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.”
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.
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.
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!
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…
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…
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.
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.
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 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….
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 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.
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! 
