Preparation with a kick

Uh huh.  Those all belong to me.  All those wonderful growing things.  Hens, lemons, grapes, apples and not pictured, peaches.  All things that haven’t taken a whole lot of effort on my part.  And besides the hens which we brought with us, this house had everything else minus someone to water and prune them.  Feeling like I am on the receiving end of a little kick in the rear to get a move on with my journey to emergency preparedness. 

Stick-to-it-iveness

My poor kids.  They are going to have huge chunks of their memories missing because I can’t get with it and write them down. 

I envy those of you who can stick to a schedule.  I can stick to a schedule like gum to a shoe.  It’s sticks really well right away and am very aware of it for a good long while, until enough dirt sticks to it I eventually ignore it, or when I can’t stand it there any longer I just scrape it clean. 

Sorry blogging.  I vow to step on a fresh wad of gum with your name on it. 

So I cancelled my cable when I moved.  They told me I owed a $240 early cancellation fee.  I told them I had been using their services for 5 years and that no, I did not owe them a cancellation fee.  They agreed.

But there was a little problem.  There were two companies.  One who was also my phone company and whom if I got TV service through, they bundled the price of both the phone and TV service (we will call company A), so that is who I paid monthly.  And the other, who actually provided the TV service (company B), but whom I did not pay directly. 

So, in order to fix this early cancellation fee, I had to wait for a check from company A to be mailed to me, so I could in turn, pay company B. 

So, I got the check from company A to pay company B.  And I cashed it.  And then I got a statement from  company B, saying I had a zero balance and thank you for my business.  Hmmm.  I had $240 of theirs.  And the words that slipped out of my mouth next frightened me…

“Well, then I’m just keeping it.” 

Uh huh.  I actually said it out loud. 

I was going to STEAL! 

Once that thought zipped through my devious little mind,  I called company B to tell them I had $240 that didn’t belong to me.   After 20 minutes of them trying to figure out how to reverse a credit, he told me to call company A and try and return it to them.   But what if they won’t take it either? I asked him.  As appropriately as possible, he tried to tell me to count my blessings.  So, I spend another chunk of time on the phone with company A, who kindly said, it wasn’t their money and again was told in cable company terminology, to again count my blessings.  So, I found myself saying…

“Well, then I’m just keeping it.”

Sugar coated

For me, these two things go together like milk and cookies.  

I like sugar.  I like processed food.  It’s terrible and I know it on some levels doesn’t qualify to even be labeled food. But I still desire to inhale it.  I preface with that info so you know full well I am NOT in the business of judging anyone with this post. 

Jayce has been an asthmatic since he was a tiny person.  He suffers from eczema,bowel problems, and some pretty extreme emotional instability.  (Sorry, kiddo. I’m sure someday this post will cause some embarrassment.)  When we started in with Jared having the coughing bouts for several years, I knew the time had come.  I had toyed with the idea of changing our diets drastically multiple times, but never had the gusto to follow through. 

When we moved, I was packing and was fed up with the constant arguing between my children, so using a normal form of discipline in our home, took snacks away for the day.  Then, in an irrational moment, I packed up everything in my cupboards that had sugar or high fructose anything in it, and I stuffed it all in a bin.  It was that day I began this little journey. 

After many trips to the doctor and pharmacy filling and refilling Rx’s that take my boys 10 minutes every night just to ingest, I took Jayce to my Kinesiology/Chiropractor.  Jayce has been tested for allergy’s and had blood drawn to test for food allergy’s over the years, and the only thing my pediatrician and allergist could offer me was a band aid.  Treating the symptoms.  Well, that’s just not good enough for me.  I have a Heavenly Father and Savior whom I know have created a glorious earth and surely they have thought to give us the ability to cure allergies!  (In case your wondering at this point this this horribly long post, I haven’t found that cure yet!)  BUT, I did find out from my chiro that Jayce has an allergy to milk and cheese.  It was a starting place.

And within a few weeks of a non milk and cheese diet, Jayce’s once scabby, scratchy, always-wears-pants legs, were clear as the noon day sky.  And his temperament was remarkably changed.  Peace and harmony is a stretch on any level in my home, but normal was what I got. 

We purged our home of processed food, junk food, and more recently dyes. (Red 40, Blue 1 etc…)  Asthma is still a giant problem.  Eczema still lurks on the tops of Jayce’s knees if we are not 100% diligent.  Jayce still isn’t close to being regular in the restroom dept, but hasn’t been on Miralax for 2 months. (He has had to take it for 5 years)

I heard recently in a talk at church a man say,  “we are so careful what we allow our children to take in with their eyes and ears, why are we not just as careful with what they put in their mouths?”

I am a baby in this world of healthy eating.  But I am fully aware that I can no longer live in ignorance to what things we ought and ought not put into our bodies. 

The 10 virgins taught me today

I drove home tonight filled with emotion.  I had received so much information at once, and I didn’t want to lose any of it before I could get home and get it out on paper.  I found myself literally holding my breath and crunching my stomach down as if I could somehow hold it in from disappearance. 

I should begin earlier in the day….   My sister and I had moment of frustration with one another on a miscommunication of where I should be tonight.  To an important dinner with her, or at my women’s Relief Society event.  I had disappointed her when I told her I wanted to go to my meeting.  I wrestled with myself throughout the day on whether I had made the right decision. 

This event was a play of sorts put on by women portraying Christ’s biblical parable of the 10 virgins.  Through song they retold the story of these women and what might have been their life’s blessings or challenges and how it played into meeting the Bridegroom.  As each women told her story, I saw myself and those I love in each one.  I saw my mother in the woman who spent all of her time serving and comforting others and lit the way for those who suffered,  I cried when I saw myself in another who was endlessly busy with day to day life, that had often run out of time to fill her lamp, or even light it daily.  I saw dear friends in the face of one whose life was filled with grief and sorrow, whose lamp was broken and could only be made whole again by one…  I saw the world in a young woman who was plagued by self doubt, and envious of those around her.  I yearned for the simplicity of another and the peace in her eyes as she described her love for her Savior.  Each had a story.  Each had a message.  Each story told, brought to my mind vivid answers to questions I had been searching for.  There are few times in my life that I have known without a doubt that the spirit was actually speaking words to my mind.  Tonight, I had no doubt. 

I am thankful to my Savior for the message given tonight.  For the comfort spoken to my soul.  I understand why it was a bit of a battle to make the decision to attend.  I understand my Heavenly Father as well as the adversary knew what I would gain tonight. 

Baa baa black sheep

Jess and Shannon have always had a jovial competition as siblings as to who was the rightful owner of the title ‘Black sheep’ in our family.  I, on the other hand am happy to sidestep that title.

I have been hearing a bit about sheep in the past few months.  Well, more about those who tend the sheep.  So there are shepherds, and then there are sheep herders.  There’s a difference.  Did you know that?  A Shepherd leads His sheep, guiding them.  While a sheep herder pushes the sheep from behind, forcing them in the direction he wants them to go. 

Is it any wonder why Christ is often referred to as our Shepherd?  I tend to be a sheep herder generally.  My sister Megan this written in her home:

REACT

  I believe it is the way Christ teaches us.  He doesn’t react to our mistakes, hopes, or pleadings.  He acts, and allows us to follow His perfect example.  I need to be better at teaching my children well enough, that when they happen upon a speed bump, they will know how to handle it, instead of watching them go full force toward the speed bump and screaming and chasing after them trying to make them avoid catastrophe.  Sigh.  So much to work on! 

I’m taking a sick day

Cough.cough.cough. Cough.cough.cough. Cough.cough.cough. Cough.cough.cough. Cough.cough.cough. Cough.cough.cough. Cough.cough.cough. Cough.cough.cough. Cough.cough.cough.

It’s like a bronchial symphony.  Fevers breaking, tempers following suit.  Add cabin fever with the rain and mud and you have my week/weekend/looking like this week too.  It’s been really great.  I have even gotten to clean up vomit a dozen or so times.  The one time we ventured outdoors…. 

Jayce felt well enough to head outback and kick his soccer ball around.  Right over the back fence which backs up to a main road.  So, I throw off my robe, head out and start the walk around the corner in my pajamas.  The kids look haggard but seem to enjoy this breath of fresh air.  Until they start coughing. And I swear once one starts, the others have this subconscious need to chime in.  Jayce gets a hold of the soccer ball and we head back home. We have just one more house between us and home…  and Lainy is coughing uncontrollably.   I’m hurrying them along so as not to sicken the neighbors… and she turns and throws up right in my neighbors driveway.  Yay.  I practically sneered at lainy to ‘get in the house now.’  (poor thing.  She was so sick.)  And ran back outside with a pitcher of water…  

Feeling like a kid again

Jared:  Mom, when I grow up and you and dad are my kids, I will give you a whole piece of gum. 

Mom:  Wow, Jared.  That is super nice of you.  How many kids will you have? 

He turned, sort of studied me for a minute, looked pointedly from me to Jason and back. “Two.  You and Dad.” 

Boy, am I glad that’s not the way it works.  Pay back can be a scary thing…

Practically Perfect in every way

I love Mary Poppins.  I can’t count how many times I have been enlightened by her.  She’s confident and self assured, but not to a flaw.  She breaks out into song in a public place and no one seems to think she is a loon.  She can fly. Doesn’t mind getting dirty.  She knows when her time is spent, and makes a perfect exit.  Of all the times I had watched, I never caught this little phrase until passing by it while my kids were mesmerized by this wonderful character.

“Enough is as good as a feast”

I know.  Read it again.  I heard it and it literally stopped me where I stood.  How had I missed this perfect little gem all my life?  I find myself complaining more often than I like admitting about the things I own, or the house I live in, but I have now added this little phrase and it slips me back into my reality in which I should be down on my knees expressing my gratitude for the blessings I do have. 

Our house… is a very very very fine house.

This new house was foreign to me.  It was an intruder in my life.  (A blessing, but an intruder nonetheless)   Nothing was the right shape or size or color.  I was kind of angry with it. 

I had a good departure from the old house.  I spent some time walking through it watching memories replay themselves as I allowed some tears to slip out. 

New house is now full of all of our unnecessary things.   And just like that, after 2 weeks… it feels like home.  I have found a lot of things to love and a few things to annoy. 

And although my ‘stuff’ helps make these walls feel familiar and more comfortable, it’s my family that make this our home. 

Sink or Swim

I hadn’t blogged in a while.  I started a few days ago, but all I could squeeze out was a few scratch-the-surface memories and thoughts. 

I knew this post was coming. Lurking in the back of my scattered little mind.  The moving post.   I have been inching across the diving board toward the water for months now.  It’s time to dive in.  Make our move.  In 2 weeks.  My house is half packed.  It’s sold.  Sigh.  I talked pretty big.  No tears allowed.  I only talked about the good and excitement in all of it.  Bright, shiny, and new.   Now, looking over the edge, I would like to baaaaack up, right down into my nice comfy familiar pool chair.  Have you been there?  But you can’t backup.  There’s a line.  You have to jump.  So I am standing here crying on the edge of the diving board hoping it will just go away. 

I don’t want to be the kid who cries at the edge of the diving board that someone puts out of their misery by giving me a swift shove over the edge. 

I know I’m not dying, or even moving very far.  But I’ll miss my friends.  My home. My familiarity.  

And in I go! (envision me gracefully twirling through the air, a couple of flips and just the tiniest splash.) 

Lainy turns 6, and I get older.

 Lainy and I share a birthday week, and sometimes Turkey Day is thrown in there.  Her dear and talented Aunt Shelley made her this beautiful tutu and wand combo.  (LOVE) 

 

I got a little carried away and went a little Vegas showgirl that night…  I know, hard to believe there was no drinking involved…

You can’t tell, but behind the paper were two glorious treasures.  My mom had taken all of my childhood photos and put them in order in two beautiful photo albums.  And those cute earrings I have on are from her.  (Thanks mom!)

And this picture is for Shannon.  I idolized my sister Shannon growing up (I still do) and every time something exciting happened to me, her name was the one that came out of my mouth, since she was usually the one I wanted to share the news with. I have countless pictures of me with this less than glamorous facial distortion.  I’m sure I was saying her name yet again here… 

 

We had our annual gingerbread decor contest that weekend as well.  Boys vs kids vs girls.  We won.  Hands down. (Though I’m not sure the boys know that)

Thanksgiving was wonderful and fattening.  Great week.  Christmas post is coming along nicely…. 

Hi Ho Hi Ho back on Steroids we go…

I have two asthmatics, and one very healthy child.  Jayce has had it since he was a tiny person and now that he is older we have a handle in his medication.  But Jared…   oh my goodness.  He shows no normal symptoms of an asthmatic.  He seems to be able to breath deeply, but cannot stop the chronic coughing.  Remember last year?  He coughed for months.  I’m not talking a little cough here and there.  ALL NIGHT. EVERY NIGHT.  We tried all kinds of meds, had his tonsils and adenoids removed, slept keeping him sitting upright with a bowl next to him for when he coughed so hard he threw up.  (I know, I know, woe is me.  I’m documenting history here…) 

Once the summer hit (and all things living died, hence no allergies)  The boys slept like babies again minus being stuffed with steroids, creams, and antihistamines.  Winter hit and here we are again.  Doc said to keep up his steroid regimen, but to also put him on OTC Claritin.  Really?  Claritin?  C’mon.  We took the kids tonsils out for crying in the night, you think it’s as simple as Claritin?

MM HMM.  It is. 

Slept like a rock.  For a month.  Until I decided to mess with it again.  Why do I do that?  Oh, it’s working, surely we should mess with it and see if we can screw it up fix it some more.  Two nights of coughing cured me.  Back on all those blessed meds. 

Ok, here’s the thing.  (The point of this novel)  I complain a LOT about everything I have to give my boys for this thing called asthma.  But really, I need to add it to my daily prayers.  Because I wouldn’t have either of my boys anymore, if it weren’t for all of these things that may or may not have horrible side effects.  So….  I LOVE Flovent, I LOVE Pulmicort, I LOVE Hydrocortisone cream, I LOVE Albuterol, I LOVE Immunotherapy drops.  Because I LOVE my boys. 

Good teeth come to those who wait…

I thought this kid was going to be 10 before he got his teeth back.  I would venture to guess he is the only 3rd grader in his school still missing his front teeth.  I even took him to dentist to make sure there were some IN there waiting to pop through.  Today, 8 full months after it came out, it has made it’s debut. 

Jared:  sniff sniff.    SNIFF SNIFF.

Mom: You ok?

Jared: Yeah, I have a booger in my nose. 

Mom: Let me see, do you need a tissue? 

Jared: (Proceeds to blow nose.)

Mom: Did it work?

Jared: It needs a finger up there.

He lives in a pineapple under the sea

I never thought I would say I miss SpongeBob.

I always put cable TV on hold for the 6 months while the weather is beautiful in AZ.  So, we right now have the basic shows.  As Jared was watching one of these channels (qubo) I was doing dishes and catching a bit of it.  I kept hearing the term ‘belly button lint’.  My interest was piqued. 

There are a handful of animals that are friends and were each collecting their own lint.  Some of the more villainous characters were stealing the lint from others.  (gag)  Turns out there is an annual belly button lint weighing contest. 

In case you are still held in suspense, (I know I was feeling something other than suspense) The villian is found out and is disqualified. 

So, need I repeat…

I MISS SPONGEBOB.

Miss you nanner.

If this picture is the only good thing that came out of Thanksgiving weekend, all the prep and crazy would be worth it!  But it’s not…  More to come!

A little privacy please?

I almost never write about Jason.  He’s such a private person.  Maybe I don’t out of respect for his privacy…

NAH. 

Several years ago I asked a marriage counselor a simple question. It wasn’t phrased so much as a question as it was a slur of words spit out in exasperation. 

“Why can’t we just have a normal marriage, like everyone else??”

He laughed.  That counselor laughed.  A good hearty laugh.  He of all people would know.  No normal marriage is what it seems. 

We both have taken our turn, well…  turning things upside down.  We started messing things up when we first got married,  and continued on doing so now for nearly 10 years.  We just figured out there will always be things to mess up, things with which to make mistakes, things that need fixing. Thaaaat’s the part we’re getting good at.  The fixing.  We know how to make a mountain out of a mole hill, and how to avoid doing it.   We have traveled (tripped/stumbled) down the road of sorrow.  And then headed back on the path to forgiveness.  We still have a long journey ahead.  BUT…

We have never laughed so loudly, smiled so broadly, loved so deeply, as we do now in our 10th year together.  He is my friend. My companion.  My love. 

It’s in the fine print

So I bought some new clippers. 

Aren’t they pretty?  They sound like a jet engine when you turn them on.  And they are awesome.  I could shear a sheep with these babies.   So today I was looking through the warranty info and reading the fine print. 

This warranty does not cover normal wear of parts or damage, resulting from any of the following…  (it goes on to list)  …Further, the warranty does not cover: Acts of God, such as fire, flood, hurricanes, and tornadoes. 

It doesn’t cover Acts of God!  I shouldn’t be surprised that God was mentioned here, but I was.  It could’ve said, the warranty doesn’t cover natural disasters, a phenomenon, a supernatural event, freak accident, or aliens taking over planet earth.    Thank you Oster for this small print truth. 

 

Pick a chick

Fall Carnival was last weekend and I have three additions to the family.  Chick number one, Beautiful unicorn sparkle bird, and Motorcycley.  Keep in mind we live a bit out of city limits so the festivities fell into the categories of Money Goat (they tied money to a goat and the kids chased it), the Chick chase, and the typical, bounce house, dunk tank, cake walk, etc etc, and the concession stands.   Lainy was all in for the chick chase.  I had to coerce Jared into lining up.  He was not enthusiastic.  I figured I didn’t have much to worry about.  Until they both came giggling and squealing each carrying a wiggling and squeaking chick.  What are the chances?   There were like 30 kids in their group and 6 chicks!  Ok, I figured we could give them away later right?  Then Jayce’s group was up.  The older they got, the more competitive it got.  The chase ended and Jayce was empty handed.  Phew.  But wait!  A chick had escaped.  Through the fence and into the adjacent field.  The kids stood watching it run free it seemed.  Until a kid shimmied up and over said fence and grabbed the fleeing chicka-doo.  My kid.  3 for 3!?  I heard myself sigh loudly as a mother consoled her child walking by empty handed and in tears. 

There was no prying those chickens away after that.   Jayce refused to name his.  (He assumed for a while that we would eventually eat it.)  It’s been a full week.  They still wake every morning with the words can I go see my chick? on their tiny tired lips.  And every afternoon they spend hours playing with them.  I’m getting used to the idea. 

My Autumn Eyes by Jayce

My autumn eyes behold

The tall tree at home.

The big fat person.

The tiny milk dud.

The little tiny weirdo.

 

*** I’m sure he meant no offense. 

Today I…

Began writing a little story.  A children’s story. Maybe someday I’ll share it with ya. It’s about counting your blessings.  It’s about knowing life changes and sometimes the stuff you want to hang onto the most gets lost in the shuffle of change.  I love the change.  It’s the shuffle I haven’t mastered yet.  So, following suit with you fellow bloggers in a month of thankfulness, here are the things I am grateful for even in midst of the shuffle. 

• I am grateful I don’t have a cold.  I hate stuffy noses and coughing.
• I am grateful for friends and sisters who let me chatter their ear off. 
• I am grateful for a husband who has a job. 
• I am grateful for the internet. 
• I am grateful for my calling teaching the 16/17 year old young women. 
• I am grateful for brown floors that don’t show the dirt. 
• I am grateful for bleach. 
• I am grateful for 80 degree weather in November.
• I am grateful that Jason’s hobby is collecting Hot Wheels and not real wheels.
• I am grateful for authors so I can read.
• I am grateful for modern medicine.
• I am grateful for Alpine Bakery so I don’t have to make bread myself.
• I am grateful. 

7 Brides for 7 Bros

This week for our musical I assumed I would be on my own.  7 Brides for 7 Brothers.  The kids didn’t seem interested so I took it into the office while I sewed costumes.  Halfway through I had Lainy and Jared squeezed into my office chair hushing me.   Even Jayce begs to watch it for our after dinner TV time. We have watched it 5 times together since.  Always at their request. 

Sedona memories

I grew up in So Cal and have never ventured south to Mexico. 

I have lived in AZ for 10 years and until a few weeks ago had never been to Sedona. 

We started out on the side of the road at an outdoor farmers’ market.  Whatever was in that field was probably very cool.

I know this looks like my mom, but it’s her twin sister, Julie.  Jared didn’t know twins were a reality until he took them in about 10 yards from each other.  I think his little head went back and forth between them about 10 times wondering how on earth she was in two places at once.  Once he realized she wasn’t Grammy, it only took all of 10 seconds to warm up to her!

We hit Montezuma's Castle along the way which was VERY cool.  I have a family of rule breakers and its a miracle that place is still in tact.  Jason wanted a close up shot, so he went close up.  Jared broke a chunk off of the (thankfully modern made) wall. 

Drewby had a grand time in my hair.  I swear I didn’t mind, though the picture would suggest otherwise.

I found Jared in the gift shop shaking this and trying to get the money out of the donations box.  Look at his gaze, the kid wanted that money.

Stopped off for a hike and found a walking stick bug.  Very cool. 

The rock formations were breathtaking and the weather was amazing.

Husband and 8 year old child.  Again, with the rule breaking, only this time I thought we might need a rescue chopper… They were a LOT higher than this picture looks.  Dummy.

How cute are they?  It is a still little weird seeing two of my mom. 

We ended the day going through the Church in the Rock.

Actually the day ended with milkshakes in this little place that had the ceiling covered in twinkly outer space lighting and alien life forms all over the place and creepy space music.  Weird. 

The paint plate

This plate started as a cheap plastic plate from Wal-Mart and has become a splotchy, messy, much used, memory holder. 

The dark green on the very bottom was used to paint an old picture frame that held my weekly menu and pictures of Jayce when he was a baby.

The gold used to paint the Gold plates for girls camp one year. 

The black was used to paint the Crayola signs on Halloween costumes when my kids and cousins were a box of crayons.

The red white a blue were used for painting popsicle stick flags for the Fourth of July.

It’s used several times a week for painting pages of super heroes and princesses, and sometimes arms legs and faces. 

Doesn’t look like much.  It’s all in the eye of the beholder. 

For me, it’s a plate full of memories.

Big Momma Lu

Jayce started (and has already ended) his first basketball season this year.  I have sat through countless baseball games and a couple of soccer games cheering him on as part of my motherly duties.  But basketball…  I know I will be that mom who gets removed from the gymnasium for disorderly…  yelling.   It’s my sport. I understand it. I love it.  So, when Jayce’s coach asked if I wanted to scrimmage coaches against the whole team of 11 kids, I was thrilled. 

You know when you were a kid, (or an adult) and you hear the cool nicknames people end up with?  And you wish you had one?  Yeah, that was me, with a name like Julia I thought for sure I was exempt and would never receive one (I did, but that’s another blog post).  So, that day while running around the court with little people, I had the ball and was dribbling past Jayce, when he said, “Hey, Big Momma!”   

IT  STUCK.

All three of my kids call me Big Momma on a regular basis!  I am doomed to be known as Big Momma for the rest of my life! 

And this morning when Jayce was asking why Jared (who is barely 4) has bigger feet than Braydon (who is 5) I explained that both he and Jared have bigger feet that most kids his age.  And then my downfall, I asked him did he know why?  He turned around in that chair and said,

“Cuz you’re Big Momma?”   

 

Whoosh! Was that time flying by?

Last month I was outside and caught Lainy flying past me on her bike to the driveway, she smiled as she turned her bike to the side and skidded flawlessly to a stop.  I walked over and took the training wheels off.  She just took off again.

This week Jared followed suit.  It’s been 3 days and he’s already trying to stand while riding and doing ‘poppawheelies’

This year I have no children in diapers, (even at night!) all children at school at some point or another during the week, all children in primary, no children who cry when I leave the house, all children who ride bikes with no training wheels, and all children who have grown to love being together. 

I am sad some moments…   then I go back to reading my book in quiet while they are all keeping themselves occupied on their own!

I got off at the wrong stop…

I am ready for the city life again.  Oversized scorpions and tonight a snake in the garage.  Eck.   Give me an HOA, a 12x12 patch of grass, and a cookie cutter house, and stamp me happy. 

Ok, maybe I got ahead of myself there.  I have realized in my 5 years of stumbling upon creatures from the very depths of hell, dusting in vain, and spending ridiculous amounts in gas each month, that I don’t want to live in the city.  Or even the suburbs.  I like this quiet out here.  I like that my kids can hop on their bikes and have plenty of space without traffic.  I love the peace.  I just don’t want all of that here.  Too hot.  Too dusty. Too brown. Too many creepy crawlers.  But, I’ll take it with a smile if that’s where I’m meant to be…  

Anyone heard of this site?  It’s so fun!  You answer a bunch of questions about what kind of place you want to live in and it gives you the top 24 cities that match!  Weirdly mine are in Washington, Kansas, Indiana, Missouri, Michigan, Iowa, Colorado, Ohio, and Nebraska.  Where is your ideal location?

My friend Monica

There is probably an episode of ‘Friends’ that I can associate to nearly everything in my life.  I completely relate with Monica on so many levels.  But mostly, it’s her loudness, and her love of organizing. 

Finishing up dinner tonight I was doing dishes, cleaning pots and pans, packing extra food away and finally wiping down counters.  It hit me how much I love watching a kitchen transform from crazy food mess to sparkling clean. 

On to the friends episode.  I LOVE and totally indentify with the one where Chandler cleans Monica’s kitchen and rearranges everything, and instead of freaking out that everything has been moved she thanks him for such a wonderful gift as letting her put everything back. 

***Note to my children/spouse if they happen to read this and get any ideas…  If you mess up the house and say Happy Birthday, your busted. 

How to get out of an 8 foot hole

Jayce’s teacher asked them to write detailed directions to this statement.  Here’s Jayce’s response…

To get out of an eight- foot hole first call a robot and tell him to drop a match and a roket.   Second put the rocket on your back.   Third baptism by emerson.  Jest jocking.  Third light the mach.  Fourth put it on the rocket.  Or you could clim out with a later becase when I get on it, it will fall becuse it is raining the latter sank into the mud. 

I love this kid.  He is a lazy speller.  And obviously he gets a little distracted…   To think I just about threw this gem out before reading it. 

Unsinkable

We are still slowly plucking away at the list of musicals I deem a necessity in my children’s lives.  Today was The Unsinkable Molly Brown.  Could be the most memorable musical of my childhood.  I highly recommend it.  My sisters and I sing from it often.  And hilariously.  So…   Belly up!

There’s damage with any explosion

It comes out of nowhere really.  I mean I guess you knew it was coming.  All the signs were there.  All the warnings.  It’s not like an explosion isn’t worked up to.  You have to put the explosives in there and light them right?  Surely once you light them and walk away, you expect them to blow up at some point.  Just not sure at exactly what moment it will blow.  And for the those on the other side of the hill who never saw you shoving explosives in there and lighting it, wow were they unprepared.  All that noise and blasting.  Stuff flying through the air and being too close to it and having the ash and crud fall down on top of them without warning.  Seems as if they should have had some warning.  Probably scared them a bit.  Too bad you didn’t think that through before everything blew…

Today I shoved the explosives in and lit them.  Today my family were those on the other side of the hill being rained on by my explosion.  No warning.  Just noise and crud flying through the air.  Sorry family.  I’ll try and give a little warning next time. 

My hour.

There’s hours for sleeping

for eating

for feeding

for laundry

for homework

for the salon

for scrubbing

for carpooling

for bills

for scolding

for hugging

for comforting

for countless things that need doing. 

Then, there’s the hour for me.  The hour of silence, to read or relax, to eat without sharing.

Just enough time to notice the silence. 

And just enough time to love my life for all the craziness that it is.

Food critic

Salad.  I eat it. I know.  Doesn’t seem like anything to announce.  It is.  Trust me.  Let me give you a little peek into my eating history. 

I used to swallow peas, chopped up green beans, corn, and diced carrots like pills.  Yes, I plugged my nose at the same time. 

In my earlier years, while I was still an amateur, I would wrap things in my napkin, and push things around my plate to make it appear as if I had eaten something. 

I once took my mashed potatoes and stuffed them under the cushion I was sitting on at the table.  Only to find out when my gramma cleaned the floor, that it went straight through the wicker under said cushion and formed little potato worms. 

My chair at the table backed up against the stairs.  It was an open space under there where we stored odds and ends.   I used to take a piece of whatever we were eating that wasn’t to my liking, and quickly chuck it behind me into the abyss of miscellaneous things under the stairs. 

I gagged if anything green came near my mouth.  For years. 

So, I eat salad.  Seems like a bigger deal now right?  Look closer, I swear there’s some lettuce under all that chicken. 

Marker wars

I’m not sure how it started that first day.  I imagine one of us, (probably Shannon) walked by with a marker and without thinking did a little mark on the innocent one (me).  Or perhaps it started as an accident (on my part) and the other (Shannon) retaliated and so the war began.  Either way, these marker wars are some of my favorite memories.  We (I) would come away in the end, covered in marks from a black sharpie marker and Shannon, would have a small mark somewhere behind her ear or on the back of her arm.  And it was usually yellow or orange (as I remember it).  It became a game.  She or I would hand the other a marker, (I usually got a light colored one to defend myself with) and we would sort of lunge (swordfight) at one another in a fit of giggles and wrestling.  I never won.  Ever.  She was smaller than me and quick.  Even when we played “throw the other on the couch’” (which is played just as it’s called), I never won.  I outweighed her and I was taller.  And yet, I was always the one covered in black ink, on the couch.  I loved it.  Because I loved her.  Everything was (is) always more fun when she was involved. 

So when I found these two well, like this, I wondered how Jared ended up so lucky as to be covered in blue marker and Lainy just had a few marks…  I’m sure it’s because he loves her.  And she him.

 

100% chance of showers

*** This post was written about a month ago

Oh This stormy day is august suits my mood.  It’s a weather hiccup.  Doesn’t belong in the organizations of the heat and summer.  I like organization.  I like things in a controlled environment.  Planned. Prepared. Expected.  Jason lost his job this week.  Unplanned.  He doesn’t see to be panicking at all.  He says I need to be patient.  Calm.  Wait for something to come.  WAIT?!  What until it falls into my lap?  Nice try.  I wait for nearly nothing.  Run after it. Work for it. Plan! Prepare! Expect!

Current blogging day:

Ok. Now I look at this entry and wonder where my brain was.  More importantly where was my faith?  We have been praying for years, about whether or not to sell the house.  Whether or not to go to school full time instead of this crazy working and schooling.  Where home is for us?  Should be expand our family, or is it complete?  And just couldn’t get past that where we were, was where we should be. 

Now, I like change.  Always have.  I like organizing, planning, and preparing.  I wanted something new.  Well, I certainly got it.  After scrolling down the list in my brain of ‘possible answers that I could deal with from my Heavenly Father’ this one was not on the list.  So, it took me a bit to recognize that oh yeah, I asked for some answers. 

It was amazing to see that people,books, lessons, and comforts I needed to understand that what is happening IS the answer.  Sometimes the answers seem to suck.  Like losing a job and house in one foul swoop.  But in 10 years, will I look back and think, it was brilliant.  I could have never gotten to where I needed to be without it.  Of course.  So today I am grateful for this stormy day in the summer.  The rain. Even the mud. 

Why wasn’t I this cool when I was 8?

Jayce is the coolest kid.  He and I have always gotten along.  I just like him.  Of course, I like all of my kids.  But even if he wasn't my kid, I would just think he was so cool.  Here’s some proof…

This was his rocket booster he asked me to tape on. 

Jayce came with us to buy a car and was hilarious.  We kung foo-ed our way through the waiting. 

 

There is almost always some sort of weapon strapped to this kid.  Plus, his own ‘guns’ of course. 

Jayce is amazing with paper.  On this occasion he needed tanks for his men.  Those paper things are origami tanks.  No, I didn’t help him.  He makes weapons out of paper too of course.

This is a snake eating a poor lizard that Jayce had himself been trying to catch.  He would have caught him too, had it not been for the snake. 

This is the scene I came upon one afternoon while Jayce was taking stock of his weapons. 

The kid loves to hike.  We hiked one day and were ready to head back and Jayce complained it wasn’t a real hike.  Wasn’t hard enough.  So we took him off trail and up the side of the mountain.  He loved it!

Jayce and Jared flying jet planes with go cart helmets and paper steering wheels. 

He could make pancakes on his own by the time he was 5.  Once he got up early and made them for me. When I woke up I wondered where they were.  In the trash he said,  they looked really weird.  He had used flour instead of pancake mix. 

He wanted so badly to be Avatar for Halloween last year and even let me shave his head.  Awesome.

Watch your language

Dinner gets a bit…  out of hand at times at our house.  Growing up, we talked about our day around the table, discussed life and the happenings.  It wasn’t quiet.   Jason’s family wasn’t quite that vocal during table time.  Jason also uses words that are unique.  For example, dadgumit, howdy, and y’all. This evening was one such evening and Jason had had enough once something was spilled.  He let out a doggoneitjayce!  I have learned to stifle the snicker, but apparently Jared had never heard such language.  He let out a whooping laugh followed by “dog. gone?”   He thought that was the best line of the night.  As did I.