PLAIN JAME.

I have people to do that for me.

2011-12-17T14:08:00.000-07:00

Something about watching your spawn deck the halls...

My little guy got out a stool so he could hang some ornaments.

It was still quite the stretch...

So he just hung them in a clump and played with his balloon some more...

Sister took a turn. She even let her penguin hang one or two. She is obsessed with penguins.

Mom and Dad - well, we just sat back and enjoyed the view and listened to some lovely Christmas music and children bickering... Good times, good times..

Orange Tuesday.

2011-11-22T12:50:00.002-07:00

I lovingly named this post "orange tuesday" because I am revolting against the constant barrage of Black Friday being thrown at me from every source of media - small and large. Oh my gosh - can we hold off on every commercial containing jingling bells, and someone yelling in an enthusiastic voice? "BLAHBLAHBLARBEEBLARWEEEYAHBLAH!"

It's funny how I am just a miraculous walking paradox with my conflicting feelings of nostalgia and extreme annoyance. This time of year does that to me.

In other news, Thanksgiving is in 2 days - just in case you didn't know. Because I think lots of people have forgotten. Lots of people are preoccupied with shopping - not that there is anything bad with shopping. Just on a Holiday that should center around family, gratitude, and Thanksgiving. Yes, please. The holiday I am referring to is NOT black friday - I repeat, it's NOT black friday. The majority of the stores are now open for shoppers on this day, at some point in the day. All those workers that have family or friends at home playing games, watching games, eating themselves sick, laughing and talking - they are having to go to work on Thanksgiving. So people can buy stuff - which they can 363 other days of the year as well. This disturbs me a little. I want to be able to celebrate my holidays separately from each other and not watch the world get all caught up in a frenzy of buying just a little too prematurely.

If any store CEO's happen to stumble upon my super-important blog, Please read that you should keep your stores closed on Thursday and stick to opening at some ungodly hour the following day.

Thanks.

Take it with a grain of salt.

2011-11-15T09:36:00.000-07:00

So you think you just might be ready to have your own spawn and do your part to multiply and replenish the earth? Hear the biological clock bonging in your head? Desire the little pitter patter of tiny feet around your home? Here are a few things I recommend to try out, and see if you're ready.

Rent some barnyard animals, go ahead and leave the backdoor open and allow them to roam freely.
Turn on Calliou, Sid the Science Kid, or Dora the Explorer (or any other high pitched voice where they have had a voice actor get hopped up on meth and helium) and turn it way up and leave it there for 3 hours straight.
Be sure to turn it up full blast though when you're on an important phone call. It's ok if this makes the barnyard animals want to chew on your furniture.
Wrestle a greased pig in the bathtub, and drop your cell phone in the toilet.
Attempt to diaper that greased pig.
Dump out a bag of flour in your kitchen and living room. While you're cleaning that up, have someone stomp grapes into your living room rug, and smear some oatmeal on the walls.
Have you smashed your head in the fridge door yet? Great - proceed...
Have a neighbor come get into your bed in the middle of the night. Make sure they sleep with his/her feet on your face, grinds their teeth, and backhands you every time they move.
Set off an alarm to go off every 47 minutes during the night.
Practice functioning off 4 hours of sleep per night.
Sit on a cactus while clamping down on each nipple for 20 minutes. Practice this during the night, too.
Play an audio tape of Spongebob Squarepants in your car on high volume when driving anywhere.
Have someone ask you what you're doing and why every 3 minutes.
Cook a delicious meal. Promptly pour half of it straight down the drain/garbage disposal.
Buy all of your clothes 2 sizes too small, and try to put them on every single morning anyway.
Learn how to open things such as fruit snacks with your teeth or one hand.
Suckle a honeybadger.
Put your favorite outfit on - likely the only one that fits - and immediately dump a fresh bowl of oatmeal all over it.
Are you frothing at the mouth yet? Wait til I get started...
Go to the grocery store with greasy hair and your fly down the entire time, and dont buy half the stuff you need. Don't wear makeup either, thats just showing off.
Dump out some Jacks, Legos, dried bread crusts, a half eaten banana, and some nails/screws interspersed throughout your house and couch cushions. Make sure you step or sit on them.
Play David Lee Roth on your radio for six straight hours a day. You're now allowed to self-inflict at this point. Feel free to scream every time David Lee Roth does, though. You can even add some Hannah Montana in for variety.
Make sure one of those farm animals ruins your favorite purse.
Twist all of your lipsticks and chapsticks all the way up and then squish the lid down in them, but don't wipe it off when it's oozing out - just jam it back down into your purse.
Let a lion use your gut as a scratching post - get used to that shredded look.
Have I harmed your in any way? That is not my intention...

Notice how I am still alive, people. You know why I (or most other mothers for that matter) haven't jumped off a cliff yet? Because these little critters inflicting such life-changing monumental change on our lives are the source of such Love and Adoration that we'd do anything for them! My kids are my life, and even though they drive me bat-sharts-crazy on a daily basis, somehow they have changed my life for the better, and helped me put things into perspective. Life isn't all about me anymore!
Being a mother is the hardest job - like doing the work of twenty for free - but there is a reason it just keeps happening all through time and all over the world...
The reason is how I feel when I see this..

or this...

or this!

or this..

or this...

or this..

Yep - it's all worth it.

House of Pain.

2011-10-25T14:00:00.000-06:00

It's hard to get ahead in life sometimes...

The good news is, we have 3 beautiful children.

The bad news is, they are not healthy.

Firstborn has laryngitis, and we can barely understand what she is saying. I feel like this house is an apothecary - distributing Ibuprofren, Delsym, and warm cups of noodle soup. Middle child just slept from about 9pm last night until about 11am this morning - allowing her body to heal.

I had to take the bubba in to the Emergency room to get his airway open again. Good thing they didn't make us pay our co-pay then and there - it's steep (don't you hate when your next paycheck is already totally spoken for?)... The Doctor and Nurses that helped us out were great, and the good news is, is that I got him in before it got too scary this time. It was old hand for us - we have been through this before and knew to watch for stridor and the skin sucking in with his breaths at the sternum and adams apple. The nurse gave me a great pat on the back. I just wished that we didn't have to go through this again at all.

So the girls are home from school, bundled in blankets, playing games on the ipod, watching shows and taking it very easy. They want to be in their full health for the upcoming festivities of Halloween... Star Wars costumes and pumpkin pictures to ensue.

I am just busy eating beef jerky, writing papers, reading textbooks, and trying my best to keep us all alive. Still trying to stay away from sugar. Wonderful, horrible, poisonous, delicious Sugar. This time of year is more challenging, but I think I'll make it through. I've had some strange dizzy spells. Bad vertigo that makes my eyeballs wiggle, and I feel so nauseated that I vomit. I don't know whats causing it, but it could be a number of things, and all likely are no big deal. So I hope. I hate hearing the MS talk come up again, when I thought we for sure had resolved it! It really is quite miserable to feel super dizzy, so I hope that it goes away and doesn't come back. Ever. I'm sick of paying Doctor co-pays too.
As the fall wraps up, and winter looms, I'm daydreaming about snorkeling off the coast of Belize, rolling in the ocean waves, and watching my loves ride 4-wheelers in the desert...

Mended Mango

2011-10-19T10:15:00.000-06:00

I just realized that I never posted a picture of that tiny little cast that miss mango wore for a few weeks. She was honestly such a good sport about it. Better than even I was, because I grew quite tired of her stepping on my feet and toes with that cast on. The first time she stepped on my toes with the big clunky cast, it felt like someone dropped a cinder block on my foot. I went cross-eyed and was frothing at the mouth - sputtering to even make a peep. "YEEEEEEEEEOW!" was commonly heard in this house with her tromping around in that cast.

An up close shot of the bone crusher...

She got good and running around on that little peg-leg - because the Doctor made the mistake of saying she didn't have to use her crutches if she didn't want to.

The time came for her to get it cut off - and man was that buzz saw loud! The other two children couldn't handle it so they went for a little walk out in the hall until it was all done. Her leg was thin, weak, and the skin was grey and a bit scaly. After she got the cast off, they took an xray to make sure it was fully healed. She got a handful of stickers, a lollipop, and we were off.

She limped on in for a couple of weeks, but she is doing really well now. Like I said, she was a really great sport about the entire ordeal. She rarely ever complained of pain, or itchiness, even though we know it did. She didn't let it slow her down at all, and it made me happy to see that strength in her. Love that girl...

Closer to Fine.

2011-10-18T12:36:00.031-06:00

I have been sober for three weeks now. I was heavily involved in a relationship with my dark master - Chocolate. Sugar has been my drug of choice for so many years. I'm not sure when it came to be... Perhaps it was when I felt alone and learned that sugar never betrayed me or talked back. It always was there and made me feel better. Or maybe it was when I told myself "self, you're never going to do cocaine, heroin or any drug... lets find an alternative though, because life seems to be a bit too hard for you to handle sometimes..."
Feeling ashamed that I was struggling a bit more than the average person with the simple day to day life - I didn't want anyone to know that I was so weak. I've always been one to deconstruct my words and actions day to day. I have never been the type to be able to say "this is me, take it or leave it" no matter how hard I tried. I found myself always analyzing a conversation afterward ending up in the fetal position under the covers - mortified because of all the stupid things I thought I said or did. So I guess I turned to Carrot Cake. Cheesecake. Chocolate cake. Cupcakes. You get the picture. Because cake is the food of the Gods, and it understands. When it is accompanied with ice cream - I can hear angels sing.

I have blogged about my battle with my weight and food time and time again. I've made it clear that I know what to eat, how much to eat, how to exercise, and that I could possibly be an author of such a book someday. I've heard many well-intentioned people try to inspire me and educate me with their own knowledge and success, as if I don't know what to do. I've tried a million diets and reading a million books and magazines, hoping one of them had the magical answer of what would finally click and make me overcome my weakness. The weakness that more feels more of an addiction.

Each diet, book, pill, or program I have tried doing - I go into with high hopes of finally overcoming it all and being able to finally like the person I've hated seeing in the mirror for the last decade or so. I know I have lied to myself and made all of my issues look like it's all about the weight. It's certainly not. I know if I woke up tomorrow being a trim size 6, I would still be me. Insecurities, self loathing and all. It sounds awful, but it's the truth. It's the truth that I've been running from, that no matter what I do, if I have some good days or get to a place in my life where I'm doing pretty good sometimes, when I struggle with depression somewhere down the road - I decided that food was my best medicine.

A few weeks ago I decided for me I was going to get out of the vicious cycle of the sweet/salty cravings. You know - you eat salty then you crave sugar... you eat sugar and then you want salty. I stopped eating the sugar. For the first week or so I was angry at the world. It's been hard. Realllllly hard. But I knew I had to start somewhere.

I am motivated by the feeling that the kindest thing I can do for my children I love and adore so much is to be the best version of me that I can be. Be a great example of what a healthy self-concept is as a woman in this world. I do not want to teach my girls that their self esteem comes from a successful diet, or a certain size. I do not want to teach them to value perfection and flawlessness. I do not want them to think that they cannot share their feelings and be honest.

I feel a strong resolve to change, but I've felt this way before. I know I could just fall back into it in a matter of moments. I have heard that we make over 200 decisions per day regarding our consumption of food. Yes, no wonder we all have a preoccupation - hunger is a physical need we all try to overcome. I don't pretend to be the only one that struggles with this as every person has to eat to live, and I know many people are overweight. I just see my own struggle with emotional and compulsive eating for what it is, how sensitive I am about it, and work every day to overcome it.

I guess I am at the point where I am not looking for the right book or advice - I am looking at why I have carried this weight around for as long as I have. Why I try to escape from my feelings. The answers are inside of me - not out in the world. Lots of empty hope out there in the world that the answer might be in the Shape magazine at the checkout, or at the bottom of that milkshake I just had to have. By making the choice to pass on Desserts, I know that I still may not even lose much weight. I guess just taking the step to serve myself better instead of serving the dark master that is sugar, I hope to grow more and make my peace with food. It's the hardest thing for me to wage this battle on a daily basis.

I have rewritten this post what feels like a hundred times, because I am so sensitive about being overweight and even having to struggle with this. It's like I don't want the world to know, but it's the big giant elephant in the room for me. (no puns here, people!) I know I am not alone with this struggle, even though it really feels like it quite often. This is something I have to take day by day, and sometimes moment, by agonizing moment. I know many people just don't get it. Just can't understand how someone can actually get fat. I just have to dust off my self esteem, my sense of humor and try not to worry about the rest of the world and what they think of me - even though that is really, truly hard for me. I was just listening to the song by the Indigo Girls "Closer I am to fine". I really heard the words in the chorus of the song and I had to smile. The more I live my life, the closer I am to "fine".

Dry as a bone.

2011-09-21T16:48:00.000-06:00

I know what time of year it is when I see the bags of candy corns littering the aisles of the stores I frequent. I also know because I am scrambling back to the Pharmacy section to try a different pill that may actually work for my allergy to Sagebrush. I wake up every morning with a violent sneezing fit with copious amounts of draining, itching, and hacking. I should love this time of year, but with my allergies, and the impending death of vegetation and onslaught of white stuff - the crap I lovingly call "schyte" and you may call it snow - yes this makes it less enjoyable.

I spent some time outside yesterday and the sun felt warm on my back, and I longed for a book to read and a tall glass of brown bubbly to accompany me no this fine afternoon. The kids slid down slides, swung on swings, and the girls played with a friend. The little dude came over and showed me his new treat he found on the ground. "DELICIOUS!' I hissed... Why oh why do you have to put everything in your mouth?!? I let this kid out and he's like a scavenger.. trolling the premises for abandoned candies and trying to find ways to escape without me noticing. *exhale huge sigh*

I have heard many times in sermons, classes, motivational speakers and books, that in order to be a good wife, mother, friend, and such - you must first fill your own proverbial pitcher so that you can fill the cups of those around you. In lay terms, I guess it suggests that with all the demands from you to give, give, give, and keep giving, you must first take time for yourself to fill the well before it's run dry...
Huh. I was just thinking today about how I feel as though my well was run dry some time ago. I don't even know what to do for myself. Many times lately I feel as though I don't even know who I am, and wonder if the person I used to be is anywhere in sight. What do I do for myself anyway? It seems like even water costs money. Time is money. I guess I felt I wasn't worth it. Me - who made this choice to become a Mother - and I wouldn't choose to undo that choice, ever.
Everyone says this is a hard time of life - to be doing nothing of real consequence daily besides be there for my kids every day. No Paychecks... No thank you's. I have to be real with myself here and say that this is not always what I thought it was going to be. Perhaps a little more glamorous. Perhaps a little more easy. I didn't realize that there is no time card to clock out with in Mothering. A small break to the store or a meeting is nothing near feeling "off the clock" in this job. It has taken every ounce of energy, and pushed through the bounds of emotional, spiritual, and mental capacity. They don't call Motherhood the badge of honor for nothing. It is compared to waging a WAR that you never know if you will win in the end. Where lives depend on you, where things can get gritty, and where things can get ugly. War has never been depicted as pleasantly perfect in every way. War can be savage, life altering, messy, and even deadly. However, it is with war where Hero's are found. Those that remain on the outskirts and choose to not get involved in the war do not earn the medals that can come in no other way.

I don't see what I do as being petty, political, or nonsensical. I know that going to battle doesn't always make sense to everyone else in the world, but it makes sense to me. I know that the old person in me is likely forever gone. And that's okay, really. I can't always make sense of my life from day to day, why I worry about simple things like books, school, and piano lessons. Molding and shaping my children is not the only thing happening - it's molding and shaping Me, too. I'm continuing to grow and learn just as my children are. My body has it's battle wounds - showing it's sacrifice to bring life to this world. I haven't earned any awards, have my name on a plaque, or have any accomplishments under my name that matter. All that matters is that I commit every day to being a Private-First Class, on the front lines of this battle called Motherhood.

LOIS!!!!!

2011-09-01T15:29:00.003-06:00

Oh, Hi. I forgot aobut you my sweet little blog. I don't pay much attention to you anymore, and I'm sure you're feeling neglected, you poor wasted internet space. Don't worry though, I'll never quit you. I don't care for backstory or an apology of why people don't blog much anymore, so I will spare you, my little blog, the details of why I don't log in to blogger and type up my feelings as much as I used to. Let's just pretend like we're best friends and can pick up right where we left off last time, mmmkay? Thanks bloggy blog...

Anyway, I like to pretend like the world cares about my GPA, since school and Mothering take up 99.9% of my life, it's just been easy to assume that I can just say "School is going ok, the children are driving me crazy... Whats new with you?"

Speaking of going crazy, my son now gets about 3 hours less sleep daily since he figured out how to climb out of his crib. So what used to be 12 hours of sleep, he is waking up and hour and a half earlier, AND waking everyone else up. Also, what used to be my saving grace was his naptime; 1-4 pm every afternoon. He's been waking up around 2:30 now. I can't help but groan when he wakes up so soon now. He is overly busy lately too - getting into things and making huge messes. It's so frustrating, because I know my sweet, fun, happy boy is in there somewhere. I am at a loss. He keeps coming up to me and doing this:

Good times... The kid constantly wants my attention - he just doesn't know what for. I have to follow him around and he still manages to create utter chaos. This kid loves to run away from me in public, dump food out of the fridge, get into my makeup, hit his sisters, and just be little turkey! I need a manual for this one....

Pause for a little "break".

2011-08-18T01:00:00.001-06:00

I am pushing the pause button on the life remote right now to blog.
It may or may not be enjoyable...

The other day I got sick. I get sick just about every single month. It usually coincides with the cycle that I have come to celebrate and dread. Dread because it's awful, painful, and I usually get sick... and celebrate because it means I can sleep at night knowing I'm not creating any more spawn that I can't handle.

I just finished up this semester. I ruined my perfect 4.0 streak. I got an A-. I am surprised at how ticked I am that I got that minus after that A. I didn't know that I could actually work this hard and pull off good grades at a University. Not without any stress and late night cussing at the computer screen. All in good fun though, right? Riiiiiiiiight.

So the other night, my sweet little girl - middle child - decided that she would go down a fun fire pole just ONE MORE TIME before we left. Apparently, much to my demise, she had already been going down even though I said NO. (We all means NO = sure kay fine do whatever you want anyway). I was practically sleeping on the kitchen table with a fever, aches, pains, and normal grouchiness - when I heard a large thunk, thud, boom, bang, screech, and cries. Husband started apologizing to the fallen child and scooped her up - she was screaming. I instinctively felt like something was wrong and I got angry. Crap like this happens - always when it's too late, you're too tired, and you just take one more run. Right? Think about it - skiing, boating, snowboarding - you always got hurt your last run, right? Anyways, enough about me trying to be right and prove a point. I'll continue to be right though I guess, because the following day I saw her limping and I knew she wasn't faking. I was a big time faker and know the signs. She wasn't faking. She couldn't bear weight on her tiny little foot.
THIS, is the fire-pole. Not sure if you can tell how far of a drop that is or whatever...

Feisty kid said nothing was wrong and that she wasn't going to the Doctor, and that she was - in fact - going to kindergarten. I stood on the porch and watched her walk out to the carpool spot, and my heart ached as she limped the whole way. I took her out of school for her appointment and she was not happy. OH WELL child, mommy knows best. We got to wait in the Peter Pan room.

Then they took pictures of her tiny little foot.

Then we waited some more. Oh well, at least it was in the Peter Pan room. I was really into this room.

I was spacing out, wondering if I could ever do a mural like this when the Dr. came in.
I looked at her xray's with the Doc and we could see one of the bones didn't look right, but she said we'd let the Radiologist read the films and let us know. 2 hours later we got the call they found a fracture in her tiny little foot (tiny, did I mention it is just so tiny?? It is.) He said to not bear any weight on it, get crutches, and keep it in the soft post-op boot until they cast it. *GROAN* Yes.
Who makes a 5 year old wait 5-7 days to cast their foot? Seriously - she's probably done more damage in the last 2 days because she wont stop walking on her foot. So tomorrow is day 5 and she gets her cute tiny little foot put in a cast.

You should have seen the kids when she got to school with her wee little crutches. They swarmed around her and asked her the same questions at the same time. She doesn't like attention (yet - she is my child and she will someday like attention) so this part embarrassed her a little, but she handled it really well. The second she got her crutches handed to her she knew exactly what to do and everyone is so proud. Me especially. She just wants to go on with life as normal, but there is a bit of a slight problem there... SHE BROKE HER FOOT.

I can't wait to see what color she chooses. I even heard that they have waterproof casts now. We may even have to bedazzle her cast and decorate her crutches, just for fun.... They will be her new companions for a little while.

I told you she was scrumptious. All 42 inches of her.

Making the cut.

2011-07-08T12:14:00.001-06:00

After I gave birth to middle child, I didn't cut my hair for years. It went from super short crop cut around my ears, to super long locks in just a few years.
Well, I decided I had enough of the long hairville, and wanted to get back to pixieville.

So, I looked at some pictures, called up a dear friend, and conned her into squeezing me in. Yes, I am one of those annoying people that as soon as I make a decision, I want it done right then and there. She is a saint and had mercy upon me and my demon child that wreaked havoc on her house while she patiently snipped away. She did a wonderful job and I couldn't be happier.

before...

the band-aid theory - one swift movement and it's off.

the pro at work...

during the cut n' style...

AFTER!

...aaaaand some unplanned cleavage for the cam. I should have winked!
Of course, the hair is going to locks of love, where else? It's a new chapter in my life. All I need is the minivan!

Tan lines.

2011-07-08T12:01:00.004-06:00

Enjoying Summertime...

Dreaming of backyard barbeques, corn on the cob, fresh berries and melon.. cold salads, warm cookies, sour lemonade, and cool breezes. Summer is finally here, and we are enjoying the simplicity of sleeping in, stomping in puddles at the splash park, putting aloe on our sunburns, and taking naps in the afternoon with the hum of the air conditioner.

I love that the sunsets look more amazing, the thunderstorms more powerful, and the nighttime is more romantic than any other time of year. I love the beauty of the earth in full swing of summer. The cascading waterfalls, the majestic sandstone at Lake Powell, and the patriotic colors flying as people sit in the shade of trees and smell the honeysuckle in bloom. Fresh tomatoes off the vine, still warm from the sun, and the amazingly long sunny days that are so inviting to go be one with nature.

This year, aerial fireworks were legalized where we live, so it was like a huge array of professional firework displays all around us. Mother nature chimed in and flashed her own blaze of lightning and thunder. We stayed out until the rain was falling, and wind picked up. It was a lovely Independence Day.

During the summer, we also get to celebrate some of our Birthdays. Our young buck celebrated his 2nd birthday a few weeks ago, and tomorrow our firstborn celebrates her 7th. SEVEN - wow. Have I really been a mother that long? One would think with the experience of seven years and three children I would be a better mother by now. Oh well, I'm sure with all my imperfections, the good Lord will keep me here much longer to work at it...

Here is bucky buck enjoying his ~~shenanigans~~ Celebrations.

This is what he does with his face now when we say Cheeeeeeeeeese!!!!!

Digging in to his football cake!

Firstborn on her final day of school. Welcome summer!!

Reality Check.

2011-06-13T15:44:00.003-06:00

It's been quite some time since I sat down and just wrote. Well, for myself. Not for some pompous University professor- focusing on margins and fonts. I realized today that I really want to remember this time in my life - remember my feelings and what has been the reality of my life in 2011. The reality is, is that it's been a really, really tough year. I think back over even the past 12 months and see the bumpy road it's been and honestly - I'm just glad it's behind us.
I'm going to be straightforward with myself about what I've learned. Fantasy vs. Reality. So down the road I can look over this and remember what this past year of blood sweat and tears has taught me.

The fantasy of a commission only job is that you have the potential to make so much money. You can get filthy rich doing it. If you're lucky. For us, the reality was uglier than homemade soup. We have scraped by these past 12 months. We made sacrifices and tried to make it work. It has felt like a total emotional roller coaster, never knowing what the future held.

I've contemplated going back to school for years, and that fantasy is that I would be so smart that I will just fly right through the classes, now that I'm older and more mature - hey I said it was a fantasy. While the reality is that although I've gotten straight A's so far, it's been because of a lot of good old fashioned studying and hard work. There is no luck in grades - it's effort. The fantasy was that I would just do my schoolwork while my overactive toddler was napping daily. But the reality is, I really enjoy this time to do all sorts of things like Facebook, chat on the phone, nap, and bake stuff to ensure that I keep my butt really big. I end up studying around the clock, whenever I feel like I have a half hour to delve into a text and pound it into my brain.

For the past 3 months, we decided to try to find the husband a job back in Southern Utah because we both want to be back down there so bad. We love it there - it is home to us. I was born and raised there and this just doesn't feel like home to me. The fantasy was, was that husband would be able to get this one job that he applied for back in March - a great Management position. It took 2 and half months for them to go through the interview process for several individuals, and it was down to deciding between these last 2 guys. Husband was one of them. I looked for housing every day. I looked for other jobs there, but they are scarce. Everything was always "well, if we move..." Our lives were up in the air for nearly 3 months. After praying, pleading, and practically having nervous breakdowns every other day because it was taking so long... He got an email - yes, super classy - no? an email saying that after careful consideration, they went with the other guy. That day I tried to be strong. I tried to look like I knew it all along that it woudln't be so easy. The reality was, I got in the shower and sobbed for over a half hour, feeling like I had to scrape myself up off the floor and go out and face the world again. I kid you not - if someone would've put a narcotic in front of me that day, I would've eaten it, snorted it, sucked on it... I could not escape the pain that jolted me to the core. I could only imagine what husband was feeling (although husband is much less dramatic than me). Also, he's much more resilient and positive! Surprise, surprise. He's Superman. Of course he was bummed. He came home and it looked like the glimmer in his eyes was gone. The anxiety was eating us up, and we could barely speak to each other without sounding bleak and miserable for a few days.

All I have to do is just think about reality and it is like a wildfire out in the dry, dry desert. The parched brush being engulfed in flames and spreading a mile a minute - it's like the panic that spreads across my body and settles in my stomach. I can feel a frown on my face. I go outside and face the sunshine. My eyes close and I feel the warmth permeate me.

My heart sobbed inside of me for days, and it felt as though I couldn't console myself. What was he going to do? We couldn't make this work anymore. Although he has his Bachelors degree, was he going to go back to school for training for a better job? I looked for jobs too, but for me with 2 children in daycare, actually three every 10 weeks because of year round school - it is not even an option to make it financially feasible. I have felt so helpless. So scared for our future. So sad that I still remain so far away from my family.

I have been praying so hard. Spending nights soaking my pillow, fretting over finances, health, home, and happiness. It is said that women do most of the mental work in relationships - worrying over these things, so it really should come as no surprise to me - but still... I am the type of gal that still wonders every 28 days or so why I feel so dang psycho and then all the sudden..... Boom - oh PMS. Really? You'd think after nearly 20 years of this I'd get used to that. I'm just not a very quick learner...

So the fantasy is, is that someday soon, husband will be doing something that he loves and will actually get a paycheck for it.
The reality is, is that even if he doesn't - what we have is really all that truly matters. We have Us. We have our Marriage... our friendship... our relationship... We have our bond that holds strong even through money, health, stress, and humility. We have the 3 children that are reminders of our love and our sacrifices every single day. It brings me to tears just thinking of all the ways that they bring joy to our lives. Sure, I realize that instead, I could be a successful career woman, traveling the world, getting my hair done, shopping at nice stores, and actually have some money in my pocket - yes a fantasy... but that is not what I chose. Even though sometimes I have to remind myself that I get to live in reality, and that reality actually makes me Human. Imperfect. Flawed. Stressed. Depressed.
Yes, all those things. But it also makes me perfected in He who makes all this possible. Our Creator. He doesn't care if I wear Jimmy Choo's, carry a Coach bag, and make six figures a year. He doesn't judge me for being overweight, having stretch marks, and lots of grey hairs in my early 30's. He for sure doesn't judge me for wearing Walmart clothes and flip-flops, and watering my flowers in my bathrobe. All He wants is for me to just turn to Him. I know that this is reality - MY reality. It may sound cliche that I would want to feel more spiritual during these times, but honestly - there is only so much Xanax in the world... I am going through the refiners fire. When we go through the furnace and the heat is on, like a fine silver - it is purified... refined.

Reality, checked.

Open letter to my Son.

2011-05-31T12:12:00.001-06:00

Dear young son,
I know that you are nearing your 2nd birthday, but you've been exhibiting the "terrible two's" behavior for quite some time now. Just wanted to let you know that I love you, and I'm so happy you are part of our family. But I am ready for you to grow out of a few things....
Namely, the fact that when you are done eating, you actually don't have to push your plate far, far away from yourself, preferably in front of me. I don't want your leftovers. You know what else? If you don't want to eat something, don't try to put it on my plate, and please, PLEASE for the love of all that's holy, don't spit out a bite of food on MY plate.

When you want a drink, please don't go open the dishwasher and jump on the open door to get to the cups. Please use the cup you already have, with a lid - full of nice fresh water just for you. Please stop pushing the chairs over to the counters, and the water that comes out of the fridge? Yeah, NO. Thats not a toy.
While we're addressing things that are not toys - please stop putting your hands down my shirt. Especially in public!! You are to be respectful of things like that young man...

I love your huge smile, and I love that you are wanting to clean it now with your toothbrush. Please, please stop emptying out the toothpaste, soap, and anything else in reach. It's cute that you like to spit, just like sisters do when they are brushing, but please don't spit on ME.

Finally, my young man, my little dude, the little bull in our household... PLEASE stop screaming that ear-piercing scream that people can hear in Texas. My poor delicate eardrums have been assaulted one too many times, and your scream makes me think violent thoughts. I love your guts more than you'll ever know. I adore you - even when you grab my face and make me kiss your dirty face.
That - I'll never tire of.

Love always,
Mom

Covered in Ganache.

2011-05-19T10:55:00.001-06:00

When I dont have anything relevant to share on my blog, I share random pictures of my family being geeks. Todays edition is "Fun with cutouts".
This is about 3 years ago.

This is 2 weeks ago. I celebrated another birthday by playing cosmic mini golf, arcade games, and chocolate cake. We took this prized beauty photograph for posterity's sake....

Oh and my cake - it was covered in chocolate ganache. Heaven!

Always take pictures.

2011-04-27T12:43:00.000-06:00

We went to the beach. Good thing I took pictures because it feels like it was just a dream.

You know when you shouldn't go anywhere because you have no time, money, and just can't justify going? Yeah, we went anyway because we needed it more than anyone could ever imagine. We needed to be somewhere else where we could sit and listen to the ocean sloshing on the sand, or the loud obnoxious laughter of family members, and consume pizza with my sisters, and the kids playing so hard with cousins they hardly come up for air. We needed to forget about the stinging pain in the pit of our stomachs when the thoughts of lifes stresses for just a few days. We needed to cram our family of 5 into a smallish sedan and drive 11 hours just to catch this view...

I am not sure if down the road I will be happy with many of the decisions I made in my life, but I'm pretty sure I will have been happy to make spending time with my kids, husband, and family as often as I can.
I spend a lot of my time talking to people. I love talking to my sisters and friends and so I make time for it. I am a talker. Much of what I say and people must think is "I didn't need to know that but thanks for telling me anyway..." They humor me so much. I complain about obnoxious TV shows my kids like to watch. I obsess over music. I talk about the crappy weather 9 months out of the year. I exchange recipes, compare notes, and I really also try to just listen. Connecting with people is one of the biggest needs that I have. I get lonely if I don't. I just feel bad for the people that have to pull out my meat-hooks when I'm being needy. Have you ever noticed those people that you hardly know that want to tell you about their childhood, and process their deep thoughts when you bump into them at the grocery store? Wow, I just came for some eggs and bread. I knew I shouldn't have taken the aisle to adore the cookies. Me of all people should know that this is the section that people bee-line to when they are in the throes of depression...
They are so desperate for attention that they pay no mind to your screaming child and your attempts to depart. They just keep telling you about their problems, and by this time you are ready to just open up the Oreos and start eating. Not that I would know from experience or anything. But the worst part is after you have already said your fond farewells, and you bump back into them in the frozen food section. Curses for even thinking about ice cream. It's the drug of choice for the chronically stressed. After another 20 minute therapy session by the Ben and Jerry's, you are contemplating the risk of being rude or faking a seizure to get away.

Again, not that I would know any of this from experience...

Where was I? Oh yes, the beach. It really is great therapy to go to one of your favorite places when life is too much. I highly recommend it. So to recap: Laughter is the best medicine. Thai Food also helps - oh did I not mention that? Well, it is pretty magical. Avoid the "drug aisles" at the store if you are not up for conversation. When all feels lost, get in the car and go where you can make peace with your maker.

Coming up for AIR.

2011-04-18T14:03:00.000-06:00

Oh do I have a blog? I guess I forgot for a while. Pardon me, but I seem to wake up and eat a big huge bowl of stupid every morning lately.
Plus I'm still a student at a University.
My first semester back in a while and it made me quite busy, and quite neurotic. I simply can't believe that the semester is drawing to a close. I've spent so much time writing papers and reading, taking quizzes, and posting crap to make sure that I pass these classes, I've nearly neglected everything else in my life.
I almost forgot that I have 3 kids, too. ALMOST.

I just wanted to be sure to thank those of you that contributed to the Trish fund, you all are saints and may God bless you in your life. Really, a million thank you's. Hugs and sloppy kisses.

So the every day stuff in life still occurs for me, beyond the school stuff at least. I wasn't sure much would change, but it has. But beyond the school stuff, life is just plain stressful. I just can't believe the high levels of stress that my body has been carrying through these last few weeks especially. If you've ever felt unsure about your career path, then you have been in this boat that the husband and I are sitting in. Paddling upstream. Without life preservers. And huge heavy weights. And holes in the boat. And bamboo chutes for paddles. And the stream is torrential. And... well, you probably get the picture.

On the bright side, I am pretty sure that I've mastered the art of starting things and never finishing them. Oh, and I've definitely gotten good at making plans, then derailing by noon. I must have really enjoyed school this semester, because my house has also aquired a huge layer of dust and grime. I found sticky handprints, pen scribbles, and an almost unrecognizable old banana peel when I attempted cleaning last week. Gross is an understatement when describing my abode. Pretty sure my husband is going to FIRE me soon, but in the meantime, he is swapping laundry tips with the other housewives in the neighborhood... He's a saint I tell ya.
Don't worry though, I can cook - so he ain't goin anywhere til he's ready to starve. His place of employment would also know something is up, because he takes my food there. Either we're dieting or the husband has gone off to find a real wife that cleans up after her cooking and changes her baby out of his pajamas sometime before dinner.

What I've gained from this semester really, is that family relationships are very fragile. In all seriousness, I am truly grateful for the little clan of mutated cave-people I have created, and that they still for some reason love me, and sometimes even like me.
Here are some pictures of whats been going on in their lives lately.

The kid is constantly eating. He's happy when what he's eating tastes good.

I gave the girls pedicures one night. We watched a movie, ate popcorn, and I scrubbed their little feet and painted their toenails. Thats like a once a year thing for sure. (Boy child kept sloshing around in the water. Gross.)

Firstborn went to a birthday party at a beauty school where they got all done up - even the nails painted and we quickly removed the grown up look (after snapping a picture of course). It was a little too much fun for her. We can't have too much fun - just little increments. Right?

Mango celebrated another birthday - one year older and wiser too! She is seriously at a really fun age right now, and I am loving how fun and helpful she is (except when she is tormenting the bubba boy.)

Caramelized sugar and other naughty words... Cinnamon Bubble Buns

2011-04-02T18:35:00.003-06:00

My BFF got me a subscription to Family Fun magazine as a gift (thoughtful, eh?) and there is this really delicious recipe in the March issue for Cinnamon Bubble Buns. Since I am a total carb addict and this was involving bread and sugar - I had to partake. I knew that I was planning to cut way back on those 2 main sources of heroin-like substances, I figured what a wonderful time to splurge and make them. Also, there is a spectacular "comfort food" quality about butter, cinnamon, and liquid sugar, surrounding a lovely fluffy dough, all baked up to a sugar freaks delight!
It is very similar to Butterscotch Monkey bread, but you bake them in cupcake tins! And drizzle them with the liquid sugar! How splendid! **I know, I have a real problem....**

The recipe is for a dough from scratch, but I am sure that you can use Rhoades Rolls, or your own quick recipe with quick rise yeast - like the Pantry Secrets bread recipe. I love the Pantry Secrets bread classes by the way - easiest loaf of bread you'll ever make!
When you bake these up, you will simply delight in the aroma that fills your home, permeating your senses until you are drunk off the fumes of sugar - caramelizing.
It's darn near close to be fuud fer trappin a huzband.

OK, so if you don't have a copy of the Family Fun Magazine handy, HERE is the recipe.

PS - Shameless groveling here... Don't forget to donate a few dollars to my lovely friend Trish that just got diagnosed with the dreaded cancer. Her family can use all the help they can get!

A way to contribute!

2011-03-28T14:25:00.000-06:00

My friend Trish has cancer. Whats unique about this situation is that she is also pregnant and cannot begin treatment until after she has the baby. She and her husband are also parents to 6 other beautiful children. Trish is an amazing mom, so patient and kind and loving. They can use all the help they can get, so please - even if it's a $5 donation - Chip in! Every little bit helps. Thanks!

Fundraising 101

2011-03-23T14:04:00.000-06:00

So due to the underwhelming lack of participation for the auction (FAIL!) I am not going to move forward with it. I did receive an email from one very kind person (not to take away from her generosity!), but that was it concerning the auction. I thought I would just take a chance with it, but since I only have a bout 4.2 readers, I am not quite sure what I was expecting.

Trish is still very sick, and I still want to try to make something happen. Two people have very generously donated cash to my paypal account. This got me to thinking that this just might be the easiest idea I've had yet:

All I ask is a $5 donation - thats it! You can do that! Thats cheaper than a value meal at Wendy's! I am shamelessly asking for money - I get it. But please, find it in your heart to log into your Paypal account and donate at least just five dollars. Think how it can add up!

So we are still moving forward with a fundraising effort - I am not going to leave my paypal account info right here, but you can leave a comment or email me at plainjame (at) hotmail (dot com).

Fear is not an option. Does anyone have a sedative?

2011-03-23T13:49:00.001-06:00

Most of my fourth grade year, kids in my class kept going into the bathrooms and doing the "Bloody Mary" thing. There was a girl a year older than me that intimidated me. As any 5th grader wearing hot pink lipstick should. She was obsessed with doing it. She even turned off the lights one time while I was in a stall doin my business and started shouting it really loud and creepy. STOP! we all shouted.

I started holding my pee for when I got home. Just to be safe.

Over 10 years ago, I worked at a youth program where I had to sleep there overnight in the halls outside my girls bedrooms. On a mattress. On the floor. There was a night-watch lady that was hired to work there, that had a grandmother that was rumored to have passed away there years before it was a youth center for troubled teens. By the last night of my 4 day shift, I was always quite delirious. By the time I fell asleep I was totally wiped out, and I crashed. One particular night, there had been some stories told and I was feeling a bit skiddish. It was my last night and I crashed hard on my little mattress. The night watch woman was an odd duck, with a fetish for romantic novels and had such an eating disorder she resembled Skeletor. She was doing her rounds and tripped over an edge of my mattress in the hallway. Her flashlight dropped to the ground and she bent over to pick it up near my head and as I was startled all I saw was a zombie lunging for me. I screeched and screamed and woke up most people in the building. I was horrified until I saw how horrified she was and I remembered where I was. I was waiting for the other staff to come haul me off with pitchforks.

I have never been one to enjoy anything supernatural. It may have been the fact that I watched Poltergueist and The Changeling at a tender age. One time I got so freaked out being alone in the house in the evening, imagining a tiny golden empty wheelchair would appear in the doorway at any minute, that by the time my parents got home every single light was on in the house and I had run outside and climbed up in our tree. As they pulled into the driveway, I hopped down, as they're mere presence made everything better. They asked what I was doing and I shrugged and said I got scared.

One night, I laid on their bed all alone, watching TV shows waiting for someones arrival. The phone rang. I was deep into a show so I jumped as it startled me. No one was there. The phone rang again. I picked it up and a creepy stale voice said "I know what you're doing." I bantered back, dismissing the voice's attempts to make me scared.
Then it said "I can see you. You're sitting up on the bed watching TV."
I froze. I couldn't even speak. A chill ran up my spine like electricity. I ran into a tiny room off my parents bedroom and I hid in their clothes. I went to the window and pulled the drapes closed. Then I started running around the house turning on every single light, making sure every corner of the main floor was illuminated. I stared down the dark stairs and I couldn't bring myself to go down into the basement. I started calling around for my parents or sisters to come home. I was frantic, and I couldn't handle being alone one more minute. What seemed like hours went by before someone arrived. I had climbed up onto the top shelf of the linen closet. With a dull steak knife.
Suddenly the house wasn't all that scary anymore once I was not alone. I calmed down and went downstairs to watch a show on TV.....Where I discovered one of my older sisters had been there all along with her door shut and music quietly playing - the entire evening.

PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

2011-03-10T10:45:00.003-07:00

Last week I was thoroughly enjoying my fantastic news. I was elated to find that I didn't in fact have a debilitating lifelong disease eating away at my brain. It was as if life was suddenly back to regularly scheduled programming in just one flip of a switch. I got my great news, why was no one else around me getting any? Which brings me to what happened next.

Life seems to get really complicated when you demand it be fair, or when you expect things to make sense.

I got a text from a dear friend of mine saying that she had experienced yet another miscarriage. Imagine the rare instance that your fertility allows you to get pregnant, and the few times in your years of trying you do, you have heart crushing blows when you miscarry time and time again. I am devastated for her. My heart broke, and I was short of anything to say...
Then, over the weekend I found out that another friend of mine has cancer. It's not just the type of cancer that can immediately start being treated vigorously. You see, she has 6 cute kids, and is PREGNANT and has cancer. Yes - she's one of those Angel-ladies that is a sweet, kind, selfless and loving mother that could just keep having babies if God let her. Trish is about 17 weeks along - nearly halfway - with a healthy beautiful baby growing inside her. She went in for her lab work at the first OB appointment last month, thinking "Geez, I've never been this sick! I bet I'm having twins!" Her bloodwork was flagged and she went in for further testing confirming what they feared the most.
Leukemia.
They did a bone marrow aspiration the following week and found that it was 80% infected in the bone.
Devastating news.
Her congregation has been fasting and praying for her. She's a very modest woman and doesn't like the spotlight at all. She doesn't like a fuss being made over her. She is humble and sweet. Her Husband has been in school and so their finances are dry, and the bottom line is things are bleak. They don't have the extra funds to even celebrate birthdays, and things like that. I am not saying this to expose their financial situation and embarrass them - I say this to put things into perspective that so many people take for granted. I'm sure they could use some assistance.

That is why I want to do whatever I can to help, and if my friends and family are the amazing people I think they are - this desire and compassion will surely spread like wildfire.
So here is what I'm going to do. I am going to ask for donations of Items to be auctioned off. These items can be goods, OR services that you offer. The goods should be new and not used. It can be a massage, handcrafted jewelry, a photography package, a gift basket, anything really. These items should not be something you don't want - like junk. They should be something you would like yourself. Something the general public would like to bid on. It can be a handmade Apron, a cute Toy, or a Gift Card to Sephora!

ALL OF THE PROCEEDS OF THE AUCTION WILL GO TO THIS FAMILY. 100%.
My Paypal account is leveled at zero right now, so everything that goes into it, will be given to Trish and her family. I have participated in two charity auctions, and it can be done!

Once I have some items to begin an auction, I will put posts here on my blog for the item up for bid. In the comments, each individual will bid their highest bid. After a week of bidding, the highest bidder will win the item. The highest bidder will then be sent a notification and request for payment to the Paypal Account. (Paypal is the easiest thing in the world to set up. Don't be deterred by it, if you don't already have one. It's fast and free and totally secure. I am willing to help you set it up.)
Side note: I thought about using ebay as an auction site, but the fees for ebay listings, final value amount fees, and the Paypal payment fees, I figured we could save a lot of money by doing a simple auction on my blog. Sending money as a gift through paypal has no fees, or minimal fees.

Please contact me if you have an item you would like to donate for the Auction.
My email address is PlainJame(at)hotmail.com

If you are not really interested in bidding/winning an item in an auction and would like to just donate now through Paypal, or by mailing a check, or by sending a gift card, anything is greatly appreciated and accepted.
Just contact me by emailing me, PlainJame(at)hotmail.com if you would like to get the Paypal account info, a mailing address, or have any questions or comments.

Finally, please share this with everyone you know so we can make this benefit Trish and her Family.
I know this may come off tacky to some people, asking for donations and generosity, but I just can't sit back knowing what I know, and do nothing. If you are like me and are dirt poor and destitute yourself, I firmly believe that a sincere prayer can move a mountain.

Plus, I'm asking nicely. I cannot make anything happen with your help. Please and Thank You!

THIS IS TRISH. Isn't she lovely?

Friday Confessional

2011-03-04T09:06:00.003-07:00

It's Friday and that means it is a perfect time to blog about random things and not feel guilty. Not really anyway.
Link up with the Glamazon and play along if your heart desires!

I confess that I haven't really been blogging much lately, and I hate when people say that. Like we're all waiting around for you? You need to apologize? Really? Really. And I just did it. Mwahahahaha! I haven't been good at reading all the blogs I love to read on my blog roll, and typically when I log in I always have over 400 posts to read...

I am still in school. I didn't drop all my University classes and go back to bed, which surprises me, because I love sleep.
My classes are a bit challenging. Maybe I should go back to community college to sharpen my student skills. Maybe I can get a class with Joel McHale (or should I say Jeff Winger - if this makes no sense to you, move along)...
I confess I lost my mind for a little bit the other day and chopped half my hair off. My super long, super dried out hair that was down to my butt? YES, I have what I consider a bob now. It looks like about a foot of it gone. I've never been one to get emotional about cutting off my hair, but wow, this has been really depressing.
I went in last week to get an MRI because of that issue I told the internets about in my last post. People - It was one of the worst experiences of my life.
Pretty sure it cemented my decision to grow fearful of needles at 32 years of age.
The heartless Tech did the IV contrast and something went wrong. My right ARM got painful, cold, lifeless, and I was screaming for my mommy. T R A U M A T I C. The tech looked at me and I *heard* him roll his eyes. I was too busy planning my funeral.
I am going to write his boss a letter (probably not) and tell him the next time he tells someone emphatically that it really *SHOULDN'T* hurt that bad, he's going to get punched in the junk. I'll be watching him. OK, not really because I can't, but still, he deserves a kick in the pants. Then I'll tell him geez, it really shouldn't hurt that bad, it doesn't hurt me that bad. You?
I anxiously went into my appointment this week with my Neurologist to hear the results. I sat on the edge of the chair because even though I knew that I probably didn't have it, I still was skerd. I was chomping my gum so hard I made my jaw sore.
The Neurologist told me he is about 90% sure I don't have Multiple Sclerosis. I'd like a 100% guarantee, but sure - I'll settle for the high odds. I could've kissed the Troll.
I actually did throw myself a party. It involved Thai food and Donuts. Feel free to party along - I give you permission to enjoy Thai Food and Donuts. Guilt free - if anyone says "Um, thats not part of your diet" tell them to shut up, mind their own beeswax, and you're celebrating some random chicks diagnosis. Be sure to do a happy dance.
He did say I do have some nerve issues going on though. The MRI of my brain looked good, but the MRI of my neck - not as good. He referred me to another Doctor "downtown" and a special nerve test to pinpoint where the nerve issues are stemming from. The road still looks paved in gold now that I know that I do not have MS.
I confess that while he was talking, I was sitting there hearing BLAH BLAH BLAH while I was up in my head having a conversation with myself.... It may or may not have involved Donuts. And Thai Food. And dreaming about test driving a brand new Yukon.
Now I have to cut my internetting short because I have two papers due tomorrow that I've neglected to finish until the last minute. Not too excited to finish the one about Sexual Intimacy. I'm still a little 13 year old boy in some ways I guess. I get embarrassed and giggle inappropriately a little too often at stuff like this.
It's a wonder how I've made it 8 years. Oh yeah my our 8 year anniversary was on Monday and I didn't do a loving mushy gushy post dedicated to my awesome husband. Next time maybe? Is it a sign you've been married long enough that you don't even do it on your anniversary? Wait - MOM and DAD please go wash your eyes. Not that it was a confession, more like an omission, but still. Topical intolerance.
It's also a wonder I find myself raising 3 kids.... How!?!? Don't try to explain how getting pregnant happens. Thats all behind me - remember? This baby factory is CLOSED. Or condemned, however you want to look at it.
Finally, every morning I wake up and say "TODAY IS THE DAY I QUIT EATING SUGAR." I am all pumped, and self important like. Then I get up and get out of bed and have a bowl of cereal. TOMORROW! IT'S THE PERFECT DAY. WAIT, IT'S NOT A MONDAY - I'LL WAIT UNTIL MONDAY. MONDAYS ARE ALWAYS THE BEST DAY TO START AFTER A WEEKEND OF FREEDOM. JUST ONE MORE BATCH OF COOKIES. MUST EAT COOKIES.

Undone.

2011-02-22T15:39:00.003-07:00

I never eat the first 3 pieces of bread in a new loaf. I always open the bag and push aside the first few pieces to take the next 2.
I have a ceramic spoon rest on my stove top to put stirring spoons or spatulas when I'm cooking, but I will set the spatula down beside it, not even using it.
I take a cup of water in with me to the bathroom every single night to take my pills, and they tend to pile up and clutter up the bathroom counter.

I even snore. Gross.

There are things that each of us have in us that show our big and little imperfections. It seems like when there isn't much to fret over in life, we like to look at these little idiosyncrasies and pile them up like dirty laundry. It's funny how when big things come along, it seems to wipe out those small frivolous thoughts, and clean house. Big things to worry about give perspective, like a huge Pink Elephant in a room where you have no time to notice anything else. We are able to plainly see whats important, and feel a distinct clarity.

I have gotten into the habit of frequently assessing everything I haven't yet accomplished, or the things I've yet to do. I dubiously look at these things and feel like nothing is every going to change.
Then one day it does.

I sat on the edge of the couch, blankly staring at the wall one day as I told my husband that I'd been feeling like I wanted to just go to sleep and not wake up. The reality of those words and what they meant hit me with force. I started sobbing. Husband simply said many people feel like this, and he rubbed my back. I talked about my symptoms, the weakness, the pain, and as usual and he nodded and grunted a reply. The next day, the eye pain I had in my right eye had developed to be quite painful and it was really blurring my vision. I ended up going to the Family Doctor and he referred me to a Neurologist. I kept grabbing the phone to cancel my appointment. I wanted to cancel it, but I knew I needed to go.

"Do you understand what I am telling you here?" The Doctor asked as he turned his head down to look at me above his glasses. I just nodded in reply. "I believe your symptoms could be Multiple Sclerosis." He said in his accent. He was clearly born in India. He doesn't look Indian, he looks like a little Troll, I noted.
I blinked.
As I later found myself standing at the counter to pay my co-pay and get instructions about scheduling an MRI, things started to hit me, after nearly 2 hours at the Doctors office. It's not every day someone tells you that it looks like you have MS..... What does this mean for me - my family? All I could think about was the inability to care for my kids... The costs... The spinal tap.
The awful pit in my stomach began to grow. I wanted to talk to everyone I knew to get all the information I could. In true fashion of myself, I came home and immediately started the internet search process. The day was full of information for myself, as I realized that my preconceptions of this disease were way off. In one week, I already feel a huge shift - so much is different, yet so much is still just the same.

I've now had a week for this to sink in. On a daily basis, I've had inner conflict of how possible it is that this could come back negative. I truly, truly wish, hope, and pray it all does. I know that something is off - I can feel it in my bones. If the testing for MS comes back negative, I'll jump for joy and shout it from the rooftops, and push forward to find out what it is. I'll throw a party for myself! There will be much celebration. If it doesn't come back negative... well, it's a starting point. Now I just have to learn how to hurry up and wait. It could take some time for a definitive answer, I have some testing I have to go through first. Patience has never been my strong suit, but someone sure wants me to learn something right now... In the meantime, I'm grateful for everything and everyone I have in my life.

G'day Mate

2011-02-14T14:47:00.001-07:00

I have been pondering the term "mate for life". Some people theorize that every creature on earth was created just simply to survive. Meaning, you, me and even the creatures in the bottom of the sea all just procreate because our programming tells us to.
I believe the idea we weren't meant to be monogamous to be false. I do think there are many creatures, beyond Humans, that feel deeply and have the capacity to Love.

So on this Valentine's Day, I've found some members of the Animal Kingdom that have been found to mate for life. courtesy: mother nature network
The question is - which one are you most like? I think my husband and I are the most like the French Angelfish. Go figure.

Gibbons

Gibbons are the nearest relatives to humans that mate for life. They form extremely strong pair bonds and exhibit low sexual dimorphism, which means that males and females of the species are of roughly equal size, a testament to the fact that both sexes are on relatively equal footing in their relationships.

Swans

Swans form monogamous pair bonds that last for many years, and in some cases these bonds can last for life. Their loyalty to their mates is so storied that the image of two swans swimming with their necks entwined in the shape of a heart has become a nearly universal symbol of love.

Black Vultures

Good looks are not a prerequisite to a faithful relationship. In fact, black vulture society makes sure of that. They have been known to attack other vultures that have been caught philandering!

French Angelfish

You're unlikely to ever find a French angelfish alone — these creatures live, travel and even hunt in pairs. The fish form monogamous bonds that often last as long as both individuals are alive. In fact, they act as a team to vigorously defend their territory against neighboring pairs.

Wolves

Often portrayed as tricksters and con artists in popular folklore, wolves have a family life that is more loyal and pious than most human relationships. Normally, packs consist of a male, a female and their offspring, essentially making wolf packs akin to a nuclear family.

Albatrosses

An albatross may fly great distances over the oceans, but despite its extensive travels, this bird will always return to the same place — and the same partner — when it's time to breed. Pair bonds between males and females form over several years and will last for a lifetime, cemented through the use of goofy but affectionate ritual dances.

Bald eagles

They are the national emblem of the United States, and when it comes to maintaining relationships, bald eagles soar much higher than the country they symbolize. Bald eagles typically mate for life, except in the event of their partner's death or impotency — a number far lower than America's divorce rate, which now exceeds 50 percent.

Medulla oblongata.

2011-02-02T15:38:00.000-07:00

I wonder if other couples talk about the things my husband and I discuss.

When we go on dates, we usually point out the businesses that have closed their doors for good, and discuss what kind of store or restaurant would go the best in it's place. We like to figure out what businesses could do to improve. We usually discuss the work, money, and material things in life, like houses and cars, and our dreams for the future. Pretty harmless stuff. I know.

Then the conversations get even more weird. We quote movies and TV shows. We discuss the likelihood of most women that have had children having at least a few stretch marks and incontinence issues. Sometimes we talk about Phineous and Ferb. Every once in a while, I'll explain in great detail something about my childhood, and towards the end he'll gently remind me I've already told that story. Just last week in fact. I go "I DID?? I DONT REMEMBER THAT".. then I spend the next few moments in silence, pondering my Dementia. Usually the conversation ends up with me talking in a british, latin, or hillbilly accent, usually making the same comments about the same businesses or restaurants on the way back home. "When did that one open?" I'll ask. "Last month - you asked that last time we drove by". A hint of worry or aggravation I detect in his tone. I sit quietly again. Am I driving him crazy? I conclude that I must, but he endures it well.
And I've survived his road rage thus far.

I'm writing a paper right now about communication styles. Most people use the lower, emotional parts of their brain which leads to defensiveness, emotional outbursts, and anger. It takes work, effort, and training to go to the outer parts of the brain that use logic, thoughtfulness, patience, and selflessness.

I used to wonder why so many people got divorced...
Now I'm starting to wonder with these facts, how so many people stay together?
I'm not the same person I was 8 years ago when we were engaged. I used to have the memory of an elephant. I used to be able to handle situations more easily by thinking them through, using patience and logic. I wouldn't read a textbook for 42 minutes and think "what did I just read??" These days I am typically found wandering into a room wondering what I was coming after. I use my pressure relief valve (big painful sigh) on average about 687 times a day. My medulla oblongata has got lots of exercise and it's enlarged.

*Dont worry; We have every intention on staying together, and fortunately we aren't the type that see our issues as deal-breakers.

Friday Confessional

2011-01-28T11:06:00.000-07:00

It's been so long since I have confessed, I am not sure I remember how to do this...
Oh wait! I think I remember, just throw out all the random things in my head that I normally would be ashamed to put out in writing... Just like riding a bike! Here goes:

I have no desire to ride a bike. The seat feels like a blunt object being shoved up my rear. (Gross, that sentence could drive a pervert here in a dirty google search)...

My girls keep leaving out things that their brother can totally destroy. Everything becomes a mortar and pestle for him. EVERYTHING.

Being a bonafide University student really gives me anxiety. Every few days I have a panic attack, but I am doing my best to stay on track and NOT decide it's too hard and quit. I want to though, every few days.

Being logged in frequently to school stuff makes me get on Facebook more and ~~play games~~ keep in touch with my friends and family. I love the mental break, or at least I think I do - but being over exposed to people that update their status every hour takes it toll. The "block" feature is the most useful tool on the entire network.

I confess that I suck at trying to be a grown up - hence my last post. I hate money, I hate bills, I hate dishes in the sink. Moving on.

I can't believe we've lived in this house for nearly 3 years. That beats every record for me since I left home for college. I've never lived in any one place for this long in my adult life. I guess it's time to make a change!

I could eat a form of bread for every single meal. I love bread. Since taking a bread class last week, I've made this recipe nearly every single day. Whole wheat bread, rolls, breadtwists, and cinnamon rolls. It's heaven I tell you. Manna from heaven. Practice makes perfect - or so I've heard.

I am typing with my little man-cub on my lap (he's still sick and all high maintenance) and he decided to grab my shirt, pull it open, look down inside and gasp! Then do it again. I laughed, then he got all serious, abruptly pushed it back closed, slid off my lap and ran away.

Nothing like having your children give you a great dose of self esteem...

In my Marriage and Families class, I have had to chart and track a lot of my behaviors and also chart the cohesiveness of my family... Turns out there is too much of a good thing. On paper I spend way too much time with my kids, and don't have enough balance and time for ME. Thats laughable - tell that to the authorities when I try to explain to them why I put my children in the dog kennel while I run to get my mani-pedi...
"Officer, I left them snacks, some activity books, a blanket..! I don't see the problem..."

I suppose that one *issue* that I may have with my time and productivity, is that I typically will find myself watching Phineous and Ferb. By myself. Wait - why is that a problem? It's educational and therapeutic.

..but the girl can cook.

2011-01-25T23:17:00.000-07:00

About 4 or 5 times a year I decide that I'm going to grow up and be a real adult.

The first few hours are usually pretty good. Look, I'm at the grocery store buying groceries and smiling at people with my stack of perfectly planned coupons, oh hey look, there I go off to the bank... I even make that phone call to the one company I've been meaning to make for several months (don't even ask why this is so hard, I'm not sure why but I never remember until about 11PM). I may even feel like showering AND doing my hair and makeup before taking children to their schools. I make all kinds of goals on how I'm going to be organized. I'm going to clean ALL the house every day, stay on top of the organization. Then I start being like, "What am I, an overachiever? Doing laundry, dusting, vacuuming, dishes, and like, cleaning things? This is for the birds..." I sigh a big painful sigh because all that crap is exhausting.

I sit down to ~~pull the bills out of a hat~~ pay all the bills on time, reply to all the emails in the inbox, make sure to do all my readings and homework for my own classes. I lean back all proud of myself that I have managed to keep everyone alive, and even managed to wash the ketchup from lunch time off the plates before it turns into pasty goo. I unloaded the dishes, and followed the baby around picking up the entire box of cereal he dumped out, all the clothes he removed from each drawer of his dresser, and and and... oh crap, I forgot to pick up middle child from preschool. I'm 14 minutes late to the preschool and smile a rotten crooked smile because I'm an idiot. Then I forget to get out any meat to thaw for dinner and so I have to cook *FISH*. Yes, fish. Children scream and run in agony over eating fish. But it's a meat that defrosts quickly my child... Cook the fish a way that all will eat it, (including the picky retarded dog). Get a letter, a late notice, from a bank I forgot even existed that we owe some money to. Oh, I forgot to take my antibiotic the entire day, and I sprint to the medicine cabinet because I don't want that dreaded UTI making a re-appearance...

I agonize because I realize I am just one of those people that reaches capacity very early on in the day, and when the realization hits that this is my life, tomorrow, and the next day.. and the day after that... for EVEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR...............................
But I learned how to bake bread. Aye. The heavens part, angels descend playing harps, and the golden rays of sun descend on my newest art form. 100% whole wheat - FRESH GROUND WHOLE WHEAT - hot from the oven bread. It's the kind that makes your heart sing, and the fact that my children will eat it makes me happy. I even knead in the little cinnamon chips and husband gets those great big shiny happy life eyes and all is right in the world.

Ya win some, ya lose some.

Poise and Posture.

2011-01-20T13:54:00.000-07:00

I got the Flu this week.

Everyone within earshot got to hear how miserable I've been. This strand of Influenza virus has wiped me out - Fever of 104, body aches, chills so bad my body just trembled. On top of it all, I had my "monthly visitor" come on the second day. When a person is so achy, even sitting on a cold toilet seat is agony - imagine when one gets menstrual cramps. I'd embarrass a swashbuckling swindler with my tangents tangled in words even a sailor never heard of.

Grouchy is just too light of a adjective in this case. That would be putting it lightly.

I haven't even been able to get to my assignments in my classes. Last night, I finally got to read over a detailed 22 page Syllabus (the other two classes have modest 3 page to-the-point syllabus'). I was spouting off "Psssshhhhhhh"'s and "Gaaaah! What an idiot!"'s about this til the wee hours of the morning. Husband just started laughing at my blind fury, and told me I needed to just go to bed.

I have papers everywhere. Used old snotty tissues is the new decorative motif in my front room. There are sticky notes everywhere. My Pajamas have all been worn. I feel detached from the world. I pulled a muscle in my rib cage coughing up a lung last night. I've stopped trying to pretend like I don't even need "Depends". Because when a girl has had 3 kids, and has coughing attacks, there's going to be a little that gets past the floodgates. I still can't bring myself to buy depends though.
So I buy Poise.
And do Kegels.

On a positive note, Influenza is a great way to speed up the weight loss. It has double my results in 4 days, what took me 2 weeks of work before it.

I just hope I never get desperate enough for a weight loss regimen to start licking the handrails at shopping centers and airports to contract the virus again....

Perpetual Joy.

2011-01-14T11:29:00.002-07:00

Yesterday was the husbands birthday. I would do a long, drawn out post - just about him. All about him - but I just did one like a month ago. Plus, I don't feel like getting into a wicked fight, because we all know that when we publicly profess our love for our "perfect" husband, we later get into a fight to prove the thoughts, "well, what was I thinking? He ain't no saint!" So I'll just save the warfare for next month, when we celebrate Valentines and our Anniversary...

I was stressing about his birthday, because it is one of those "milestone" birthdays. He's really hard to buy for because he basically says that he can't think of anything he wants or needs, where as I'm always creating a list 4 months in advance, and practically trying to break my old dishwasher to get a new one. I like to make it fun, but he is too modest and wont ever come up with any ideas to help me out. We celebrated on Saturday with family, so for last night I created a surprise birthday with his friends - from high school. They only live 20-30 minutes away, so they gladly accepted. I didn't want to take our children, because I've become allergic to them lately. Plus, anytime we take them out, they scatter and climb things and act like monkeys. Holy headache.
So they stayed home and watched Mr. Magorium, and the boy continued his complete obsession with the balloons. Oh the balloons. They followed me everywhere - everywhere I was, so were the balloons, hovering - in my face, that strange sound in my ears of mylar floating - because the boy is constantly at my side barking orders, now holding balloons.

We walked into the restaurant, as husband was wondering what we were doing there. Naively, he keeps walking past his table of friends, and when I point them out - he just accuses them of being rude for not inviting us! Not even realizing they were there for him. Side note: In social situations, he typically uses rude sarcasm and a lecturing tone to joke with people. It usually comes off A)Rude, B)Offensive, C)Makes no sense. Good thing they know him and don't get thrown off by this. After some laughs, some food, some Sweet Tooth Fairy cupcakes, and gifts that I chose (an adjustable aluminum cane, and a portable male urinal), we laughed some more.

We walked out into the snow and waved goodbye to friends, and I linked my arm through his. As we drove home in the peaceful, quiet car, he thanked me for the thoughtful plans. I thought about the people that had showed up for him on his Birthday - through calls, emails, cards, texts, and even facebook shout-outs. I'm so glad he had fun, and that I have another decade until I feel the pressure to plan another sha-bang! like that one.

As much as I intended this post to not be all about you, it basically is. Such is life, I can't help but to be a little obsessed with you. I love you, after all.

Happy Birthday love, I hope the next 30 years are the best - Impactful, Memorable, Insightful, - mostly -ful words... you know, basically just FULL of the good stuff.

2010 in Review.

2011-01-11T17:16:00.000-07:00

I wanted to summarize the year 2010, and in my true fashion, I thought I would summarize with pictures.
2010 in all it's glory.

JANUARY
My lovah turned 29.

We went on one of the most memorable family vacations.

FEBRUARY
Man-cub discovered the thrill that is toys. He got his front teeth.

We made lots of Valens-times Days treats (as the Mango calls it)...

Chocolate dipped strawberries.

MARCH
We took the kids to Disney on Ice! They were mesmerized!

The show was quite entertaining. I wasn't prepared for the onslaught of "Cotton Candy only 95 dollars!" or "Tinkerbell snow cone - only one hundred eighty seven dollars and your firstborn" and of course the hats, "Get a cars hat for just a small fraction of a thousand dollars! Buy two and we'll slap in onto your mortgage!" The trap that is Disney... aye.

My little "Ramona the Pest" miss mango turned 4.

APRIL
We celebrated Easter. The kids love to dye the eggs. I love the pastel colors - and the candy of course.

This one went through a phase of dressing herself in some pretty unforgettable attire. I miss those get-ups!

I took the kids and spent some much needed time in the sunshine of Utahs Dixie.

MAY
I turned... well, thirty-ish. Here is my cake.

We got a lot done on our basement! What was going to be done the first summer after we moved in, has turned out to be about 4 years in the making. It's still not finished... but it looks so much different with all the drywall in!

JUNE
The whipper-snapper turned ONE.

We spent a lot of time out on Lakes. We had a boat for a few months (then we sold it to pocket the profits).

It was really blissful. We all found a love for the water, and especially tubing!

I got crafty and made some skirts. This is the Chikita girl!

JULY
Firstborn turned 6.

She chose to Celebrate her birthday at Cowabunga Bay!

In front of the "Corona Del Mar" sign they have there - CDM is one of our favorite places in the world!
Firstborn starts FIRST GRADE!

AUGUST
We enjoy the Summertime! Go-karts!

Putting the children to work (only when they want to of course)..

Enjoying neighborhood bliss...

Water parks...

and cute cute babies!!!

SEPTEMBER
The baby takes us on an unforgettable adventure. Scare of a lifetime.

Life-flight and stay in Primary Childrens. It taught me whats most important, and what to look for in the future when my children become ill.

He teaches me every day. Usually it's patience, because he is causing some disaster every 27 minutes... I couldn't love him more. I have ground my teeth down to a pulp just gritting them so hard every day at his cuteness.

We also have a huge fire just south of our community on the mountainside. It was quite a view from the upstairs loft window. I took this picture with a zoom at night, so it's crappy. It was an amazing blaze!

OCTOBER
I go into ~~a deep depression~~ hibernation. And make really yummy things like this: Primavera Pie.

The kids celebrated their favorite day in the whole year - by trick or treating! We say goodbye to the beautiful warm nights and welcome in the solstice and an early winter.

NOVEMBER
Corb-man found even more personality - if that were possible.

We got very buried in snow. I dislike more than one or two snowfalls per year. I live in the wrong place for that sort of thing...

Man cubs other testosterone for playing at family get-togethers was born. My sister had her boy!

Enter the holidays.

DECEMBER
Some of our very favorite people in the world became a forever family.

Man-cub discovered the ultimate joy that is toy trains.

Firstborn discovered she can have more fun with the grocery bag than anyone thought.

Magical window displays at Christmastime..

Gingerbread houses (eating the candy while putting it together is a must).

Christmas morning magic. We cannot forget the spirit of this Magical Christmas!

and finally... the grand finale - watching my parents have a Dance Off to Michael Jacksons Beat it!!!

It was a pretty good year...

Don't send an exorcist.

2011-01-11T12:07:00.001-07:00

My head spinning is totally normal.

I got a few emails because apparently I was cryptic in a post a while back where I said that I had finally made some decisions about school and I was excited. Yet, I didn't ever say what they were. Most likely because I didn't think anyone cared. Oh but they do! How exciting that people care.

I have tried going to school several times in my life, but my inability to make a decision and stick with it, has been overwhelming. (Word of the day: OVERWHELMING.) Try to keep up: When I graduated from high school, I had already taken some classes by concurrent enrollment. I was not in any given program, I just had the ability to take college courses while a senior, so I did. I took 3 classes. I only passed one of them. This bummed me out, but I kept trying by going to a different college the next year. Ah yes, my freshman year. I moved 3 hours away, had 2 roomates (even though I was living in the basement of my friends parents house) and I was on the college drill team.
It was a tiny little smelly town; we had a love/hate relationship - that town and I. Every dude I had eyes for turned out to be practically engaged. Knowing me, since everything weighed on my ability to get dates, and not my long-term ability to secure a career, I quit school and moved home because I had decided ~~life sucked~~ I needed a breather. Plus, I needed to get a jobby-job.

I ended up moving to Salt Lake City to find that job. Working at a jewelry store. Selling Wedding rings to clueless little lovebirds. I tried to find a way to afford living, schooling, and having my fun - but a young girl supporting herself, barely even making rent going to school? It was a flop. I was doing a bang-up job at having fun. A little too much fun. That fall it was back to the parents house in the south, attending the 2 year college trying to make some decisions. I did alright though... Oh wait - except for those two F's. So I didn't want to get up and sing with a Guitar (I didn't "grasp" the concept all that well right away) in my Group Guitar class, so I got an F. So I didn't attend the Fitness Center several times a week... Big fat butt equaled a big fat F in that class as well.

Fast forward to the end of the year 2010. In the meantime I had taken 4 semesters of part time school here and there when I could (and wasn't having babies). I had earned about 45 credits and it was time to make a decision. I had enrolled in classes at the local community college (thanks Joel McHale for making it cool again) yet when the time came to start the classes I had a stupor of thought. I always dropped the classes, feeling the stress and pressure letting go as I clicked "Accept Drop?"

Yet, I always have wanted to continue on and earn my bachelors and be able to work minimally when my children were older. I don't know why I couldn't just be fine with the fact that I didn't finish. Why couldn't I just relax and enjoy watching my children dismantle the house every day? These blasted goals, dreams and desires... Always pushing me to be a better person. Aim for change, for better.
So I have known I've wanted to become a therapist for a very long time now. I just didn't know if I was going to continue the route of Psychology, Social Work, or Family Studies. All three different programs and routes to go. Well I made a decision to go for the Family Studies. What better way to learn and grow than to write papers about my own real life experiences? Figuring out balance, time, money, sanity, and more... All while raising three Kids, a Wiener dog, and a Husband!
I am not sure how sane I will be by the end of my program. Not sure where the road will lead.

It's a daunting and scary road, full of re-taking classes (stupid F's)... Full of student loans, some grants, and some serious anxiety. It's been 14 years since I took and ~~only slightly~~ passed College Algebra. Now I have to retake my Math and English classes because it's been over 2 years (which is now the higher education standard). I'm going to have to figure out how to balance my time with each child, the husband, and ~~the TV~~ making time for myself.
Why counseling? (one might ask?) Simply put I have a deep and unending interest in it. I can talk about Psychology and behaviors all day and not tire. I can talk through deep issues with people all day. I can read books, and listen and talk all day. I love when people are open and honest. I love to get to see the real authentic side of people, their humble, raw emotions. I love to see what people are truly like under all their insecurities and "fluff". When people show me that side, I respect them because it's the real stuff of life - of learning and growing.
So that is why.
It's not because I think I'm good at it. It's not because I think I'm professional at Marriage and Family Life. It's not because I've helped so many people already and feel confident I can save marriages and love lives. It's because I WANT to. I want to talk to people about reasons.. change... LOVE.

I hope me and the blog can still be friends. I know lots of peeps have given up on me. I don't know how sane and consistent I can be. Maybe this will be the end of me blogging... but I don't think so - I have a feeling it will actually get me talking about my glorious shortcomings even more.
Wish me luck.

An edited Christmas

2010-12-29T14:19:00.001-07:00

The family letter for 2010-
We had a lovely Christmas season. The kids thought it was magical. There was ~~an overtaking~~ a great blend of the commercial side - toys, Santa, Rudolph songs and movies... then there was ~~very little boredom and yawns at every attempt to bring in~~ the spiritual side of it that we tried hard to balance out, and talk about the Nativity, Christs birth, and the reason we celebrate Christmas.
The kids were ~~catty and unresponsive~~ sweet and attentive, loving every moment of ~~forced~~ family time and ~~lectures~~ reminders about how to really think of giving and loving, all year long.
Then I ~~panicked, fearing I am raising my children with major entitlement issues~~ decided to be the best mom ever;
And I may or may not have ~~threatened more toilet paper and canned food for Christmas gifts; decided there was no more Christmas~~ come up with some great ideas of how to celebrate the holidays.

So we went to Temple Square to get ~~pushed around in the crowds~~ into the Christmas spirit. The Boy had ~~the worst camel toe EVER~~ good daddy snuggle time to ~~avoid navigating a stroller in the crowds~~ keep him warm.

We ~~froze our butts off~~ had a great time snuggling and keeping warm. The girls ~~fought over~~ got their own hot chocolates that they ~~spilled all over~~ enjoyed.

Christmas morning, the kids woke up ~~early~~ at their usual time, ~~ripped through their gifts as fast as they could~~ gingerly opened each individual present - showing a great deal of excitement and wonder, and ~~were left wanting more~~ thanked us profusely for every thoughtful gift, wrapped up just for them.

The boy ~~cried, stomped and whined~~ smiled and oohed and ahhhh'd at every gift... enjoying his ~~sisters more than his~~ own gifts.

After we were ~~incessantly begged~~ patiently and sweetly asked to put together their toys, they played with them ~~for 10 minutes and laid around while we cleaned up the messes~~ quietly all day.
I ~~cooked all day for 16 people coming to dinner~~ just enjoyed the bliss of the day and felt ~~nauseated~~ so happy to be at home with my sweet and loving children that I feel like it was the
BEST CHRISTMAS EVER.
Now, on to ~~wait until New Years to take down the tree and decor~~ CELEBRATE A NEW YEAR, sit through ~~blizzards~~ dazzling snowfall, with a ~~massive migraine~~ cup of cider, and
make ~~and break~~ some new goals and resolutions, plan out an extensive health plan ~~another stupid diet to suck at.~~
I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas, and here's to a Happy New Year!

Joy to the world.

2010-12-16T11:41:00.001-07:00

I used to love to look through yearbooks when I was a kid. I'd memorize the faces of the cutest boys in my sisters yearbooks (it had all the older kids). I'd dream and wonder about my future husband - who I'd marry. I would flip through the pages and stare at the faces of the young men, hoping that if I looked long enough, I would have a revelation of sorts - maybe an angel would tell me if any of them were going to end up being my Husband.
I was 13, hopeless, and completely boy crazy. I wanted to experience love. I wanted to be IN LOVE, and know what marriage was like. I dreamed and fantasized about all of the exotic places we could travel to. I combed through my parents Floor-plans magazines and picked out my favorite homes. I'd dream about the huge homes in the affluent neighborhoods in my hometown as being mine someday. The pool, the courts, the horses, the cars...
I dreamed about my future big boofy blonde hair, my silky shirts and leather pants. I was so excited for getting my boobs and period, I couldn't even handle it. I prayed for them to both arrive. (I know, shoot me now!!)

The times of boys and dating began and I dated. And I dated. Actually I'm not sure if what I did could be called "dating". I had no identity - completely co-dependent. I had meathooks for hands. What kind of music did I like? "Whatever music you like, boy". What kind of food do you like? "Whatever food you like, dude.." And so it was; Whatever he was into - so was I.
The bride of Eddie Murphy in "Coming to America". Hop on one foot - bark like a dog... "Arf. Arf. Arf!"

I dated the Jock, the Skater, the Yuppie, the Cowboy, the Salesman, the Loser, the Winner, the Jerk, the Stupid, the Smartie, the Prude, the Islander, the Army Private, the Freshly Returned Missionary... NAME IT. I don't know whether to be impressed or humiliated - but believe me when I say that it's more towards the latter. I learned about myself - what kind of person I could stand to be around. How I like my own eggs. (Scrambled, with toast.) Somehow, some way - I managed to grow a backbone and brain of my own. Maybe it was all the heartache and broken dreams garbage I went through..

Maybe it's why I still dream that I'm single. Maybe it's why I still have nightmares that I meet my lovely husband and know our life together, only to realize that this is all a dream and I wake up and he's happily married to someone else. I look at the past 8 years and see that I am living the dream. It's funny how we imagine the ways things will be. Reality is never the dreams. Some times it's not quite up to the mark, but in my case - my reality is better than I dreamed. Different? YES. But it's wonderful. I love that I dreamed big, and I didn't really have anyone there to stop me and say "You're aiming for too high of a target - be realistic."
I ended up with a wonderful guy. I bagged my Brady. I robbed that cradle. I landed my Donny Osmond. It's as if I was able to take all the things I found attractive to the men I dated before and built my own 2.0 Robot Loverboy-bot, piece by perfect piece. I conned a perfectly wonderful young man into marrying me. Do I take it all for granted sometimes? Absolutely. Do I still keep aiming for more happiness and joy - Sure. Why not?
I just have lucid moments, that frequently come and go, that remind me how incredibly lucky I am that these two very imperfect people decided to make a dash to the altar - Us. Christmas was no longer a time that I had come to dread - no it was now a magical time that we spent falling in love 8 years ago. Every year at Christmas, I remember our power weekend-long dates, sitting next to a twinkling Christmas tree, or watching Christmas movies, and holding hands on the chilly nights; Experiencing our first kiss, and being intoxicated by the scent of each other. It was Christmas morning that my love proposed to me as we snuggled in the early morning hours.
I thank him for making this time of year so special for me again, filled with fun memories that seemed to wipe away the dull and dread that mounted each season. I love that he'll still try to stay up late and talk to me. I love that he'll clean the kitchen. I love that he still likes to date me. I love that I still find him incredibly attractive. I love that we still can make each other laugh. I love that he validates all my work as a mother. I love that when he walks in on me in the bathroom, he doesn't run screaming. I love that he doesn't tease me too much. He doesn't seem to tire of supporting my endless aspirations. He doesn't tell me to stop dreaming.
He's the peas to my pod; the macaroni to my cheese; the HE to our WE; the father of my children - the best one I ever could have imagined.

This is the night of a Christmas Dance that we went to in 2002. We visited an insanely ghetto fabulous house, plastered in tacky decor and lights.

Really TLC???

2010-12-08T22:32:00.001-07:00

TLC has a show called "I didn't know I was pregnant". It usually consists of a woman that is in a drunken sorority spring break haze and giving birth to a baby at home she didn't even know she was pregnant with.
I turned on the TV today, and my 6 year old daughter was walking through the room, but decided she wanted to see why there was a lady on the TV doubled over and wondering why she was in so much pain.
The woman is crying out - the dramatic re-enactment is stunning. We are on the edge of our seats as the woman feels as though she just needs to take a big dump in the the toilet, and in true TLC fashion they go to commercial break. They show her doubled over in the bathroom with her mother near by, and the Voice-over says "when we return... Tracy turns around and looks in the toilet and is shocked at whats looking back at her.."

My daughter says "It's a baby."
I say, "Well, how do you know?" I didn't tell her what the show was called...
She quickly replies, "Well a Poo doesn't have eyes - it can't look back at you.."

The child is quite astute.
I laughed so hard I cried.

I guess we'll stay together.

2010-12-08T10:18:00.000-07:00

I haven't been thinking of anything blog-post worthy. I haven't read a blog in days, or weeks... I normally like to write, if not just for the sole purpose of getting my feelings out. I have made some decisions with my schooling finally, and I feel relieved. My girls are watching little bear in their jammies and the boy is on the kitchen table, likely going to break something any minute now. Life is pretty good.

So every night we sit down to dinner, and one of us says a prayer - a blessing on the food. The boy is very observant and has picked up on this quickly. He likes to say one all the time now. I took a few videos. (Although I despise the sound of my own voice!)
Even though this is the shorter clip, it shows a bit of his personality. Mango is in the background with her Ham-n-cheese...

House of pain.

2010-12-02T11:03:00.000-07:00

With all the smoke and mirrors around, one might think that I may be a good nice Mother. Let me assure you that it's a false notion. I've been told I'm the meanest Mom - just this morning by one of my own panelists (the middle child).

After repeatedly seeing last years Christmas toys being scattered about, stepped on, broken, and not cared for - I let me 4 year old know that she should be quite happy with the canned peaches and toilet paper she'll be getting for Christmas. When children don't deserve new toys - they simply don't get them.

4 year old is sitting in her room pouting with the door shut.

More.

2010-11-25T12:29:00.001-07:00

I sat and watched the snow swirl around the light of the lamp post outside. The snow flakes whirled around it like moths, and disappeared into the shadows below.
Why I am up at 2am? I thought...

I pulled the blanker closer as I shivered. I decided to close the shutters in a feeble attempt to keep the house warmer. It's a drafty house - cheap windows and poor insulation. Thank you Bob the home-builder, for your half-hearted craftmanship.
The snow falling was mesmerizing. I thought about how my day had gone. I went over conversations I'd had over and over again in my head. I made mental notes of the things I'd forgotten to do, knowing that my forgetfulness is a precursor to my impending dementia.

Questions swirl around in my head - just like the snowflakes I was watching. I closed my eyes to release the thoughts, and fathom some peace. I leaned over and swigged the last bit of apple cider in my mug. I frowned - it wasn't warm anymore. Funny how something in a cup can bring so much comfort.. My brain still goes. I think about the huge Everest of laundry with my name on it, I ponder the classes that I need to take to get my prerequisites. I make a joke with myself about how long I've been in college - wishing someone was awake to laugh with me at my own jokes.

I think about my kids. I think about their needs, and wonder if I am meeting them. I feel a desperation in my soul, that I don't like to stir up at 2am. A lump forms in my throat as I wonder why I feel so trapped. Wonder why I'm that person that does not feel fulfilled as my life revolves around nap-times and deciphering the grunts and slews of baby swearing that come at me all day. Much of my days consist of making and preparing food, then cleaning it up. Then cooking more food, then cleaning it up. Then finally, cooking a dinner that half my family doesn't want to eat, then clearing that up - grateful that my husband helps pretty much every night. My life revolves around feedings - basically living around a trough - and I wonder why I struggle with my weight... It's all I do.

So I vow to do more for my personal enrichment. More. That is an interesting word. I have become so familiar with that concept my entire life. MORE. I have 3 wonderful older sisters, but I wanted more siblings. I had some wonderful friends, but I wanted more. I had toys and clothes but wanted more. More money, more time, more excitement, more success, more chocolate. I had all I really needed but I always wanted more. I wonder where the more monster came from, and how I can slay the beast.
The unique thing about the role that genetics play in this - is that we - Americans living the dream - are all products of people that wanted MORE. The people that left their native homelands, their countries, their cultures and they came here wanting MORE. They wanted better for themselves. They wanted an adventure - not content with the status quo. They wanted to create a new life for their posterity. So that fighting, adventurous spirit? That drive to want more? It's not all bad. I do feel thankful for what I have. Oh how I do! I am full of gratitude when I think of my little children, eagerly looking to me for the daily adventure. I am thankful for a great husband that is by my side through it all. I am full of gratitude for great parents, family, in laws, friends, neighbors, and every opportunity I get to learn about myself, and serve those around me. Happy that every day is a new chance to prove something new. I could be more, yes. But today, I am Thankful.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go get my pies out of the oven, and baste my turkey.

Friday Confessional

2010-11-19T00:01:00.000-07:00

Time for a confessional to get things off my chest. I always sleep so much better after confession my random idiocracy. Melissa hosts the confessionals most every Friday, and it's always fun to play along. She promises to "feel better" and we all know that I could use me a little summa that...

I am utterly disgusted that I know what raw ground beef tastes like. I must have eaten it as a child, thinking it would taste good. Don't worry, I ate dirt, cat food, and my own boogers - if we're being totally honest here...
I watched Poltergueist and the Changeling when I was a little kid. Small children should not watch those shows, and I'm pretty sure it gave me post traumatic stress disorder. It made me always turn on ALL the lights in the house when I was little, and then go climb up in the tree outside and hide until my parents got home.
I have been in a Earthquake. It was a 5.9 magnitude and it shook me awake around 4am when I was in 9th grade. It was one of the scariest things I've ever experienced. I still have anxiety about being in another quake, and I couldn't ever be alone or in the dark for several months after it happened. It makes me think about all the children in Haiti that experienced something much worse than I, and what they go through every day now. I'll never forget what the earth's groan sounds like during a violent quake.
I was taking video of my kids today, because I thought it might be a great way to win some cash on AFV. Turns out my kids just aren't that funny on command.
When I was using the facilities today, I thought maybe I could just possibly hop in the shower super duper quick. I know - what was I thinking - a shower? Thats nonsense. Before I turned it on, I checked really quick on the kids and of course the little dude was sitting inside the dishwasher. INSIDE THE DISHWASHER PEOPLE. BOUNCING. No shower. Later, when husband was wailing about the broken dishwasher, I didn't really ~~fess up~~ say anything. I mean how does one respond to that - "Sorry, I was on the pot - he had his way with the most prized possession in our kitchen and it's my lack of supervision. Nature calls, folks". Good thing he fixed it. I have a feeling it wont be the last thing we have to fix because of this ~~hurricane path of destruction~~ adorable child.
I am really used to talking to myself. I'm a talker, and thus I know that people tune me out, or try to avoid me altogether. I really find it enjoyable to get on a roll about the injustice of the lack of equalization in the female and males reproductive systems... or perhaps something I'm extremely passionate about, like idiots texting while driving. I am really good at detecting when people glaze over. The great thing is, is that I don't really even care anymore. I just keep talking until they cut me off, or I have to flush the toilet or release a screaming child from his prison of a crib.
I remember a time in my life where I didn't get emotional much. Pretty sure I was one of those dumb young girls that was dead behind the eyes. I could watch TV and not flinch at the tawdry. I could watch infomercials and not be moved emotionally by the testimonials. I was unable to connect with most living people though. I didn't care much about people, their children, or their problems. I had my own share that were nearly too painful to even address, so I just learned to shut down and function on stand-by.
Now? I cry at everything. EVERY THING. Commercials, News, Shows, Movies, Billboards, anything Churchy, or the slightest sign of emotion from anyone. Especially men.
I get sucked into any kind of show with a "REVEAL" at the end. It's a huge range - there are a ton of shows out there that show you some kind of "Before and After". I will stay up til 1am just to see what the people's new kitchen looks like, or what the Hoarders house looked like after the intervention and therapy. I love it - and apparently America does too, because there is always some sort of follow-up with so many reality shows. They know how to reel us junkies in.

When too much tries to come out at once and it jams up the gates...

2010-11-16T16:22:00.000-07:00

I just wrote a whole post and deleted it because it's mean.
I'm in the throes of hell right now, people. Will it ever end? I mean, if it ended that would just mean that I would have a new set of problems - called menopause.
Thats right, I have my monthly visitor and I'm savagely looking around for someone to pay the price for my suffering right about now.
I'm angry about so many things; the injustice of having to endure this every month for the majority of my life. I want to curl up and die because of this, but I can't even spend the day in my bed because of the path of destruction that is my son.
So I wanted to write about how amazing my life is.
I wanted to write about my middle child that loves to run around in nothing but her new dolphin rain boots.
I wanted to write about the spectacular fall foliage around us.
I wanted to write about how truly amazing and blessed I am, and count each of my blessings.

Instead, I write the big long rantings of a lunatic - lamenting over how it is all I seem to hear about lately is mothers just talking about how perfect they think their children are - talking incessantly about how their kids never cry, how they are never sick, how they always eat so good, and all that other crap that only a grandparent could truly appreciate (you know the type..) I get it - no one wants to feel like they have a child that is just AVERAGE.
I write about injustices of online banking fee's, all the inconsiderate other mothers in their mini-vans in the drop off lane at the school, and the cruel irony of how those house flies always disappear when you get the fly-swatter in your hand...

Then I hit delete because it's nonsense, and I don't want my posterity reading this eerily accurate portrayal of my lunacy, hypocrisy, and borderline conspiracy theories...
I'd like them to just think that I was just like everyone else when my Period came around, and didn't live off a steady diet of Cherry Coke and Advil when it came time to pay my monthly visitation dues.
So I'll just do what I do best in moments like these and post a picture of a cute baby - and this one just so happens to be my newest Nephew, Austin.

He's so cute my ovaries are practically imploding.

Superman.

2010-11-11T15:24:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up, there was a family that moved in a few houses up. Suddenly, I loved being outside. There was a house full of boys and I wanted to make myself visible. One of the boys was a few months younger than me, and a year below me in school. Ben. He was stubborn! He was handsome. We fought all the time. We would argue about arguing... We would go from being friends to enemies. We did have some great experiences together at youth activities, youth conference, and neighborhood fun. Overall he was a really great, rugged, cute, trouble young man.

Imagine my shock and dismay when I found out over 2 years ago that he passed away.
I knew that he had struggled a bit, so I wasn't sure why he'd died, but I found out because he had an unknown tumor in his heart that ended up blocking it off and he collapsed one day. A few days short of his sons 2nd birthday.

I am friends with Bens mom, Kathy, on facebook. I saw her post that her sweet little Grandson has cancer. The saga began and I've followed the story for the past couple months. It's time to share. I wont lie - it's hard to read. It's a hard thing to see such an adorable little guy suffer.
But his mom... oh his mom. Crystal and her unrelenting love, support, and admiration of her little boy - it embodies the true and pure love only a Mother could have for her child that suffers so much. The ups and downs have been almost too much for me - an onlooker - to bear. I've sobbed. I've cried so hard I thought my head would explode. I've read each post from the beginning and watched his condition go up and down.
So please read. Please pray. Please do anything you can - donate a few dollars if you can. They are having a benefit concert in Salt Lake City at the Blue Lemon on November 20th to help raise funds for this little family. Crystal is a wonder. She has been through so much and wears her huge heart on her sleeve. She updates the blog all the time. She is raw, truthful, emotional, yet inspiring and positive. I love her and she doesn't even know who I am.

Apples and Oranges.

2010-11-04T14:25:00.002-06:00

Often when I look back and reflect on my life, instead of focusing on the actual events (which I do remember) I tend to focus on the social aspect - I chronicle my events of life with which circle of friends that I was around at that time.
There were times where I hung out with people I worked with. There were times that I socialized with neighbors. Other times I hung out with friends from school. It's changed dramatically over the years, but the one thing that stays the norm, is that I've always had good people in my life.

I am a social person. I have been as long as I can remember. Even as a little tiny girl, I would talk to anyone. Everywhere my family went - shopping, swimming, traveling.. I would wind up being this little girl, chattin' it up with the folks around me. The running joke in the family is being teased about "Friend talk". Apparently someone in my family asked me why I would make conversation with people, and being this little tiny girl - I just shrugged and said "It's just 'friend talk'.."

With each endeavor, or hobby I've pursued, I've been blessed to make new fast friends. I love to learn all about their life and share about mine. Most of the time it is easy for me, but not always. I am insecure, sensitive, and I'm a talker. I have opinions, I've got stories, and I love to connect. This makes some people uncomfortable. Especially people that tend to want to be a "me-monster", and I have to be careful to not be a ME monster..
Making friends can be easy, but keeping them is a different story..

Eventually things change. We grow older, our interests shift, our circumstances get revamped, and at times we may look around and wonder why we don't spend as much time with so and so anymore. This happens often for me. It isn't because I don't like my past social circles any less; it is simply a catalyst to change. Sometimes it makes me nostalgic for the past. Sometimes I wonder if I done something to offend someone... why we haven't made time to do lunch, or be around them more? It makes me sad that I don't have enough opportunities (or hours in the day, or minutes on my phone plan) to make time for those I love.

There are people in my life who are, and forever will be, my dearest friends. These individuals have changed my life in ways unseen and unimaginable. They have enhanced me and inspired me to be a better woman. Unfortunately, life is busy. This is a very busy time in my life, and even "free time" doesn't feel like free time. Sometimes there are people in my life that have not grown up, or have taken different paths and it's hard to mesh the two people of today. Even when sometimes I meet someone that seems so different - I remember the line of "My big fat greek wedding" where the father says something like "Apples.. Oranges.. in the end - we all fruit".

It's just my hope that I can always find time to be with people from all my social circles, and continue to choose to be in contact with the amazing people that I can laugh with, have deep thought-provoking conversations with, tell all my deep-darks to (and they wouldst not hateth me in tha morning). It's lovely to get a call or something from someone that just says "I have not forgotten you, I still love you"...

That reminds me, I have a few calls to make.

Obligatory Halloween Costume Photos.

2010-11-04T13:33:00.001-06:00

Fun was had by all.. and blah blah blah.
I pretty much enjoy Halloween; I get festive, I watch Hocus Pocus ~~a hundred~~ a few times, I decorate, I buy costumes, I bake, carve pumpkins, and I dress up. Every year. This year was a bummer for a few reasons, but I wont go there..

I had a beautiful Princess Leia. A scary purple Monster. A Rag-Doll.

We carved a zillion pumpkins. It started pouring rain about the time it was to trick or treat. Storms usually pass quickly. This night, it just kept coming down. So typical..

After being out all night in the cool rainy air, I started to feel icky. I took the girls out while the men manned the station and gave out goodies. The purple monster loved seeing all the costumes, pumpkins, and greeted everyone at the door.

The girls came in, I made Toast and Cider, and we snuggled up and watched the end of .. what else? Hocus Pocus. Hope it was a fabulous Halloween for all!

A story only my dad could be proud of.

2010-10-30T14:36:00.002-06:00

I enjoy holidays. Especially when they are accompanied by some sort of festivity - I'm a party girl at heart (and firstborn is just like this - we had to limit her throwing parties every other day in our loft)... So Halloween can typically be a blast, or be a major letdown. I do have one Halloween DEMON. One story that haunts me. It's not bloody or gruesome. It's just stupid and embarrassing.

One year some cool kids were having a party and I dreamed of some elaborate costume to impress the townies... but being my overly ambitious self, yet lazy and poor, I just borrowed some hunting gear and put an arrow through my head - threw a costume together at the last minute with some makeup. I looked more like beetlejuice - just ugly. I laughed and snorted thinking this was hilarious, but suddenly felt oddly stupid as I walked in and saw everyone in their cute sparkly snow princess and slutty witch/nurse/pumpkin costumes... Fabulous. There was a game played at this party - where a train began and each person picked a member of the opposite gender one by one, a person would get whisked away by the train. Who was the last girl in the party to be picked? Yours truly.. Moi. Double Fabulous! Every person - one by one - gave their choice a lovely kiss on the cheek. I can't even remember the dude that had to get stuck picking my ugly self, but I do remember picking the party hostesses older brother (no doubt only there to make things even for this game). The very last person gets a slap instead of a kiss on the cheek. Everyone whispered and told me to give him a nice good slap.
NO PROBLEMO!

The long train of people holding hands went back into the room and picked him up and took him into the dark foyer. One by one, each person got a lovely little kiss, then he looked at me with big doe eyes and WHAM! A slap heard around the world and this kid was on the ground. He had no idea what was coming but I lugged him so hard he flew back and was lying on the floor holding his cheek. Stunned and suddenly I was a criminal. I immediately thought - YOU IDIOT! Why can't you ever just be normal!?!? Plus it's not like I punched his lights out, why did he have to be such a baby? I just reared up and gave him my best Bette Davis eyes then laid him out flat. The cold stares and blank looks said it all. I was lower than low, and my status as loser dropped even lower to the scumbag list. My sheepish grin, desperate attempts to win over the crowd and feeble excuses.. failure. Epic failure.
Showing up as an ugly dead hunter - strike one.
Last girl to get picked for the kissing train - strike two.
Slapping the hostesses brother senseless instead of a kiss - strike three (only a father could be proud of that). You're out.

JUST GO HOME...

2 minutes and we're friends.

2010-10-27T12:25:00.000-06:00

We're friends, right? If you recognized me whilst shopping in your yoga pants at Target at 9:37pm you would stop and say hello, right? NO? Why not?!? Don't you know me by now?
This blog might as well be called "Letters to my children".
Everything they need to know about their old lady mother is here on this blog.
I always say that if I die a little too young, my children will always have this as a way of remembering me through the superficial and shallow thoughts I generally have on my agenda.
You can typically get an idea of the things I'm passionate about in just one or two pages of the old blog.
LIKE,

The things that I love - like this:

I am a sucker for a sweet tooth anything. Most likely, it is because I lack the coping skills to deal with emotions and real life most of the time, so ... sugar is the last legal drug. I LIKE IT.

I also love sassy male gay reality tv show d-list celebrities. They make me smile.
(and sometimes cry. like this one)

I love my EOS chapstick - the best lip balm ever made....

I am not the brightest person to walk the planet. I have my blond moments and definitely can be the last to get a joke sometimes...

I have a thing for a man that resembles the Don.

I also have a thing for Dr. Drew - not in a marrying kind of way - just a wish for his knowledge. I am still working on my Degree in Counseling. (I may have it finished by the time I'm 50! Yay!) His show peaked my interest in the program to rehabilitate addicts... I've always got a book on my nightstand like Psycho-Cybernetics, or something to the tune of Psychology.

I like to cook, but I LOOOOOVE to bake. I have issues with acquiring kitchen tools. My house is an episode of Intervention - what can I say.
This one is my favorite tools. It's a beater blade for my Kitchen-Aid. Yes, it scrapes the sides of the bowl for you. YOU'RE WELCOME.

I love when babies give pouty lips. I scoop them up and kiss their face off. They know it - and they play along...

where's the attitude?

I abso-freakin-lutely HATE crowds. Not just in any small old way - on large scale panic attacks and breathing bags. We will not discuss the parking Garage at Disneyland, or any attempts to go somewhere packed. I am not sure why I have agoraphobia - but it's real. And I do. Maybe it's the touchy-touchy I don't like. Not a big fan of personal space intruders.

I really dislike being judged. Especially for my religion or political beliefs. It really helps me to work on how quickly I judge others. (which I'm also pretty good at. sicko? I know).

I can't tolerate most child-aimed TV. Where grown men dance around and play dumb for kids, I vomit a little in my mouth (I'm highly critical of TV if ya haven't noticed)

To prove my point, I'm going to go there. Yep, I can't stand MILEY.
Miss I'm not a role model my butt. She can go back to the sweet niblet country she came from.

I have an odd sense of humor. I grew up watching Mr. Bill and Benny Hill.
That should explain a lot.... (you just got the benny hill theme song in your head, didn't you?)

It should also explain my confusion as to why other people don't always find the same things funny as me, and I wonder why people don't get my sarcasm. "It's a joke, son!

I have had a lot of jobs. A LOT. One of them was working for Zales - the diamond store. I fell in love with Diamonds. I know all about them and would love to have a collection of them. YES A COLLECTION.

I have had more hair styles, lengths, and colors than your average girl. One is specific that I love (and it got me regularly confused with a "sir" or a lesbian... was my pixie cut.

I love taking Facebook quizzes. I just found out today that my Aura is Orange, my celebrity match is John Mayer (eat your heart out TIBURON! ) I am a Red-Yellow on the color code personality test, and my ideal city match to live in is Miami Florida. My equal in the Animal Kingdom is the Elephant because of my amazing memory skills, love for family, (and likely the ability to pack on the pounds, and gestate children for what seems like decades)...

To the 3 people that read my blog, play along. Summarize yourself with nonsense in one post!

Festivities and Metaphors.

2010-10-19T10:27:00.000-06:00

I may not like monotonous schedules, but I love my traditions.

Every fall (that we've lived in Northern Utah as opposed to Southern Utah) we go to a Pumpkin Patch. The kids live for this ~~crap~~ fun exciting fantastic entertainment.
This year we got to go to two, but I only documented one of them with my camera because the second trip was quick and at dusk. It was cold, all the pumpkins were rotting, and I was stressing that the man cub was in a wheelbarrow and fearing my husband was going to bump something and hurt him, I was very preoccupied with imagining yet another hospital visit.

Anway...

We went to the pumpkin patch. We took a hay ride. I made my mummy cupcakes, homemade Oreo's with orange filling, and Aunt April came over and we went to the other pumpkin patch, watched Ghostbusters, made more halloween cupcakes, covered little bitty pumpkins in fine glitter, yes we channeled Martha and got crafty. (over the course of a few days).

See? proof.

Oh, and a bird got stuck in my garage. It kept flying around in there, even when I opened up the garage all the way, it couldn't fly down and out. It just stayed in the ceiling. As I watched the bird, I felt sorry for it that it was just so stupid that it couldn't figure out how to fly down and out. It just kept hopping around and chirping. The girls were so worried too. I tried to get the broom and help it out, and I tried shutting the garage and opening it back up for it to see outside.
I finally just went inside for a little bit and when I went back out there it was gone.
I realized I was thinking of a metaphor for it's stupidity, but I couldn't. Sometimes it's just because a bird is cute and stupid, and I can't always help it.
And because Jack Nicholson in "As good as it gets" said something about people that talk in Metaphors...

All the journey.

2010-10-19T10:01:00.001-06:00

I sometimes wake up cranky. Today it could be that I keep getting dreamy photos from my parents in Maui this week... I'm stuck here waking up to post-nasal drip and sneezing attacks from my hay fever that just wont go away. Perhaps my crankiness was from all that was left of my tasty favorite breakfast was just the cereal flour left in the bottom of the barrel... you know the stuff.
Maybe it's because my internet is chronically ill, or it's probably the new computer mouse I got that arrived broken - and it's replacement broke within hours of plug-in...
It could be the dread I feel for the onslaught of winter. Gone are the days of summer where the sun is warm, the air is warm, and the drinks are icy. It could actually be that I don't like monotony. I am one of those that get bored in a routine - doing the same things over and over again tend to make me say "WOW IS THIS GOING TO BE MY LIFE...FOREVER?" It could be my anorexic bank account. It could be my stubborn scale. It could be the teething child that walks around screaming all day, and night. It could be that the kids club at the gym let my baby walk right out. Two Times. Giving me a heart attack - as I'm yelling at the screen in front of me thats broadcasting this for me to see. It could be the ladies - blaming it on my "BUSY" child. Or it could be that I have to replace my windshield, and soon my tires.
It really could just be that go to bed too late, and need to wake up too early.
But in the words of Nacho Libre - "my life is gooooooooood". And I snap out of this crap.

Because recently, my children showed me that I can slow down on putting the money aside for their future therapy they're going to need when I'm done with them. After the incident with the boy child, they overheard some private conversations that the husband and I were having. Simple, non-emotional, matter-of-fact conversations about the cost of a life-flight these days, our lack of funds, and our lack of a real promising plan...

So within a couple days of this event, we gathered together for a family night. The girls brought out a piece of paper rolled into a tube. There were drawings and scribblings all over it. It was being held and guarded by firstborn. After some whisperings, and all smiles, she presented their gift and they eagerly watched us unravel the package. As I gently unrolled their simple white printer paper, covered with designs, I saw money. Coins and dollars slipped out and scattered on the table. My smile fell as I started to realize what they were doing. I bit my lip and sucked in a breath.
"Whats this, girls?" I asked, hiding any emotional outburst..
"Well....we know that you don't have a lot of money, and we do. So we thought that we'd give you ours. Meg gave you all of hers, and I gave you some of mine."
My eyes studies hers as she explained. Then my eyes darted to husbands, and we stared at each other for a moment as if to say, "alright, maybe we're doing something right".... Not only were they able to display charity, they showed that they feel compassion for their family, and wanted to help any way they can. This couldn't all be taught by us - this is just how these girls came from Heaven. Wanting to help.
We've experienced this on many levels, with many acts of kindness. From people wanting to help watch the kids, to helping out financially, spiritually, emotionally, and physically - making sure we had food - not only just lately - over the course of our entire marriage we have people supporting us and encouraging us along the way. All the journey... It's cemented my faith. Regardless of my shortcomings, my people show me who they are, and the good hearts they have. It helps me soften up on the days where I wake up criticizing the details of the mundane.

So I eat my bruised banana, and cereal flour that tastes like sawdust, and take my multivitamin that resembles a horse pill, and take another allergy pill, take some advil for my cramps, some herbs for my nerves, and return my parents Maui pictures as "undeliverable"....

Call me old fashioned.

2010-10-13T12:11:00.001-06:00

This is a photo of my great-grandfather and my great-great granny.
I should have lived in their Era...

I guess I'm turning into a prude, so I'm gonna complain about the television programming now. I am just so tired of the gruesome, disturbing, just plain awful gritty crime dramas!
Last week husband and I were at the gym, side-by-side on the elliptical machines, some light conversation and watching the TV's.... A funny show came to a close and immediately went into a new show that flashed between 2 scenes - one a couple doin the dirty, and the other a young man being chased in the dark. It showed flashes of the man being slashed and gutted and him pleading for it to stop, and flashes of the couple getting intense. My jaw hung open. I was disturbed. This is on at 8pm at night? On basic cable? Then it goes to the next day where the Crime Scene Investigators come upon the young mans body where he's draped over a fence, his head severed from his body and planted on a fence post. It showed details up close. I became physically ill. The CSI dude pulled an insect out of the dead guys mouth. I turned pale. I turned it off, but it was on like 87 other tv's in the gym - it was on everywhere I looked as the medical examiner cut open the body and sliced off the scull. I closed my eyes but I got dizzy. I eventually turned away and got off the machine. Ready to vomit at this point.
I wondered if I am the only one so sicked out by this kind of "entertainment". There are around a dozen of this type of show on the CBS network alone, and think of NBC, FOX, ABC, and others. This is a huge business. I thought if there is such a huge demand of these types of shows, I must be one of the rare that is disgusted by the re-enactment of gruesome murders.

I was thinking about the Psychological effects of people watching the reenactments of murders, night after night, episode after episode. There is the possibility of people becoming desensitized to it all; The possibility of people mimicking what they are learning (life imitates art?)... There is also the effects of people becoming untrusting, paranoid, and distortion in thinking the world is a much worse place than it really is.
Sunday evening, we were all watching a cute family appropriate show. My kids consist of a first grader and a preschooler that were watching the show with us, and a baby that was pulling out all the pans out of the cabinets. It cuts to a commercial break and suddenly a Desperate Housewife is standing in just her undies, a man and woman are getting it on, and in the 15 seconds it takes for me to frantically locate the remote and turn it off, the teaser for the show is already over. Congratulations ABC - you've just educated my 4 year old!!

I am not entirely sure that I am a good fit for this generation. I know it's not the end of the world if my kids see the crap thats on TV. I would, however, like to try to hold on to their innocence and childhood for as along as I can. Kids cannot use reason and logic like an adult (oh and like us adults have mastered it so well??) and I am a firm believer in a Parents right to monitor what a child sees on the TV and internet. It's just so frustrating when other adults don't share the same goals, and make it so hard to filter.

***Post Publish Edit - Wow that was wordy. I just censored myself and edited half of my rant***

Come to the Dark side...

2010-10-09T11:39:00.000-06:00

The dark side and all it's seductive powers...

This young man can pretty much get whatever he wants. I can stand my ground with my girls, but when the boy brings me a box of granola bars or a mini bag of chocolate bunnies and does his grunt, I just can't say no. This has got to stop. His power over me is going to turn him into a relentless mommas boy, and someday when his cuteness gives way to how ugly it is for a 17 year old boy to grunt and throw himself on the floor crying when his mommy doesn't give him his way and his powers have faded with his baby fat, I'll have wished that I stood up right now and said, NO, this must stop. NOW.

I hope I can resist his charm. I hope when he flashes me his cute little (almost) toothless smile I can be strong.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

2010-10-04T12:48:00.002-06:00

I know that last post was sad and depressive. I always want to make sure that I'm authentic about my trials. It's embarrassing to put it out into the world, yes - but it's real. This has never been a blog just about my perfect husband, adorable kids, our amazing outings, and all the perfect things I do. Nah - I give plenty of material for people that grew up disliking me to sit back and feel better about themselves now.
I provide a service! See? I'm giving back.

Writing things out is Cathartic to me. Am I hurting? Yes. Do I want to be happy? Yes. Will things get better? Absolutely. I have so much support around me, and I am determined to figure things out (of course, that is when I have Health Insurance, and money to pay for the crap they'll test me for...)

I see how people go crazy though. One moment I can just love and adore my sweet husband for how loving, supportive and understanding he can be. The next moment I'm wondering what planet he landed from, and where is his reset button?
Maybe it's parenting. Now that I think of it, the pressure of raising 4 girls and providing for a family of 6 must have gotten to my Dad. He would come out in my Moms bathrobe when the Prom date would arrive; Polish his shotgun, and then take a picture of his lovely daughter and her horrified date by coaxing, "Saaaay UTERUS!" and click a picture. He'd drop off his kids in his really old beat up truck at our request a block away from whatever we were attending - but then drive up the side walk to the front door and honk the horn and give the dingle-ball fringe decor around his windshield a nice shake, and would bellow a nice evil laugh as he ground the gears and drove off. His crowning glory was usually when one of us would come home with a friend or two, to enter the hallway and glace down and see him using the toilet with the door open. He was always sure to ask each of us if we would like to apply his deodorant every morning.
To say he enjoyed embarrassing us is an understatement. Each performance was a fine tuned articulation of the ultimate humiliation tactics he had up his sleeve. I often wondered if he would stay awake, planning and plotting his next fiasco.

My Mom, horrified as she could be, just shook her head and grumbled down the hall when we would shriek and tattle on our father. His big doe eyes blinking in astonishment - and some excuse about us making things up and dramatizing it all followed.
So to me, it's adding up to the insanity, and the fact that nothing is better medicine than laughter.
I'm sure dad chuckled every single day of his life with 4 daughters he could torment. He became a father at 19, had 4 girls by the time he was 29, and my Mom raised my Dad the best she could.
Mom helped us all to cope by sharing stories of her childhood, going for Sunday drives in the mountains, living for the week at the beach each summer, and singing Karen Carpenter in the kitchen while she cooked dinner. She's gone to the same bridge club with of 8 ladies for as long as I can remember. They've gone through marriages, divorces, losing jobs, losing children, losing husbands, and even recently losing one of them...
My Parent's have been some of my biggest influences in my life, for stability, support, love and encouragement. They get me. They act as though they are my biggest fans. Had it not been for them sustaining and reinforcing their love for me, even in my darkest of days, I would not be me. My family gets me through the dark days because they learned to listen, never pretended to be perfect, always learned how to laugh and joke through things, and we've always supported each other. I'm sure it wasn't always easy to bite their tongues when they wanted to send a lecture, a pollyanna pipe dream, or state the obvious. I'm sure it was hard to know what to say in crucial moments, find the words to form the honesty we needed, and to know how much to divulge of their own dark days and moments.

I was talking to my sister the other day, as she was being my shoulder to cry on, my partner in co-misery, and saying all the right things I desperately needed to hear. She then said something that wasn't profound at the moment, but it resonated deeply within.. she said, "You know, this really is the best of times... AND it's also the worst of times. This is the hardest most rewarding part of our lives, yet we may not see it, or benefit any of the rewards for some time..."
So now I'm going to quote Dickens, because I love this and think it's so fitting:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness; it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity; it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness; it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair; we had everything before us, we had nothing before us; we were all going directly to Heaven, we were all going the other way."

-Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

What the heck is going on with me?

2010-10-01T15:24:00.003-06:00

For as long as I can remember, I imagined myself to be an energetic and beautiful woman when I was older. I always thought that I would be a fun and cute Mom; one that would Dance around with my children, be up at the crack of dawn tackling laundry, bills, and even exercise.

The sad truth, is that I am not the Mom that I envisioned. Though it's hard to not feel discouraged about my ideals for myself, I don't usually consider all is lost. I have had to restructure my ambitions into being grateful for the opportunities that I've had in my life to marry and great guy, and have three beautiful children.

I have Endometriosis. Apparently it's a very common disease. If you don't know what it is, you can read here, and I'll summarize that it's a painful existence. There is always pain. There is always discomfort. There is usually fatigue, cramping, irregular and heavy menses. So after the boy was born last year, I got an IUD put in sometime in October. I was doing fine until that blasted contraption was inserted. Things were off with me. I had been losing weight consistently on Weight Watchers and had rounded my 20 pound lost mark. Soon after the IUD was put in, I plateaued. Months went by and I wasn't able to lose anymore. By January of this year I was up 5 lbs, and had even gone to the ER in Las Vegas for what I thought was Appendicitis. It was inflamed tissue in my abdomen. I was constantly spotting, cramping, and feeling more and more tired - but I always felt bloated. Oh and the headaches - can't forget the headaches. By May, I was up 10 lbs, and overall depressed. I failed at all weight loss attempts. I was trying to be optimistic, but something was just always... OFF.
After 3 visits in to the Doctor to see what they could find, after Labs, an Ultrasound verifying the IUD was in place, and attempting to take anti-depressants for 3 weeks - I had hit my breaking point. I asked the Doctor for a Hysterectomy, because even as painful and hard that recovery might be, I was done with the procreative powers. The factory is closed. I can't do it no mo.

We quickly scheduled the appointment in June because I knew that my Husband had decided to take a new job. We knew that this would create a gap in Health Coverage for a bit. After further talking, we realized there would be a huge gap in income as well. I canceled the appointment, knowing that I would not have the money to pay for the co-pays, and knowing that if anything went wrong, any complications at all, we would be on our own. No medical coverage. The nurse said "well, with the IUD still in place, you have effective birth control and it probably helps to not have frequent heavy periods every month. Spotting is better, right?" I was confused and feeling hopeless so I stopped trying to figure out a plan. A couple months later, there I sat the end of August. I was up 15 pounds, despite all weight loss attempts, eating less, walking in the evenings, and I was realizing that there could be a coincidence, or it could be the IUD. I mean, it does contain artificial hormones that can be absorbed through my uterus (a blood pumping organ) into my bloodstream. I could have side affects... right? Even though I knew a few people that had it and said it was perfect and they never had any problems with it (grumble grumble) I decided to start researching. My first search showed me a site with 89 pages of people discussing their side affects with the Mirena. Wow! I was appalled. I became angry that I was not given any information from either of the 2 Doctors that pushed the Mirena to me. I even saw that for every 100 women that have the Mirena, ONE pregnancy occurs. I looked back to see my intense, contraction like cramping, the heavy bleeding, and the passing of clotting and tissue. Had I just had a miscarriage? I didn't think it was even possible for me to get pregnant? I had bled for approximately 3 weeks. I called my Dr's office and scheduled a removal right away.

The removal happened the day before my baby went to the hospital. I was cramping and bleeding - HEAVILY - during the entire ordeal and after. This has been consuming my life. I have gotten so tired of talking about my female problems - my issues, that I had just become quietly desperate about it all... Can I say that I feel much better already? It's hard to say because my stress levels have been through the roof because of husbands new job and the income situation. I have been tired, achy, lethargic, and I know it's a cycle. My issues - which can be alleviated by weight loss - actually cause weight gain. I think I am just one of those people that am very sensitive to hormones, pills, and devices. This bums me out. I just want to be normal. Feel normal. Look normal. Act normal. I am tired of living like this. I'm tired of getting weight loss coaching and advice, because people assume that I just must not know what to do... I just wish I didn't have these issues with my body. I wonder if having a hysterectomy would help me, or if that would just bring on a whole new set of issues...??

Healing Balm.

2010-09-17T12:15:00.002-06:00

I feel like I've been quite busy this week. With firstborn being off-track of school (year round school system) and baby boy being back on his feet and ~~making up for lost opportunities~~ causing mischief, I feel as though this week went by in a flash.

I just have been thinking about the generosity of people. I wanted to remember how I felt right now, how it renewed my hope in the good hearts of good people. It's warmed my cold black heart. Some people have said that they would have been a mess had they been in my shoes last weekend. For me, although I felt like a mess because I hadn't showered for 99 years, and I was so tired I couldn't see straight - I was comforted. I was calm (yes except for that time I called my Mom - and hearing her voice made me have a come-apart). I knew that no matter the outcome, that I would be alright. That I would be able to handle whatever happened.

People, this is huge.

I am an intensely intense person by nature. I worry about my worrying. Life just isn't life if I'm not fretting about something. I'm a tightly wound little rope - frayed edges and all. I stress over details. I am always trying to foretell the way things will probably end up, and it's typically not going to be pretty. I am not sure why I learned this behavior and I will certainly NEVER take this opportunity to thank my mother for her charming characteristics I've inherited....
I'm just a nervous nellie. Spending so much of my married life being concerned over the fear that I would lose the husband, almost catapulted to neurotic levels when I started having children. Every possible miserable fate left me clinging to my pillow as I have experienced the worst of my panic attacks just after I'd gotten in bed and tried to pray for strength to get me through the next day.
Yet, this past week I've felt a new dimension in my soul. A new trust. A new peace. It didn't change me overnight as a person, but to me this conclusion that I am not in control has had an interesting effect on me. I still worry, and I always will. I still don't want anything tragic to happen to my children. I just have realized that no matter how terrible things could get (I am definitely not claiming to have had my worst - and knowing that things can always get worse) I know that no matter what I am called to go through in my life, I know that I will be carried through it by wonderful people that love and care about me, and a loving Heavenly Father who knows what it's like to watch your child suffer. The Lord has shown me that He is the ultimate Comforter.

So next time someone goes through something, do not hesitate to offer a word of encouragement. Do not delay to show them your love and support. What are they going to do - shove the plate of brownies back in your face? Hang up on you? Never. Even if you haven't spoken to them in 15 years, or afraid of what someone might think. Even if you don't know what to say - no, ESPECIALLY if you do not know what to say, thats even better. Do not try to find something to say, do not try to offer advice, just let that person know that you are there, and that you care. Your love will be a life-line to their heart. Be the handmaiden.

We are not meant to carry our burdens alone. We are meant to bear each others burdens, even if they are not fun, even if they are annoying, even if it's inconvenient. Love is the most powerful thing in this world. Love is the healing balm.

Just keep your heart open to receive it.

I just had to share. Not only is this picture stinkin cute.... I was adoring it just now and stopped and smiled when I read what his shirt says,
"STRONGER

thank you think"

No words could be more true.

Blessed.

2010-09-12T20:48:00.000-06:00

I wanted to sit and write down this experience while it's all still fresh. We had a scare with the baby the last few days..
The girls both got colds with Croup at night last week, but they got over it quickly... so when the bubba boy got it I really didn't panic. I had over-reacted too many times in the past, and a cold didn't warrant a trip to see a Doctor. They always say "Croup sounds worse than it is..." Well, Thursday was a hard day for him, and he really appeared to be struggling Thursday night. He was breathing rapidly, intensely, and it was a strain for him to get air in. He was visibly ill, and with every breath his chest sunk deep in, and his little bowl in his throat would dip in deeply. I watched him all through the night, as he coughed and gasped and sputtered. I spent time outisde, Jon put in him the hot shower, we kept him slathered with vicks, we ran humidifiers... By morning he was still fevering even with meds. I was starting to get more and more concerned, but he was still visibly fighting this illness so well. I was still telling myself to stay calm and don't over-react.
I called my neighbor that is a Nurse in the Emergency Room at a hospital in the valley. She encouraged me to take him into the Emergency room because he needed meds and treatment he could only get there. I myself was struggling with my own issues (of the female sort) and had been laying around and trying to get back to feeling normal. I had just gotten my IUD out because of complications, and was on Lortab and Ibu800, trying to manage my own pain.

I was very reluctant to take him in since we currently don't have insurance, and so many times in the past I've taken in my children and they send me home with just a pat on the head, "it's just a cold", and a fat bill. Our financial situation and a million other STUPID reasons to not go delayed me, but my friend reminded me to not worry about any of that, and that she could also watch my girls while I took him to the nearby Emergency Room. After her advice I felt more of an urgency to get him taken care of, as he was rejecting drinking and eating anything, and was becoming more lethargic. She came out and looked at him and said YES, get him in there. My girls wanted to come, but I left them there with her, but promised to take pictures of the hospital.
I walked in the ER expecting to wait, and fill out paperwork and WAIT... but there was a woman standing there and took one look at the baby and took me straight back to a bed - I never even fully stopped at the desk - I was taken directly back with him. This is when things get a little blurry. It was a whirlwind from this point on. I didn't even have him on the bed yet and suddenly there were 12 doctors and nurses at the bedside with 2 respiratory therapists, all working on him. A kind man named "Bear" held a mask over his face and talked to him in a soothing voice. I was close by as they took blood, saliva, ran tests, gave him shots with huge barbaric needles, breathing treatments and asked questions about him. All of this in the first 15 minutes or so of arriving. Oxygen levels in the 70's, and he was nearly non-responsive. The Doctor explained to me that older people can visibly be seen to go downhill, but babies show great stamina - and then crash. This is what Corbin was doing. He was crashing and heading for a full arrest. I inverted to myself and began analyzing my stupidity for waiting so long... for not knowing... for almost waiting for my son to be dead to take him in. I began to shut down emotionally as I sat there on the phone pleading with my husband to get there as soon as possible. I tried to hold it all together, even as they poked him, injected him with needles, and finally called for a life-flight helicopter to take my son to the best place on earth he could possibly be: Primary Children's Hospital. Nurses and Aides were hugging me and comforting me as my head was wrapping around what was happening; I sobbed as his body jerked in pain as they inserted an IV.

Within minutes my husband was at my side while the most official looking crew of people with sober faces strapped my tiny baby boy onto the special gurney and wheeled him up the platform to the glorious red and white helicopter. I kept kissing him and wiping away my own tears. He was peaceful. I shrugged away the fears of it being the last time that I would see him alive. I knew better than to panic and let irrational fears take over a this point. As Jon and I cleared away from the Helicopter, I broke down and let out all my emotions as he flew away rapidly. I quickly gathered myself off the ground, got in the car and rode with my husband who channeled Mario Andretti and breaking the laws of the land on many levels. I am not sure how, but I became calm and peaceful at this point. This peace stayed with me.

We arrived at Primary Children's Medical Center and made our way up to the room they said he'd be in. He was not there. Panic set in, wondering when I would see him again. We saw a nurse, and my husband looked at her and said, "Is that Megan?" It turned out to be his cousin. Ah, a tender mercy - She attended to him when he arrived with Life-Flight. She knew exactly where he was and took us right to him. He was in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU). Doctors and Nurses began introducing themselves and began asking us questions. More questions, my brain stayed formal, unemotional, as I chewed out robotic style information about his general health, the onset of this illness, and our family history. I was assured that he was having the best care possible. I could read the concern for him in there eyes, and the seriousness of the situation was impressed upon me as the events of the day unfolded. I was able to understand that had I not taken my sweet boy into the ER when I did, the day could very well have had an awful, tragic outcome. I kept finding myself closing my eyes and quietly thanking God for all the tender mercies he was sending all throughout the day.

At this point Corbin was stable, but it was very apparent how sick he was. He sounded terrible. The breathing sounded like a zipper on a cardboard box. When he tried to complain, his voice was hoarse - muffled behind a mask. His feet kicked, he squirmed but he had very little energy to do anything still at this point. We sat and watched... and waited... and watched. We caressed and consoled him (and each other). We answered texts and calls as they poured in, and through the magic of technology - everyone was kept up to date really well. Those first few hours wore on me, as he didn't show a vast improvement. Was it possible to get a little worse before he got better? Yes. Yes, it was. 6 hours of bedside vigil later, he took a turn for the better. He wasn't struggling to breathe so much. His mouth was still gaping open and he was still pale. By 9pm he was relaxed and resting much more peacefully. He had some color back in his cheeks, he wanted to play with some toys. From here, he kept improving. His Sisters, Aunt, Uncle, Nana, our Bishop and his wife, all came to visit. The love and support was simply incredible.

Corbs had a great night of rest and in the morning they gave him the OK to have fluids again. The Doctors all were amazed at his quick and vast improvement, and his fight to bounce back. He was moved out of Intensive Care to a room on the regular floor by noon. He had visitors (grandparents and my bestie) and was playing with toys and sucking down bottles right and left. He was smiling for pictures, and watching TV. Although he tired so quickly and easily, his personality was back and showing through. He was beginning to fight the wires and tubes coming from every direction and his crying and fussing was causing his throat to swell a little. The Doctor said since he wasn't receiving anymore medications, that we might as well monitor him at home where he can rest in his own bed, be free to walk around without an IV and cords, and I jumped on that idea.

He arrived home last night and although he was so exhausted, his spirits were high. So many phone calls and texts and updates were out - he was a fighter!
At this point, I am so humbled. I am so grateful for so much. I'm in awe at the work of Doctors, Nurses, Life-Flight, the love of Family, Friends, and so much offering of help and support. We felt peoples' prayers on our little mans behalf. We felt the love and concern pouring in... The most incredible and undeniable blessing is that my baby is home safe. He's breathing. He's feisty. He's showing his spunky, grinning self. He's back to his antics. I am so grateful for this experience to help me have things put into perspective of what is truly important, and how significant and important each life on this Earth truly is. As I walked the halls of that hospital, I felt how strong the spirit resides there. I can't think of a more intensely aware place of the administering angels that go where the most precious humans are - the place where children suffer - the place where prayers are constantly being said. There is likely nothing more sacred to the Lord as when the innocent and precious children of the world are suffering. Not to be dramatic (but hey, it's me) but I was so aware of those feelings, and it was vividly clear to me.

What a difference a day makes... he quickly recovered.

He tires quickly and easily. He still needs so much rest and care - but wow!

Thank you for those that offered a word of support, came to visit, and did what you could. It buoyed up my soul. I have not enough words to describe my gratitude. Just sincerely, Thank You.

This was taken this morning after a great night's rest and eating a hearty breakfast.

See? Miracles still happen - every day. Sometimes they are just easier to identify.

I love this boy.

It's just a WORD. But still....

2010-09-08T19:20:00.000-06:00

My friends used to say "moist" just to bug me. I have an aversion to that word, but it's a really long story that I dont need to go into. BUT I WILL! It started when I was working as an Optician in an Optical chain store - old people would come in and complain about "moisture" building up in their glasses and nosepads. My boss & I would sick out so much, like all the time. Their glasses were nasty sick disgusting, with what we started calling "face cheese". All because of being "moist". Its amazing how many people used the word "moist" to explain things. So I started cringing whenever people used the word, so much that it was noticeable to the people around me. My friends and family would drive me insane - walking past me whispering moist, or explaining the weather, the carpet, the bread, their armpits, their mouth, and of course, their glasses. Using the word in everything. I am not as sensitive to it now, especially if people say it on purpose. Its usually just when older people say it, or a reference to eyeglasses that start my up-chuck reflux.

Exterior heart.

2010-09-01T10:53:00.001-06:00

I think the Good Lord knew what he was doing when he gave me a child that is just like me. JUST LIKE ME! A little carbon copy of me running around...
I know that it is a time for me to really look at what it must have been like to be my parents, trying to raise me. As a child I was sensitive, needy, loved attention, hated rules and restrictions. I was the child that liked to wander off, without anyone knowing where I was or what I was doing. I still enjoy that sense of freedom. I still hate rules and restrictions. I still rebel against them.

Having the Mango for a daughter is always an adventure. Being so much alike, you would think that I would have her totally pegged... figured out. But no - NO! That is the excitement of being one that is always a mystery... always finding a way to be creative and surprise those around you. I can remind her the rules of the house every single day and she will still do exactly just what she wants to do, even if there are terrible consequences. She likes to be independent, secretive, and tell me all the latest juicy gossip about the 4 year old drama in the neighborhood... "Lucy told me that she is going to ride her bike so fast that her Mom wont be able to catch up - she'll probably be able to make it to Disneyland.."
This kid has been speaking full sentences since before she was even 2. She is intelligent, passionate, and loves to dictate and control her subordinates... like the baby brother - and the dog.

One of the other surprising and humbling aspects of having a child just like you, is the way you start to see yourself. All of the things that you start to feel insecure about.. the traits, the idiosyncrasies... you see how hard you are on yourself. You see how you don't want your own child to hate anything about herself, and then - if you let it - the forgiveness starts in your own heart for your own shortcomings and imperfections.
In those moments, I begin to scratch the surface on Heavenly Fathers' unconditional love, through my own love of my children.

And that's what makes it all worth it.

I'm married to a Celeb.*

2010-08-24T12:13:00.002-06:00

*lookalike, that is...

Do you see any resemblance to this man?

He's gotten asked if he is an Osmond. He's gotten away with telling stories about being an Osmond, too. He's even said that he is Donny's son.

Funny, he don't sound like Donny....

Oh well, I guess I should start wearing this shirt around for an attention grabber.

***********Post publish edit******
It's been brought to my attention that he also holds an uncanny resemblance to none other than Michael Buble himself...

Now if he only could sing like one of these two men.... aha. I digress - he changes diapers, does laundry, buys me tampons, and listens to me ~~whine and cry~~ tell interesting stories. What a rock star.

Whats your verdict?

Friday Confessional

2010-08-20T09:28:00.002-06:00

I feel a confessional coming on.

Yep, here it is. Ready to be written as I say ten hail mary's and slide into the booth:

I actually woke up and cooked breakfast for my Mr. this morning. That hasn't happened in.... I can't even remember the last time that happened. He didn't even finish it anyways. Back to the norm.
I confess that I hadn't swept up all my hair off my bathroom floor in about 37 years until the other day. I was disgusted yet fascinated all at once.
I think having long hair creates lots of interesting opportunities to be grossed out - but I actually LOVE pulling huge hairballs out of my drains, out of my vacuum, and out from behind my toilet. It's awesome.
I confess that when daughter asks if she can walk to school, I say NO because it takes 25 minutes, and I'm lazy.
I actually am hesitant to confess that I'm not missing TV as much as I thought I would. Not paying DISH this month was quite pleasant. There are plenty of things to watch instantly on Netflix (streaming LIVE through the Wii. If you haven't heard of this - it's really fabulous.)
My ~~demon child~~ sweet baby has gotten vocal - very vocal - and has turned darn near impossible to take anywhere. His scream will make you want to scoop out your ear drum with a spoon.
I'm reallllllly tired of changing 800 really stinky diapers a day. Like rreeeeeeeaaaaaaaaallllllllly...
Even when finances are beyond tight - like morbidly starved to death bank accounts tight - I just tend to whip out the old plastic card, instead of starve. Somebody hold an intervention.
I recently threw up in my mouth a little when an old aquaintence added me on facebook and then I saw her post status updates that were so self-righteous and annoying I had to delete her. Don't worry, I'm sure you would too if someone you never liked was posting about how fabulous they are, how perfect, and also announced to the world their body fat %, BMI, and is "now in the excellent category for my fitness level! woot!" *vomit*
I've really stepped up this cleaning the bathroom bit, for my girls. I thought things were going to be OK, but this morning I walked in there and there is toothpaste EVERYWHERE, and it smells like urine. J O Y. Fetch me the bleach.
I practically love Autumn and can't wait for it's arrival. Sad that this summer was so incredibly short and uneventful, but hopefully it just means I can get past this ~~rotten depressive~~ fabulous Summer, and better things are to come....

Link up and play - it's free therapy!

Sing sweet nightingale.

2010-08-18T10:18:00.002-06:00

What good is life without the ability to laugh, and even better, laugh at each other?
Because this picture makes me laugh.

I'm happy to see that my spawn has carried on the tradition of having an odd sense of humor.

And look, they're smiling... see? Proof. I'm actually not ruining their lives. But if I do happen to crush their spirits by making them clean their bathroom, at least they will have learned how to clean up after their own bathroom escapades.
"Put your back into it Cinderella!" there is some giggling..
I no longer want to know what goes on behind those bathroom doors daily. I just keep a spare pair of panties and shorts in there, some clorox clean wipes, let them take care of it. Hope for the best. You'd think that cleaning 18 messy diapers from a very active-boweled 14 month old boy with smelly man-poops each day would make me not bat an eye to mind blowing explosive talents of a 4 year old. And blog about them.

Hopefully they'll be rich enough someday to pay the bill for the therapist they'll need.

The Paradox.

2010-08-13T10:37:00.000-06:00

I love having house guests. It makes me feel occupied and less lonely.

I know - how could I feel lonely when I have ~~the equivalent of a house arrest anklet~~ - 3 beautiful lovely children vying for my affection and attention....?

I need distractions though. Distractions from my laundry pile. From my empty bank account. From my huge collection of things that need to be sorted/orgainzed/cleaned.
So my sister came to visit, and we like to have fun. Except she's 6 months pregnant and miserable in the summer, and I look like I'm 7 months pregnant and miserable in the summer. We took the kids out to play last night, and PLAY they did. Laser Tag, bumper cars, arcade games, (8 hours spent trying to pick out a ~~piece of tomorrows garbage~~ lovely quality trinket with their prized tickets)... It was so much fun for the kids, but did I think to take my camera? No, I'm the mutant mother that does things like that.

I think the reason I feel lonely in my world is that I realize in most situations I'm that Mom that forgets things, or handles things wrong, and just shrugs my shoulders when all the other moms appear to instinctively know the answers.

I am the mom that is always ill prepared. Oh I try - I overpack for most vacations, but I'll always forget something crucial like a place for the baby to sleep... a pack'n'play or a stroller. No, I'm the mom that is carrying around her baby around instead of remembering the stroller, even when the baby feels like a 200 pound linebacker.... and that baby is wrestling and screeching to get out of my arms and I look like a hot mess. He's pulling out my hair, exposing my underwear, and gathering stares with his scream so high-pitched it could call a Poodle from Texas. I'm the one whose clothes don't fit her anymore, and the clothes I wear are from the Target clearance rack, and you can always see my muffin top/spare tire/leftover pregnancy gut. Yes I just can't seem to lose these last stubborn EIGHTY pounds or so. I'm the mom that yells at her kids even in public places, eats their leftovers, has my car keys on a giant clip on my purse (which doubles as a diaper bag - HUGE FAUX PAS), I forget to put on eyeliner and mascara, typically have food in my teeth, and I'll likely make you want to chew off your arm so you can get away from me because I will tell you a 2 minute story for 20 minutes.
I water my outside plants in my nightgown at night, answer the door in my robe just to make sure other people feel most uncomfortable... serves you right for coming to my door to sell me pest control/insurance/art work/security systems.

I let my girls leave the house in the mismatched/filthy/too big/ too small/unseasonable clothing they picked out. Their straight, stringy hair not curled and certainly no sign of a boutique bow/flower.
I always have chipped toenail polish, short stubby fingernails, and cheap flip flops on. I don't have the latest 3G Smart Phone, and I haven't really texted up until this month. I am slow to catch on, but there is something rebellious within me that doesn't even TRY to look like I am this over-achiever Mom. Am I content just to be an under-acheiver? Meh.

I simply feel it's an accomplishment that we are all still living at this point.

All of that said, sometimes I even surprise myself with the mere fact that I will load the dishwasher, do some laundry, and do simple tasks to stave off those authorities that would likely intervene if I didn't do those menial tasks. But here we are, surviving outings, housework, church, carpools, trips to the grocery store, and even a night out with cousins. I'm learning to breathe through the emotions when a child that tells me she's hungry 20 minutes after a meal, another child that will not be happy until he gets a round object shoved into a square opening, and the other child that is constantly making the sound of a broken roller coaster. We all survive and I can only praise God why.

I have to laugh that sometimes my biggest obsessive thought is how I'm going to steal away and be alone for 20 minutes sometime each week.... It's a mystery - a paradox really, how I can feel so lonely - surrounded by humans that want and need to be around me.

I like to make lists.

2010-08-07T15:58:00.004-06:00

Things that I miss...

-since husband started his new job, I kind of miss those things call pay checks. A weekly paycheck was nice.

- I miss phone calls on the birthdays instead of a facebook shout-out.

-I miss sunday dinners at my moms house.

- I miss being around family more.

- I miss single digit pant sizes.

- Those little mint oreos cookies covered in chocolate you used to be able to buy at the store.
(notice how food follows my lament of my pant size.)

- Using the toilet in private, before children.

- Showering in private, before children.

- 11am church. Haven't had it in like 5 years because of our manic movings. Just a few more months, and if they split our ward/stake in the meantime someone will get a beating.

- I miss being able to drive without commands being shouted from the back seat constantly.

- I miss my teenage metabolism and ability to sleep through anything.

- I miss Big Sticks. Yeah, those yummy sherbetty goodness on a stick. Never see them anywhere.

- I am really missing the beach right now. It's calling my name, and I'm avoiding it the best I can.

- I kinda miss my short sassy hair.

- I miss Xanax. And coca-cola. I have an addictive personality so I have to steer clear of anything intoxicatingly wonderful like those things. Xanax and me are BFF's. I only have had a taste like 3 times, but it's like we can sit up and talk all night and cuddle, and finish each others sentences....

- I miss my blogging mojo. Blogging is the salt that has lost it's savor lately. Don't know why. I still try, I do. I feel like I've lost my mojo. COMETH BACK OH MOJO... it is my therapy!

Where I poke fun at myself.

2010-08-02T11:17:00.001-06:00

I lay on the floor of my walk in closet holding back hot tears that stream down my hot cheeks and disappear into my hair. I make a mental note, that if I make it out still living, I will organize it better in there. Someday. AND put a pillow in there to make it more of a comfortable Panic Room.

How did I end up there? Let's retrace my day...
I had fallen asleep after church. Teaching the Sunbeams wears me out. 11 three year olds that all vie for my lap, make me feel like a human pincushion, obsess over when they're going to eat next, and do not hear most of the words that I say... That equals a massive headache every week.

More of the same at home. It can't be the decibel that I'm speaking, it must be the frequency. My kids ignored me - selective hearing is the diagnosis. Out of sheer exhaustion, I fell asleep on my bed. I woke up groggy and had shooting pain when I tried to sit up. I slept on my shoulder wrong and I cannot use it. I am holding my arm with a grimace and the eldest child says "MOM! blah blah blah *insert frivolous tattling and arguments* blah blah! Uuugggghhh!!!" ... and ten other tall tattles per hour. I am overwhelmed with arguments, bickering, whining, and quizzing. I am barraged of what we can do with the rest of our day. No we cannot go to Chuck-E-Cheese, and other rebuttals. I feel blood pressure rising and make a mental note that my firstborn should attend law school as an adult for negotiating skills. Every other sentence starts with a "how bout.." Middle child does not respond to attempts to warn of time outs for bad behavior. Yet, screams and cries when she is put in time out and acts like she didn't even see it coming.
How? I just don't know.

The most spoken/yelled phrases used by myself in no specific order:
SHUT YOUR BATHROOM DOOR SO THE BABY DOESN'T PLAY IN THE TOILET!!!
DON'T LICK PEOPLE!
DON'T EAT DOG FOOD!!!
DON'T TALK TO YOUR BROTHER/SISTER LIKE THAT!
please DON'T TOUCH YOUR PEE-PEE.
WE DON'T PUT THINGS DOWN OUR PANTS.
PUT THE MILK BACK IN THE FRIDGE!
I THINK I'M GOING CRAZY.
WE DON'T JUMP OFF THE FURNITURE.
DON'T TURN ON THE HOSE!
YOU CAN'T GET OTHER PEOPLES' MAIL.
PUT ON YOUR SEATBELT THIS INSTANT!!
WORK IT OUT.
UH-OH.... I DON'T LIKE THE SOUND OF THAT.

If given a dollar for each time I have spoken one of them, I truly would be a millionaire by now.

Anyway, I digress. Back to how I ended up on the floor of my closet, with the door locked.
All it was, was the mere collective fact that I could not tolerate one more moment of my day. Nothing I said or did helped end the drama. The baby was climbing on everything, and then crying when he fell and got hurt. Then he'd climb up and do it all over again. Isn't that the definition of crazy? I tried to explain it to him, but turns out, he dont know English yet.
The girls went outside and played without getting permission and let the neighbor kids turn on the hose full blast and let it run in our fresh topsoil. That created a mud pit ON THE GRASS. They started making up lies. Arguing.. Tracking in mud. My brain cracks a little more at this point.

The Dad decides to punish them by making them stay in the house the rest of the day. (Whose punishment is that really, though?)... I start twitching. I make great strides to not yell, and create other forms of punishment, and just calmly explain that I can just tear up the lunch money check for firstborn and she just shrugs and says "make it a ham and cheese then". I hate when it backfires. I cringe at the thought of her punishment actually being my punishment in the end.
I start to wonder if this is my eternity. Then I hear giggles and water running, and turns out middle child messed her shorts with numbers 1 and 2. She is in the tub sloshing, getting water EVERYWHERE - all over the rolls of clean spare toilet paper (a high priced commodity) and tracking her feces all over the bathroom. I gag. I dared to look at walls and tried to survey the damage but my vision blurred. Can't... handle...

I heard a loud burst and shrieking. Turns out it was my brain. It fragmented. My ears burning. Did you really think you could do this whole parenting thing, Jame? I had an uncontrollable desire to puke or faint. I chose to just lock all doors behind me and lay on the floor of my closet. Even though it smelled like stinky shoes, and I could hear the chaos through the walls. I stared up at the brackets holding the shelving and clothes in place. They are burdened, I thought. Maybe if I hang one more dress up there the whole thing would snap and end up on the floor. Just like me.

I lay there suddenly overcome with the feeling that my heart was going to keep pounding and just explode. Then my husband would have to stop banging on the door and find a coin to unlock it himself and then he'd find me dead on the floor of our closet. And the last thing he would've heard me say is "leave me alone." Couldn't I have said something like "Yes, those are clouds Dorothy" or something that sounds wistful and nostalgic... I laid there waiting for my heart to beat out of my chest. Waited for me to see a white light. I wondered if he would've been able to find my paperwork to my life insurance policy. Then I wondered if they would actually know that my heart exploded. My mind, being the incredible racing nonsensical machine that it is, thinks about traveling and food - my two old other joys in my life. And if I were to pee my pants when my heart stops beating. And how it would put people out.. That would really put a damper on the carpool, and what a shame that the only living fan of Boyz II Men was gone...

The joys of anxiety. Mixed with drama and nostalgia.

I felt sad, overwhelmed, and a little hopeless. When will it start getting better? Am I bored? I start singing "lets go right til the water runs dry..." and "On bended knee" and "end of the road" and I started giggling at the past few hours and how horrendous the day had turned out to be. Husband starts knocking on the door again wondering if I want onions and cheese on my burger. Suddenly I am grounded again. I feel the pain in my shoulder and I sit up against the wall. I bid farewell to the stinky shoes and vow to put an extra pillow in there for next time I have a meltdown. Just another typical meltdown. I might as well make it cozy for next time, like put fruit snacks, a couple magazines, and my old walkman in there.

It's a great thing I love to poke fun at my own drama. It's self contained. And because I know at the end of the day (when I am still laying awake because I had a huge fat nap in the middle of the day) there is nothing or no one that I would give back or change. (but myself, of course). Especially when I got over it, felt ready to face the little critters again, and we all went outside and gazed at this stunning sunset. In my 4+ years in this valley, this is the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen.

In no specific order

2010-07-29T14:17:00.005-06:00

Things that are driving me crazy:

20 minutes after a meal is done and cleaned up, a child lingering in the kitchen saying "I'm hungry". Rage ensues.
Consuming a drink/snack, only to see that the whole thing had 3.5 servings... not ONE. There goes my calorie count. Lovely.
Putting off a rock chip to get fixed, only to have it spread across my entire windshield and needing to be replaced.
Customer service call centers that are full of people with accents I can't understand, yet I don't have the balls to do one thing about it but hang up and stay confused.
A few rain drops. If you're going to ruin my fabulous car wash, why not be a full torrential rain storm for petes sake... not just a few sprinkles enough to collect dust and look icky.
Nausea that just keeps coming and going for no apparent reason. (Don't even say pregnant. False. Move along.)
Those Women that can't decide if they know you or not. She says: Hi! (next day) Look right past me. (next day) 10 minute conversation in your drive-way.. (next day) Don't even wave as you pass me in the car. Uhhh, it's an issue you should work on, mmkay?
All my new beautification efforts in my yard - new plants - DYING. Trees, flowers, bushes - crap, it's all gone to crap I say.
People that call only when they want to make money off of you. (these could classify as former friends.)
Not having health insurance for the next few months...
The mom's that drop off their kids at the Elementary school at the same time I do. I don't know why but they are mostly all annoying to me. "Move your car! Get out of the way! This isn't the red carpet! YES, we all see you in your tiny workout outfit and bolt-on boobs, get over yourself!!" But of course if I know them it's different and I give them a polite smile and wave.
Driving past someone that is TEXTING WHILE DRIVING. Probably the same type of person that brushes their teeth while pooping "yeah I got this..no biggie." Do the world a favor and stop risking people's lives whilst multitasking. The stupid multitasker.
Lame little Celebs getting attention for ridiculous things. Little Lindsay Lohan getting hours of press a day, in tears over having to do her part for breaking the laws of the land; Here are a few 20-something year olds worth knowing about: Justin Allen 23, Justus Bartett 27, Dave Santos 21, Chase Stanley 21, Jesse Reed 26, Matthew Johnson 21, Zachary Fisher 24, Brandon King 23, Christopher Goeke 23, Sheldon Tate 27, They gave their lives for your freedom this week. Where is their press time?
It makes me craaaaaaaaazy.

The vine or the trellis.

2010-07-25T18:29:00.001-06:00

I am not one of those people that can sit here and write about a horrific childhood.

Didn't happen.

On the contrary. I had two loving parents and three older sisters that were there to help me at every turn. From my adult perspective, I can see how older siblings help out so much, but I didn't see all the helping hands doing things for me... all I saw was me doing what I wanted to do. Invisible hands making it possible. I remember loving to be held upside down like I was walking on the ceiling, to drive the Autopia Cars at Disneyland, and be assisted in slam-dunking a basketball in the hoop. Nevermind the hands that were actually making it possible; nevermind the bar beneath the car that practically steered it around the track. I felt as though I was doing it all.

Now that I am an adult, life doesn't seem so easy. It could closely be called a disservice. Now, I am practically unable to handle my life! I never learned to live with my limits, learn patience, and even learn discomfort. Every need I shouted - every desire I convinced everyone was a need, I received. I didn't learn to sooth my own worries, and I surely didn't learn to overcome anxiety.

At 32 years old, I am now striving to form a backbone. I am learning to strengthen my endurance muscles. Learning to deal. Deal with every life no matter what comes, uncomfortable as it may seem. I have to learn to not run out and try to find comfort at every whimper and whine that comes from within. At times my anxiety seems unbearable. I have found comfort from it in many small and large ways. Not always healthy... Learning to not turn to things other than within is a challenge.

I didn't know what a sissy I truly had been.

I'm learning to laugh at things when I would normally scream or cry. I'm channeling my 60 year old self that will likely know better - that would be able to look back in retrospect and say "let more stuff go" and "dont worry so much" and "you aren't in control anyways, so quit hanging on to that"...
I think the most important aspect of of this part of my life that I want to appreciate more is to learn to validate my own self, instead of lean on others for it. I suck at this so far, it just takes so much work to reassure myself I am OK. That everything is going to be OK.

Since I've already taught my kids so many of my less-than-charming characteristics, I have thought maybe, just maybe, they could actually glean a little positive, too. I stood outside an evening this week and observed a grapevine that grew up and all over a trellis. I realize that sometimes I can be the vine, just clinging to someone else as I grow completely codependent for a structure and stability, and sometimes I can be the trellis, giving the growth around me a steady place to grow and beautify.

It's Friday...

2010-07-23T16:58:00.001-06:00

Another Confessional - that's right. Because I was thinking about this one long and hard...
This one is simple, and right to the point.

Sometimes (typically when I'm having a very dark day) after being impossible and acting like a raving lunatic, and my family has decided to not be around me anymore, I imagine living out of a late model Buick LeSabre, with the license plate that says "WLDANGL", with foot tattoos, thumb rings, sweat rings, and requiring some serious dental work.

If I'm ever on that fast track, please someone hold an intervention.

Friday Confessional.

2010-07-16T09:00:00.000-06:00

This confessional was done last week, but since there was a birthday to celebrate, I didn't want to steal her thunder, so I tucked it away and saved this gem for today.

It's been a really really really long time since I've confessssssed. Link up and play along. It's fun - the Glamazon (Melissa) is a real peach - I've even met her! She's adorable and lovely in every way.

Time to say ten hail-marys and put some crisp bills in the plate.

I am ashamed that on our recent camping trip, I was the one that was scared of the dark and wanted to go home at 2AM. The kids were fine. Me? Not so much.
I made us all go sleep in the car because I psyched myself out so much thinking that a bear was going to come and eat my baby. It wasn't funny.
Once the sun was up again I was A-OK. And funny. Don't know what it is about the dark, but it brings out badness in me.
I loved camping, and now I'm fixating on getting a tent-trailer. Someday she will be mine. oh yes. she will be mine.
I recently was turned back on to Coca-Cola. At the local gas station, they have cherry syrup readily available. CURSES.
I will someday own a Jeep Wrangler again. We had a red jeep wrangler for a year and it was the most fun and exciting vehicle I've ever owned. (Well, next to my Honda Odyssey with Navigation and a back-up camera, but I - the nerd - digress).
I could eat an entire meal of just grilled corn on the cob. Thats it. No protein, no breads, no hot sauce... just the corn.
I think I'm finally able to join the world of no cable. I think I'm going to cut the cord and part with my DVR, and cancel. I know.... I KNOW!
I was embarrassed that I downloaded a game app on my ipod touch and tried to hide my MASSIVE addiction, but then I saw my husband completely addicted and we kept fighting over it after that. Two little tech-geeks in love. Awwwww, how sweet. ("Angry birds" for those that do apps) Careful, the dumb game is a little too fun, and maddening...
We saw a movie last week called "Knight and Day" that I was dragging my feet about seeing, but I actually loved it. Not a huge Cameron Diaz fan... not a huge Tom Cruise fan... Still - LOVED the movie. It was a little reminiscent of "Romancing the Stone". I loved it (and dont love those actors either..) Huh.
I confess that I am not too excited about firstborn starting all day school. Don't tell anyone, but she's my easiest and most helpful. I don't know what I'll do without her.
My final confession is that I actually paid to have my face zapped by a laser. Yes, laser hair removal. I am stoked that I wont have to walk around equipped with tweezers to hide my out of whack hormones. Isn't facial hair exciting??? L O V E L Y....

What do you need to confess???

Celebrations are in order.

2010-07-09T11:20:00.001-06:00

Happy Birthday to my firstborn!

Today she is 6 years old.

She starts First Grade in two and a half weeks. (year round school system. joy.)

She taught herself to ride her bike last night. I was overjoyed. She's very sharp.

Loves a good burger. Is obsessed with the In-N-Out opening nearby any day now.
She is reading, writing, calling, and socializing (just starting out, of course). I am officially freaking out. But this is not about me, this is about her. She's got her ears pierced, crushing on cute boys (very innocently, of course), and going on roller coasters. She is always a helper, clean and tidy, a peacemaker, and loves to share (except when she's fighting, of course). She loves Star Wars, Disneyland, Phineous and Ferb, Spongebob, High School Musical, music, candy, and loves to be read to. She's a great little dancer. She's also a total thrill seeker, and is usually fearless (except nightmares and bee's, of course.)

I cannot sing her praises enough. I just don't know how I got a child that is such a saintly little girl. I love her to bits and pieces and I hope that she knows just how important, loved, and essential she is to this family. I'll spend the rest of my life assuring her.

Happy Birthday my sweet firstborn child. I love you forever (of course!)

Perspectives.

2010-07-07T07:05:00.000-06:00

I'm learning about perspectives lately. I think someone is trying to teach me something...

A few weeks ago I looked from the milky waters of Utah lake, up into the mountains to the southeast. I saw a cloud of smoke and snapped a picture. Little did I know that a few weeks later I would have the chance to be up in those mountains, looking down on the Lake below.

The view of the mountain range from the Lake.

The view from the mountain tops, of the Lake - weeks later.

I realized quickly as I looked back down on the Lake from the mountain, what an amazing thing it is when we can see the whole picture, from a different perspective. I was up right where I was looking at that billowing smoke.
Looking back at our lives, it's usually easier to use the knowledge that we have now to go back and mentally reverse decisions that we've made, or play things out differently in our heads. It's got to be human nature to be able to logically grow just in a few weeks time, and not even realize it....

Last night I got to know some women in my neighborhood a little better. I was relieved to feel that I could bond and talk to people, and that I didn't feel like such a misfit. It's been well over 2 years since we moved into this home, and it's been really difficult settling in, and getting to know people. I realized that I had been creating my own perspectives, judgments, and jumping to conclusions about people before we even had a chance to get to know each other. Assuming things about them, even innocent as my assumptions were, were false. I was part of the problem. I didn't know I was waiting for people to come to me. I didn't know how scared of rejection, or drama, that I really was.

I think that we can all learn so much from each other... especially when we are listening and learning instead of trying to be heard and learned from.

Fly your Flag

2010-07-01T12:40:00.000-06:00

I may not be the most patriotic person around, but I do love this Country. I dont so much love neighbors doing huge, loud, ILLEGAL fireworks in the middle of the night. Don't love the divisive politics being discussed all the time (I usually just go to old stand-by.. "Oh, I like cake." Because who doesn't. It's not controversial either.

Anyways, I love teaching my kids about important things like FREEDOM. Even though they don't even know the start of it at their ripe, tender ages... I get to teach them about what it used to be like when you could play outside and not have to worry so much about being stolen. When bankers used to be referred to as "honest as a banker". When it wasn't considered un-kosher and uncool to have political beliefs based off your spiritual beliefs and values. When everywhere you turned (even ABC Family channel) the world wasn't trying to educate your 6 year old about Sex...
I mean COME ON!

I digress... I love my country. I love my opportunities I have here to live how I want, and I love all those that share my beliefs and fight to keep it such a wonderful place. I try to focus on the good... I will not attend an "Anti" protest, but I will attend a "Pro" rally! I just get a little nostalgic when I think about they way it used to be, and how there are many that bang their fist on the table and demand their entitlements, yet aren't willing to work or sacrifice in the least for them.
We all need to pay it forward a little more than that to make it a better place for our children!

How? Oh umm.... I like cake.

Oh Baby

2010-06-19T14:14:00.001-06:00

One year ago today, I gave birth to my baby boy. I remember the anticipation was so intense, I nearly couldn't handle the emotions. Exactly one year ago, I was holding my baby in my arms, just minutes old, gazing into his eyes. I was not prepared for the feelings that would instantly come to me as I held my son.

In my family growing up, males were much of a mystery. I mean, I didn't have any brothers, my mom didn't have any brothers, and my dad didn't have any brothers. I remember even joking with dad that he was half female because he had a twin sister. It was tough to come by a male in our family. Dad was always working, churching, or playing. I didn't get to bond much with him as a child, but I always wished that I could've been born a boy, so my Dad could have someone to take to the Fathers'n'sons outings, hunting, and to teach to mow the lawn and play raquetball (plus it looked so much more fun sometimes to be a boy!)... Dad has always reassured us that he was always meant to have his 4 daughters and loves us all - wouldn't have it any other way. Me being the youngest, I didn't have younger siblings, and still to this day I am a little scared of kids.
So knowing this history, having my own children is kind of a big deal. The fact that I have kids and am a mother just still shocks me.... but to have a son? It was one of the happiest days of my life, to sit and adore this little tiny baby boy that me and the love of my life created together. I kept telling husband through my tears "Oh I love him so much... I just love him sooo much."

A year has already flown by, and I am still so in in love.

Seconds after he was born, I just sat and adored him for a long time.

One of the first times his daddy got to hold him. He was sucking his thumb.

A picture with his Grandfather. He could hardly believe it was really a boy!!!

He had jaundice - our little Oompa-Loompa orange baby! He had little frog legs and would always curl or flex his toes.

Although he is quite a happy baby, there is hell to pay when he is cranky...

His little personality developed after a few months, where he started to smile and coo all the time.

Very handsome all dressed up in his Sunday best.

He had lots of adventures in the first 6 months of his life - Pine Valley, Disneyland, the Beach, Hawaii and Vegas!

He learned to sit up and army crawl pretty quickly, but his ultimate goal was to walk around like the rest of the family.... it didn't take long.

He was on his feet and taking his first steps before 10 months. He was constantly walking along furniture and plopping down with a thud. Thank heavens for padded diapers. (thats the real reason I always put off changing his diapers - it provided more padding!)

He loves watching music-filled shows, dancing, shouting in some foreign language, and to chew on clothing and shoes. What kid doesn't love to get in some naked time?

He inherited his Dad's ability to shove large objects and copious amounts of food his mouth. He always is trying to shove things in there... Yes - thats a whiffle ball!!

Ever since he's mastered walking, he really is a blur. He's getting so fast and coordinated!!

He is at home on the water. He loves it!! Corbin has completed our family so perfectly I couldn't imagine my life without him! He loves to be with us, and gives us all a reason to smile every single day.

Happy Birthday Corbin J! You have so many people that love you!
Now go have some more fun in your birthday suit, you little man-cub!! XOXO
-mama bear.

A conversation with Mango.

2010-06-16T16:57:00.000-06:00

Picture me at Target with all three children and middle child decides to negotiate for a five dollar slip-n-slide. She says "I really really really want it. It's soooo hot outside." Milk the drama. Firstborn concurs.
We decide that she will clean up the living room when we get home to earn the water toy. I know, I know, HUGE EFFORT. I'm about giving jobs - even little ones to a 4 year old - to earn rewards instead of teaching entitlement.

We arrive home and I unload the children, the shopping bags, and go inside and she's gone upstairs to play. "Shouldn't you be cleaning up?" I prod... "No fanks. I don't really want that anymore."

Enter fuming red hot face and steam coming from ears.
Oh well.
Anyone want a brand new slip-n-slide - still in the box...?

Snowing? It's a blizzard round here.

2010-06-14T14:08:00.002-06:00

"Cleaning up toys while kids are still growing, is like shoveling snow while it is still snowing."

Having all three children home all day every day should make for an interesting summer break for this mama. It's going to be a little chaotic around here...
I've committed to have a major surgery that is going to be quite an ordeal, so I'm wondering if and how anything is going to get done. I've put off a hysterectomy for the past year, but it's time. I'm ready to feel so much better.
The girls are getting very good and being self-reliant... the little man-cub however... not so much. He's a mama's boy and I actually quite love it. Most of the time. If he could crawl under my skin, I'm sure he would. He must be a marsupial of some sort, looking for his pouch. That would be awesome, except for the whole "nipple in my pocket" thing....
Anyways, I digress. I have so much to do this next week to prepare to be out of commission for a while.
*** after post edit. I may not be having it. It's still very up in the air.***
****after after post edit. It's a no-go. (sigh of relief)****

Any excuse to party will do.

2010-06-11T12:42:00.000-06:00

FIrstborn graduated Kindergarten yesterday.

She's looking way too grown up for her britches. Last night we looked at pictures of when she was a baby and it seems like a few days ago. She will start first grade at the end of next month. (year-round school schedule. bleh.)

So we went out and celebrated at a new place in Draper called "Incredible Pizza".
The pizza was not so incredible...

But we still had a ton of FUN. (see last post where I discuss paying copious amounts of cash spent on joy-seeking entertainment.)

Her Uncle Alex was there along with our whole little family to celebrate her graduation.
We played mini bowling, cosmic mini-golf, laser-tag, and tons of arcade games.

She rode in a mini car, too. Thought that was pretty incredible. The kid loves to drive things.

Here is brother playing with his cosmic-glowing golf ball...

Riding the Carousel. (Or sitting on the horses head while singing High School Musical at the top of her lungs..)

I thought these pictures were pretty funny - they thought they were so cool.

It was a really fun place. If you go there, expect to: drop a butt-load of cash, lose track of your kids while having a blast on bumper cars, indoor go-carts and more, and leave bloated and sick from the not-so-incredible food, a few cheap "prizes" from the Arcade points redemption counter, and very happy kids that wont stop talking about how awesomely fun the LaserTag was. Seriously... wont stop talking about it. It was a good time for all - even the teenager, and us grown-ups.

Instincts.

2010-06-11T08:53:00.000-06:00

Raising 3 babies has shown me a little about human instinct.

It's funny how instinctual some things are... Like how a baby just months old will hear a beat and start to groove. How naturally some things come like music, moving, and especially self preservation. We're given instincts to keep the human race alive and spawning.

It's our instinct to seek out happiness too. It's always intruigued me how humans will pay an obscene amount of money to go sit in a contraption that goes fast/inverts/threatens life for a few seconds just to help us to feel alive. Feeling a rush - a high - overcome fear and live to see another episode of Modern Family... it's satisfying. It's even more satisfying to not only keep yourself alive, but to also keep other little humans alive and see them thrive.

Sometimes I feel as though I am on top of the world, and other times I am just in self-preservation mode... just trying to keep my head above water. Sometimes we are out in the depths of the deep dark water, treading, breathing, trying not to sink (or freak out that a fish is going to nibble my toes) and sometimes we are on the beach in the sand, enjoying the sunshine and sound of the waves pounding the beach.

It's our instinct to be selfish at times. It's our instinct to want to preserve and protect what we love and defend ourselves. To want the best for our kids, and even become the "Mother bear" when needed. It's so odd that even sleeping and eating are our first instincts that our lives revolve around from the time that we are born... and yet even after 32 years I should be a pro and those are the things I struggle with the most. They are the most basic instincts I feel that I have from the moment I was born and they seem to be the most out of control!

Honestly I think the most exciting part about instincts that I've observed is through my own spawn. Watching my kids get their first natural "high on life" moment when they get their first STRIKE bowling, or playing lazer tag, and riding 'Pirates' at Disneyland as they squeal when the boat plummets down the hill. Watching them as babies try with all their might to fight off the sleep, and root around for nourishment. Watching them compete for attention, and long for approval, affection, and other instinctual human needs that seem to come so naturally as even the instincts as a mother seem innate as well. (ok, well... most of the time.)

I think the largest part of my life is that I feel as though I've gone from self-preservation, to family-preservation. My world has expanded from revolving around me and my thoughts and feelings, to my mate, our spawn - and keeping each other alive. It feels natural to learn about life and love this way... almost Instinctual.

The other end of the spectrum.

2010-06-04T20:39:00.000-06:00

To say I had nothing to write lately would be a lie. It's not that I have nothing to say, it's just that I am not in a blogging mood lately at all. I have babies to chase, meals to make, Wii games to play, movies to watch (thanks Netflix), and sassy children to entertain.

Let's just say it's very nice to get outside lately and enjoy the sunshine. I have a feeling this is what we'll be up to a lot this summer...

I hope everyone is enjoying the sun!!

Almost June..

2010-05-27T12:29:00.001-06:00

Monday morning...
Woke up to firstborn saying, "Mom - it's snowing. We're going to have to get Corbin used to the snow. He'll probably want to play in it."

I groaned. I rolled over. I took a deep breath in and coughed. With a few grunts I was up, and I expected to see some flakes falling, but I didn't expect to see mammoth flakes and inches of snow on the ground already. I gasped - shocked at the winter wonderland outside.

I laughed.

Because I wanted to cry.
It was melted by noon - but with a fast melt comes flooding. I was in the window well at almost 1pm - bailing out buckets of water as it started to come in and flood the basement. Grumbling about the cold, muddy water drenching me, I got in a nice warm shower and washed the gunk away. I steered the dirt to the drain, and watched the dirt go down the drain with my dreams of a blissful Spring. It will go from unbearably cold, to unbearably hot - with no pleasant in-between to enjoy, I'm sure.

I see how sometimes Mother-Natures moods match my own tantrums and bi-polar-esque feelings about the world and inhabitants thereon. She can be touchy - probably why it's not Father-Nature. Someone noticed the mood swings and named it after their own Mother...

At least my sweet little wienee girl is getting used to freezing her nugget out in the cold stuff...

Oh Happy Day.

2010-05-22T23:13:00.003-06:00

It happened. Two of my favorite people in the world became parents today. My husbands brother and his wife. Ben and Kindle.

The road was long. They went down the painful road of losing babies, struggling with fertility, and living a very painful struggle in front of many people who didn't understand how incredibly long and hard their journey to parenthood truly was. Years and years... leaving Hospitals with empty arms. Seeing what appeared to be everyone around them having children. Hearing insensitive remarks and questions about why they appeared to not want children... See what I mean? Just plain awful at times.

But here they are. Holding their beautiful baby girl.

It brings tears to my eyes as I see them hold their baby daughter. Adoption can be such a beautiful thing. They are so deserving, so loving, and so excited. She as a woman, has endured more than I feel I ever could, and continued with a bright hope through every trial - "I just had to", she told me once. No, but you chose to, and that's what makes all the difference...

So here they are, suddenly parents, and have entered into this whole new world of "what do I do now" that we all tend to go through.

I am so glad that I am not asked advice. I'm terrible at it, because "Benadryl" is not an acceptable answer for everything. But I can sure try to scour the dark recesses of my mind and think of a few gems that I can come up with.

Here goes:

It's not IF the baby takes off it's diaper and plays with it's own poop - it's WHEN. Not even a snap-crotch onesie can stop most toddlers.
Hide the scissors, crayons and markers. Better yet - throw them away. Curse anyone that gives your children markers as a gift.
It's OK to feel as though you want to throw your baby out the window at 4:12 in the morning after they've been crying all night. It's just not EVER ok to actually do it.
People you haven't seen in years will want to stop by to "take a look at that baby". There is something about a new member of our species that will make people drive way out of their way to take a peek. Even if you say it's not really a good time...
If someone offers to take our your trash, do your dishes, or make you food - accept it. It doesn't make you less of a person, and it makes someone feel worthwhile. Always accept help - it's God's way of bringing his children closer together.
You're not going to believe the amount of crap you're going to continually accumulate for this child. Everything from furniture, strollers, to toys. It's insanity I tell you.
Our Moms sure do know a lot about raising kids. They had a butt-load of kids and kept them all alive... however, they raised kids in the dark ages and are now in the Grandma phase and want to stay there. Any question you have will stump her and she'll be like "I dont know honey, that was so long ago... Didn't you ask your sister yet?"
You'll probably overfeed your baby, pinch her leg in the carseat buckle, bend her finger backwards as you're dressing her and other complete accidents. We've all done it, and feel terrible. Move on, she'll forgive you in a new york minute.
You'll find not all diapers, pacifiers, bottles are NOT created equal. You may try several until you find the one that works the best. Leakage is an issue people take seriously... It wont take long until you are willing to hike ten miles just to get your hands on a bag of the diapers that prevent a blow-out of poop up to your babies neck...
Everyone's a critic. People like me that offer unsolicited advice about raising kids are stupid and arrogant. There will be people that are condescending and rude, and think they know better than you do for your own child. Learn to cope. Better yet, call me and we'll chat.
No children actually belong to us, whether we give birth to them or not. Parenting is a stewardship, just here to watch over each generation and learn to LOVE unconditionally - even in our imperfect state we are in here on earth.

Not that anyone asked my advice, but there it is.....

Poor, poor babies...

2010-05-07T13:40:00.001-06:00

I must be the cruelest Mother on the planet - just look at what I am subjecting my children to:

Making them eat their green beans while they're still warm.
I made them turn OFF their video game.
I made them brush their actual teeth.
I forced firstborn to wear a jacket in the 50 degree weather we're having.
I made them put their shoes away that were piling up by the front door.
I made them practice writing and piano.
I forced them to actually FLUSH the toilet after their eliminations.
I asked them to let the dog back in the house.
I demanded that firstborns backpack and coat be hung on their hooks - not in the hallway.
I ask them to put their own dishes in the sink after they eat the meal I prepared for them.
I threatened them to not be able to sleep in their beds, when I found them still awake over an hour past their bedtime...
I actually demand they say please and thank you.
I have the gall to actually require them to sit in time out when they strike out of warnings...

Can you believe how mean and horrible I am?

Who am I?

2010-05-03T00:53:00.000-06:00

I sit here wide awake at midnite. Thanks to that glorious nap I took this afternoon, I'm all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

I'm also officially 32 years old.

The wonderful thing about this is that I do not fear my age. It's just a number. It's also just a huge reminder that life is short. I remember so many things about being a little girl. Tiny details about my youth are still ingrained in my memory. I remember the distinct smell of a lunchbox, my jumbo strawberry lip-smacker chapstick, and the smell of the dust in the spring wind-storms of the Southern Utah desert. My Grandfathers' funeral. His droopy, lifeless face.. The smell of my Dad's T-shirts I would love to wear to bed. Yes, I'm big on smells, and I have a photographic memory. I remember the blazing bright sherbet-like colors of the sunsets out our kitchen door on hot summer evenings. Sleeping outside and keeping up my parents every night. Making mixed tapes, and watching scary movies. The day I cut off my long beautiful blond hair. Marching in parades in 100 degree weather. Planning my wedding to Luke Skywalker. Trying to get my parents to adopt whenever I saw "Wednesday's Child". Crying over dead animals. Making cookies with my sister, pretending we were filming a cooking show...

In every one of those tiny details was a person becoming something. I am a work in progress. I have so much more growing to do, and for the time I've been here surrounded by the people I have been, I am truly grateful. I am at a point in my life that I feel is very challenging, but that is what makes it so much more valuable and enjoyable on the flip-side. Almost every day I feel as though I have deep heart tugging moments where I love my children, and in the same day I can wonder where I signed up for this crapola!!?? Growing up enough to know when to just keep my mouth shut and avoid situations that have disaster written all over them, and also knowing when and how to pick my battles - fighting with someone who has hurt my feelings isn't always worth it.. I still find myself in moments where I know where I know better. I still find trouble around corners, but I have ~~conned~~ chosen a wonderful man to be married to, and that seems to make all the difference.

Yesterday I prank called my BFF's business phone and left an insanely dumb message, and my husband was laughing his head off the entire time. He didn't chastise me for being too weird or immature. He doesn't click his tongue when he comes home to a house that resembles fallout and should be playing Circus music.... He doesn't tease me for being older than him.
So if it's true what they say - you're only as old as you want to be, it's another 29th birthday for me.

As far as knowing who I am and making a decent memory of my daily life to look back on....? Hopefully after I am old and decrepit and lead a long enjoyable life, those that knew me can say one thing: I could make em' laugh.

Here are our latest family pictures taken by my friend, Emilie. Enjoy.

I once had a FISH for a name badge.

2010-04-27T15:18:00.000-06:00

What I've wanted to be when I grow up:

Police Officer
Radiology (X-ray) Technician
Photographer
Pilot
Graphic Designer
Therapist
Cosmetologist ~ Hairdresser/Esthetician
Physicians Assistant
Travel Agent
Esthetician
Massage Therapist
Journalist

Surprise, surprise. I have been all over the place in my dreams and aspirations over the course of my entire life. Of course I can't forget the Trainer at Sea World, too. The path to a Career is usually found through school it seems. Education is a double-edged sword... It's such a blessing, such an exciting way to spend your time, and enrich your life; but on the other hand - it can take you away from your family, cause stress, and create huge financial burdens. It's not easy to plan your class schedule around work, family and religious obligations.

Too bad I can't just get by being "self smarted".

I still wish that I could experience each one of those things just for a day or two to see what it would really be like. I'm sure there is no such thing as a dream job. I actually have a few things that I know that I never could be, after careful thought and consideration:
I could never be a Teacher. Just teaching the children in Primary on Sunday drains me and I don't have enough patience to imagine dealing with the problem children in each class. Contrary to popular belief, I am no longer a child and cannot always think about the world through their eyes.
I could also never be a Nurse. Being around death and illness so much, nurses really do have to have so much patience to deal with people (and their loved ones) in such vulnerable, and delicate situations. People can be so kind and also so cruel when it comes to a Life on the line. Plus, there's blood to deal with. Icky.

I have had the opportunity to work several different types of jobs in my life. I've worked as a Waitress, a Receptionist, a Personal Assistant, a Youth Home worker, an Optometrist Assistant (Optician), Jewelry Salesperson, Health Club Front Desk, Airline Crew Scheduler/Coordinator, Telemarketing (doesn't nearly every college/high school student have that on their resume? No? Ok.) It seems like the majority of my jobs had me answering phones, running errands, and dealing with all different kinds of People. Each job had something really great, rewarding and fabulous about it. Each one also had something that was really hard. Much like each different city and house I've lived in, each thing has it's positive and negative aspect to it. Some days I loved my job and working with people to find a solution to a problem, big or small. Other days were an utter disaster and left me longing for the mountains, away from the general public....

It's surreal to me now to think about all the different jobs I had in the past. I made a lot of friends at work and school, and I'm happy that I've had the experiences in my past that have helped mold me to the person I am today. I look forward to what the future brings as I continue on taking college courses here and there (what - haven't you ever heard of the 30 year program?)

Tis Friday.

2010-04-23T10:25:00.000-06:00

Friday confessional. Time to say ten hail mary's and put a wad of cash in the plate.

I confess that I have been dragging my feet about everything lately.
We went to the Mall yesterday and firstborn got her ears pierced!
It was an impulsive decision. Surprised? I'm a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of girl.
I went to the Sweet Tooth Fairy this week with the kids. I ate like 3 that day. I was skeptical before trying them.. What little cupcake is worth $2.50 each? After having tried them, I would prolly drop $50 bucks for one on a dark day in a back alley...
I confess that I wrote a blog post yesterday (that a few people got to read) then DELETED it later. It was for good reason; I got a phone call that said I was not to blog about specifics. (so if you read it, and don't see it - it may make more sense now.)
I will repost it later... after I think about what I want it to say now.
Yesterday firstborn went back "on track" with her year-round school schedule.
That was news to me. I was planning on taking her on Monday - like a normal school schedule should be.
I was feeling pretty strange and cruddy though, had I studied the schedule more closely I would have noticed she went back on a freaking THURSDAY.

I've had both the Air Conditioner and the Heater on this week - IN THE SAME DAY. Only in Utah will the temps fluctuate like 50 degrees and will give you a sunburn at noon, and see snowflakes in the moonlight that night...

If you'd like to play along and confess your mindless thoughts, link up to the Glamazon...

Sometimes she's wordy... sometimes she's not.

2010-04-21T12:12:00.000-06:00

Here are my thoughts lately but with photos - and a few words....
What on my mind? Generally - happiness. I have so much goodness and love in my life. But I have moments where I find myself in the midst of something I don't remember signing up for...

Like breastfeeding. Nursing a baby that is cutting teeth - you may as well just clamp on some black binder clips... or try to suckle a badger... or attach the vacuum hose attachment...

Having a little one that wants to use me as a human pacifier while he tries to practice tumbling at the same time makes me feel like this...

Constant attachment... drives me to a little of this...

When I stress of dealing with life as I know it, I tend to do this...

.. and this...

... especially when I feel like I'm supervising the growth of a pack of these...

and it leaves me feeling like this...

and another one of these is looming...

and I need to... do some serious spring cleaning!

and still try to find time to tend to myself in there somewhere...
(of course not with the hairy old man)

and still try to..

Hanging in there and holding on to hope that maybe I'll start to learn some things soon seems to be working for me!

Explain.

2010-04-15T15:17:00.005-06:00

Yesterday little man-cub found his sisters stash of Easter candy and proceeded to chew on a foil-covered chocolate egg until it squished out the sides, all over him, my new carpet, and whatever else he may have touched in the meantime....

Wordless Wednesday.

2010-04-14T11:49:00.000-06:00

(*no children were harmed in the making of this post.)

MIssing it.

2010-04-13T01:13:00.000-06:00

You know when you get the feeling in the pit of your gut that you are missing out on something? I've felt it. I miss one of my other home's. I miss the spring time in Southern Utah. I miss the blossoms on the trees in February and March, and the beautiful bright green Easter grass and warm sunshine, when there is still snow falling at our home in Northern Utah.

So I went and visited. This trip was different. I was preoccupied with the demands of a certain little man-cub that is constantly putting crap in his mouth and acts like he's got a death wish. He is busy. His sisters are busy. I get a headache just thinking about the inner chaos I felt on this trip.
I am writing this late at night tonight as everyone is in bed, full of gratitude for my children... yet also knowing that I have been with them in constant for honestly WEEKS without a break from them. Nearly 2 weeks. Constantly.

I remember one evening last week, just going outside and hearing peace. Quiet. I could actually hear the sun setting. I nearly forgot what blazing beautiful sunsets look like there - and I gasped when I saw it. I had to run inside for the camera. The girls ran out to see what I was doing, and the first thing I heard was the mango shout, "PINK!!!"
"Yes," I said, "the sky is bright pink - isn't it?"
She nodded and I pulled her close. We sat there for a few minutes just taking it all in as it started to fade and the blue-grey Eastern sky started to creep in quickly. I spaced out and only heard the muffled banter of my kids as I allowed myself to pull away and float up into the horizon with the bright hues entering dusk. I looked up with a prayer to the heavens, asking if I could one day live there again.

Of course I said please. I do feel a bit entitled to move back there since I was born and raised there for about 28 years.... I was quickly pulled back to reality with a tug, "Mommy, corbs is poopy."

PS - It did remind me that I am adding one more thing to my bucket list... I want to see the Northern Lights someday.

Oh yes...

2010-04-13T00:51:00.001-06:00

As a matter of fact, she did leave the house like this. However, when the Dad was home, he has a little more pride in his childrens' appearances than their mother - so she had to change...

The concert.

2010-04-01T11:18:00.001-06:00

Husband got me a Christmas Gift. He knew it was on my "bucket list" of things I'd love to do in my life.

Last night I got to cross it off.

I sat on the 4th row of a Michale Buble concert, and watched him do his thing.

Now, I use a lot of sarcasm. This is not one of those times - that was a really amazing concert. He puts on a great show. Driving through droves of idiots to get there, taking a half hour to cover 3 city blocks in the minions of Buble followers, walking 8 miles in the blizzard (gross exaggeration), uphill both ways from our parking spot out in the boonies... worth it.

We made eye contact.

He sang to me. I smiled at him. He danced. I smiled at him. He made jokes. I smiled at him. Husband next to me didn't seem to mind. I mouthed "Olive Juice" to him. He puked in his mouth a little and wiped the sweat off his face.

He decided to reciprocate my lovely gesture. Rock on. Or I LOVE YOU TOO, PLAIN JAME.

Sing it Mikey!! Just to meeeee!!!!

Croooooooon = swoooooon.

"I just haven't met you yet!!" sing along!

I wasn't kidding when I said we were close. I could see his sweat beads, his spit, and even a couple tears at the end of one of his slow sweet ballads. I love to watch him dance around when he sings!

There was a part where he was talking about how Michael Jackson inspired him as a child, and how he loved his dancing. So he suddenly busted out into Billie Jean and spun around, and doing the Moonwalk and pelvic thrusts. He put on a black gangster hat and spun around and threw it into the audience.

Guess who caught the hat?!?

And that is why I LOVE this man....

He almost got punched in the face for grabbing onto it with both hands and refusing to let go.

(He may or may not have stepped on a few toes and shouted "MINE!" to get it....)

Mr. Buble connects with his audience incredibly. It's clear to everyone he loves to perform, and possibly one of the most endearing traits about him is his adorable personality. As one of his biggest fans, THANK YOU MIKE, FOR AN AWESOME, UNFORGETTABLE SHOW.

I've noticed.

2010-03-31T16:46:00.001-06:00

I'm starting to notice that when people pride themselves in being a certain way... they are actually not really that way at all... Their wish is not their reality.

"" I'm a really laid back person."

No, no you're not. When you are freakishly overreacting over everything - and getting your panties in a wad every time something doesn't go your way = Not laid back.

" I'm a very positive person..."

No. You're not. It's fake and we all see right through it. When you sit there and say "oh I HATE that" or tear people down around you. That's not being positive. When you pretend like you're happy about everything in your life - that's not being positive either.

" I'm so hot and sexy."

You may have been until you said that. People that try way too hard to be all cute and sexy just aren't. Do you hear me Pamela Anderson??

Good thing I'm NONE of these things. At all. Not hot n sexy, not positive, not laid back.... Don't worry, I'll still find a way somehow to be hypocritical though.

Celebrate!

2010-03-26T13:38:00.001-06:00

She made it to the ripe age of FOUR! I'm so excited that in her "living on the edge" way of life she's still alive, kicking, and keeping me on my toes on a daily basis.

I love her dearly, and hope she's got 100 more birthdays to come.
Happy Birthday Mango!

Cosleeping

2010-03-22T23:09:00.001-06:00

Don't mind me if I'm not all fun and games all the time...

I'm going off 4 hours of sleep.

Life can sometimes seem as though it's a roller coaster with a tiny one around. I often feel as though I am caring for a monkey. He cried during the night last night, sleep occured which felt like a full 40 minutes of complete REM. Broken sleep numbs the brain. It makes me irrational, and goofy. I think I must have gone in when I heard the swath of baby swearing and I brought him in bed with us. I looked up after I dozed off and he was climbing on his father. Standing up, trying to step his foot on his Dad's face.
Funny - the dad doesn't even remember that.

I told the little man cub that was not okay, but since he speaks French-Navajo he dismissed my requests to go to sleep. He even shunned the warm milk. I put him back in bed where he promptly screeched and woke up the western hemisphere. Yeah, that was him that disturbed your slumber Sunday night - March 21st. I guess we survived the ordeal...

I love naps.