Socks or Sanity

We have currently taken on the task of matching all of the socks in the house to their correct mate. This may seem like a very simple task, but for some reason it is not!! I really have enjoyed, and thought that it worked rather well, our method of just putting all the socks (that don’t have matches) in a “Sock Bin”. All was going quite well until the socks could no longer fit into the sock bin and I was looking for other locations for the mismatched socks. Also, I got tired of my kids saying that they did not have any socks. I have probably spent over 500 dollars on socks and thousands of hours finding their mates (this year). Has no one come up with a way to keep socks together? With technology these days has no one come up with anything? Maybe even something like the clapper might work?

So my husband, of course, is full throttle on this project, he has never really supported the “Sock Bin”. We have hunted the house, done batch after batch of laundry, to no avail. We still have a bin full of mismated socks. Steve is going to throw them away, but I feel that he may be doing a premature throw away. I still feel that there are socks out there…. Somewhere, plus I think I may have some hoarding tendencies. Where do socks go? Is there somewhere they can get stuck in the washer? Are my kids coming home from friend’s houses with only one sock? Is it a sick game that someone plays on moms?

I will continue my search for socks, and of course I will continue matching what I can, but I have to tell you, I feel my sanity slowly slipping from me in the process. I have begun talking to the missing socks, “Where are you hiding?” “Did you slip down here?” “I can see you back there”.
And really if you think about it, does it really matter if you have matching socks, are there sock police? Is it really that embarrassing to have two different color socks on? Do people question your sanity, your intelligence, your mothering skills if you or your children are sporting mismatched socks? I think that it would show that you are frugal, worried about your children’s toes, and have a saucy style for fashion

SPUDMAN

We have once again signed up for the Burley Idaho “SPUDMAN”, now if we all can remember from last year, that my marriage took some rocky turns when Steve and I decided to train together biking. Being yelled at while clipped onto the death trap (bike), trying to shift, break and steer over rocks and cracks and cars is almost more than I could take. But once again we have thrown caution to the wind and put our names in for the exciting challenge of swimming, biking and running with hundreds of other people, in Burley, Idaho.

I am looking forward to the motivational “yelling” that I will received from my husband, and hopefully will not sustain any serious injury from falling off the bike again. But realistic thinking, just hoping that when I do fall, I can angle myself over a large bush or something slightly softer than the asphalt.

To begin our training Steve feels that we need to do “sprints” which we began last night, I purposely wore my headphones so to not hear any unsavory language (not from Steve, but that which would come from my own mouth). And so the training begins…….

A Little History

We went to see Valkerie with some friends, Great Show!! Wow, even knowing how the show would turn out, I was on the edge of my seat the entire time and rooting for the good guy to win! But as we all know, he did not. But the show also made me start thinking about some of my ancestors, my Grandpa was a Jew and his mother was a Russian Jew that was smuggled out of Russia with another family during the reign of Stalin (who killed probably just as many people as Hitler), came to New York via ship, then married and had three children only to have her husband die. Due to some desperate times, she then put all three children into an orphanage. Now this is were the story gets really good, my Great Grandmother then remarried, not daring to tell her new husband that she had three children at an orphanage. She told him that she had two; they went and retrieved the two children leaving my Grandpa at the orphanage. I am not sure of the time frame, but the new husband eventually found out about the additional child that was still at the orphanage and promptly went to get my Grandpa as well. Soon after all three children were back with my Great Great Grandmother, the orphanage burnt to the ground, leaving no records or any information whatsoever as to whom the three orphaned children’s real father was, and my Great Great Grandmother never spoke of him.

I remember my Grandpa, even though he died very young, I remember how he would cut my French toast, how he would tickle us when we would get in bed. He collected wine bottles and they were the prettiest things I had ever seen, and he was a Jew and had a ring (that my mom currently has) that had all the symbols of the Masons. My grandmother searched and searched for information on his biological father and that bloodline with no avail. But I am very thankful for those who risked their lives to smuggle a Jewish girl out of Russia, and am thankful for a good man that happens to be my Great Great Grandpa.

Go see the show; it is one of those films that will stick with you.

I can also recommend "Forever Strong" (at Kaysville) very good show, and I just finished reading "Marley and Me", great read, not just for those of you who have dogs.