Frills, Dirt, and Unemployment

So once again my husband is unemployed and we're in the process of picking up the pieces. It's a good thing, really, having been working in an extremely unhealthy environment. While in the long run this will be a blessing to both him and our family, in the short run ... well, our wallet is is suffering from malnutrition. Thankfully Don has a pretty good job situation lined up -- it's just a matter now of ironing out the details and then signing on the bottom line. In the meantime, the kids are thrilled that Daddy's home, kind of like an extended vacation. It's a little hard for me to look at the "fun" in it all, but I've been trying. First things first, though -- tackling unemployment. It took Don three days to get through (a friend of his told him they make it purposefully hard, in his opinion, to get anywhere, hoping that you'll give up before you get any money). On the third day, he finally got an agent and asked her (strongly) that she not disconnect him like the other agents did. After a very lengthy discussion, he ended up qualifying for it -- phew. But then she said something that just ... well, made me laugh: Don will be eligible to collect next month. Ummm ... hello? In a month? We have two little kids to provide for and no income ... a month? "We're very sorry, sir ... policy ..."

Time for a diversion. We popped the kids in the car and drove to the Hudson River to take in the sights of "Nick Wert City" (as Aidan calls it, and I can't bear to correct him because of the cuteness of it all). I guess our kids had enough of government idiocy too -- just take a look at Grace and you'll instantly know what kind of day we had.
Our "vacation week" continued with a few fun things to do each day ... a nature walk (with Grace out of the stroller -- a leap of faith on our part, fearing a reckless move like crashing through the forest), Aidan's first "big boy" birthday party invitation, for which I was expressly instructed, "Mommy, do not get out of the car; do not follow me into the house!" And we had an interesting day with Grace yesterday, who decided to show some true colors during her outdoor play. On a whim I dressed her in one of the cutest girly outfits that she has (on loan from my cousin) -- a white denim mini-skirt (with pink knit undershorts), trimmed with layers of pink satin, white lace, and eyelet. Very, very sweet ... but on Grace I was just asking for an extra load of laundry. After the morning ritual of dressing, brushing teeth, etc. she headed outside and faced a choice: does she turn right toward the playhouse and her dolls, or does she veer left toward the designated dirt pile where her big brother was playing with Monster Trucks and a dirt bike? My sweet, darling lace-bedecked girl ran without hesitation toward the dirt, picked up a Monster Truck, and had a ball. Within minutes she tired of driving the truck around and decided, I guess, to mimic the sparrows who visit our flower beds (and dirt pile) to flail around in their dust baths. Grace twisted and turned in the dirt, on her belly, on her frilly behind, until she was covered. It was unbelievable. Now, I was a tomboy growing up, the only girl in the midst of three boys, so I know all about trucks and dirt bikes and the joys of dirt piles. But Grace ... she puts me to shame. There's really no other sight to behold than a cherub-faced, pink-and-white clothed girl writhing gleefully in the dirt, singing "Rise, and Shine, and Give God the Glory, Glory" at the top of her little voice ...

Click on the picture below for a close-up of her lovely behind. Thank goodness tomorrow is wash day ...