, click on over anyway, because you can hear several of their songs streaming at the site and they sound really good. Visit BooMama, or click the picture below for more details.

Second, Mary at Owlhaven is holding a lovely carnival tomorrow, asking us to share memories of our childhood homes. Click the adorable button below for more details.

And finally, Shannon over at Rocks in My Dryer has a very exciting Bloggy Giveaway Link-Up Extravaganza coming up next week. Okay, that’s not the official name for it, but you can click the dog to get the whole scoop.

Filed Under: Bloggy Stuff Leave a Comment

Jul 17, 2007

We interrupt this summer schedule…

written by katrina · 18 Comments

I don’t like my schedule to be too full or to be too out-of-whack. I usually have a very clear idea of how I want my day/week/month to go, and when something interferes, I get stressed out. No one would ever use the word spontaneous to describe me. This can be a good thing — after all, my kids like knowing what to expect, so keeping a consistent routine keeps everyone on an even keel and prevents (for the most part) meltdowns. But it can also be a bad thing — it’s easy for me to use this whole schedule obsession as an excuse to not do things, things that I really should make room for in our routine.

Summer, it seems, is a time for schedule upheaval. And while part of me fights that upheaval with all I’ve got, I’m glad that this week, I made an exception.

This week, C.’s taking part in a local golf camp. It’s just a morning thing, every morning this week at a local driving range. And I almost didn’t let him do it.

See, originally, it was scheduled for June. I had written it in the calendar (in pen, I might add) and had made accommodations so that I was prepared for golf camp. Then it was canceled. C. was really bummed. Chad’s not much of a golfer, and I’ve never done more than mini-golf, but C. really wanted to give this a shot (he has a grandmother who is an ~~obsessed~~ avid golfer, and he’s also been enjoying golf on Wii Sports, so golf camp seemed to be the next logical step).

I assured him that we’d think of something. Maybe Chad could take him to the driving range, or maybe Grammy could give him some pointers one day.

Then I got a call telling me that they were going to reschedule golf camp for this week. Well. I didn’t plan on it being this week. This was supposed to be our “down” week. Last week was VBS. Next week, Chad’s taking vacation and we may do some fun and exciting things. So this week was supposed to be our week of relaxing and keeping things low-key. (Do you think I’m nuts yet?) So I almost, almost, said “forget it.”

But, in a rare moment of spontaneity, I decided we’d just go for it. Yes, L. may very well miss his morning nap all week (and if you know me, you know that my children’s sleep schedule is a top priority — when children are well-rested and happy, mommy’s happy). And yes, this would mean several crazy/busy weeks in a row, despite my desire to intersperse calm and quite at-home weeks.

But the rational part of me stepped in and said: Look, Katrina, this is just one week and it’s just in the morning, and C. will love it. Get over your craziness and just do it.

That part of me was right. C.’s loving it.

Yesterday, he spent a good chunk of lunch-time explaining to me how to hold an iron and how to hold a putter.

And today, he practically jumped up and down when I picked him up. He had won a putting contest and received a ticket for a free game of mini golf. That may not seem like much, and sure, I could have just taken him mini-golfing one day. But the fact that he won it by implementing what he’d learned gave him such a sense of accomplishment — a sense of accomplishment that he would have missed out on if I’d allowed my uptight schedule-maintenance side to win.

Now, I’m not saying that I will suddenly become the Queen of Spontaneity. Ha! That would be far too stressful! But I am saying that I hope I’ll be open to schedule interference a bit more. Seeing C.’s pride and excitement is something I wouldn’t have wanted to miss. And I wouldn’t have wanted him to miss it either.

Filed Under: Family 18 Comments

Jul 13, 2007

And now for something shorter

written by katrina · 23 Comments

If you’ve read my posts the last two days, thank you. I realize they were overly-long and quite rambling in style, so I appreciate your commitment. Today, I thought I’d write something that was highly funny or inspiring or informative, while at the same time being short and pithy.

But I’m drawing a blank.

So instead, I’ll say, have you heard about this show? It’s called Kid Nation and will be on CBS this fall. Here’s what the website says:

40 children,
40 days,
No adults. Can they do it?
Can they build a better world than grown-ups?

The general idea is that they’re taking a bunch of kids (aged 8-15) and dumping them in some deserted town in New Mexico, and seeing what happens. They’re supposed to “build their own new world, pioneer-style.” Without adults to intervene or, you know, maintain order.

My initial response was, Hello? Did the creators of this show ever read Lord of the Flies? Or at least see the movie? And did that not convince them that a society run entirely by kids is generally not a good idea?

I was comforted only by the fact that surely there will be grown-ups manning the video cameras and hosting the whole ~~insanity~~ show, and the mere presence of adults would hopefully be enough to convince the kids to reign in their anarchic and/or primal tendencies.

But then I saw that at the end of each episode, one child will be awarded a “gold star” worth about $20,000. So perhaps that will motivate them to stay in line, too. The kids in Lord of the Flies didn’t have that handy monetary incentive.

Filed Under: Purely Random 23 Comments

Jul 12, 2007

Waste Not….Eat Not

written by katrina · 15 Comments

I know I’ve mentioned before (at least once or twice) that C. has a very hard time parting with… well, just about everything. Everything from already-read National Geographic Kids magazines to paperclips that have been unbent and rebent into various shapes and then left to languish under his bed. He’s just sure that every single time we throw something out, it’s wasteful. After all, those things might come in handy someday.

This drives Chad a little nuts. He likes things to be uncluttered and sparse, and when you save every little item imaginable, it’s a little hard to keep things looking empty, as Chad would prefer.

(Case in point: last week, I did some decluttering in the dining room. Chad’s comment: “This looks great!” C.’s comment: “Everything looks so abandoned now.”)

For the most part, we resolve this conflict my limiting C.’s “collections” to his bedroom. And Chad just closes his eyes when he walks past the room of much stuff.

BUT.

Last night, Chad confirmed my suspicion that he and C. are not quite as different as he might think.

Yes, Chad likes empty tables and spartan countertops, and yes, he’s the first one to volunteer to help when I say, “I just can’t bring myself to throw this away.” But when it comes to a certain area of the house, he is suddenly the king of, “Hey — you can’t throw that away! That would be wasteful!”

And just what is that area of the house? That would be the refrigerator.

I do my best to ~~force~~ encourage my family to consume all food items before they reach their expiration date, but sometimes it just doesn’t happen. A yogurt gets lost on the back of a shelf, only to be discovered a week or so after its prime. Salad dressing stays around a teeny bit too long. And sometimes I just can’t eat all the spinach before the date stamped on the corner of the bag.

But if I so much as take one step toward the garbage can with something from the fridge when Chad’s around, he immediately leaps between me and the garbage, intervening on behalf of the food. “Don’t throw that out! I’ll eat it.” And because I’m ~~tired of fighting about it~~ a good, submissive wife, I hand it over. And he eats it. He assures me that those expiration dates are just put on there to make the lawyers happy and that the food is good for quite a while longer than the date implies. And he really thinks it’s wrong to waste that food by throwing it away when it’s perfectly fine.

Maybe. But still, I’ve learned to do my fridge-cleaning when he’s not around. After all, I’m not really interested in Emergency Room visits or cleaning up the results of food poisoning.

Last night, however, I slipped up. It was a pasta-and-meatballs kind of night and I was rummaging for a wedge of Parmesan to grate over the top of our meals. I found one, all right. And I cringe when I tell you that it was from 2006. Clearly, I had not thoroughly cleaned out the cheese-and-sundry-deli-products drawer in a while. And then — silly me — instead of stealthily slipping it under my shirt and tiptoeing over to the garbage can, I announced the error of my ways — allowing this cheese to go undetected and undisposed-of for so long — and…you guessed it. Chad jumped to the Parm’s rescue.

I begged. I pleaded. I implored him to just let me throw it away. I found another wedge — a fresh, unexpired one — and tried to make a trade. But he’s stubborn. And he was determined to give the poor old abandoned Parmesan a fair shake.

I blame this all on Alton Brown and his show, Good Eats. Chad apparently watched some episode that talked about how wonderful Parmesan is and how “the more aged the better.” I tried to explain that I was pretty sure “sitting in the bottom of our fridge” is not the equivalent of “aging” when it comes to cheese. But he would not be dissuaded.

He tried grating it over his pasta with my favorite Microplane grater. He tried cutting chunks of it off. It was, to say the least, rather brick-like.

In the end, he stuck it in the microwave in an attempt to soften it up, gnawed off some of the partially-melted-brick-like portion of it, and then — finally! — tossed the rest. He had met his match.

So while C. may hold on to things like 2-inch fragments of yarn, pipe cleaners that have lost half of their fuzz (or whatever that stuff’s called), and scraps of aluminum foil, Chad has his share of issues too — they just come in the form of expired grocery items. Both of them need some gentle nudges to just let go a little.

Filed Under: Family, Fun 15 Comments