Monday, June 30, 2008
Eight things I say alot:
Now that's funny right there
Did you feed the animals yet?
Get off me
Are you listening to me?
I love you
Gimme a hug
Where's my phone? WHERE is my PHONE? HEY! Where's my phone? Anybody??
Eight books/mags I have Read Lately:
For Women Only
The Five Love Languages of Children
Life in the Blender
Don't Stop Laughing Now
Green Eggs and Ham
Country Woman Magazine
Hobby Farms Magazine
Eight Movies I have seen 8 times:
Pirates of the Caribbean I
Pirates of the Caribbean II
Pirates of the Caribbean III
Ice Age the Meltdown
50 First Dates
You've Got Mail
Eight Thing I Am Working On:
Getting the pool set up
Arranging our vacation plans
Having a mental breakdown
My daughter's 10th Birthday
A new budget
A second chicken coop
Eight People I Invite To Do This:
Since everyone has already been tagged, I will tag YOU if you haven't done this yet!
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Today I opened the front door with a flourish, to let hot air escape and draw the cool air through the house (dang, it was HOT today!). Well, I forgot all about Momma bird, and when she got done freaking out and flying away, I thought it would be a good time to go see the progress. Well, by golly gee whiz those little pink blobs are BABIES! There were 2 babies that hatched, and one more egg is left. I was SO impressed!
Sorry about the really crappy picture but I was on a time crunch here!
I think it's WAY cool that I could identify different feathers from FOUR of my own hens lining the nest for these babies. We share around here - it's how we roll. The birds in turn, share their poop all over my porch.
Notice the handy dandy Avon mirror propped above the nest looking down? I'm so smart I continually amaze myself. This was the best pic I could take with only 4 seconds to work with and my hands were shaking because I just knew that mirror was going to flop down and whack those little babies and then I'd get my eyes pecked out. But all was well, I quickly took a few shots, and skittered back off into the house and left things alone so the momma could come back. Oh - the noise we'll be hearing for the next week when those little peepers find their lungs and their appetites!
Nothin like a science lab on your own front porch.
In other news, my in-laws are here for a week, so if you don't hear much well that is why. I'm probably busy making cobbler, canning preserves or baking a cheesecake. Yeah right, as I've said before somewhere recently -
Don't kid yourself people!
I'll be out in the yard nailing my nephews with the super soaker! (As it dribbles all down my pantleg and makes it appear as if I've laughed way too hard)
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
I posted this WFW today for my girls. One is off at church camp this week, and the other is going next week. It's hard sometimes to remember that God is right there when you seek Him. We can't seek Him with half a heart, because we will not find Him - our own "things" will continue to get in the way. We must seek Him with ALL our heart - for only then will we find Him!
I pray that my two young daughters, who both accepted Christ as their savior just last year (one after a week at camp and the other one on Father's Day) will grow up to be constant seekers of God. My heart swells when I think of them humbling their little souls and bending to follow the Word.
Happy Word Filled Wednesday!
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
We had a hard time keeping people out of our room.
It's all their fault.
Technically it's called a Roller Rocker and the guy who gave us the tour put one of these shiny doodads in a machine (the kind made to remove tattoos, I think) and the bright blue laser etched my very own name and the date on the side of it. I have my own roller rocker! Aren't you all impressed? (Sorry, I didn't take a picture of the real one, but that one was just like it and I hoped you wouldn't notice)
I'm spoiled. Nobody else got anything better than a hat or a sticker.
I also didn't have time to blog because I was too busy being taken out to eat at really cool places like Red's Old 395 Grill in Carson City. This place is THE bomb. It's cool looking too. And, it's world famous. They said so and that means it's a fact.
And it has really cool seating. Who wouldn't like to sit on furniture that their burger came from?
Fry bread was never on my menu before, but it is now.
Heck, we were full before the meal actually showed up.Then, we had to try to shove as much of our meal down into our gizzards as we could before they offered us dessert. Which, I might add, we politely declined.
Those were pickled carrots in that photo.
Too bad I don't like onions. Or onion strings. By the pound.
The gastrointestinal distress was felt by all.
One of the other reasons I didn't get a chance to blog was because we did entirely too much goofing off. As if it wasn't immature enough to play in the children's arcade at the casino, we made it a point to earn a bazillion tickets so we could win these fantastic little monkeys. Then, while waiting for yet another meal to arrive, the monkeys tried to model for us. It was rediculous hilarity at its finest. You can see what else the monkeys did on the adult monkey site. This is a family place for crying out loud.
After pizza and much more goofing off... it was time for some planned fun. (All the rest was purely accidental) Our chosen method of "fun" year after year is the Driving Range (over a lake) at the Grand Sierra.The reason we call it fun, is because nobody we take along (including ourselves) is ever very good at golf (except for the well-muscled Marine in the photo above) so we just do more goofing off and laughing at each other until we tire of repeated bathroom breaks. We had so much fun this time, that we did the same trip 2 nights in a row. It was either that, or gamble, and gambling isn't fun (if you're losing), nor is it very good exercise (if you're losing, but if you were winning you might jump up and down), and it's not cheap either. I think we made a wise choice.
After four days and miles of tours, plus an encyclopedia of car facts from the National Automobile Museum, 2 swollen ankles and 97 fattening meals we packed up and headed north. I hadn't got to do any serious blogging yet, but I still had time.
The trip home started out at a normal time.
But then I remembered I wanted to go to Cabela's. I HAD to go. It wasn't an option.
militia military men who went along with us didn't argue much at all. Matter of fact we had to pull them out of the place by their ears. This delayed our trip by at least an hour, and delayed my blogging even further (but I did get a cool new pair of shoes).
We saw lots of sights on the way home. Since I'm prone to taking many pictures of farms, and barns and such, I was not bored. But this prevented me from blogging. Evidently I like flat land too.
Anyway, thanks for missing me! I'm happy to be back home where I can blog
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
I was given this verse by my husband recently as it is one of his favorites. I find it very interesting how much "his" verses are different from "mine". The verses that inspire him have a much stronger tone and are quite blunt and to the point! I like that!
This afternoon, as I sit in my tastefully decorated hotel room overlooking the strip in Reno, I find this verse means a lot more to me than usual. Every where you go in this town there are HUGE reminders that people do not know God. I was talking to a new friend today and we had a discussion about "finding Jesus". I don't know about you, but my Jesus is everywhere I go. I have never felt like I had to FIND Him, because I'm the only one that was ever lost - He was here all along. Even driving by the porn shops and topless bars I know that Jesus is here. He is very sad at what He sees - but he is here. I am glad to be able to spend a little time in the outside world to help me remember that there are many lost people out there - they can't be any worse off, so why not take a chance and say something to someone who could use some encouragement? Who cares if they hate you for it?
May God smile on you today!
Monday, June 16, 2008
Today, as I was packing clothes for six people to go three different directions this coming week, I kept hearing that same phrase. Even though all the whites were washed, nobody seemed to have enough socks for a week. All my family members have different methods for overcoming this temporary obstacle. Temporary, because if I can't find socks, I just buy more. Somewhere, something rodent-like is probably really cozy in a little corner with 89 socks and fourteen pairs of little boys underwear. I just can't imagine why I can't find all those socks and underwear - you think they'd be stinkin' to high heaven about now.
I found one sock under the wood box by the stove today. Another four pairs of the mismatched variety turned up in the mudroom between flip flops, boots and school stuff that got dumped there last week. Three socks crawled out from under my son's mattress and then I found one of my husband's socks stuck in my dress pants this morning when I was getting ready for church. The good part is that I found a movie I was missing when I was hunting for little foot warmers, and I also came across the headphones for my mp3 player. Hey, a successful hunt!
My eldest daughter has a solution to her sock problem... at least it's a solution for her. She can't find a matching pair? She just makes a "coordinating" pair. Today she was wearing two different colors of stripes. I almost thought they matched there for a second and I about passed out from shock. But no - one was a wide striped blue, the other, a narrow striped green. Then I spotted another sock sticking out from under the couch - it was a wide striped blue. One pair of her socks sports a little monkey with underpants on his head saying, "Be Different". I suppose she takes that wisdom to heart. You'd never catch me wearing different color stripes. Or underwear on my head. At least not that I would admit to you.
My youngest has his own method too. He can't find socks? He just digs around in his brothers drawer. He does that when he runs out of underwear too. Hmmm... kinda makes me wish I had a sister sometimes to swipe socks from. (But not underwear). That must be what my younger daughter thinks too - because since all her sister's socks don't match (and she wouldn't be caught dead wearing anything that didn't match) she has decided that mine fit her pretty well. And they always match. And they're always clean. After they get washed anyway.
So, tonight as I sit here listening to the crickets chirping in the warm night air, and the soft sounds of my children breathing (actually, the crickets are in the tank with the gecko - singing their last songs ever, and my children are all camped out on the living room floor snoring - so they would get a chance to say goodbye when Mr. Nice Guy and I leave for Nevada in the morning) I wonder what our world would be like without socks. I kind of figure that more things would be lost forever if we didn't have socks to look for - it's the only time I find all my other missing stuff!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
The inspiration for this verse came to me when one of my best friends was going through a tough few days. She's not the only one that has hard days - we all do. So simply putting words like this onto an image helps me tuck the words of God into my heart for when I really need them. The photo is the sunset behind our property. It is always so amazing to me how differently God paints his pictures from day to day. We're so blessed to visit the art gallery of the most famous artist of all time whenever we want!
Have an encouraging Wednesday!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
My first recollection of a real injury was when I was five years old. I think. I know my Mom will comment if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure I was heading in to first grade that fall, so that would make me five. My brother and I played outside for hours. That's what we did. It was our job as children to see to it that all the dirt in the back yard was stuck to our bodies before it was time to come in at night. It seemed normal enough to me. Strange though, because my kids, they think I am torturing them when I throw them out the back door on a sunny day.
Anyway, one day we were playing in the front yard. Yes, the yard by the street. And the yard wasn't fully fenced either. But we are still alive to tell about it. My brother took me to the tree closest to the street - it was a cherry tree, (one that is still sorely missed from when they took it out to widen the road and add a sidewalk about 20 years later.) So up in this tree, he pointed at something. I could not see what he was talking about, but he mentioned the word "spider" and I still couldn't see it. Evidently he was really impressed by the size, because he kept pointing and wanting me to take a look at it. Mind you he was only 3 or so at the time, so maybe he wasn't speaking clearly. His L's and R's are just now coming around. So, being the curious sort, we gathered up this tallish bench type thing and set it under the tree so I could get a "closer look" at this spider. Some other day, I'll write about my dreams of becoming and entomologist, but for now, lets just say that bugs didn't bother me. Not one bit. At least that's what I'm going to say.
I remember climbing up on the wobbly bench. Benches, no matter how sturdy, are always wobbly when set upon tree roots and grass. Keep that in mind. And girls who aren't graceful are always wobbly anyway. That makes for a bad combination. I don't exactly recall if it was from stepping up onto a branch and breaking it or from slipping off of one, but when I fell it was quite a show. I sometimes wondered if anyone was driving by at the time. They would have seen a little girl, with long blonde hair, come flying out of a cherry tree. They would have seen a three year old standing there looking aghast. And then they would have seen a mother stand up straight in the garden, perk her ears up, and then move really quickly toward the little girl, who by then had picked herself off the ground and was wandering around trying to figure out what had happened.
I remember a lot of what happened that day, but the worst part was having to be put under anesthesia. There was some concern about my wrist being broken near the growth plate and all that, and out of kindness they let me sleep while they set it. Bless their hearts. Whoever they are. I did not care at all for the strange word "traction", but evidently it did the job.
A couple of years later, in a neighboring tree full of
The ride to the hospital was eventful, but I don't recall much of the aftermath. I do, however, remember missing swimming because of the monstrous cast that had to cover the broken wrist and the greenstick fracture in my elbow. I do remember getting pretty good at using scissors with my left hand during Vacation Bible School and even writing pretty good. I can still deal cards better with my left hand than my right. Not that my parents had me doing lots of dealing or anything. I don't want to give the wrong impression here.
My middle school years were full of sprained ankles, torn ligaments from playing basketball, air casts and ace wraps. I even got to wear big square
Some people still believe that I broke my arm again when I got tossed from that horse at Bake's little farm, but it didn't really happen like that. It was only a bad sprain. I didn't break my arm again until High School. It happened at church camp, because I like to get lots of attention when I'm at camp. I think that was the year AFTER I jumped on the basketball and sprained my ankle yet again. Ever since that year, I've been banned by EVERYONE from sleeping on top bunks. Don't ask how you break your arm in the middle of the night while you're sleeping. It can happen, it really can.
Sometime after High School, my injuries began to be less frequent. I think it was the fact that an uninsured college student or young married person is assisted by more angels. Maybe it's because all things daring come to a screeching halt when you're studying for midterms (although I did have quite a nasty incident with a brand new three ring binder and my finger). Either way, I only had minor injuries for several years. Then I figured out why. I was saving up for childbirth and what was to come after that.
My firstborn gave me 8 months of hurling everything I ate, smelled or even looked at. I would have taken a broken arm anyday. Her birth wasn't much better - many hours of DO NOT PUSH YET!!! would have been solved by a sprained ankle. Healing from the emergency C-Section was challenging (they were having a contest that week - and exclaimed that it only took 4 minutes to get in and get that baby out and the scars proved it.) This was followed up by another surgery about 5 months later to remove my gall bladder that had evidently been injured by pregnancy. Having appendicitis not too long ago made me rethink my plans of wishing for illness instead of injury too.
After another three kids, and another C-section, I went back to my old tricks of inflicting injuries on myself without having to get cozy with my husband first. Matter of fact, I think I started in early, because I was pregant with my littlest runt when I took a flying leap down the stairs at the college after one of my classes. Believing I had paralyzed myself, it took four guys (including my husband) to get me picked up and into a minvan for the ride to the hospital. The x-rays were grueling, as they had to straighten out my crushed kneecaps to tell me that nothing was actually broken.
I think my son was just a baby when I tossed myself off the front porch steps. The bulge from my smashed shin bone still bothers me as I type. But after we got home from that trip to the hospital, my husband increased my life insurance.
Taking a flight of stairs on your backside in the middle of the night isn't the best amusement ride either. That hurt my tailbone for weeks.
I had a little relief from visiting the doctor for awhile. Matter of fact I was into a regular exercise routine, walking around the neighborhood, feeling great and dropping pounds happily, when we were in our car accident. I got mad at that one, because I didn't even do it myself. And then I couldn't take a walk around the neighborhood for months. Now we all know where the Back Acher title came from too.
Sometime after we moved back here, to the relative peace and safety of "the farm", the injuries began again. Somehow, between running back and forth to free our stupid goat from the fence, I found a stick. Or the stick found me. It found me right through the bottom of my shoe and into my foot. That trip to the doctor was a bit humiliating, but it felt better than my father in law yanking the stick out with pliers. *shudder* It also felt better than taking the dog for a walk while we were camping, fighting off a raccoon and finding myself with a finger going the wrong direction. I put my finger back and trotted off to the hospital again. Seven weeks later, we realized my busted finger didn't want to straighten up, so it's either live with it, or surgery. I'm currently living with it - but wishing I had got it fixed last year. It's hard to play piano with a 2 o'clock finger.
I often wonder how I'll leave this world. Will I be climbing a tree in my old, dementia affected age? Will I be run over by a tractor while helping build fence? Either way, I just know it will be while I'm doing something I enjoy. I hope everyone gets a little peace and a little laugh out of it.
Somehow I forgot to tell the story about breaking my fingertip in the garage door or burning my hand while making breakfast, or my strange genetic disease but you can read about those another time. For now, I'm just going to sit here and think up other ways to draw attention to myself in elaborate ways that nobody else has thought of before. It's almost camp season again, I wouldn't want to disappoint anyone.
Monday, June 9, 2008
2. LOTS AND LOTS MORE FENCING. This makes me tired just looking at it. We're not quite done, as most of the posts need wire clips instead of zip ties, but Mr Nice Guy's back went out and so this will have to do until we can hire a
3. EVEN MORE FENCING. This part is not a permanent fence, because we needed to make sure we could get the tractor in to move the hen house around. It's going to get moved about 6 feet forward so the nest boxes can poke out on the other side of the fence. This was the whole idea behind my design for OUTSIDE nests - so we don't have to muck through mud and stuff for eggs in the rain.
4. GARDEN TOOLS and PLANT STARTS. Surefire ways to come down with sudden-onset fatigue syndrome (and yes I just made that up, but it happened to me!)
5. TOMATO PLANTS. There are only six plants that you can see here, in various stages of growth (and I'm happy to say I have two PURPLE tomato plants that are looking great!). The other eighty seven starts (give or take a couple dozen) are not visible in the photo, but since I went hog wild with the tomato starts you'll just have to wait and see. Oh, and if we suddenly deliver 35 pounds of cherry tomatoes to your doorstep sometime this summer, just nod and say thank you. Do not say things like, Oh, I don't like them, or no - I don't need them... just act interested or I will cry.
6. POTATOES. Boys and girls, I have never planted potatoes before, nor have I ever witnessed them being planted in anything other than photos from the depression era. After lots of research (See one of my sources here on a really cool new blog that I contribute to) I hope we'll come up with SOMETHING resembling a yukon gold or a little red baby tater. I like taters. So does Mr. Nice Guy. He's putting some in to bake right now.
7. PUMPKIN PATCH. We intend to grow the largest pumpkin in the state of Oregon. You'll be updated frequently on this backbreaking labor of love for my oldest boy child who snuck the packet of seeds into the shopping cart one day recently.
8. CUCUMBERS. Who doesn't love cucumbers? Well, Mr. Nice Guy for one. He doesn't like them at all. Too bad I put in three ROWS of cucumbers because he's going to have to learn to at least like the look of them. Lemon cukes anyone?
9. BIG GARDENS. The sheer size of this monstrosity would make even the most fit of farmers shudder with dispair. Well, it doesn't phase me one bit, because, I'm full of farm girl energy. Well, I was. I'm also full of farm girl baloney. You're looking at the back end of the carrots and corn on the left, and a few strawberry plants are over on the right (amidst the thistles that we're whacking back every 27.5 minutes). Clear down at the other end (some 125 feet away) after the 12 hills of watermelon and the half dozen cantaloupe are full sized fruit trees, if that gives you a little idea of the size of this bad boy.
10. SPEAKING OF BAD BOYS. We should have named him Randy. He is. It tires me out to have to constantly chase him away from the turkey. I don't know what he sees in her, except maybe he favors large white chicks. This is a family friendly page, so I will go no further. He's a handsome young guy and he knows it.
And for your viewing pleasure, this is my sweet boy, Kellogg. He's glaring at me right now because we put a fence up to keep all the chickens somewhat contained and out of my new garden. He likes to come visit me first thing in the morning, and now he can't. He hasn't figured out he could fly over the fence if he wanted to - so just keep your mouth shut on that one.
The hens, on the other hand, have figured out how to sqeeze THROUGH the fence and they came to visit me. They like to sit on the steps, sun themselves, wait for treats and poop. Hosing off poop makes me dang tired too. For more info on what chickens do - go read my other post over where I'm having fun with other farmgirls. C'mon - we need an audience!
Friday, June 6, 2008
I would like to thank one of my newer readers, Lea, from the Shabby Olde Potting Shed (don't worry, she wears nice things) for the award that I am placing in that new section. Lea has bestowed upon me the coveted (well, it is to me now) Arte y Pico award and I am just thrilled to accept it. Thanks Lea! There is plenty of room for more, should someone else be so inclined.
The rules for this award are:
1. Chose 5 blogs that you consider deserving of this award for their creativity,design, interesting material, and also contribute to the blogging community, no matter what language.
2. Each award has to have the name of the author and a link to his/her blog to be visited by everyone.
3. Each award winner has to show the award and put the name of and link to the blog that presented her/him with the award.
4. The award winner and one who has given the prize has to show the link of "Arte y Pico blog so everyone will know the origin of this award.
5. To show these rules.
Now, I would like to bestow this award of "Creativity, Design, Interesting Material and Contribution to the blogging community no matter what language" to...
Farm Chick From Katie's Calamities
Congratulations girls! Spread the joy!
Thursday, June 5, 2008
I just want you to know that you are a special little girl and you are so very loved by so many. We have showered you with prayers since we found out you were coming, and we asked God to protect you and your Mommy. We asked God to keep your Daddy from being obnoxious and making your Mommy upset. We know how he likes to annoy the girls. It's his hobby. He annoyed me for many years, which is why I was happy to let your Mommy have him forever. Please don't ever let her send him back! You keep him now... he's stuck with ya!
Did I mention that we love you all very much? For months, I know my Momma, your Grandma, has wanted to wrap her arms around you, but she has had to be patient. She had suffer through many years of your cousins bugging the heck out of her and dragging her to the barn to gather eggs, and making her wear boots and play in the mud. Don't kid yourself though, she loves it. She can't wait to do things like that with you and your older brother. You are so lucky. You were born into a family that loves you very, very much. You have lots of Grandma's and Grandpa's and Great Grandparents too! I can't wait to meet you, little princess of the universe. I also can't wait until you grow up and give your Daddy a hard time for me. He was a very pesky little brother, and I know you'll love hearing all the stories about him. Like the time he couldn't handle the fact that I got a load of Barbie's for Christmas from your Great Grandpa. He cried and whined and carried on. You know what your grandparents made me do? They made me give him one! I am still not over the abuction of my Ken Doll. That just wasn't right. I know someday you'll understand.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
I was met with gaping mouths...
Yes, those mouths. The ones that can only utter a few words at a time such as:
What's for dinner?
I don't like that
I don't want that
I hate that
That is gross
I don't like chores
I don't WANNA
I hate you
And then my least favorite... the life-threatening, shrieking noise that comes from some young punk who is suddenly struck by something that annoys him. (I call it life-threatening because I always threaten his life when he does it). This only happens in public. The shrieking, not the threat. Well, the threat is in public, but it's usually whispered very quietly into whichever ear I happen to yank onto.
This shriek happened twice today. In public. Maybe other days it has happened more, but today more people just happened to notice.
I stopped off at the Middle School this morning. It is my 5 year old boy's job to press every available handicapped accessible door button in order for all the doors in the entire building to swing wide open whenever we arrive. This is a self-appointed job, but it amuses him, and who am I to deny amusement? I'm sure people inside the doors expect a processional complete with pomp and circumstance, but lo, it is only the lowly peasant girl with a highly exciteable footman in tow.
This particular morning, however, the push button didn't work at the Middle School. After about 17 of his futile attempts, I pulled the door open myself and walked inside. My footman was NOT pleased at me taking initiative to gain access to the building, but I did NOT care as I simply wanted to check my daughter back in to class and check myself back out as quickly as possible. He stayed outside... thump, thump, thump, as he whacked on the giant sized button in vain.
The shrieking noise and the door opening happened at precisely the same moment and everyone behind the desk (who had been politely ignoring the Thump Thump Thump had now come to complete attention and watched as the door shut behind the student that was slipping through it behind me. As all the staff prepared for lockdown and a visit from the SWAT team, I had to think quickly. I turned around, promptly whacked the inside button and as I sashayed out the door, I commended my son for finally getting the button to work. I heard snickering. I know it.
Just a half hour prior to the door whacking incident, we were patiently waiting for my eldest to have her thousand dollar appliance removed from the roof of her mouth. I was standing nearby her, while my little squirt was in the waiting area around the corner having a field day with three different Gameboy's to choose from. One of the assistants thought I looked a little uncomfortable (which I was) and offered me a chair, which I politely refused. No sooner did I say, "No thank you", did I hear the hair raising shriek. Six women in cute pink scrubs simultaneously dropped stainless steel instruments and wet themselves, and as I made a quick dash to the doorway all I could say was, "See, that's why I don't sit down".
I'm not sure if they were laughing because they thought I was funny, or because they were relieved that they'd all brought extra matching scrubs that day, but it was annoying as heck to me. The reason for the piercing noise? The batteries had gone out in the Gameboy. Really? Who screams over stuff like that?
Well apparently I'm not the only parent with issues like this. This is the reason why I have decided to trade my kids in for something better. I want a child who will do the dishes. Not just do the dishes, but actually scrape off the baked on potatoes before placing dishes in the dishwasher. I do not like using my dishwasher as an oven for twice baked potatoes. I want a child who will say Yes Ma'am, right away ma'am, when asked to clean their rooms. Matter of fact, my kid won't make their room messy in the first place. After all, I never did. (And I never lied either.) (And I never lied about never lying.)
I have decided on ChildTrader service to help me. If you are a parent at all you should probably check this out. I have a feeling I'd have to do a two for one trade, or some sort of cash incentive to get people to trade kids with me, but either way it sounds like a reasonable enough organization. Here's a quote directly from their own page:
"Child Trader Child Exchange Network isn’t about not loving your children. Its about finding a family that can love them more."
Make sure you mention that I referred you - I might get some sort of discount or something, and Lord knows I need it after buying all those groceries yesterday - that everyone hates.