I'm just a girl who cain't say no

It's true. I have trouble turning anyone down. (Dave says he's the only one I can say no to.)

If you knock on my door to sell me a $100 bottle of all-purpose cleaner... well, then, you came to the right place!!

And without caller I.D. I probably would have bought at least 6 timeshares by now. 

So you can imagine how hard it would be for me to turn down a telemarketer's request to send money to a cancer charity, right before Christmas. I usually don't answer the phone if it's obviously someone I don't know. But this number called and called and called. When I did finally answer they would ask for Dave, and when I told them he wasn't home, they would say "Just tell him ____ called, and I'll call back." Mmmmmkay. Finally I just wanted them off my back and I told them that this was his wife and asked if I could handle whatever they were calling about (I'm a genius for finally asking that after only a million phone calls!).

Turns out, the caller was trying to raise money for a children's cancer fund, that we have actually donated to in the past. Of course, my attitude softened at that, and even though I was SO frustrated with their tactics, I still agreed to send money. And when I told Dave about that, his head almost exploded. (He is very charitable, but he was equally as frustrated with the never-ending mystery phone calls, and would have preferred to give in another way.)

They wanted me to pay them right over the phone with a credit card. I told them I was not comfortable with that, and that I would send a check. So she stressed at least twice that I needed to send the payment as soon as I got the pledge envelope and asked me if I was really committing to it. I didn't like the high pressure, but I agreed.

Anyway, I did a little research on this fundraiser, and found reports stating that less than 1% of donations to this group actually go to cancer patients. Another article said 17%, which is better, but still not impressive.

So my point in writing this is simply to suggest that everyone look into the "charities" they are approached by before sending money. I am all for sharing with organizations that are honest and where the higher-ups have their hearts in the right place. But when so much of what you give goes to administrative costs and founders' salaries, it seems to me like they are making a business and a profit out of others' suffering, and playing on the givers' emotions and desires to really help. There are lots of organizations out there that are really doing good, so just be choosy! I know I will from now on!

If you know of any worthy charities, let me (us... anyone reading this) know in the comments.

I'm growing up

In my crazy, stressful dreams when I realize I've been skipping class all semester and I'm not going to pass my class, and therefore will not graduate with my peers...

I'm finally out of high school!

I now dream about skipping college classes. This is progress. 

Thank a Soldier cards

You know how I always want to thank soldiers when I see them, but I don't have the guts? I have a solution.

I made "Thank a Soldier" cards. They're like pass-along cards, made to give a little thank you to service men and women when you come across them.

There's a little space in the bottom to sign your name or your family's name, or to write a very small note.

I will keep one or two in my wallet with me, so I can pass them along when the opportunity arises. (Or have my son do it.)  :)

I made a sheet of 10 cards, saved as a PDF, that I would be glad to send to anyone who wants it. E-mail me at goodfrau@gmail.com if you'd like the file.

What did he give me?

A couple months ago I was at the post office with my 3-year-old. Behind us in line was a soldier in uniform, and my son was very interested in him.

We were leaving the post office at the same time as this man, and he could see that my son was interested in him and his uniform. He stopped to say hi and "give me five!"

For some reason I am always too shy to thank a soldier in uniform, even though I think I should every time I see one (which happens a lot, because we live near a military base). But I didn't want to let the opportunity pass, so I asked my son to "Tell him thank you." It was my passive way to get the message to this man without having to say it directly to him myself (which I know is silly, but it's true).

When I asked my son to "tell him thank you," he looked up at me confused and said, "What did he give me?"

I almost started crying right there in the post office, as I considered the question and how I would answer it. I told him I would explain in the car (so I wouldn't cry in front of all the other post office patrons).

In my life, I have been fairly disconnected from the reality of the military and the sacrifices that people make. My father was in the Army before I was born, and I've always been proud of that. Many of my uncles have served in the military, some fighting in wars. I know those stories, but they happened a long time before I was born. So I can honestly say that my son's question, "What did he give me?" made me feel feelings of gratitude for those men and women in a way I hadn't before.

When we got to the car I told him something along the lines of, "We want to thank that man because he keeps us safe, and sometimes he's not safe while he's keeping us safe."

I thought about the courage it would take to know that someday you might have to go to a dangerous place where you might have your life on the line. I thought about wives and children, mothers and fathers who say goodbye, hoping and praying for their loved one's safe return. I've never been a part of that group, and I am so thankful for all of those people.

In defense of the Ice Cream Man

One of my good friends posted on Facebook yesterday that the Ice Cream Man came through the neighborhood around 9 p.m., and wondered if other people thought that was strange.

Not me. I grew up in the town she lives in now, and I remember waiting on the curb until sundown with my neighbor friends, wishing and hoping that the ice cream man would come by so I could buy an orange push-up with the money I'd saved going door to door, selling stickers or a tap dance performance.

To me, 9 p.m. seems like a perfectly acceptable time for the Ice Cream Man to make his final round.

Of course, my son has a couple good hours left in him at 9 p.m., although I know many kids are in bed by then. But I say, if the sun is still shining, the Ice Cream Man is welcome on my street.

But my friend's friends were all quick to post that they thought it was creepy for him to be there at 9, and that being an Ice Cream Man is creepy in general.

Say what?!

My husband and I are advocates for our son's safety, to the point that some people think we are overprotective. But I'm not the least bit leery of the Ice Cream Man.

First of all, he is not sneaking up on anyone, and he is making everyone fully aware of his presence as he plays his happy tunes through the neighborhood. Secondly, he would have to be incredibly stupid to do anything bad while he's driving a giant music box with ice cream cones painted on the side.

I guess it just makes me sad that something that is meant to be fun and bring joy and fun memories is written off as "creepy." I know there are bad people in the world, and I know we have to be careful and teach our kids to be careful. But I don't want my child to internalize that people he doesn't know are suspicious or scary, and I especially don't want him to think that things that seem joyful are inherently suspicious.

So what's the balance? I'm not sure. Of course I want to keep my child safe always and teach him what he needs to know to be smart about these kinds of things. But I don't think that means that we run and hide from things and people that are unfamiliar. What do you think?

The most expensive vacation we've ever taken

We took advantage of the long weekend by taking a trip to Yellowstone. We had already considered it when my sister-in-law called and invited us to spend the weekend at their aunt and uncle's cabin in Island Park. We were excited because that meant we could take our little vacation and we had free lodging.

We drove up Friday after Dave got home from work. The car got great gas mileage all weekend as we drove all around the park, stopping to see bears (10 total), a moose, lots of elk and bison and a coyote.

We only paid for one meal the entire time we were there because Dave's aunt Teresa kept us full on home-cooking.

Sounds like a pretty cheap vacation so far, right?

But on the way out of the park for the last time, I glanced down and saw that the main diamond from my wedding set was gone. All gone.

So if you ever find a princess-cut diamond in Yellowstone (maybe near Old Faithful?), CALL ME.



ETA: I forgot to mention that Dave went back into the park and searched every place we had stopped that day. He knew it was a long shot, but he couldn't leave without trying. Sweet, huh?

Patience, young grasshopper

I just saw the funniest conversation on Facebook, and I need to share. The originator is my second cousin, and I'm not sure how old she is, but apparently she hasn't graduated from the sixth grade yet.

(Cousin): wants a phone soooooooo bad!!!!!!! MOM PLEASSSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEEE CAN I HAVE A PHONE??!!!!

(Friend 1) girl, i didnt get mine til the day after I graduated from 6th grade..patience, young grasshopper(:

(Friend 2) I didn't get mine until the day before 8th grade. I win. Btw, the longer the wait, possibly the better phone! :)

A great cat massage tutorial!

I found this (via the Glamour Shots carnival) on Keeping Up With Mom.

This is for all you cat lovers out there. Don't forget to use your right hand or your left hand or both hands.

Glamour!

If you don't already know Kristina, it's about time you check out her blog. Right now she's hosting a Glamour Shots carnival, and I thought that would be a fun thing to participate in.

I don't have an official "Glamour" shot, but I do have this!

This was one of my senior pictures that all the grownups in my life loved, and I hated. It just didn't look like me to me. I would have never made that "come hither" face or posed like that, and certainly not in a hooded sweatshirt. But it was my parents' favorite, so it has been prominently displayed ever since.


However, now that I am 11 years removed from this photo shoot, I actually like this picture! Isn't that backwards? Aren't you supposed to love these when you first get them, and then be completely embarrassed by them in the years to come?

Expert advice

I was thinking this morning about my blog post about chicken coops, and especially the part where I touted a belief in following my own instincts when it comes to parenting and running a household in general. I wrote about how I rarely consult the experts.

I realized that I had given myself a little (or maybe a lot) too much credit. There is one expert that I consult quite frequently.

This is my mom.

You may also call her Nurse Jacque or TechnoMom.

I rely on her a lot. She is always my first call when my son is running a fever and I need some guidance or just a little comfort.

She recognizes when I'm being silly about something and helps me be smart, without making me feel like I was being silly in the first place. 

She's my official Weight Watchers buddy. (She's lost more than 35 pounds, and she's still going strong.)

She's really smart with computers and her Farkle score is unbeatable.

She's an expert seamstress and a wonderful cook.

She's genuine, and brave enough to reach out to people. She's a wonderful example of friendship and caring.

She has molded the way I feel about being a mother. She has always been a very tender mother and grandmother. She is very nurturing and empathetic.

And maybe that's the reason I don't feel the need to consult the other experts. If I can raise my children to know that they are loved and capable, the way that she and my dad did, I will be happy.

But I'm sure I'll have some more questions along the way.