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.
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.
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.
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?”
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 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?
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.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
*** 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.
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.
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.
I had forgotten how much I loved that feeling. Craved that feeling. The one where you can feel the finish line pulling in you faster, stronger to cross over it. That feeling of giving everything you have, wondering how you will ever make it. And then it hits you. This rush, it sends tingles all through my body and forces my mouth into a smile. This is the moment I love running for. It’s a high, a rush, this adrenaline. It happens again when you are approaching the finish line. Even though you have given everything you have, somehow your mind makes up for the lacking and you propel yourself through it trying to drink it all in. Not the crowd, or even the clock. It’s that power. The feeling that you pushed and worked hard enough. You finished.
I have always been a runner. I have always loved it. But you might recall last January, I ran a race my mind and body wouldn’t soon forget. 13.2 excruciating miles without proper training. It was awful. I hated running that day. I wondered when that would wear off and I would hit the pavement again. Today is 7 months. I can honestly say I hadn’t felt that tingle, that drive to run for 7 months.
Today I felt it. It was somewhere deep inside that I felt that urge. To get home as fast I could, and get on the treadmill. And I ran. For a whopping mile, before I puked. The assumption that a couple miles would feel great was quite short lived. I ran one more mile and vowed to do better tomorrow. I know I will get there. I miss that wonderful sweaty feeling of adrenaline flowing through my veins. And I will run that half marathon again in January. And this time I’ll be ready.
We have had this competition conversation between children many times before. Can you flare your nostrils? They then proceed to flare their very best nostril flare, and can you curl your tongue? And all the little tongues get a bit crazy then ultimately it ends up with the master of all facial wiggling… who can wiggle their ears. Oh the whole back seat tried their darndest, but everything but the ears were doing the wiggling. This is Lainy’s very favorite part, for she can wiggle her little ears. And after a humble display she mentioned that when she is sad, she puts her ears down like Flapjack.
Lainy was creating something important with magnetics and Jared was at her heels trying to swipe them to make his own creation. She quickly pulled them out of reach and said, “Hey! I am going to be a scientist!” Pause.
“Or a cowgirl. Or a nail polish painter.”
She just may end up being all three!
Some rain can be a good thing. In fact, it’s a necessity. But too much of a good thing?
There are times when it feels like a steady rain giving just enough discomfort to form annoyance.
It seems manageable enough, it’s just a little rain. You grab your umbrella and continue on your way.
It doesn’t get any heavier, that’s good. Just a constant drizzle. Harmless right? No breaks, but not the worst you’ve seen. So you keep going.
After a while you realize it’s getting harder to move around. Takes more effort to walk in the same constant drizzle you thought wasn’t so bad. So you put your boots on.
Ok, boots help. The rain hasn’t stopped. Or gotten worse. So now you are wearing boots and carrying the umbrella and going about your normal business.
Soon you notice it’s up to your knees and it’s starting to flow making your progress a bit harder against the forming current. Still the rain isn’t coming down any harder, but not letting up either.
So you lean forward and keep going. You still have strength left.
The longer it rains, the higher it goes. Your waist, then your chest, until eventually you’re up to your neck in this once seemingly bearable water.
You realize you must now find shelter or you will drown. Why didn’t you do it while you had the chance? Somehow this small task of walking in the rain has become this huge burden and you didn’t even notice until you nearly drown.
