Band of Brothers

All strapped in and ready to go.

2012-01-08T16:56:00.000-08:00

School starts for me again in the morning, and I have every finger and toe crossed that this quarter doesn't end up like the fall. Fall quarter was a slow motion train wreck. I learned a lot, though. In those ten weeks, I found out that five classes plus institute is too many. Callings in church that require me to get the kids out the door by myself, arrive early, and have an active role all three hours don't add to the situation either. I went to crazy town and back, but I survived it.

My mantra for this year is balance. I know some people say that achieving balance in your life is an elusive dream that no one ever achieves. All I know is, when your balance gets seriously out of whack, it isn't pretty. I've had a month off of school, and it was blissfully renewing. It was such a relief to greet parts of me that had faded away under the stress. As days of peace and quiet passed, space opened up in my brain to reach out to others in need. I organized my cupboards, painted walls, and rearranged furniture (thanks, Mom!). I had time to think, contemplate, and curl up by the fire and read. I had adventures-- like grabbing the boys and slaughtering our turkeys and roosters with them. I purged myself of guilt and made those Christmas stockings I had been intending to sew after Kelton was born in 2001. It was lovely.

I only have three classes this quarter. I'm out of my high-demand callings at church for a while, and am focusing on making sure no one sits alone. The ground is frozen, so I don't have to think about gardening for a while. I'm starting my earth & space science minor, so I'll have labs and tests instead of papers, presentations, and portfolios to produce. Give me a test over a paper any day! I'm optimistic, this should be a good quarter if I can just keep my life in balance.

The year of intensity.

2011-08-20T08:49:00.000-07:00

My Father-in-law asked me why I haven't blogged in so long. I had to think about that for a while. First of all, this has been the most intense year of my life. It took all my precious life force just to live it; nothing was left for documenting it. Second, crazy things have happened- things I didn't want to blog about because people would judge me and take away my mom card. Third, I've had amazing support during this year, and my need to tell my story has been satisfied that way.

I've had enough distance to mention some of my fun facts:

1. During my spring break, my sons rose up as one and created havoc at school. It wasn't a time of great stress at school, and the timing still mystifies me, but every child but one either got suspended, withdrawn from school, or had to call home from the Principal's office. Thankfully, most were for general tomfoolery and rascality, but still. I had to laugh.

2. I also came thisclose to having a SWAT team search my house and having a child expelled for what ended up not being a good way to impress an elementary school girl. I didn't laugh at that one. I did some deep cleansing breaths for a long, long time. It's almost funny, but it'll take a while.

3. The same week my kiddos were in revolt, my grades came out for winter quarter. I got to experience the darker side of dyslexia when my biology professor inadvertently gave my hard-won 4.0 to the student below me and gave me his 0.0. I missed making the Dean's list and scholarship consideration because of it. I was an overwrought ghost, haunting the registrar's and professor's office for ten days to no avail. I finally got sick of it and parked myself in the Dean's office and poof! Fixed in a flash. The happily ever after to this one is that I did end up getting a different scholarship, so there.

I lived through all that, but dang. They all pretty much happened simultaneously. That was one tough month.

When my brother died last year, it reoriented the gravitational pull of my life. Every day has been a push/pull experience toward fully processing those moments that were too intense to live at the time, and adjusting to the loss. Again, I'm really grateful for the support I have. Lewis has been a rock, and is always willing to pick up the slack when the work of grieving is more intense. The cool thing is, I have the best brother in the world. He is still very involved in the family so my relationship with him, instead of shrinking into the distant past, has stayed blessedly current. I know it probably can't stay like this forever, but it's enough for now.

I have also been consumed with all the 'firsts' of our little farm. We've raised and butchered chickens, learned how to/how not to keep baby chicks alive, and fended off a multitude of predators. We've felt a baby goat kicking inside his mommy, then enfolded him in a towel still wet from birth. I've gotten over the awkwardness of squeezing my goats girly goodies to milk her, and even made goat cheese.

We watched a youtube video on goat slaughter, then did it ourselves. I helped skin and butcher the demonic creature. I canned the meat, and even made sausage. I loved it so much, I'm taking hunter's safety next month with my three oldest boys.

We were given a boat this summer (!!!) and have spent fun days tubing, skiing, and fishing.

We worked for months getting the four, eighty-by-3.5 foot garden boxes fences, filled, and planted. Now we're drowning is zucchini. It's a lovely way to go!

We road-tripped with some of our closest friends and got to bask in the sight of Bono in leather pants. Unforgettable.

I got to be in a family band and rock out to Weezer for the reunion talent show. I don't ever want to see the video, I know it would spoil my memory of Julie's and my sweet harmony- especially the part where we totally lost our place and just yelled the words.

I'll wrap up this post with the present moment. I spent the last few days hanging out with my dad, doing my best not to lose or break him while my mom's away. We've had a great time, hitting a bucket of balls, hitting our friend's frozen yogurt place, and devouring pizza, root beer, and action movies. Sorry mom, he just had cold pizza and root beer for breakfast!

I'm Happy

2011-01-05T06:25:00.001-08:00

I realized this yesterday morning on my way into the science building. I had a giddy little swoop in my stomach, and I thought to myself, "I can't believe this is my life!" I love school. I love my kids, especially as they get older- so much more fun, so much less work. I love my little farm, and my plans for it. I love my sweet husband, who is always looking out for my comfort and cheering me on. These are the things I was thinking as I made my way to my first class of the day- geology.
I claimed a seat in the front row of the large theater-style auditorium. I sat down, swung the desk up and in front of me, and opened my backpack to get out my notebook. Only it wasn't there. It had everything in it. Everything. Every scrap of paper for taking notes, my lab manual for biology next hour, even the classroom numbers, that on the second day of class, I still need. I looked at the clock and weighed my options. The precious notebook could be in my car, way up a long, steep ramp in the nosebleed free parking section. I had 9 minutes. Should I go for it, or cut my losses? I imagined going through 2 lectures and a lab with nothing to write on, and made my choice.
I ran. Well, as fast as one can run on ice through a busy campus and not look like an idiot. I've been wanting to get more fit. Be careful what you wish for. I gasped and panted my way up that ramp, thighs in flames. I prayed as I approached my van. Please let it be in there. Please let it be in there.... It was. I was saved! I sprinted and dodged my way down the ramp through the thinning crowds. I checked the time, three minutes! I knew I wasn't going to make it, but I'd be close. I tried to control my breathing, because who wants to burst into a lecture hall late, red-faced and panting?
I made it, a minute or two late. I don't know what my face looked like, and I don't want to know. The professor looked at me with concern as I darted for my desk, saved for me by my coat, backpack and text. That was my way of telling her that I wasn't really late, just, um, late for the start of class. I tried to squeeze into the space between the desk and seat. No dice, and everyone was staring at me. There was nothing for it but to take down the desk part to sit down. I tried to, but my textbook went splatting to the floor. Flame-faced, panting and perspiring, I finally settled into my seat with my precious notebook. My professor nodded to me as if asking for permission to begin again, and I experienced about five minutes of humiliation. Then I happily began to take notes.
Then I laughed about it inside for the rest of the day.
Life is good, and I am indeed happy.

It's Been Forever!

2010-11-10T15:40:00.000-08:00

My son found my blog at school by searching his name on Bing, and we had a good laugh over the post he found. Time has sure flown! It seems like every time I turn around it's Friday again, which is a lot better than always being Monday.

School is hard. A professor explained why when she told me about dendrites, and how if you're out of school for a long time they shrivel up. When you start back to school, they're forced to reroute and regrow. So that's why it hurts. But I'm still loving it.

In fact, today is a celebration day. I got my grade for my first really real speech in speech class. It was a 99% with compliments underlined! Yes, it's a good day. Plus, there's no school tomorrow, and my parentals are coming tonight to spend the night!!!

We've had some drama though. A predator has been killing some of my beloved birds. My beautiful golden sex link was struck down IN the chicken yard IN broad daylight! I couldn't

believe it. Then, when we were in Idaho, two Barred Rocks fled and left nought but their feet and feathers. It's a good thing I'm married to a stud, I tell you. Look what he did!

Lewis caught the culprit in the act. He dropped him in one shot, so animal lovers, he didn't feel a thing.

We are loving our little farm though. We have two goats, Cymbeline (a milk goat when she's bred) and Ophelia (a meat goat). Lewis built them this cute little barn we call the Garn. For goat barn, get it?

Aren't they such cute girls? Liam has been worried that we're going to kill them and eat them. I tell him not to worry, we're not going to eat them, just their babies. Can you pre-pay for counselling?

Their cozy little home.

My First Day of School, or Earlgirl's Descent into Hell

2010-09-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

Look at me! I'm all excited, not knowing what humiliations are in store.

I was so prepared for today. I'd printed my schedule, walked the route I needed to take, packed my bag the night before with a bazillion pens, water and trail mix (just in case). It didn't make any difference. My day was the BOMB. Like Hiroshima. It started out great, I got pictures of me with my backpack, heading off to adventure. I left home at 8:05, which was cutting it a bit fine. That put me there with 5 minutes to make it from the parking lot to my seat. Do-able. Especially for the first day. Just as I was pulling up, I grabbed my schedule from my bag. To my horror, it wasn't my schedule, it was a receipt for my parking pass. I knew what building to go to, but I had no idea what class it was, or what room number! My heart did a little herky jerky thing, then the mom in me took over. I'd walked the route on Friday. I would remember the room when I saw it. I made it to the right building, but couldn't recognize the class room. Curses. By this time classes had started 5 minutes ago. There was nothing for it but to head to the registrar's office and get another copy. But I didn't have my pin memorized, and I didn't have it with me. I still raced to the office, and found an empty computer. I guessed my pin correctly (THANK YOU THANK YOU!) and after two tries, printed my schedule. I dashed back to the right building and made it to the exact same room I'd been hesitating over 10 minutes before. I took a deep breath, and interrupted the teacher 15 minutes into a 50 minute class. Nice. Naturally, the only seat available was front and center. I slid into it and tried to disappear. I grabbed my text and notebook and pretended that I'd been there all along. The teacher resumed his lecture, and mortification turned to horror. I had no idea what he was saying. He was using terms and symbols I didn't know existed. Was this Math 107? How could this be? Was this a dream? I need this class. NEED IT. I can't get into the Ed program without it. And he's speaking Greek in the first 15 minutes of the first day. I'm screwed. I wonder, am I in the right room? I look around me, and everyone has the same text as I do. All the while, the teacher is looking at me strangely, like "who are you?" Then I start to notice other things, like this girl to my left has pages of handwritten equations. He's calling students by name, like he already knows them. Something is wrong, very wrong. He's asking them if anyone had any problems with the homework. Then my heart stops. And I know. Today isn't the first day of school. I've gotten the day wrong. As soon as he finishes, I'm up there in a flash. "Um, you know those nightmares you have about the first day of school? I'm living one right now." I explain my mistake, and assure him that I'm actually a responsible adult and the mother of 5 sons, and an exchange student, who's waited 15 years to go to school, and I thought this was the first day, and how screwed actually am I? He laughs and fills me in on the mountain of assignments I've missed. I thank him, apologize again, and sprint across campus to my next class. Every other teacher laughed with me and got me up to speed. As I drove toward home, I was laughing hysterically. No schedule. 15 minutes late. Showing up on the 3rd day of class. At least I wasn't naked, right?

I'm So Jealous. I Want to be Jewish after Seeing This:

2010-09-20T16:34:00.000-07:00

Dear Middle School Writing Teacher:

2010-09-13T22:21:00.001-07:00

Upon receiving my very own writing assignment. Logan declined to answer some very personal questions with unswerving veracity. I allowed him to complete the assignment as a work of fiction.
Example:
Who is your greatest hero?
Adolf Hitler, because he can grow a killer mustache. (Get it? Killer?)
What is your least favorite chore?
Plasma donation day.
What would be your most cherished gift?
My very own bed in the house, the shed roof leaks in the rain.
What is your favorite subject at school?
Lunch, it's the only meal I get all day.
What is your greatest accomplishment?
Learning to wipe myself was the best 13th birthday present I could give myself.
What is your greatest aspiration?
To be first lady of the United States.
Do you feel like the kids at school like you?
They laugh every time I come near, so they must like me a lot!
What is your least favorite subject?
Gym, for what happens to me in the locker room.
What is your biggest complaint about your family?
They make me dress in girls clothes at home.

It went on and on, and we laughed until we cried.
Then she sent the assignment home for the parents to fill out. What? To test us to see how well we know our child. Nuh uh. Not going to happen.
I wrote this letter and stapled it to the assignment.

Dear Teacher,

When Logan brought the interest inventory home, he was very uncomfortable with the assignment. He felt that his biggest fears, disappointments and embarrassments are something he’d rather keep to himself. The sharing of personal details like that occurs best when a relationship of respect and trust has been developed, and he has simply not had the time or opportunity to develop that with you. I understand that the ability to access strong emotional experiences is vital for good writing, and such introspection doesn’t come naturally to middle schoolers. Becoming self aware is an important process that I applaud.

Inventories like this also could be valuable for assessing the mental health or family stability of a student. Please rest assured that Logan is a valued and loved member of our very intact family. In fact, filling out his inventory was a bonding family activity that made us laugh until we cried. He had my encouragement to make it a work of fiction. Writing fiction is still writing, and I hope you enjoyed it as much as we did.

Giving parents a writing assignment makes me equally as uncomfortable as it made Logan. It reminds me of the time my CPS-worker sister did a bonding assessment on my toddler and me unawares, long before she became a parent. So I guess we both found the assignment intrusive and kind of freaky. We can’t decide; is it a nosey getting-to-know-you exercise, or a let’s see how well these parents know their kid exercise? Either one, we’d rather abstain.

Logan loves to write. He’s been writing fifty-plus page stories for years. He will enjoy learning all that you have to teach him this year. He’s a great kid with a positive attitude, and he’ll knock himself out trying to please you and perform up to your expectations. Just don’t expect him to dish about his private bidness.

Reclusively yours,

Earlgirl

Sweet September

2010-09-10T18:51:00.000-07:00

What's sweet about September? Not much, but does roll off the tongue, doesn't it? Our big news is that a skunk killed both our ducks! Kit Kat and Sweaty Bicep, alas, are no more. We set traps and on the second night, the mystery killer was revealed. It was none other than an adorable skunk. Seriously, it had the sweetest face! Of course, I didn't see its face until after it was dead and I was in no danger of being sprayed....

This is our dead skunk. Lewis was merciful, and put it to sleep under a tarp with fumes piped in from a tube in the exhaust pipe. It doesn't look like a vicious killer, does it?
But this is what it did to me sweet little Leghorn that was just getting ready to lay thundreds of eggs for me.
Note to Skunk: Don't come between me and my beloved chickies and/or ducks. The fumes of justice will seep in upon you.

Did This Just Really Happen?

2010-09-03T08:12:00.000-07:00

How could time have flown like this? I went from this, in 2005,

To this 2 year old in 2007 wistfully watching his best buddies leave him,
To this confident boy, ready to take on life. I just put this kiddo on a school bus, and as he made his big leap into the wide, wide world, I felt a giant tug under my ribs.
There he goes!

There he is, sitting next to Kelton peeking over the seat.

So proud of you Liam!

Making Tear Soup

2010-08-21T15:09:00.000-07:00

A sweet friend stopped by yesterday and gave me a present. When I opened it up, there was a children's book called Tear Soup. Along with the story, there was a journal, a very applicable copy of a conference talk, and a letter from her. She is also acquainted with grief, and her words touched my heart so much that there are puckers on the letter now. I laid down and read the story. Lewis has been out of town, so I really had time to think and ponder. I went out to the shop and dug up all the photos of Michael I could find. I started writing in the journal all the things Michael's children will want to know about him. An idea hit me, and I scoured my old email archives and found a treasure trove of communication between us. I cleaned the house and got some really cleansing sobbing done. I feel a little better for it. I found some really fun pictures too.

Did you know gmail keeps a record of every IM session? I didn't, and I'm so glad they do! Take a look at one I found:

2:54 PM michael: Hey sis,

me: Hello Brutha'

2:57 PM michael: How's life?

me: busy, exciting, and stretching me. you?

2:59 PM michael: nice, I'm in the lull time of the day. these are the only thirty minutes of my day until I go to sleep that I can relax.

me: I'm kinda doing that too.

3:00 PM michael: so, any new drama?

3:01 PM me: yeah, an electrical inspector came by that could have cost us 20,000. But it didn't. I almost cried. Just a few lilttle changes to the basement bathroom, and all this well.

3:03 PM michael: hurray!

we might have made new friends,

me: yeah? anyone interesting?

michael: Jen has been so starved for friends she been getting a little depressed

3:04 PM they live down the street and have a great Dane 2 six feet albino boas and a bearded dragon

me: you're not friend enough for her? What is she, some kind of women's libber?

michael: and they shoot guns for fun!

3:05 PM I guess not

me: wow, they sound cool!

I know I love my friends. We've been appreciating the beauty of gerard butler today.

3:06 PM michael: I'm always cautions when I start hanging out with people. but Jen just throws herself into friendships

Who is that?

3:07 PM me: who's that? Gerard Butler of 300 fame?

michael: ?

me: Holy hunk of manliness fame? We've been watching P.S. I love you.

3:08 PM You've never seen the cover of the movie 300?

michael: are you talking about the guy in 300?

spartans?

me: yeah. gerard butler.

3:09 PM michael: oh okay, crazy movie

yep very manily

me: never seen it.

3:11 PM michael: clean flicks. I loved it until a bad guy forces this guys wife to sleep with him. that kind of stuff enrages me. so the whole movie has a bad taste in my mouth

me: gotta dash, kid in a tree!

It just makes me smile. Our conversations were frequently about nothing much, but there were the ones, usually when we were walking together, that I never want to forget. I'm glad I have a special journal now to record them in. So this has been an intense weekend, but a good one. The story helped me realize that I don't have to sidestep the hard days. I'm just making tear soup and that's part of the process of healing.

Forks in the Road

2010-08-13T02:42:00.000-07:00

I feel like I've been in a super-intensive course on life in the last couple of weeks since my brother died. I've learned so very much- about what's really important, what's not, about the human condition, and what paths lead to the most peace. Here are some musings:

I've learned from my brother that moments and relationships are not to be neglected. You'll never regret loving investment in the lives of others. You may regret busyness, time wasted, self-indulgent isolation (ahem, guilty)but never the smiles, hugs and meaningful contact.

I've learned that success at the end of this life really is measured on how determined you are to keep trying, and giving what you have to give. You don't need to be someone flashy, super financially successful, or with really prestigious responsibilities at church to be greeted as a heroic finisher of this test.
I'll never forget the look on my brother's face when I first saw his body. He hadn't been 'doctored' up yet, and it was a very emotionally and physically raw experience. I looked into that precious, familiar face. I saw the most beautiful hint of a smile. There was such peace, such pride and satisfaction. There was a powerful witness that this good man had finished his mission successfully.
Knowing my brother so well, and we were confidants, knowing his struggles, frustrations and weaknesses, has really helped me to see my life in a different way. I've learned that feeling discouraged at your progress in life, feeling weak or ineffectual, feeling like you are nowhere near where you should be in any given area, is just part of the human condition. It is part of this mortal state that we all will leave behind when we leave this life. It's not a sign of failure or spiritual retardation- it's just life. If I'm waiting to feel totally on top of things- to feel like I'm finally picking up speed and cruising along this highway of life- as a sign that I've "made it", I'll be waiting in dread my whole life. That's just not what this life is about.

I'm learning so much about grief. Right now, my favorite scripture is Isaiah 61:3. It talks about mourning in Zion, which I take to mean placing your grief at the feet of the Lord, and letting Him do what he can with it. If we're willing to do this, and forgo regrets, blame, and anger, He promises us "beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." I have really, truly felt these promises come true for me. Not all the time, but enough to get through the day. The best promise is in the next sentence: "that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord." To me, this means that my family's spiritual roots will grow so deep, that this experience will give us strength and faith that will last generations.

I've also realized that every time something hurts us, disappoints us, or messes with the way we think life should be, it's like a fork in the road. We're presented with a choice, whether we're conscious of it or not. I was most aware of this during our journey to the funeral. Something had gone wrong, and it hurt. I let a few tears out, then there was almost a voice in my head. "You can choose to be hurt, or you can choose peace." I was perfectly justified either way. As soon as I was conscious of that fork in the road, it was easy to choose peace. I immediately felt better. I could let it go. I was aware today of another fork in the road. Today was a hard day, and I was feeling the loss very keenly. I spent hours on Michael's facebook page throughout the day. I pored over pictures, watched videos over and over. A friend stopped by, and our conversation turned to the heavy burdens she was carrying. My weight of grief lifted as I showed love and concern. There came that voice again, whispering that I could choose. I could turn inward and make a meal of my pain and loss, or I could open my heart and turn outward and find relief in caring for others. Again, I could be justified either way. That was a pretty powerful lesson for me.
This hasn't been easy. It really hurts. I'm so grateful though, really flooded with gratitude for the help, the peace, the little messages that all is well. Michael has proven to still be the caring brother he was in life. I've learned so much about him, about what is important to him, in the help and little 'jobs' we've been given. I've never been more sure of life after death. I've never been less afraid of death. I really, truly look forward to the day when we're together again.

O Brother, Where Art Thou?

2010-07-28T17:05:00.000-07:00

I know where my brother is. I know he still exists. I can feel him, hear him in my mind, sometimes laughing, sometimes rueful, but always loving. I know with absolute certainty that someday, his dramatic and too-early exit will make perfect sense, and that we will be astounded at the beauty and majesty of our Father's plan for our family.

I can't introduce you to my brother. How does one describe the coolest brother in the world? One who, when he shows up, draws children out of the woodwork like the pied piper? One who plays guitar in a rock band, who has (and uses) actual ninja swords? One who can envelope you in a hug so huge you can barely see the light of day? One who always wants to talk to you, one who is always dreaming up new adventures.... I can't really do him justice. All I can say, is that it is unfathomable that the world can keep turning, that the sun can still rise without him.

Catchup

2010-07-13T13:02:00.000-07:00

Wow, we've had some crazy days lately. First of all, we got here and Lewis got busy setting up a business to do business development consulting. He got all up and rolling, then he drove into the parking lot of a dealership. His stomach turned. I told him he didn't have to work in the auto industry anymore. We have some money left from when our house sold, so he has a little time to figure out what he really WANTS to do. How many people get a chance to do that? Take some time find what will really be fun and interesting to do. That's the short version. The longer, more painful version contains many headaches, sleepless nights, horrible stress-induced allergic reactions. To get to a place where we felt freed up to think outside the box, Lewis got a blessing from his father where he was told to "do what will bring you joy." On the short drive home from Lewis' parents house, a thought took hold of me, something totally out of the blue. Here's the result- I'm going back to school to be a high school teacher. Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!!
It's nothing I would have ever thought of, but I can't tell you how excited I am. I just paid my tuition today, and got a horrible picture taken for my student ID. How hilarious is that?
I have an easy schedule starting in Sept, at a local jr college. I leave after the kiddos leave for school, and I get back a few minutes after Liam gets off the bus. With Lewis working from home(I'll get to that in a minute), Leebee will have Daddy to welcome him home and eat his lunch with. Come January, I'll start the secondary ed program at EWU.
Lewis, after reading 48 Days to the Work You Love by Dan Miller, realized he's happiest when he's building things and using his artistic side. So, his first month giving art a try, he's secured enough commissions to pay the bills. He also is doing some independent construction work on the side, which he loves, because he gets to use his cool power tools. It's really weird, but we've been able to plan our lives from the bottom up- figure out what's most important and build up from there. Once I registered for school (and got over the freak out over that huge change) I haven't had another sleepless night. I don't worry about the future any more. A huge burden has been lifted. Life is very good, and we have SO much time together as a family, which is the most important thing for us.
Here's a painting he did of Dainon; I love it. I want him to do one of me now. Can't you just picture how cool it would be to have a gigantic nude, right as you come in the door? ;)

Lewis watched 5 boys for me when I went to girls camp, earning himself a crown in heaven. Can you imagine 10 boys for 6 days?
Liam was in heaven too. He had so many little buddies to play with.
Lewis is getting ready for the boy scout high adventure, they made model trebuchets to get ready for the big one they're going to make. So life is good! We're happy, healthy, and all is well!

Photoshop Fun

2010-06-09T22:06:00.000-07:00

Lewis bought me a cool camera when our house sold, and I've been having a great time figuring it out. So far, I have the point, click and focus parts pretty much down. Aperture, focal length and ISO are pretty much eluding me, but I'm trying. Yesterday I dove into the deep waters of photoshop. I watched tutorials on youtube, and had to pause them every few seconds and rewind over and over. Photoshop is like the mind of a woman, to a man. Unfathomable depths. You can totally screw things up with some errand click you didn't realize you even did. I had to restart things several times. But I'm learning. I'll get it, I promise. Here are some of my projects today:

I know some day soon I'll laugh at what a terrible job I did on these, but today, I'm proud of myself!

Our Growing Family

2010-05-18T20:19:00.001-07:00

We did it! We've been talking a lot lately about expanding our family, so we all went down to the feed store and we did it!

Is there anything cuter than a baby chick?

How about a baby duck?

What about two of them, a male and a female, that love and cuddle each other? It's so adorable, if you pick one of them up, the other cries until you cuddle them both. They kiss when they're reunited. It's just soooo sweet! Dainon and Logan have named them Kit Kat and Sweaty Bicep. Guess which one is the boy?

Our murderous chicken-killing dog was irresistibly drawn to the new babies. I can just hear her thinking, "Just one little bite! That's all I ask!"

Here's Logan holding the cuddling ducks, with Jill looking on- waiting, hoping.

"One day, one sweet day, you're gonna get lax. You're gonna turn your head for just a second, and I'll be ready."

We got a mix of eaters and layers. In just five short weeks, I get to post about the guys chopping 5 of their heads off. Eek!

The rest, ten of them, get to be ours for good. Or at least until Jill, hawks, or coyotes get them. What do you think? How long will it be until the first one moves on to its reward?

"Why ducks?" you ask. I thought they would be fun. We'll let them have little ducky babies, and either eat them, or let someone who likes baby ducks eat them. We'll keep the breeding pair around though. What's a little farm without ducks?

Catch Up

2010-05-17T15:42:00.000-07:00

I feel like I'm so behind. I've started to post so many times, but just get diverted before I'm done. So I decided to give a reader's digest version of the last few weeks.

*I'm obsessed with home decorating lately. I've scored big time at yard sales, and have bought a ton of spray paint. I'm having the time of my life.

*I had a great Mother's Day. I scored a lilac, burning bush, heirloom tomatoes, chocolates and adorable things from my boys.

*I got to speak in Church on Mother's Day, along with Lewis and Dainon. I love speaking in church. I wish I could do it every week, but they won't let me :)

*I hosted the whole Earl clan that very same day. We ate, and played baseball in our field. Good times, good times.

*My Mom, Dad and Grandma came over for a visit. We took them all over the back of the property, even the boys' fort. They were good sports.

*Lilacs are blooming right outside my back door, leaving me transported with joy.

*Fruit trees are blooming, and hidden treasures in the back forest have been found: massive elderberry trees, choke cherry bushes, and a wild apple tree. Jam, anyone?

*We're still Earls, even though we moved. So of course there is a rope swing, and kids to play with Kelton.

*I'm taking my first baby steps at decorating. What do you think? Like the little mirrors and basin and pitcher? Recognize them from the spray paint picture?

*Jill is in heaven digging everywhere for gophers. No squirrels to chase here.

* Isn't this picture a thing of beauty? Three cheers for having boys old enough to mow the lawn!

*The boys had their Father/Son campout, which is also known as National Mothers of Only Sons Holiday. I was down with a grevious injury (I sliced the top of my foot pretty deeply) and was ordered to STAY DOWN. Which I did, so my friend Elisa brought a girls night party to me. Tons of food, lots of laughs... it was great.

We have big plans coming up. They involve these, >and these.

And just maybe this:

Some Photos

2010-05-08T10:19:00.000-07:00

Okay, I couldn't wait for my modem to get here. I decided to post a Missy-Eye view of some of the cool things here. This is the deer trail that leads off our property to where the herd beds down at night. It's a 2-acre parcel of thick brush and a huge basalt hill. There's the coolest tree that forms a natural canopy-like fort that the boys have claimed as their own. Except that one day, Dallin went busting in there to find himself face-to-face with a mama deer and her baby. He showed remarkable presence of mind and just backed away slowly. It's a wonderland back there, I tell you.

I love the sunflowers here. They're everywhere, just growing wild.

This was my first day with my camera. A Golden eagle obliged me by circling overhead.

This photo makes me so happy. The nails, the creosote on the post, the twisted barbed wire... I love it.

This is my new spice garden. I dug it myself. It was quite a feat! I'm growing parsley, cilantro, thyme, rosemary, tarragon, chives from my last spice garden, sweet marjoram, lavender, and lemon balm. I still need sage, sweet basil, mint and oregano. Except oregano might just have to be potted. Have you seen how oregano spreads? It was a weed in my last yard. I'm going to use the rest of the space as a kitchen garden. There will be no big garden plot this year. This is what the beds look like right now.
Fancy, huh? It used to be a worm farm. We'll need to pull off the orange insulation, the rotten wood on top, cut down the trees that have grown up, scrape out the weeds, add tons of topsoil- then we'll be ready to plant. See why I'm waiting for next year?

But at least one project is completed! I painted my shutters black. Or, I got Lewis to paint them for me. They used to be the same color as my door- Ack! Don't they look loverly?

There's so much more rain here, there's lichen all over the trees. LOVE the color! It reminds me of my carpet. Wait- I love the color OUTSIDE.

Remember when I said there was a lot more rain here? I love this photo.

New pink life bursting forth. What do you think- apples? That's my guess. But what kind?! It's a mystery unfolding right here.

This is a great blue heron I saw yesterday while fishing/taking pictures with Logan. This is about a half mile from our house.

This is my pile of rocks that we dug from our field. We're going to use them in our landscaping! (clapping hands giddily) I can't wait to find a home for these lovelies.
So there you have it. Not any photos of inside, but as I get projects done, I'll post them.

Almost There.....

2010-05-05T19:29:00.000-07:00

I won't consider myself fully moved in until I have Internet access. "What?!" you say, "Haven't you already lived there over a month?"
Yes, I have. For many weeks I was in rebellion against confiscatory Internet prices here. Did you know, in Kennewick, I only paid $26 a month for really decent speed Internet? Here, the cheapest I could find is around $75 for not nearly as fast. I have abstained on principle. But, I just can't take it any longer. AND.... I got a rocking camera that I'm having so much fun with. I'm dying to post all the pictures of my life here. Any day now, you will see eagles soaring overhead. Piles of rocks that this chickybabe has dug from her very own field, destined to become a wall around her spankin' new spice garden. You'll see my best thrift store find ever, a delicious black leather club chair I nabbed for $20! Life is very good here. We've been busy getting to know people at church, inviting someone over at least once a week. Lewis has been working like crazy getting his business up and running, but he's still had time for planning a cabin he and his father are building this spring/summer, playing baseball with us in our field, snuggling up and watching movies... those kinds of things.
Here's one I took of Dall. Oh, the joys of leaving my cruddy point and shoot behind! I'm just barely learning, but it's really fun work. Hopefully, in a day or so, I can fill you in fully on exactly what our lives here look and feel like. Until then....I'll watch American Idol and fret over who gets sent home!

Know What I Saw Last Night?

2010-04-09T12:40:00.000-07:00

Lewis and I had a busy day yesterday schlepping the last of the stuff from our storage unit to our new home. What a windy day that was! My parents were kind enough to take a load too, and come see our house. Oh, joy! To see my parents again, in my new home really filled my cup. After the dust had settled and our guests were on their way, Lewis and I snuck out for some food. Did you know that things close really, really early in this small town? The diner closed at 7, that left a Chinese restaurant, a bar, and Mexican. We chose the Mexican, and they were just about to close (it was 8:30). They sweetly stayed open just for us, and we had a lovely meal. It reminded us so much of the Tri-Cities. We chatted with the owner, and she laughed when she told us that they were the only Mexican family in town. Can you imagine that?
As we were pulling away from the curb, we noticed a small animal in front of the Chinese restaurant, about the size of a cat. We could tell it wasn't by the way it moved. We turned the car into the parking lot, so our lights would shine on it, and what do you know! It was a raccoon. It stood there, looking at us, and then meandered over to a bowl on the lawn that must have been left there for it. This is a different world over here, my friends, a different world.

Mustache Mischief Managed

2010-04-07T20:17:00.000-07:00

So yesterday was a hard day. I was feeling really low, and even allowed myself a few tears. Just a few, because, like I said before, I didn't want a red puffy face for my meeting at the school. That would be so embarrassing- to look like a freak in front of the counselor, principal, and about 7 teachers. Who would want to do that?
So instead of crying, I messed around with my makeup in my new bathroom. Attached to the wall in my new master bath, is one of those lighted mirrors that magnifies your face like crazy. It's horribly disgusting and fascinating- every blemish, every stray hair stands out like a neon sign. I spied some tweezers and went to town, blissfully distracted from my sorrows. I glanced at the clock and gasped. How time had flown! I dashed out the door and drove to the school. I ended up being early and I took a last quick peek in the car mirror. What I saw turned my blood to ice: a bright red mustache on my upper lip, and my eyebrows were glowing crimson. Oh, the plucking!!! It's a good think I didn't cry and make myself look like a weirdo, right?
I cast around for an idea. "I know," I thought, "I should rub my face and pinch my cheeks so my whole face looks equally red!" Genius. I did just that. I was sporting a very, very healthy glow when I breezed into the school. I had to wait a few minutes for the teachers to arrive, so I nonchalantly strolled past a mirrored wall to check the damage. Dang! I was every bit as mustachioed! I rubbed, rubbed and rubbed some more, hoping against hope that by the time the teachers made it, my features would look normal again. Then I saw the drinking fountain. Cool water! That HAD to help. I bathed my hands and rubbed my face. As I straightened up, I saw a group of teachers had gathered, waiting for me. One approached me with an outstretched hand. "Hi! Pleased to meet you, sorry, my hand is wet." Doh. Does it get any dorkier? I was stuck. I went into the meeting, feeling like I was on the way to my own execution. During the meeting, every time they looked at me, I was sure they were thinking, "What's wrong with her face? Poor thing, she must have a skin condition." I fancied I could see the sympathy in their eyes. I tried to cover for myself, looking contemplative and rubbing my upper lip, but I knew it was no use.
I drug my feet as I made my way to the car, inwardly cringing at what I would see in the car mirror. I sat down, took a deep breath, and peeked at the swollen horror that was my face. I looked totally normal- except my cheeks had a rather healthy glow. I laughed all the way home.

I'd Forgotten

2010-04-06T14:11:00.000-07:00

I swear, I will never, ever again forget how it feels to be new. The hope that someone, anyone will come visit. The thrill when the phone rings with an invitation. The constant replaying and questioning of every word I said. Did I sound too eager? Snobby? Dorky? Like someone they would want to be friends with?
I wipe away tears from my boys' eyes as they grieve for the lives they have left behind. I allowed few tears too, but only one or two, because I have to go meet with teachers soon, and I don't want a blotchy face. Who wants a blotchy face? No one.
I will never see a new family at church without inviting them to something, no matter how trivial it seems to me. When you're on the other end, it's not trivial, it's everything.

Here. For Reals.

2010-04-02T15:39:00.000-07:00

Wow. This was one long, drawn out move. But it's over now! Well, pretty much over. There are still a couple of pickup loads in the storage unit, but the old house is vacant. My new house looks like I couldn't make more of a mess if I tried. Monday I enroll the boys in school, but I lost everyone's birth certificates except for Kelton's. I should have copies of 4 out of 5 by then. I wonder what they'll do to my poor guy that was born out of state. Think they'll let him in? We'll see. Tonight will be our first, real life night in the new house. We've been foiled the last two nights, thank goodness for Lewis' Dad taking us in! It's snowing right now, pouring down. There have been so many deer in our yard too, in broad daylight! I have really and truly left the desert.

Jitters

2010-03-31T09:09:00.000-07:00

Today is the day. The big one. Moving day. I'm hanging out at my parent's house, cancelling services, transferring others, and doing laundry. I can handle that. Think of it though, tonight, for the first time in many weeks, I'll sleep in my very own bed. Wow. Wish me luck today!

We Now Interrupt this Vacation....

2010-03-25T21:03:00.000-07:00

For a little update. First of all, this is our first real family vacation. Let me just say, I have learned so much.

Like how a little 15 foot motor home is not big enough for 7 people.

3 days at Disneyland are just about right.

I can not take this degree of family closeness. All I can say, is Thank You, gender gods! At least I have time in the restrooms by myself, and I have visited every restroom in both Disney parks multiple times.

Planning to cook all our meals in advance and freeze them for the trip was a good idea. But between packing, moving stuff out, cleaning, showing my home and all, it wasn't practical. Haven't made one meal. Wait- we had sandwiches at a rest stop the first day, that counts.

It's expensive to eat out. We did the all-you-can-eat bbq at Disneyland, figuring we could splurge on one sit down dinner, and you know how much it was? $189. I told the boys, "Eat all the ribs you can! We need to get our moneys' worth out of this meal!"

Liam isn't the baby we all thought he was. He totally earned the nickname "stones" because he has a serious pair. He rode every ride with us, even the Tower of Terror. There was one ride, Dallin and I were clutching each other, eyes screwed shut saying over and over to each other "Just pretend Dad is pushing us on the swing!" All the while, Liam was having a great time peering over the edge. We actually went on all the rides together as a family, baby rides, scary rides, we only split up for two rides he wasn't tall enough for.

I've managed to take a few moments here and there to keep current. I've heard that Paige was sent home. (finally! I'm still not over Lilly and the Lambert kid getting cut) I know that health care reform was passed, and Joe Biden dropped the f-bomb during a press conference (hee hee! he's so great for comic relief).

I also know that I am really, really ready to go home. And I really want to have a home to go home to.

Homeless

2010-03-16T22:46:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm not really homeless, just kinda in between homes. I packed up my computer today, and took off my sheets. Eek! Ever look at your mattress top? As in, picture someone else hauling your bare mattress around in broad daylight? That baby's getting one of those zip on covers first thing in the morning!

We've been through a lot of drama this week. Our house sale fell through. Then we had not one, but three plumbing/earthworks disasters. While we were showing the house. Ordinarily, just one of those would have been enough to throw me over the edge. I, however, lived through the loan process for our next house. I think it was almost as bad, and we lived to tell the tale. Towards the end, I was asking the loan officer, "Would you like a urine sample as well? Maybe a little bone marrow?" Would have been less painful, believe me. The loan guy was so apologetic by the end. "I know this is bad," he kept telling me, "I can't believe you haven't just walked away!"

It was so gnarly because our current (former?) home was an in-family purchase without any escrow company or anything.

It sounds so silly and melodramatic of me, but there have been so many days where I just have to take a deep breath and tell the universe "I choose life! I choose to live through this!" Really. I know it sounds stupid, but it's true. All's well that ends well, right?

Right now, I now am curled up in the warm nest of my parent's house, and will be sleeping here until we leave for vacation early Friday morning. I'll spend the next two days doing the final packing and cleaning of the home I've lived the longest in since I was born.

If you want to stop by, you'll find me there. I'll be the one brandishing a packing tape dispenser wearing crazy braids, snowflake jammies and maniacally glinting eyes.

Oh, and we got three offers on our house yesterday, and accepted one of them.

Gone in 60 Seconds

2010-03-10T14:20:00.001-08:00

That's what it felt like, anyway. We put our house up on Craigslist Sunday night, and BAM! We had offers by Monday afternoon. We are now officially under contract for our full asking price. Want to see my Craigslist ad? I was pretty proud of it! This way you can see it all the way done.

*You know what some angels did for me the day my house showed? They saw me in distress, swooped in, scrubbed, cleaned, folded, begged, borrowed and staged my home. And absolutely saved the day. Thanks for flying so low that day, ladies!*

Built in the late fifties, this home of nearly 3,000 sq ft. is solidly built and thoroughly updated with a 1 month old 20 year roof, new (jan '10) furnace and heat pump, new carpet (feb '10), bathrooms, exterior and interior paint. Refinished hardwood floors shine. There are two fireplaces, with a pellet stove upstairs, and wood-burning insert downstairs, making winter-time heat plentiful and cheap.

This home boasts the coolest treefort in the area, two rope swings for endless hours of entertainment, and a firepit for hot dogs and marshmellos on summer nights.

With over .33 of an acre of mature landscaping, there are so many fun places to explore and play.

A huge patio is perfect for bbqs, or can fit a good-sized above ground pool.

The master suite has a 6 foot Jacuzzi brand jetted tub with an inline heater so the water stays the perfect temp. Imported Italian porcelain tile, a gorgeous granite-topped vanity, double shower, and a walk-in closet make this a perfect retreat.

Nestled back from the street, the circular driveway is a kids dream to ride down on everything with wheels, but there is still ample parking. Just a block in length, this quiet neighborhood is a haven for children.

The front room is open to the dining room, with a nook adjoining it that is perfect for a computer or office. A built-in china cabinet adds charm.

There's another rope swing in the front, along with lots of flowering trees. This lot is shady and cool in the heat of summer. It has the largest magnolia trees in the area, white dogwood, pecan, a snowball bush hedge, lilacs, rose of sharon, and a producing fig tree. In the far back is a thornless blackberry patch whose berries grow to the size of a thumb and produce until late fall.

The basement family room allows children to play as loudly as they want without disturbing the peace of the top floor. With an adjoining second kitchen this would be a perfect mother-in-law setup, or craft kitchen.

The entryway- with a coat closet on the left. Right is the hallway to the powder room, master suite and 2nd bedroom. Front right is the staircase leading to the daylight basement.

At the bottom of the stairs you have bedrooms 3, 4, and 5. The two bedrooms on the left hand side are non-egress. There is storage under the stairs, and opposite the stairs is a bathroom with toilet, sink and shower. Laundry facilities and a huge storage room are at the end of the hall leading to the family room and second kitchen.

Built on a ridge, the back side of the house has a beautiful view.

In Love

2010-03-05T16:26:00.000-08:00

This is my favorite season of all! After the gray, dismal winter, crocuses bloom. The forsythia is out in all its lemony glory. New life is everywhere. It's warm, and the neighbor kids forsake their electronic games and play, play, play till they drop.
As I see the sunlight streaming in through the windows, hear the happy shouts of children floating on the air, see the way the new tender leaves glow when the light hits them, I am so in love with my home, my neighborhood, and my life here.
I can't even fathom leaving it. Ouch.

Is there anyone in the world who hasn't seen you naked!?

2010-03-04T18:35:00.000-08:00

That's what my sister asked me today when I told her what happened.
"Um, not many" I admitted.
It was an ordinary morning. It was almost 9 when I hopped in the shower. It was a lovely shower, boy am I gonna miss two shower heads! I stepped out and began rubbing Vaseline on my skin. It really helps hold the moisture in, and no, it doesn't feel greasy. I was taking my time, enjoying the moment alone.
Movement caught my eye, and there in the window, was the painter. I couldn't see his eyes, just from the chin down.
I leapt into a towel, and dashed out of the room.
I hid in the boys' room with my phone.
"Angie- my painter just saw me naked!"
"Well, at least you don't have huge boobs."
Would it be worse if I had huge boobs? I don't know.
He came inside to ask me something, and his face betrayed no embarrassment.
Did he see?
How could he not?
The window was a little fogged up... but I could see him...
Did I give an unintended show?
It's a mystery, my friends. A mystery.

Just when you think you have it all together.....

2010-03-02T17:26:00.001-08:00

This morning was going great. I had a lovely night's sleep, the packing is going swimmingly. With the exception of my range spitting flames at me and shocking my arm, my dishwasher leaking, and a few other choice experiences, my Monday had gone well. There was one great thing- I had a leaky faucet. It leaked and leaked. I really wanted it fixed. I turned off the water to the sink, but guess what? It still leaked. The plumber came and looked at it- supposedly fixed it, but still, drip drip drip. I had an idea I wanted to try, but I was vetoed. "Better let the professional handle it" He told me. Yesterday, I figured the pro had taken his crack at it (plumber's crack, get it?) and now it was my turn! Know what I did? I put a bead of silicon all around the offending joint and you know what? I FIXED IT! THAT'S RIGHT. ME. MY IDEA. Ha.

Anyway, on to this morning. Things were going pretty well. I'd taped and mudded the ceiling of my shower, and did a dang good job. I LOVE taping inside corners. It's very soothing. Then I kicked it into gear and bathed Liam, got him dressed, out the door, and dropped off to preschool. On the way to see my lover, aka Home Depot, my phone rang. Angie had just dropped her daughter off at preschool. My brain clunked a gear. If her daughter was at preschool.....it wasn't Liam's day for preschool! It wasn't Wednesday after all! I felt a moment of vertigo and a disturbance in the time/space continuum. Then I laughed my head off. Poor Liam was very much traumatized to be there with the wrong class. There were tears, and I came to his rescue as soon as I'd paid for my packing boxes, masking paper, paint and tape.

T minus 17

2010-03-01T07:42:00.000-08:00

That's how many days I have until the great exodus, or at least until the vacation before the great exodus. We'll only be here overnight when we get back from vacation. Things are actually coming together! Just one room has exposed sheet rock, and that's from a closet that was framed on Saturday! On Sunday, we cleaned up the construction area of the yard and dumped all the debris in the truck, so we look like hicks again. Sorry, I can't include a pic, but I think I packed my power cord to my camera. It's an impressive sight though.
I'm going to freeze a bunch of meals for the vacation, we're staying in a motor home, to save money. I feel like I'm hemorrhaging money these days. Seriously, if you cut me, hundred dollar bills and sheet rock plaster will come out. I go to Home Depot an average of twice a day.
I hatched a scheme to freeze meals ahead of time, so I just have to pop them in the crock pot or oven, and thus save about a thousand dollars. Which sounds good to me right now. I'm fine-tuning my menu for treats, lunches and snacks. Any suggestions?

The Score

2010-02-23T20:06:00.000-08:00

I have to fight the urge to rate myself at the end of the day. I have the disability/super power (depending on how you look at it) of not letting myself get over taxed. I was really discouraged after a particularly languid day, and my mom shed some light on this aspect of my world. She told me that when I was living at her house, she watched me, how I handled the stress of my day. She was amazed how in tune I am with what kind of resources I have left, how I always know what will make them regenerate. I love the way she sees that part of me., because a lot of the time, I feel like the world's biggest weenie. It's true, though, I have an innate self-preservation instinct that literally shuts me down when life gets to be too much. I need down time, processing time, and then I'm ready to face life again. If I waited for someone to say, "You've been working too hard, why don't you take a break?" I would die.
For example, last week we signed on our new house. This was a wrench. The loan process was especially gruelling, and you'd think closing would be a celebration. It felt more like a funeral to me. I buried my head in Guernsey Literary Society for the drive back, blinking back tears, and spent the rest of the day in bed. From noon on. I never slept, I was just there, on Guernsey, learning more about the Nazi occupation. The burden of my own world was just too heavy.
Being able to work yourself sick is seen as such a virtue. Isn't there a virtue in keeping yourself sane by taking the time to feel what you're feeling, acknowledge it, and make your way toward clarity?
If there is such a virtue, I'm its patron saint!
So here's the score for today:
One comprehensive list of every minute chore left on the house, color-coded by individual responsibility.
One trip to my second home, Home Depot, as soon as Lewis left for work.
One Whopper for breakfast, because the kids ate the last of the cocoa pebbles.
Two and a half hours drilling holes, hanging curtains, screwing in switch plates and chatting with my mom. Why does working with her make the time pass so quickly?
One more trip to Home Depot, an illicit rendezvous with my Honey. To buy doors. Ack! One of them needs to be special ordered. Bad news leaves me feeling wilted. My ears are buzzing and my lips are numb at this point.
Liam and I drive our bucking and snorting truck back home, and Liam asks if he can play Spore. Indeed he can! I grab a couple of books that aren't packed, and retreat to bed for a few hours.
Kim comes to see our renovations!
I was about to head back to bed when I noticed my icky hair. I shower, and face the passel of kids roaming my home and yard. Our exterior is being painted, and can you believe it? Four extra kids are running around. That makes 9 kids Victor has to keep from messing up his paint job.
Dainon and I conspire to move the TV back upstairs. It's huge, and takes two grown men to move, but I've been without TV for a month. Should I move it? No. But did we? Yes. We balanced it on a dolly and wedged it into the house. We plug it in with great anticipation. No channels. I call tech support. Channels! But no sound. After four calls to tech support, SUCCESS!
One quick trip to Fred Meyer for bread. How can they burn through bread so quickly?
A hastily prepared dinner, growing pains and sobs from the little one, push ups for the olders who aren't doing dishes when they should be. Some stolen time in front of the computer.
And I think I'm done.
I'd say today was a smashing success.
It may not be 9pm yet, but this Chicky is done.

A New Adventure

2010-02-20T12:21:00.000-08:00

The Sunday before Christmas started out like any other. I was curling my hair in front of the mirror, and Lewis was putting on his tie. We'd had the Earl family Christmas the day before, near Spokane, and we were discussing his family.

"You know," I was saying, "I think you should spend more time with your family. Maybe you should go hang out for a weekend every now and then."

He looked thoughtful, then got a funny, pensive look on his face.

"Or, we could move there." He said.

Our eyes locked, and my heart started pounding. We stared into each other's eyes, and we knew without talking that we were moving.

During church, it was all I could think about. I was sitting up with the choir, looking into the faces that I have grown to love so dearly. My mind lingered on older couples, who when I first moved in, took up an entire row with their children. I saw the empty places where the Hansens' used to sit. How many years has it been since they passed away? I was blessed as a baby in that very chapel. When I'd been living is Kansas, we'd traveled home- here- when my sister died, and her funeral was held here.

Growing up as an Air Force family, this place held the gravitational pull that kept us in orbit. I'd intended to stay here forever.

Adventure was calling though, the unknown! Somewhere new, new faces and new experiences..... so exciting. Lewis' job is not in Spokane. What would he do for a living? Scary question, huh? Little by little, the pieces have fallen in place and God's plan for us is coming together. We've seen miracles, for reals and for trues miracles.

And then there was the issue of where in Spokane. You know how big that place is? We'd be picking the high school our kids go to. If we don't choose right the first time, they'd be stuck. I'm not uprooting them again! We had to get it right the first time. I spent hours scouring homes, neighborhoods, schools on the internet. There's the northside, where Lewis' sister lives... or the valley, where his other sister lives. There's over by the temple, that would be nice, or what about downtown? An urban area might be cool, we'd surely be in a ward that really needed us.... It was a huge question mark, always in my mind. One day, I found a home outside of Cheney, where I went to high school. I called Lewis' dad to see if he would check it out. He was surprised that we were looking in his area of town. He didn't need any more encouragement than that. He looked under every rock to find a home close by them, by Medical Lake.

At this time, we were up to our eyeballs in construction. It would be months before our home sold. What was the point of looking at homes there? I told him that I was taking a break in my search, until we were closer to having our home sold. He called the next day.

"I found your home."

"Oh, is that right?" I asked him, hiding a smile.

I hopped on the computer and asked for the address.

"Wow!" I said, it looks great! Just then, Lewis walked in the door for lunch. He looked, and he loved. We got really excited.

We arranged to see the home two days later. We threw in a home in a subdivision just for kicks too.

It was very dark, cold, and very wet when we finally made it to the house. The home was a bit dated, but the property was perfect. Then we went to the subdivision. It was a newer house, with 6 bedrooms, and all the room we would need, all rolled up in a neat package. It repelled us. Alas, subdivion life is not for such as the Earl's. I think they would kick us out. It wasn't long before we knew, knew, knew that this was the place for us. Want to see it?

It looks so peaceful and serene, doesn't it? It has no idea what's in store for it. Want to see what comes with it?
All this land! Just shy of 4 acres!!! And see that huge shop? That'll be my husband's new office. Want to see how big it is?

This is just part of it. Big enough for the greatest spook alley of all time, come Halloween, huh? There's a 1 bedroom apartment framed in here too, which we plan on finishing off ('cause we can do that now!)

Back here is where my orchard is going in. Much thought and stewing is taking place on what kinds of trees I want to plant. Peaches, apricots and apples, for sure, but what about cherries? They're gross and wormy when you don't spray them just right.... any ideas?

Here's my new master bath. Sigh. No 6-foot jetted tub here. But it does have a bidet. I'm going to have to google how to use that puppy.

Views of the kitchy-kitch.

That fabulous hood makes me laugh so hard. It totally looks like a treasure chest!

This is the view from the balcony of my bedroom. First thing Liam did when he saw it was to drop trow and try to pee off it. We grabbed him quickly before the realtor saw and he got mad and threw a fit. We shoulda just let him pee.

The orange carpet causes me pain, because it's going to have to stay until we #1: sell our home and #2: save up for hardwood floors. Angie gave me a tip though, and I'm totally going to use this. It's going to be beautiful!

It's a pretty nice house, and if I hadn't just gone through (and am still kinda going through) renovation hell, I'd be a lot more excited about updating it and making it our own. We have time though, and we now have all the tools we'll ever need to practically build our own house.

Here's more room for storage (no more food storage in the house!) and this is the area where the CHICKEN COOP will go!!! We've been in intense negotiations for years about when I can get chickens. My friends, now is the time. I'll have two flocks, one for eggs, one for meat, so my boys will have to master the art of chicken plucking. Fun, huh? I'm so excited about that.

The vineyard will go on the other side of the shop, by the field. I'm thinking Concords, with table grapes on the other side of the house eventually. Oh, and I haven't even told you about the massive experimental garden behind the shop yet! That will keep for another time.

As of right now, we have just shy of four weeks until I pull the boys from school. The day after Lewis' last day of work, we head off in the motorhome (thanks grandma!) on a California adventure for 10 days. As soon as we get back (29-31 of March), we load up and head off to our new life outside Spokane. And hopefully, sometime between now and then, our house will sell.

In the meantime, my mood swings wildly between intense grief, and hopeful excitement. The boys will have their grandparents in their ward. They'll learn to shoot guns, hunt, and all that manly stuff with the Earl side of the family. I'll have a whole crop of new people who have never heard my skinny dipping stories. I'll have my husband home WAY more often- and the chickens, never forget the chickens.

How's that for a new adventure?

Checking In

2010-02-12T16:43:00.000-08:00

Hello All!

I feel like that's how my life has been the last 6 weeks. I'm checked out most of the time, and every once in a while, the clouds clear- the sun breaks through and I can breathe! We've had some major life changes, and in the last 6 weeks we've:

had a new furnace installed

re-sided the front and side of our house

replaced our roof

new carpet

three bedroom closets built

two bedrooms sheet rocked, taped, mudded (I'm a mud hen now!) sanded, textured and painted

the entire house, upstairs and down, textured and painted

sanded and refinished our hardwood floors (I sanded some- I'm an equal opportunity floor destroyer)

we have a basement bathroom that went from a muddy pit dug through our foundation to fresh cement, new framing, sheetrock and two coats of mud. The cute vanity, mirror and shelf are eagerly awaiting their new abode.

Did I forget anything? Let's see... new baseboards? Did I mention those? Vinyl tile in a couple of basement rooms....Our deck still needs to be pulled down and rebuilt, and maybe our kitchen cupboards, floor and counters replaced.... and the exterior of our house painted... in the next....what...10 days?

That's the goal anyway.

I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my mom for putting us up for TWO WHOLE WEEKS whilst our home was gutted. It was so nice to chill on her basement couch in my underwear flipping channels and drooling when it all got to be too much. Want to see what I've lived through?

The new master closet. Lewis has now learned to run electrical. A valuable skill indeed.

Our beautiful new floors! To get a mental image of what they used to be like, a few months ago, I had Liam lay down on his back so I could adjust something, and he said he couldn't, that he had an owie on his head. I felt the back of his head, and yes, there was a little lump. It was a raised black dot. I grabbed some tweezers and gave the dot a tug and....my stomach lurched. A splinter an inch long came out! I mean, it just kept coming and coming! Apparently, Liam had been scooting along the floor on his back, and zip! In goes an inch long piece of floor!

This is a barn floor no more.

This is what one half of my kitchen looked like last week. If you crane your neck, you can see my computer in there somewhere. Explains my lack of blogging, huh?

A new basement closet, and a very traumatized little dog. It's gonna take them years to ever feel secure again.

Yes, life has been kinda like Dante's Inferno. Every time I think I've arrived at the final ring of hell, surprise! There's one that's worse.

There have been definite bright spots though. A friend who sneaks dinner into my fridge while I'm gone, another who was experienced enough moving furniture to help me maneuver a king sized bed through a tiny hall, and ice cream waffle cones after cubs. Cooking with my mom in her kitchen, watching my dad play catch with my boys in their back yard...

I think we just cleared a major hurdle today in our plans though, and I've spent the last two nights in my very own bed, in my very own master suite. The new carpet is soft, and no animals have defiled it, no children have been sick on it and it feels so soft between my toes. I love the shiny floors, and I love bedtime now that four boys aren't crammed in one room. Ah! Blessed quiet.

So, could it be? Is it all downhill from here? I've never really listed a home for sale before. It's easier than what I've been through so far, right?

Right?

***If you know our plans already, you know why they're secret, so please keep them quiet for ONE MORE WEEK. Then I'll be able to announce them and include pictures! (yay) Feel free to discuss them then, ok?***

The Longest of Ever

2010-01-08T08:57:00.000-08:00

Here's a little "slice of life" post- just a funny moment from a day. I was sitting at the computer, typing away at something. The house was quiet- so nice and quiet since the boys went back to school! Liam had been minding his own business for the last hour or so when I heard him call me.
"Hey Mom! Come here!" This could only mean one thing, he'd built something he wanted to show me. If he needed something from me, it would sound a lot different from that. The curious thing was, I could tell by the echo he was in the bathroom.
"Come see mom! It's the longest of EVER!" Who can resist that?
I hurried to his location, and found him on the toilet- where he had, indeed, made something he wanted to show me.
Can I just say something? He's four. It was at least 14 inches long. How is that possible? How do they DO that?
There you go- a slice of life. It's just as if you were standing beside me in the bathroom, isn't it?

My Dirty Secret

2010-01-06T08:43:00.000-08:00

I have to confess something- get it off my chest.
First of all, am I the only one out there who hates elementary school reading slips? I loathe having to fill out how many minutes my kid read EVERY SINGLE DAY. If my second grader is home sick, he gets TWO reading slips sent home, and they better BOTH be filled out or he has some terrible punishment like missed recess. If he reads for six hours one day, is he clear for the rest of the week? No. He's still expected to read 20 minutes every day, and I still have to sign the dang slip.
So what's my dirty little secret? (smirk) I cheat. I turn on the closed captioning on my TV and let my kid watch a movie. We just finished watching the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy! That's like- 10 hours, baby! They all read every word of dialogue, but they don't even register that it's reading. Mua ha ha ha!

The Clown Family goes to Church

2010-01-04T06:32:00.000-08:00

It was the first Sunday of the year, and the time changed for our meetings from a brisk and early 9 to a languid and relaxed 11. I'd been looking forward to the change for months. But instead of a peaceful sabbath morning of church preparation, I ended up in Sunday Hell.
Because of massive renovations and the holidays, the regular laundry routine has been disrupted. There is literally no place to put the clean clothes. Don't tell me to just fold the load from the dryer. I spit upon that idea. Pt. Pt. (spitting)
So Sunday morning, all the little boys were bathed and squeaky clean with no clothes. Literally. As in, no clean underwear, white shirts, pants matching socks, or shoes. The place where the church clothes are stored wasn't even there. Where were they? It's a mystery.
By the time I made it to church, I was fuming. I stalked in late to Sacrament meeting, and where was Lewis? In the front row, naturally. No subtlety there. We had to put on an obscene fashion show, making our way to the front of the chapel.
As we sat down, I looked down the row, and had to stifle maniacal laughter.
Dainon was wearing some old men's wool trousers of mine that I had stored in the back of the van to go to Goodwill. It was a miracle that I found them! They were 3 inches too big in the waist, and two inches too long, so they were cinched with a belt. He had on a white dress shirt of Lewis', with billows around his wrists, and a sweater vest of Lewis' to camouflage the pants and shirt.
Kelton was wearing pants too big for him with no button on the waist. He wore a wrinkled white shirt with no top button and an adult men's tie with a knot as big as my fist. He wore a torn, hand-me-down jacket, white ankle socks and tennis shoes to complete the effect.
Dallin was by far ahead- he at least had dress shoes on, but not matching socks. They were visible because his pants were a good two inches too short. His shirt was too long, squeezing out from under a too-small blazer.
My boys seemed to be wearing every single item in the mending- dregs pile of Church clothes. All at the same time.
We were Klassy, man. Klassy.

Classic Dainon

2010-01-03T14:51:00.000-08:00

I found my oldest son munching on my favorite tortilla chips and sour cream. I decided it was my turn to enjoy some before the bag was empty, so I excercised my rights as mother and confiscated them both. When he protested, I told him that I could have whatever I wanted as payback for all the nights I stayed up with him as a baby.
His reply?

Wait for it, it's a classic.

He told me that he would be leaving in a few years, but the stretch marks he gave me are forever- Who wins now?
He has a valid point, and I'm still giggling over that.

Year in Review

2010-01-02T19:00:00.000-08:00

My poor orphaned blog! It's pretty sad that I still have Thanksgiving decorations. The thing is, I only have so much creative energy, and if it's diverted elsewhere..... alas for my poor blog.

I have been very busy though.

I've learned so much this year.

For one thing, I learned how to make raised doughnuts. One evening, I had a hankering for them, and that's pretty much all I did- for about 3 weeks! Lewis had to beg, "Enough with the doughnuts!" I had to perfect them. HAD to. It was all I could think about- how I could've let them raise longer, or greased the pan instead of flour. I learned that nutmeg really IS an essential ingredient, and rum flavoring works better than vanilla in the glaze. I smelled like frying grease for a really long time.

I learned that I really can leave the continental US without my husband. I'm that grown up. It really was a confidence boost to face customs, a mix-up in Amsterdam, a cancelled ticket in Dublin and help my very nervous sister through it.

Know what else I learned I could do? I can pump the gas pedal exactly 15 times before I start my husband's old pickup- then turn the key without touching the pedal and start the blessed thing. Then I can drive myself to the dump, BACK UP the truck without hitting the concrete pillars, slip on some work gloves, tiptoe through the trash in my ballet flats, and unload the sucker. I can. All by myself.

I can face a roomful of irate teachers alone.

I can handle the guilt of an entire summer spent with a backyard full of fruit and not one single jar of it canned.

I can laugh my head off when I slide sideways up to the intersection my husband warned me was icy, especially when two cops drive by just in time for me to right myself before they see.

I can look up at my oldest son. He's had to wait a long time for that. He's taller than most of his friends and they have been taller than their moms for ages.

I can look at a forgotten school lunch and not feel guilty for leaving it there.

I can (almost) embrace those extra 6 pounds.

I can really appreciate how fleeting the age of 4 really is.

I have learned to trust my husband when he says you either need to pull a permit before you start a remodeling job, or keep permits out of it entirely. Pulling a permit to assuage your conscience after the fact is not a plan. Really.

Thanks for the memories, 2009!

How I Almost Killed my Family on Thanksgiving

2009-12-08T09:25:00.000-08:00

***Prepare yourself to be shocked, and to never want to eat over at my house again.***

This was a bad Thanksgiving. I was absolutely trashed. Substituting on my friend's paper route seemed like a good idea at the time. She needed the help, and my boys needed the experience and a little bit of money. It was only four days, how hard could that be?
Never. Again. Ever.

It was awful. We were terrible.

I think we set the record for complaints.
I was a grouchy, emotional zombie, all tied up in knots. Thanksgiving was at my house; all my siblings were in town. I was doing the turkey, dressing, potatoes, jello salad, and cheesecake. Typical of me, I began days and days ahead of time.
Except for the turkey.
I was planning on brining it, but it just didn't happen. Instead, I stuck it in the microwave for about 15 minutes the day before to begin the thawing process. That thawed the skin, and maybe a little deeper, and cooked the place where I forgot the little metal clamp on the bag. After pulling it out of the microwave, I stuck the turkey in the roaster pan with the lid on, handed it over to one of the older boys, and instructed him to put it in the downstairs fridge to thaw.
Thanksgiving morning, I staggered to the kitchen to start my preparations for the big day. It was around 9, and dinner was at 1:30. Shoot! I needed to get that turkey cooking right away! I went to the basement to grab it from the fridge. The blood forsook my face when I found the fridge empty. He must have re-frozen it! I opened the chest freezer and my lips began to tingle. Not there! I ran upstairs, ransacked the upstairs fridge and freezer (as if a 22 lb turkey was hiding behind bags of frozen peas). Nowhere. My turkey was nowhere. I saw spots.
I drug the offending boy out of bed and demanded to know what he did with my turkey.
"Turkey? I never touched the turkey, you just gave me that empty pan to put away. I put it in the storage room."
I swayed on the spot and tried not to get hysterical. I dashed to the room, and found the roasting pan on the ground, lid still in place. I lifted the lid and hefted the heavy pan under his nose.
"You call that empty?!!!"
He shrugged.
"I thought you said to put it downstairs. That looked like a good place."
My mouth opened and shut again several times, no sound coming out.
What was there to say?
My practical mind clunked into place. I turned to Lewis and told him that there was no way I could serve this bacteria-ridden piece of poultry. He insisted the turkey was fine. I consulted google, and no one on google agreed.
I dug deep, and remembered a horrifying story my mom told me about chicken slaughterhouses. According to her, they throw the carcasses in heaps. After they are well on their way to the dust from whence they sprang, the processors throw them in a bleach solutions and pack them for sale. Then off they go to the shelves of our favorite stores.
Bleach!
My mind clung to that idea like a life buoy.
I filled the sink with water, and added a bit of bleach- not enough to kill anyone, but enough to kill any germs breeding in the turkey. I soaked it inside and out. Then I rinsed it like no turkey has been rinsed before.
Then I cooked the crud out of it, and broiled the skin.
Then I served it. With a tremulous smile.
I watched everyone like a hawk.
And only the offending son threw up.
How's that for irony?

Obama Teleprompter Malfunction

2009-11-24T16:25:00.000-08:00

This absolutely cracked me up! Thanks for passing this along, Jen.

Obama's Home Teleprompter Malfunctions During Family Dinner

A Sweet Gig.

2009-11-05T15:15:00.000-08:00

I've realized lately, that I have a pretty sweet deal going on over here. Do you know, the place beside me at the table is the hottest real estate in town? The spot next to me on the couch during morning scriptures is fought over. Logan never wants the drive home from violin lessons to end because it's 'our' time together without anyone else. My husband shivers with delight to get a hug, kiss or shoulder rub from me at the end of the day. My little guys melt when I wrap my arms around them, like mommy hugs are some kind of drug. Dainon's eyes light up and he flexes enthusiastically when I punch him on the shoulder. It's like I'm a sought-after celebrity that no one can get enough of. Who knew that along with the dishes and laundry came so much power to make others so very happy?
It's a very sweet gig indeed.

When is the last time you really screamed?

2009-11-03T10:14:00.000-08:00

Mine was the other day when one of my older boys shoved their cell phone to my ear and played a voice mail. It was from a girl. I heard the phrases "I've been watching you....If you want this relationship to work, you need to....I LOVE YOU...."
Then I screamed, loud and long. Then I think I fainted.

***Warning to you young ladies out there. My boys will not be played. Their mom has a black belt in feminine wiles and will instruct her strapping young men in the martial art of resisting you.***

Man Secrets Revealed

2009-10-19T09:39:00.000-07:00

My son Dainon has just started going to dances. He has mastered the smooth art of conversing with the fairer sex throughout a three minute song. Apparently, that's not all he's learned. He imparted some secret man wisdom to me the other night that left me speechless.
Want to know how to impress a girl at a dance?

Wait for it....

Wait for it...........

You dance with her fat friend.

My New Career (again?)

2009-10-13T19:11:00.000-07:00

So we all stayed home today, and were really, really bored. Then the kids started sniping at each other and I thought about auctioning them off. My oldest son Dainon started editing photos of himself for his Facebook profile. I saw what he'd done, then I begged him to let me take some of him and mess with them myself.
I begged, pleaded, shed a tear or two and then he let me! Now, I have a really cruddy point and shoot camera. It does a terrible job with faces, the flash is so harsh and no flash is blurry, but I had a fantastic time. I was giddy.
Am I a pro? Alas, a lack. But my son will no longer have a lame facebook presence. Any little thing I can do as a mother, you know?
I present to you: The Many Faces of Dainon

I love his eyelashes. Did you know he stole them from me? Mine kinda fell out after he was born.

He let me mess with his hair too. The sacred forehead is showing. That sucker hasn't seen the light of day in years.

This one reminded me of some Andy Warhol print.

I call this one "Edward" I think he should be all pale and sparkly for Halloween.

I'm lovin' the hair. Would that mine had curl like that!
The eyes have it.
This one has a 'rebel without a cause' feel to it. Yeah, it was such a blast to do, too bad Logan won't let me take pictures of him. Maybe I can bribe him with something?

Hey, Loganski, I've got some chocolate soy milk for you!

Bullet Dodging no More

2009-10-13T06:49:00.000-07:00

With all the sickness going around, the pukies, swine flu, the regular flu, bad colds...etc. We've come off pretty easy. Until today. I suspect the tide is turning. I have one guy in bed with a really sore throat, one with a rumbly tummy, one with painful swollen glands, and another one because it didn't seem fair for him to be the only one in school. I mean, if we're quarantining, we'd better do this thing right, right? So what's the forecast for today? Chicken Soupy with a strong chance of Netflix.

Speaking of Photographic Evidence....

2009-10-09T14:30:00.000-07:00

I call this video "Will they never learn?" Or, "If you're going to break something, don't try to film it!"

How to Throw a Real Fit

2009-10-08T18:38:00.000-07:00

I saw this on Facebook and had to haul my whole pack of boys in to witness it. This is fit-throwing at its finest!

Go Barefoot Burgler, Go!

2009-10-07T09:00:00.000-07:00

I mentioned that I absolutely HAVE to read the morning paper sipping herbal tea with WAY too much sugar every morning, right? I read any news story aloud that catches my fancy, and did I ever enjoy reading about the Barefoot Burgler this morning! His story isn't one I've shared with fam, but we've (I've) been following his progress back and forth across the state, admiring his daring and brazen ways. Leaving bare footprints on the wall indeed! I'm thinking about leaving a care package for him on my roof for the next time he flies across the state in a stolen plane.

Photographic Evidence

2009-10-06T16:39:00.000-07:00

I downloaded a bunch of pics from my camera today, and found this one. There are several pieces of information I can glean from this photo:
1. The whole 'don't play with fire, especially when adults aren't home' lesson has not been internalized.
2. That's what happened to all the lighter fluid.
3. At least it was outside!

Found:

2009-10-02T06:10:00.000-07:00

2 gray hairs. Anyone missing any?

Please advise.

Bright Cheery Mornings!

2009-10-01T06:26:00.000-07:00

I used to loathe mornings. As the alarm would rip me from slumber, I would feel the weight of dread hit my chest. There was so much stress, so many details. I was absolutely certain that if I didn't get out of bed, the world would cease to turn and all mankind would be annihilated. All that changed this year.

What is different?

I wake everyone up earlier. And I no longer pack lunches.

If anyone forgets their lunch, backpack, coat, homework etc., it's not my problem.

I still wake up every morning to the alarm, but that just means it's time to roll over, curl up with Lewis for about 10 more minutes of snuggle time. I gradually waken to Lewis sitting up in bed, reading his scriptures. At this point, depending on all kinds of environmental factors, I either sleep a little more, read some scriptures myself, or go wake up the kids.

It never ocurred to me that I might have it easy with my boys until I saw my mom's expression of shock when I told her it's not tough at all to get them out of bed. It's usually somewhere between 5:50 and 6:05. I come down the stairs calling "Good morning handsome princes!" I begin tickling Dainon's feet and cajoling him out of bed. I summon Logan repeatedly until I get a verbal response and I hear at least some movement. The little boys almost bounce out of bed. I carry Liam upstairs and put him in my bed, where he gets a little snuggle time with dad if it's still early enough.

Then we have scriptures. Tuesday and Thursday, we have Daddy here, which is new, and I love it.

After scriptures and family prayer, the boys all get themselves dressed and come up for breakfast. I quickly assemble a lunch for Lewis and kiss him as he dashes out the door. The boys get their own cereal while I sit at the table reading the paper, sipping herbal tea.

They eat, and I read any interesting articles aloud. Today, we discussed the Al Quaeda suicide bomber that got into the palace of a Saudi prince and detonated while he was standing right beside him. Apparently, he had a whole pound of explosives AND a detonator shoved up his rear. The prince was only slightly wounded, but the assasin made a BIG MESS!

What lovely breakfast discussion!

Then they pack their own lunches, and I'm slowly working my way through the paper. Heaven help anyone that tries to grab the comics out of order!

I'm available for consultation and various signing duties as I sit on my throne at the head of the table. First the big boys leave, then the little boys do. Somewhere during this time, Liam arrives looking toussled and grouchy. In an effort to avoid hysterics, we quickly supply him with cereal.

Then, before I know it, everyone is gone but Liam and me. It's lovely.

At the Checkout

2009-09-30T06:31:00.000-07:00

I shop at Winco, which is a veritable United Nations. I love to see all the different styles of dress and hear the accents. Sometimes I'm just dying of curiosity to know the stories of the people around me, and how they see America. I also love to read all about different cultures and current events. Some of the stories I read break my heart, and I wish that everyone could live in a place with as much order, justice and equity as we do. Our country isn't perfect, but as I look into the faces of handsome young men that were fighting in Bosnia, or what look to have been lost boys in Africa, I'm SO GLAD THEY'RE HERE!
I was unloading my cart yesterday, when I noticed three very tall African men behind me. I heard them speaking in their native tongue and I tried to imagine the events they've seen. One of the men was quite imposing, and I remembered reading this article. I found it so sickening, and I wondered if any of the men behind me had ever raped anyone. I glanced up and my eyes locked with the mountain of a man behind me. His face was devoid of expression, but his eyes looked straight through me. I supressed a shudder and flushed, certain that he knew exactly what I was thinking. I felt terrible.
Who am I to judge anyone when I've never missed a meal or had to really fear for my life? A drug-addled thief at my door doesn't count.
I was pondering this when I noticed the woman beside me loading her groceries. She was from Africa too. I discreetly peeked at her face and saw the pinpoint scars that swirled decoratively on her forehead and cheek bones. She had a large scar slashing down her jaw. I was certain there was a long and painful story there. My self disgust was still fresh in my mind, and I decided to do something about it. I looked at her, smiled, and said "Hello!". She was startled and looked around, unsure if I meant her. She saw my smile, and I could see the thoughts forming in her mind. It went something like this: "Oh my gosh, she's talking to me. What do I say? What was that phrase again?" I repeated my greeting, and and asked "How are you doing?" I remembered how scary it is to try to form words and sentences in a foreign language, regardless of the goodwill of both. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree, and she proudly said, "Hello! How you doing!" She'd bagged her few items and turned to leave, and I wished her a good day. We both grinned at each other, and I left the store feeling light as air.

Sip-n-Ditch

2009-09-29T17:17:00.000-07:00

This is the maneuver you employ when your four year old makes you a delicious drink (made of cold water, apple chunks and butter) and then waits with shining eyes for you to drink it.

Fiesta Friday

2009-09-29T07:30:00.000-07:00

I've been trying to make little occasions to brighten everyone's day around here. The adjustment to school has been tough for most (all) of them this year. We had such a kicked back summer, that fall reality was especially harsh. I decided that Friday's dinner should be something of a celebration- as in, "Hooray! We survived another week of school!"

This Friday was our first fiesta, which meant that I made a ginormous platter of nachos, and we all sat around and ate them without plates and forks.

This is a full size cookie sheet! The coolest thing about it was, we couldn't finish it all! Do you know how hard that is for me to do? It gave me great satisfaction to see food still on the table. I'm already planning this weeks fiesta, I need to get my hands on some good Mexican mariachi music!

Goth Baby

2009-09-28T07:24:00.000-07:00

I came home from violin lessons last week and found this. His 14 year old brother dressed him all in black, and made him an emo goth. Is his big brother a goth? No. He even takes great care to not pair black jeans with a black top lest others suspect him of leaning that way. While this was a slightly disturbing sight, it was also a very sweet demonstration of how much big brother is invested in Liam's life. I'm still taking away the markers, though.

I've Been Sent a Howler!

2009-09-24T09:51:00.000-07:00

Not one of these, he's a little canine friend. Because I don't have enough to do, or enough people to keep alive and fed. In order to appreciate this story, I need to go back a few weeks.

Our dog Jill is getting old, fat and sassy. She has begun relieving herself on the basement carpet at night if we don't shut our bedroom door tightly. We've had her a long time, but incontinence is a bit of a deal breaker for me. (hear that boys? you've been warned!) A few Saturdays ago, Lewis was out of town, but it was okay because there was a church dinner. If I don't have to cook, all is right with the world. There was some sort of scout recognition and the big boys had to be early, so I sent them walking to the church. A few minutes later, I get a call from Dainon. "Mom, Jill just got hit by a car."
"What?! Are you joking? Is she dead?" There was a slightly hopeful sound to my voice.
"No, she's just limping on her back foot." Dang.
I went to pick her up, and found that she'd followed Dainon, and he hadn't sent her home. So she went and got herself run over, but not enough to finish the job.
Don't hate me, I'm not an animal person. I'm a people person. I like animals just fine, but they aren't on the same tier to me as humans.
Her back paw was injured. I looked at her, and saw dollar signs. I knew that I was going to miss that lovely dinner that I didn't have to cook. I was going to miss my boys' recognition, and everyone was going to think I was one of those flaky moms that just drop their kids off at stuff.
I called Lewis.
"Honey, Jill's been hit by a car. Where's your gun?"
"What?! How is she? How bad is she hurt?"
"She probably has a broken paw. Can I put her down? Please?"
"No."
Double Dang.
I didn't know if I actually could pull the trigger. Then I thought about her poop on my freshly shampooed carpet, and I thought I could. Lewis' dad told me about when his wife's cat came home badly injured with intestines hanging out. He knew the vet bills would be big, so he got out his 22 and took matters into his own hands. He washed, dried and fluffed the kitty back up. Then he curled it up under a bush like it was sleeping.
"Oh, look honey, I've found your cat."
"Ooo," she cooed "It looks like she went in her sleep."
He smiled.
I called him, and asked him to come up for a visit.
A week after this happened, Lewis came home with this little creature.

His friend from work had been begging us to take him. I'd been saying no, no, never. But they desperately needed a babysitter for the weekend. So, there he was, looking like some unholy combination of rat, monkey and dog. I approached him and he stood on his hind legs. I lifted him up from under his arms like a baby, and something magical happened: He put his arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. I'm not kidding. His breed has double jointed paws and can use them a lot like arms. He imprinted on me like some kind of werewolf in a vampire novel. I am now his whole world. Know what he's doing in this photo? Waiting and howling for me to come home. At first it was a little irritating not being able to take so much as a step without bumping into him, but he's relaxed a bit. He's quite naughty and steals food. When he's home alone, he has to be in his crate or he marks things (oh, the incontinence of it all!) But we like him. He makes us laugh. Violin practice is one of our favorite times now, see why?

*Oh, and Jill is still alive, and her paw is healing nicely.

I'm Flying!

2009-08-31T10:22:00.000-07:00

It finally happened. I sent my chickadees out the door today for school! My trashed house is a long way towards order and peace. Now I just need to spend a quality afternoon with my TV and laundry. I feel like this huge weight has been lifted! Liam starts preschool on Wed, and then for three mornings a week, I'll be flying totally solo. I can't really take that in yet.
It was hilarious, the other day we were seated around the table, heads bowed in prayer before dinner. Lewis was giving thanks for all our blessings, and then deviated a bit. "We thank thee for school that is about to start, for all the hours and hours that Missy will have when her house will stay clean- for all the free time she will have to work on fun projects and enjoy peace and quiet...." He went on and on while I slumped with my head on my arms shaking with silent laughter. I believe I uttered a heartier than usual AMEN!

I Leveled Up!

2009-08-21T22:46:00.000-07:00

This is what my boys call it if you've gained a new skill, learned to do something hard, or otherwise acquired experience points.

I'll let you in on a little secret. I used to be the wimpiest mom in the world. I wouldn't even take my boys grocery shopping by myself. For good reason. Little by little, I've gained confidence. Two years ago, I took my oldest three boys on an adventure to attend General Conference- that was huge for me. This week I did something that totally tops that: I took all 5 boys on a beach vacation adventure. All by myself. Monday, I got a wild hair. I thought to myself, "This has been a really lame summer for the boys. They should be able to have some fun." So I did some internet research, reserved a hotel room (camping is out of the question!) loaded up all the kids, and away we went! It was a solid 6 hour drive, and I only got lost once. At that point, I pulled into a Geico office and begged for directions. It worked, and we made it the rest of the way just fine.

I learned a few things. First, I have the coolest, funniest kids in the world. Sorry, but I took all the most interesting boys.

Second, I will never again try to fit 6 people on two queen beds. Ever. I thought I was saving money. No, I just purchased a terrible nights' sleep.

Third, I can do this. I can take the kids places overnight and still have so, so, so, so much fun.

Take a look!

We just happened to be at the best tide pools in northern Oregon at low tide. The boys climbed all over rocks, hunted crabs, played with starfish for hours.

Insert your own sound effects here: shrieks, screams, frantic calls for the brothers to come see the biggest crab of all time.

This was his first experience with the ocean since he was four.

This guy was fascinated by the sea. He had to explore every wave, every nook and cranny of every rock.

This guy had to test his nerve, out there in the freezing waves. How far out there could he go? I think he went under a couple of times. The big boys were wild men in the waves.

What's a boy outing without fire?

This is proof that I was actually there.

The scenery was amazing. We were at Ecola State Park. We're going back. We have to.

I begged, pleaded and commanded them to all get together for a group shot. This was all I got.

Logan buried himself in the sand, and Dainon came up and asked, "Does it hurt if I punch you right there?" As I recall, the answer was yes.

Doesn't the scenery just make you swoon?

Liam had a ball sticking his fingers into the little sea creatures. They're sticky and close around your finger. Are they anemone? Maybe.

The first day at the beach, I was pretty nervous, and lectured the boys on never turning their backs on the waves, and what to do if they got caught in a rip tide. I was sure someone would get nabbed by some freak wave and I wouldn't be paying attention and I wouldn't realize it until that night at dinner. If you know me, you know that could happen.

The next day, I just relaxed and enjoyed being with them. Like I said before, they were crawling all over some really sharp boulders. Even Liam, who the day before was nervous to get his toes wet, was leaping around like a mountain goat. I was with them the whole time, though. A couple who looked like they were in their 50s made their way over the rocks to me, and asked me if all those boys were mine. I smiled and told them yes, they were. They congratulated me on letting them play and really be boys. They told me they had figured they were brothers because of the way they interacted. That made me feel really good. There are so many things about mothering that I'm pretty terrible at. Letting my boys have adventures is something I really get. Having that noticed made me feel all bubbly inside.

Home.

2009-08-16T17:39:00.000-07:00

I've been home for a couple of weeks. For a while there, the jet lag worked in my favor. I blinked awake at 5am every day, as chipper as can be. I was tired in the evening, but it didn't seem to slow me down much. I'm over it now, perfectly capable of sleeping in until 9 if given the chance.
My oldest son went to his first stake dance. (!!!!!!) I was mastered by the urge to spy on him, so I went to pick him up 15 mins before the dance was over. What a flashback! They were playing the exact same Bryan Adams song that Lewis and I danced to at stake dances. Nothing against Bryan Adams ballads, but dang. They need some new music. Dainon was teased mercilessly about his mother skulking about the dance,but it just rolled right off him. "She was just there to make sure my shirt stayed on." Classic, huh?
My second son got to go to Uncle Gib's house and work bees with him. Yes, my husband's only brother is a bee farmer. There's a fancy word for it, but it escapes me now. Logan got to do some serious work for more money than he's had in his whole life. On the way home, we introduced the concept of saving for his mission. (yes, if I were more responsible, that would have happened a decade ago) There might have been a tear or two over that.
I've also been looking at my Ireland pics, and I thought I'd share some more. Some of the silly ones.

Here's one of me driving in the wrong side of the car, on the wrong side of the road with a sitck shift in the wrong hand. It was very late at night, and we were a little tipsy. I don't need alcohol to get tipsy. I just need to be with girls, late at night, listening to fun music, telling funny stories and feeling wild and crazy. We went out in search of an authentic Irish pub. Strictly for the atmosphere, mind you. They were all closed, so Kimberly pulled over and let me drive. I got the kph/mph mixed up and was going way too fast, but I thought I was going too slow.

Some people have no sense of adventure! We hit some bumps, avoided a collision, and I decided to pass the torch back to Kimberly. Just in time. We saw a bunny. We stopped to take pictures, and voila.
The cops. The Garda, as they're called in Ireland. They just stopped to make sure we were okay, but I'm sure glad I wasn't driving!

This one cracks me up. I'd been posing for a perfectly lovely portrait when I got caught in some one's wicked tailwind. A digestive disturbance, if you will. Our road trip was hilarious, because at some point we all had health ailments that hindered our progress. All three of us were pretty pathetic. Most of you know that I have a delightful condition that can make life interesting if I get a little dehydrated. In order to abate my suffering, I need to get fully hydrated, as quickly as possible. Alas, what goes in, most come out, every 5 minutes for over an hour. What fun! On a long road trip, that can add an extra spice to liven things up. Lets just say that I have christened the land of my ancestors.

I love this pic of my sister, she's so cute.

Good times, I tell you.

Pictures

2009-07-30T18:18:00.000-07:00

I was so sad as I was taking these pictures, because the camera just doesn't do Ireland justice. So when you look at these, keep it mind that is was WAY more spectacular in person. The beauty literally hurt my heart. Click on any of them to see up close.

It's Over. Almost.

2009-07-30T09:46:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it, I am now on home soil. I'm not actually home yet, though. I flew into Spokane late last night, and stayed to sleep at the Earl's. It was so good to see my two sleeping babies! I smooched their cheeks and whispered how much I love them. Yesterday was a day that lasted about 60 hours. We began Tuesday with an all-out sight seeing blitz. We walked through the oldest castle in Ireland, it was built in 1180-something. It had been in the family for 30 generations, then sold to the Irish government in the 70s. I was drooling over the library there. Then we drove to the coast (a 15 min drive) and had lovely fresh fish and chips. Yum, with vinegar and salt! We hiked along a scary cliff-side path that left me feeling woozy, then we fed seals on the wharf. They're huge! It began to rain, but we hit the beach anyway. We frolicked in the surf in the pouring rain and got soaked. It was a blast! I have pictures of all this, and I'll share them when i get home. We drove home in various states of undress and got ready to hit the pub. We drove through downtown Dublin, which has been around since 100BC, and marvelled at the architecture. Then we shopped for souvenirs, so fun! The pub we stopped for dinner at was on Temple Bar, and there was a fantastic dinner show. A trio played traditional Irish songs and sang. Some of them were so bawdy that they asked Kimberly to cover her daughter's ears from the stage. I was so frustrated because I couldn't understand all the words. I appreciate a good bawdy drinking song, you know. Then the Irish dancers came on. They had performed all over the world and blew us away. We got home after midnight and started packing. We had to be a the airport at 3:30, so we figured, why sleep? We didn't, so after a 3 hour flight to Amsterdam, some crazy confusion there, (we had a connecting flight not listed in our itinerary) an 81/2 hour flight to Philly, another delay, then a 5 1/2 hour flight to Seattle, then a panicked run for my sis to catch a flight to Salt Lake that should have left before we arrived, I had to take 2 trains, 4 flights of escalators to get to my flight. On my last flight to Spokane, a guy who sat behind me literally never shut his mouth. Ever. But I made it without killing him, or even being rude. I pulled into the in laws house at just before 11 pm. I realized I hadn't eaten since Amsterdam. Then I couldn't sleep. I eventually did, and thus ended the longest day of all time. Now I just have a 2 1/2 hour drive home. I hope I don't fall asleep. If I do, all my gifts for everyone are in the smaller black bag. Got it?

Discoveries

2009-07-24T03:41:00.000-07:00

This intrepid traveler has discovered many interesting facts about Ireland. The first, is that you take your life in your hands when you go jogging/walking on narrow winding roads at dusk. Especially if there is a steep bank on either side of the road filled with nettles. It's all trails for me from now on. It was a breath-taking walk though.
Another is that a majority of the people here are, let's just say, on the petite side. I could seriously be a pro wrestler here. I could call myself Amazonia. There could really be a future for me here. Kim assures me that all the men that I see that look to be lighter than 115 lbs are not indeed Irish. All the Irishmen at that time of day would be in the pub. This leads me to my next discovery.
There are tons of Polish people here. The Polish people are slightly resented because they flood the workforce here and work really hard, then send the money back home. Sounds familiar, huh? It was so much fun to peruse the aisles of the grocery store, eavesdropping on all the conversations in Polish. I only remember a few phrases, so unless they were saying they had to pee, I wouldn't be able to understand them. I did make me homesick for Poland, though.
Look at the teensy carton of milk! Not a gallon in sight.
One sister for sale! Did we look like dorks to all the Polish shoppers? Yep.
My mom was a Kerr, so I thought these potatoes were cool.
Look at how bright and clean the carrots are! The produce was so fun to look at, each little container was from a different place in the EU. Cherries were from Greece, blueberries from Poland, parsnips from Spain.... Look, I'm a professional grocery shopper back home. Could I resist the lure of the local store? Indeed not!
Want to know something cool? Everything is in English AND Gaelic. Britain was ruthless at trying to homogenize Ireland. Now Gaelic is required for every school child. Way to stick it to the Man, Ireland!
We're heading into the countryside for a road trip to Limerick today, so get ready for lots of pictures of pastoral fields, cottages and sheep. I can't wait!!!

I Heart Ireland

2009-07-23T05:04:00.000-07:00

After about an hour on our own at the airport, we ran into Kim. She'd been there all along, waiting at the barrier with her daughter holding adorable welcome signs. We figure she didn't see us for a reason. While she was waiting for us, she met a little girl who is terminally ill. Her family is throwing a party for her, just to celebrate that she's still with them. Kim, a stranger to her until then, is making her a castle cake for the occasion. It was one of those important connections. It all ended up the way it was supposed to.

Ireland is stunning. It's lush, and rain comes and goes during the day. My hair loves it. Kim is delightful. I hadn't seen her since 9th grade, but she's been so fun and welcoming. It was great to arrive at her house, shower, crash, then all crowd on the bed for talking and giggling.

We have a very good view into the neighbor's backyard, and were fascinated with her laundry hanging activities. Later on in the morning it began to rain, so we dashed back upstairs to see what she would do with her laundry. This gal can report that the woman didn't care. She left her laundry hanging during the shower. I'll be sure to keep you posted as the situation develops.

We Made it!

2009-07-22T01:14:00.000-07:00

After some nail-biting break-neck speed dashes through unfamiliar airports, flight changes and rearranging, we made it to Dublin! We're now international women of mystery. Due to the drama, we're at the airport alone, and my sister's freaking out because she can't understand anyone. We don't have any contact numbers for Kim, so we're livin' dangerous and free. Look out Ireland!

Nothing is Sacred Anymore in this House

2009-07-14T18:05:00.000-07:00

Not even semi-cute pictures of moi.

Ouch. And I think my son has found his calling in life.
Go ahead. Click on it and treat yourself to the full size version. I dare you.

Desktop

2009-07-09T06:50:00.001-07:00

I was looking at the thumbnails on my desktop and saw this:

Despite the fact that Lewis' bulging eye is disturbing, this one made me say, "Awwwwwww." Do you know what we did on Tuesday? Celebrated our 15th anniversary. It wasn't terribly romantic, there were 16 shrieking teens over celebrating Dainon's 14th birthday. Lewis was outside supervising an "Ultimate Water Balloon Battle" with a microphone and ginormous speaker blasting a blow-by-blow and teen music for miles. I was hiding in my room with a book. I didn't need the whole romantic scenario, we just got back from a working weekend in Charlotte. My cup was full.
But take a second look at this creation Dainon made. He entitled it "Welded". Could there, perchance, be a little bit of symbolism involved? See how we've 'become one'? And look in the background. Could those be the very flames of passion? A very perceptive young man.

Here's another one I found, "Ultimate Present".

This is my current background for my desktop.

It's an original composition. He's really into political commentary right now. I never know what I'll find when I log on, but last week it was this:Who is he? I know all about him. I shouldn't, but I do. I have a certain son that treats me to Chester trivia on an almost daily basis. Did you know he was so excited to try out for the band that he left his birthday party early? I'll bet you didn't.

Classic Lewis

2009-06-30T07:48:00.000-07:00

Lewis tells the corniest jokes. His mind is fertile soil for puns. They just pop right out. Usually, they relate to something he's recently seen. We standing in line at the airport when he came up with what might be his best joke ever. Are you ready for it?

What do you get when a 'woman of the cloth' handles your finances?

Sure you're ready?

Nun of your business.

Did I Just do Something Stupid?

2009-06-22T12:09:00.001-07:00

I have a nasty kitchen floor. It's laid with really thick, as in more than an inch, rounded terra cotta tiles. The tile is old and pitted, and dirt is impossible to get out of all those tiny crevices.
I had a brainwave this morning, though.
Instead of taking hours on my hands and knees, what about making use of my husband's treasured toy?

Did I just use 3000 psi jets of water on my kitchen floor? Why, yes. Yes I did. My floors have never been cleaner. My ears are still ringing, I smell like gas fumes, but it was so stinking fun. Was it stupid? Absolutely. Did I flood anything downstairs? Only a little. Was it worth it? Uh-huh.

Labor and Delivery on the Way to Church

2009-06-14T22:18:00.001-07:00

We were going to be late. Lewis was already at church with the older boys, and I was in a blur of hurry putting Liam's sandals on. They weren't his dress shoes, but what can you do? As I looked up into his eyes to tell him to go buckle up, I noticed a telltale bulge on his tummy. "There's a baby bunny in my tummy!" he chirped, in answer to my questioning eyes. I shrugged and told him to head out to the van. I mean, it's church, right? Who's going to condemn my preschooler for an unplanned cross species pregnancy?

As I drove the five minutes to church, I was treated to all the sounds of his labor and delivery. "Wah, wah!" the baby bunny cried. "He wants to come out!" Liam kept me informed on his progress. By the time we arrived, I was a proud new.....Grandbunny?

Just for You, Shannon

2009-06-03T21:37:00.000-07:00

*I asked for Dainon's permission before sharing this story.

For many years, I've had to share a bathroom with the family. What does this mean? It means I can never just sit down on the toilet without taking a really good look at the seat. It means my makeup gets desecrated by artists and my beauty tools disappear. Sniff.

It was tough.

But following a cataclysmic flooding event last year, a remodel was in order. And I got my own bathroom. It's not quite finished. My new bedroom that adjoins it still has no pad or carpet. It's still very much a construction room; but my bathroom, my inner sanctum, is beautiful.
One day I was enjoying my new double headed shower (I can rinse both armpits at the same time!) while Lewis was painting in the bedroom. Dainon poked his head around the door.
"Don't come in here!" Lewis warned.
Dainon just assumed he meant that there was wet paint and decided to walk in anyway. Just as I was stepping out of the shower.

Our eyes locked.

He screamed.

I howled with laughter and shouted, "BEHOLD THE HOTNESS THAT IS YOUR MOTHER!

He dashed from the room and cried out in anguish "Burn this image from my retinas!"

I grabbed a towel and collapsed in giggles.

And now, he always knocks.
True story.

Dainon needs a teenage Bill of Rights.

2009-06-01T19:24:00.000-07:00

Last night our front room was a war zone. Dainon is almost 14, and really feeling it. He needs a lot more freedom. He should be able to blast Linkin Park and Disturbed throughout my house. MY HOUSE. The very walls that usually shimmer with folksy bluesy peaceful vibes. I listen to him defiantly making his case and the scene blurs before my eyes. I see two girls of a similar age writhing in agony as their father plays 'easy listening' on the stereo of their yellow station wagon. We won the right to blast Pour Some Sugar on Me, A Little Respect, Boys Don't Cry, and Will Smith's Parents Just Don't Understand.

Remember these guys? Ahhhh, those were the days.

We reached a bit of a compromise. He turns the music down, or changes songs when I go into fits on the ground. He's not fighting to play anything evil, just testosterone drenched noise.

We've declared an uneasy truce, so we've moved on to bedtime.

9 o'clock is way too early to have to go to bed. It's practically abuse. NO ONE, not a single soul at his school has to go to bed so early.

I smile and explain to him that at 9:01, his father and I strip down and walk about the house totally naked. If he wants to stay up and see that, he's sick.

He doesn't buy it.

He takes his case to the internet, and consults ask.com. He saves the answer to my desktop, offering it as damning evidence against the wisdom of our parenting skills.

"Your getting a little "old" for bedtime. 9 o'clock was my bedtime when I was 8 years old. Id say at 13 your have to learn to take care of your own daily resigme to learn to mature. If your parents keep telling you to go to bed at a certain time, then you will need learn to take responsibility for your own sleeping paterns."

(emphasis added by a mom who hates spelling errors)

Hmmmm..... Teens offering advice on parenting over the internet. What do you think, guys? Did it work on you?

My Private Memorial Day

2009-05-26T18:08:00.001-07:00

One of the great things about living where I do, is its connection with my past. I was raised a nomadic Air Force brat. There was a home base, though, and it happens to be the house next door to mine. The house my mother was raised in; the house where my grandma still putters around making things bloom. It also is just a two block walk to the cemetery where my 'people' are buried; my grandpa, three cousins and my sister. Just before Memorial day, is the anniversary of her death. I don't always make the walk on that day, but it never goes by without some contemplation.

This year I was more aware than usual of the day approaching. It was going to be on a Sunday, just like the year she died. Saturday evening I slipped away by myself to the cemetery while the rest of the family played. As I walked, I was immersed in memories, flashes of feeling and snapshots from that time. Twenty two years ago is forever. How can it have been that long?

My feet crunched on gravel, and I remembered the shock of hearing that Sara was sick; my naive assurance that everything would be fine. (Isn't everything always going to be okay until it's not?) Those ten days of uncertainty, prayers, tests and overheard conversations with unfamiliar words like: tumor, malignant, stage 4, chemotherapy. I remembered the awkward visit to the university hospital. What was that tube in her wrist, with the halved Styrofoam cup keeping her hand level? We hadn't seen her since the day we found out she was sick. How different would my goodbye have been if I'd known it was the last time I would see her until her funeral?

I found her grave, and sat on the cool grass. I have no memory of being there on the day she was buried. I do remember the surreal feeling of excitement for my first ride in a limo, my abstract curiosity at the viewing; the alternating sensations that she was just on a trip and the crushing weight of loss.

I didn't understand at the time, but in the intervening decades this event has begun to make sense. I see the pattern that was still being woven back then. Sara took one for the team. Her death was the making of me, probably of all of our family. In taking her early exit, and I do believe that was part of her mission, she put the steel in my spine that gets me through hard times today. It cemented my own, personal faith.

I talked to her as I plucked the grass. I wondered aloud what her days are filled with. (Are there days in heaven?) I tried to imagine her grown, but I couldn't. She remains in my mind a newly-five blond pixie with mischievous eyes and a crinkly nose.

I asked her if she's okay. I know she is, everyone in heaven is, but it would have been nice to really FEEL it right then. I collected myself and stood to leave. I took one last glance at her grave and caught my breath. There, peeking up at me from the rose bush beside her marker, was a single pink bloom. Just one.
I picked it, and brought it to my nose. Sweet, but peppery too. Just like Sara. I walked home with a smile on my face, knowing she's just fine.

Bliss

2009-05-15T14:42:00.000-07:00

I'm usually the kind of gal that doesn't branch out gastronomically. If I'm eating at the Olive Garden, I get the Tuscan soup and a hazelnut cream Italian soda. If it's Taco Bell, it's the 7 layer burrito with nachos belgrande; my favorite Mexican restaurant, Roberto's Tacos (where all the Mexican's eat- Taco Bell doesn't count as Mexican) has the best chili relleno washed down with icy horchata. Unless it's a burger and fries, that is the extent of my dining comfort zone.
I had a hot lunch date today, we ate here. I was a little nervous at first, but I went with the flow. I've been on an 'Office' kick, and last night Ryan mentioned Pad Thai, so I took a leap and ordered it.
Oh.
My.
Bliss.
It hurts my heart to not have known that it existed before. I will never be the same. It was tangy, limey, with peanutty crunchy goodness and a hint of cilantro.
So we sat, ate with chopsticks, and made googly eyes at each other. We did have to switch spots when Liam got spaghetti sauce on Lewis' dress shirt, but other than that, it was romantic.

LOSERFACE- My new nickname

2009-05-14T09:58:00.000-07:00

What would you do?

I opened my email this morning and found an e-vite for a trunk sale from a man who is a slight business acquaintance. The note was addressed to Melissa LOSERFACE. Apparently, he had saved my name that way in his contacts. Oops! How embarrassing for him.

I spent a while this morning analyzing our few contacts. He organized an event where I was one of the speakers. He emailed, me as part of a group, the program. (That must have been the point where I was saved in his contacts with that delightful moniker.) I replied that his plans sounded great, that I was sure his event would be fantastic. The only time we've ever been face to face was a brief handshake- nice to meet you- conversation backstage before the event. Both were cordial and professional. So why the LOSERFACE? In all caps, even.

It's a mystery, my friends.

I'm thinking that I must have some mysterious power to repel total strangers.

This could be very useful when I'm in long lines at Disneyland.

I replied to his e-vite, but I'm curious, how would you handle this?

*An explanation- OR IS IT?

I got another email from the guy, and it was again, addressed to Melissa LOSERFACE. He was so flustered and apologetic. He couldn't find that adorable name anywhere in his contact list. He sent a different test email, it was still there. He insists he has no clue how it got there. I'm inclined to believe him. We spoke, and he was all apologies. I mean, come on. Does anyone over the age of 18 save a professional contact with the name LOSERFACE? I'm inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.

this is what happens when you dont sign out!

2009-05-12T17:30:00.000-07:00

you see mom it isn't very smart to walk off without signing out. think of all the embarrassing stories i could post about you, that you haven't posted about yet. dang blogging is harder than it looks, i cant think of anything to say.

Shame

2009-05-12T16:27:00.000-07:00

"It wasn't my kid, was it?" I asked, searching the faces of my fellow Cub Committee members. A few cast sidelong glances at each other.

"Do you really want to know?" Kristy could look me in the eye, her kid stories could top mine any day.

We were discussing the Spaceship Derby a couple of weeks before. It was a loud, overstimulating affair. There were so many little children running around screaming, it was the perfect birth control ad. I'd spent a few precious minutes of quiet helping in the kitchen. Apparently, I'd missed out on some action. Some punk kid (cough) called 911 and hung up. Of course the police came. They always come. The Bishop rounded up all the kids and tried to discover the culprit. No one came forward. He didn't want to humiliate anyone, so he asked that whoever did it come to him privately.

As I heard what had happened, my heart clenched. My pupils dilated. My nostrils flared. I expect all kinds of hi jinx from my boys, but some things cross the line. Mouthing off, being disrespectful, or lying to an adult that is not your parent carries a heavy punishment. I had a vague memory of some kid coming to me to tattle that Dainon was the one on the phone. He's almost 14, so the idea of him being on the phone wasn't particularly disturbing. I asked him about it, and he gave me an explanation so mundane that I completely forgot about it. Until that moment at the table.

I stewed.

Was my child on a path riddled with crime and disrespect to elders?

Could he, in fact, withstand the "please just confess in secret" line from a loving Bishop?

Hell in a hand basket, my friends. In a hand basket.

I stewed some more.

The more I thought about it, the less it sounded like him. It would have been pure idiocy to involve the police in your doings with your father in the next room.

As soon as he breezed in from school, we had a little chat.

"Um, Dain, I was at a meeting today, talking about the space derby. They said someone called 911 and the police came. Did you call 911?"

"Sure." He said, "But don't worry. I dialed it, but I didn't press send."

"Babe, it's not a cell phone. All you have to do is press the numbers. You did dial the police. They came."

"They came?" He asked in surprise. "I never saw them, I was outside." He missed the whole thing with the Bishop too, and was only too happy to explain to him how it had all gone down.

Whew!

Not so shameful after all. It was actually pretty funny.

Seriously Icky. You've Been Warned.

2009-04-30T21:09:00.000-07:00

Remember when I was rhapsodizing about heaven the other day? We spend a lot of time at Two Rivers and Zintel Canyon, so a couple of Sundays ago we decided to branch out a bit. Lewis looked up some hiking trails (more like walking paths) on google earth, then we drove around to find them. Cool trails wound around on the banks of a very scarily swift river. We took our faithful nanny dog Jill, and had a nice, reverent Sunday stroll. (I stuck that reverent bit in for you judgemental types) When we all piled out of the van back home, there was a tick on the carpet of the van. Eww! Lewis squished it (which is more difficult than you would think) and we thought that was the end of it. We found two more on the ground that evening, much to my dismay, so I bought a tick collar for Jill. Flash forward to this afternoon. Dainon brought Jill over to me and showed me a very disgusting sight.

At first I thought she had a hand full of nasty tumors. Have you ever seen those on old dogs? Gross. Then I realized, they were very full, very satisfied ticks.

How did I handle this? I did what any sensible, liberated woman would do. I called my husband at work.

"Honey, there are ginormous ticks on Jill" I shrieked. "What do I do?"

I've never removed a tick in my life. I've seen it done when I was a girl. My mom did something with a match. I could just picture that going wrong and Jill bolting out of the house a flaming Dog of Death. The closest thing I've done would be when I was a teenager and my dog got too close to a porcupine. Of all the luck, my parents were gone. That was an adventure.

"I don't know, just Google it and do what they say."

That sounded reasonable enough.

I always do what Google says, even when I shouldn't. (Like when I was being induced with Liam. Don't follow Google instead of your own midwife. Someday I'll tell you the story.)

He then very chivalrously offered to take care of the problem when he got home. There was no way I was going to have a dog walking around with those blood-sucking fiends hanging off her, so Dainon and I decided to git 'er done.

Google said to pull them out with tweezers. They advised against yanking, just steady pressure. They told us not to be alarmed if the head stayed in, that the dog's immune system would take care of it.

I decided that now was the time to enjoy the benefits of only having boys. I found some gloves and some pliers, and made Dainon pull them out. I held Jill, spread her fur away from the offending pustules and tried not to watch.

It was horrible. Really.

I was nauseated. He had to pull so hard, her skin would stretch way out, then those ticks would end up with a piece of her as a souvenir.

But we did it.

He took the ticks outside to kill them, and their carcasses became a neighborhood sensation.

See, I told you it was disgusting.

Breaking Child Labor Laws

2009-04-28T08:31:00.000-07:00

I took a mental health day yesterday. I remained in the fetal position, snug under a down comforter, hugging a bowl of popcorn, watching my beloved foreign movies. At the end of the day, I felt renewed. Alas, my house did not. Lewis read to us until after 10, and no dishes were done. (We HAD to find out if Max died in the creepy castle of death!)

A few of my boys have a cough. Dainon sounds pretty gross. Kelton has a sore throat. Logan has a minor cough. Dallin is fit as a fiddle, the poor boy. He's always healthy when they're sick. He has a bionic immune system. I surveyed the chaos in my house and made an executive decision.

Happy Mental Health Day!

Everyone gets to stay home and rest. As long as they work, too. So far, it's 8:18 and my powder room floor has been scrubbed and a big pile of laundry has been put away. It's going to be a nice long day breaking child labor laws!! (Rubbing hands together with unholy glee)

Mwa ha ha haaaaaaaa!!!

Dublin it is!

2009-04-27T16:19:00.000-07:00

My sister had a really good friend that we went to church with back in jr. high. They've kept in touch through the years and we girls have adopted her as a sister. Kim has invited us to come stay with her at her home in Dublin. So we're going on the ultimate road trip, except we're flying!!! We fly out to Copenhagen, then on to Dublin, where all sorts of girl adventures will ensue. There is guaranteed to be tons of conversation, food, adventure and late night giggles. Some of my favorite things on earth!

Did I ever have a morning today. It started just before 3am. Lewis grabbed me and said urgently, "Liam needs you!"

I shot out of bed and was halfway down the stairs when Liam flew from his room in a panic.

I've seen croup tons of times. It always strikes in the middle of the night. Out of nowhere. Usually, I'm up in the mountains out of cell phone range. The first couple of times, it really scared me. Once I knew what to do, it was no big deal.

I've never seen croup like this. There was the trademark bark of a cough, but in between, there was this struggle to breathe. It was a horrible gasping, frantic sound. I have a kid with asthma, so I thought an albuterol treatment would help. It turns out, the answer is no. Croup affects the upper part of the respiratory system, and albuterol only helps the lower, unaffected part. If your child ever scares you to death in the middle of the night, cold night air is best. That's what the nurse told me. I rushed him to the ER after his father gave him a blessing. Thank goodness it was a short drive. It was surreal to be talking to him in this cheerful, reassuring voice, encouraging him to keep breathing. He did, and we made it. The crisis was over pretty quickly, and we were back in bed by 4:30. I had a hard time waking up this morning though.

I had another blow when I found out that the two giant bags on fruit I'd sent downstairs to the basement fridge were put in the freezer instead. "Put them in the fridge, not the freezer!" I'd repeated several times. It seems I should have made use of smoke signals too, because the message wasn't clear.

I'm almost laughing about it, maybe tomorrow. Since there was no other fruit in the house, and I felt like they deserved it, the older boys got rock-hard oranges in their lunches.

I decided to call it a day at 8:30 am. I curled up on the couch and turned off my brain. We watched this movie. Liam didn't mind that it wasn't in English. What a movie! I had no idea that over a million women in third world countries have their lives ruined by labor injuries that can be easily fixed! It's so sad, it makes me want to do something about it.

After that, it was all a blur. We (Liam) watched multiple episodes of Zelda from 1989, then Bob the Builder, and ultimately Barney. I stayed passed out on the couch. Now, at 4:52 in the afternoon, I'm almost ready to start my day. Good Morning!

Clue #2

2009-04-26T17:20:00.001-07:00

I Just Bought a Ticket

2009-04-25T20:15:00.000-07:00

I just bought a ticket, I just bought a ticket. I just bought a ticket......
I wonder where it's to?

Clue #1: I'm crossing the ocean with my sister in July.

ps. Tia Juana asked about my new scout theme. It is in celebration of all the guilt I've cast off in buying Dallin a new Bear book (he lost his first one, and the scout office is way out of my way). I'm now working on his requirements with him, and I no longer feel like I'm neglecting my poor middle child.

Heaven

2009-04-24T08:10:00.000-07:00

I know what heaven will be like. I know how it will smell, what it will sound like, taste like, every tiny detail. I know this, because I lived it on Monday.
Our family isn't perfect. We're pretty terrible at some things, like being refined. I just have to say, that it's a cruel trick of the universe that I ended up being the guardian of good taste in my home. We're also pretty lousy at yard work. Sorry, no landscaping awards here. Housework too. I just didn't inherit the 'neat pin' gene. I can sleep just fine knowing my basement is a mess.
If there's one thing we're good at (and we're not just good at it, more like gloriously perfect) is savoring long uninterrupted hours together as a family. In the winter, we're curled up in front of the fire. I'm most likely knitting, one boy is drawing, the others are building Lego creations. Lewis is reading from some adventure we're all living together. He'll pause, and we'll all discuss the characters and hazard a guess about what will happen next. We can go on like that for six hours straight, no kidding.
Spring finds us outside, roasting marshmallows around the fire pit. Some are swinging on the rope, others are digging in the dirt. Lewis, again, is probably reading.
We had summer weather this last week, and that took us to our ultimate paradise, Two Rivers park. We had a picnic in typical Earl fashion. No frills :) We grabbed a fried chicken full meal at the store, some books and headed for the river. Of course, we forgot plates or forks. So of course, we improvised. We had plastic cups that could be fashioned into scoops, so anyone interested in potato or macaroni salad could scoop it into a cup. The boys worried the chicken to the bones, ate chips and made suicide punches out of the revoltingly strong red and orange 'juices' Lewis bought. Then we wandered out through some cattails to OUR sand spit. We sword fought with reeds, played balance games on a log. The boys dug trenches in the sand and flooded them. Liam made sand castles with plastic cups and went 'fishing' with branches, catching slimy leaf 'fishes'. I stretched out in the warm sand, put my hat over my face and just soaked up the sun, and the experience. Lewis read to us from our latest adventure (a series about bird/human hybrid kids who escaped from the scientists that created them) and we stayed that way for hours. When the sun got low in the sky, we headed back to the van sandy and smelling like the river, but oh, so happy.
So, in case you were wondering, heaven's gonna be great.

Effective Threats for a Teenage Boy

2009-04-17T08:21:00.000-07:00

It was early evening yesterday, and I was moving about the kitchen assembling dinner ingredients, when Dainon staggered in, blood dripping freely from his head. "Wow, that looks real!" I said, with an appreciative smile. "But hey! It's dripping on your shirt!" It was a Toyota racing t-shirt. For some reason, those are favorites with the boys.

"I think I'll bring some of this to school tomorrow." There was a mischievous glint in his eye. He was throwing down the gauntlet, it was definitely a challenge.

"That's great," I said with a smile. "But you DO know what I'll do if you ever bring it?"

"What?" he looks at me with anticipation.

"If you go to school bloody, I'm going to help you out and deliver you some sanitary pads."

He wasn't disappointed. One point for mom.

Finding Fun

2009-04-14T08:24:00.001-07:00

I am not the fun parent. I am the drill sargent. I am the 'it's time to practice your guitar/violin/piano' or 'do you have homework?' parent. With Lewis gone most of the time these days, I've begun to realize that I have to create a 'fun' hat to go along with all the other responsible hats I wear. So this is what I've been doing.
We have a lovely firepit in the backyard, and we've been putting it to good use. What goes better with boys than fire? All I have to do is ask someone to start one and we have a 4 alarm blaze on our hands. I've planned an outdoor meal for each week. Last week, it was hotdogs and marshmallows. Hey, I'm going for fun, not nutrition! Last night was foil dinners.
Oh! Foil dinners are divine! At least they are if you don't unwrap one to check if it's done, then put it back in the fire. That turns it to charcoal. There's nothing like the smell of the hamburger, potatoes and sweet onions roasting away merrily. The sound of the sizzling- that's great too. I bathed all the boys last night so they don't smell like a fire pit today, but I caught a whiff on someone's jacket this morning. I thought, "Ah, that smells like fun!"

Expansion

2009-03-27T16:27:00.000-07:00

I was laying in bed napping with Liam when the big boys bounded boisterously in my bedroom door. (I know all those b's are tacky, but I can't help it) They had to tell me this funny story about how they were waiting for the city bus, when my cousin and her husband drove by and gave them a ride home. It was funny because Dainon had to cram in and double buckle with my friend and neighbor's darling daughter. We were all laughing and joking about that 'special' feeling he must have had to be sitting next to a girl like that, when I decided to hop out of bed. But alas, there was a problem. I wasn't wearing any pants.
Why, you ask?
Because mine are all a bit too tight, especially to sleep in.
Why, you ask? (I can't believe I blog about stuff like this.)
Because I've been stressed lately, so I've been eating out more than usual, and spending too much time on the couch with a beloved and comforting bowl of popcorn.
Why, you ask?
Business. I'm not what you would call a capable woman. I grow in itty bitty baby steps. I started out waaaaaaayyyyyy behind the rest of you. I'm just now starting to look in my kids' backpacks when they get home from school.
Really. So now I have boys to raise, a home to take care of, clothes to wash and dishes to clean, homework to oversee and all that, and I'm a partner in an expanding-beyond-all-reason business.
I could leave it all to my very dynamic and capable husband, but I really love the work. Know what I love the most? The public speaking. Give me a stage and a microphone and I'm happy for a week. Isn't that weird? It's the exhibitionist in me.
So I love it, and we're working hard, but I have this invisible line that I can't cross. I can only work so hard (and the line moves daily) and then no more. I cross that line, and there's this sound in my brain. Kind of like "BZZZZT." Then all thought stops. All housework stops too. Same with business.
That was me yesterday.
I literally lay snuggled up on the couch with Liam in front of my computer monitor and watched this all day. And I do mean all day.

As my breakfast dishes waited patiently on the table, I watched all six (count'em) 55 minute episodes of this gem. My world shrank down so small that all it contained was the delightful minx Becky Sharp and the sleeping boy in my arms. Becky did great work for me yesterday. Here's another delicious escape:
Thanks, Noelle, for the tip on this one. You like Jane Austen? You'll love Wives and Daughters. And it's reeaaaaalllly long too. Both of these are on the 'Watch Instantly' section of my beloved Netflix.
So, I guess you could say I'm expanding. I'm growing as a person, learning to push myself to the limits of my capabilities.
I'm, um, getting bigger buns and thighs. Because I can't work out right now. I just can't.
I'm also expanding my movie review list.
All around it's a bonus!

My Ducks were All in a Row

2009-03-12T08:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was one of those days where my schedule was tight. Two morning appointments, early release from school. Field trip to the movie theater with the cubbies. I dashed home, spent 10 minutes putting some jello in the freezer, baked potatoes in the oven for dinner, loved on crying Liam, reassuring him that I would be back soon, and dashed out again for violin lessons. Sat and knit while Logan played, and raced back home. I called the boys on the way home from violin and asked them to take the jello out of the freezer, and set the table. I pulled in the driveway coiled and ready to spring into dinner action, because mutual was in less than an hour. "How was I going to be able to be there?" I asked myself. I'd already been gone from Liam for the last three hours. I descended on the kitchen only to find my baked potatoes not in the oven where I left them. They were all neatly placed on the counter and still hard as a rock. Raw. I was struck dumb. Then I could only speak in half sentences. "Wha...how?" "Who?" and "Why?!!" It turned out the boys in their infinite helpfulness heard the oven beep right after I left. You know, how the beep when the oven is done preheating is the same beep when the timer goes off? I hadn't left any instructions concerning the oven. I'd just told them to keep their brother happy and watch Mythbusters, a show the male member of the family love dearly. But they heard a beep.
Those nice, big, fat baker potatoes went back in the oven. I curled up in the fetal position on the couch and watched the Barbara Walters special about the Oscars. Why? Because I was discouraged and needed to go to another place. When the potatoes were done, The kids ate and I resumed my hiding. Mutual had long since started. Dang. My feelings of being a loser mom and being overwhelmed just increased. Then there came a little thought: you're just feeling this way because you're tired. It's been a super busy day, cut yourself some slack!
I wandered over to the piano and started playing some hymns while the boys finished their dinners. I started to feel less guilty. "The big boys may be missing church, but at least they're getting a little spirituality snuck in there!" I smiled to myself. I saw Logan slip downstairs and emerge with his violin. He smiled to me and began to play 'If you could Hie to Kolob' with me. Then we moved to 'God Moves in a Mysterious Way'. Then on to 'I Am a Child of God'.

Precious.

I grabbed Dallin's copy of The Order of the Phoenix, and flopped back down on the couch. (He's 9, and reading the series for the first time. Can you think of anything more magical than that? He's been buried in them for weeks.) "I'm reading aloud in 10 minutes!" I announce. "Get the table cleared and wiped, so you can listen!" There was a flurry of activity, and soon we were all cuddled up, worrying with Harry about his hearing at the Ministry of Magic. After finishing the dishes, Logan made brownies. Lewis walked in, just in time to eat brownies and ice cream, and help get the kids in bed.
My evening didn't go like clockwork like I'd planned.
But, wow.

Her Parents Shoulda Called Supernanny

2009-03-05T08:00:00.000-08:00

My sister-in-law recently introduced me to abc.com. You can watch all the new episodes of Supernanny in hd there. We're new to Supernanny, and let me tell you, it's entertainment for the whole family. My kids are in awe of the tantrums, the bad parenting, the sassiness. During the little commerical breaks, we look at each other slack-jawed and I ask the boys, "If you were the dad, how would you have handled that?" Or, even better, "What would have happened to you if you did THAT to me?" We watched this poor lady this morning, who had just missed her flight to San Francisco. I say poor lady, because she never appears to have had anyone love her enough as a child to smack her out of it. I could understand if maybe her baby or diabetic grandmother were on the flight, but that does not appear to be the case.

From the AP article:"The three-minute video shot on a mobile phone shows a woman wailing, throwing herself on the floor, banging on an airport counter and trying to barge through a closed boarding gate at the Hong Kong International Airport on Feb. 4 after missing a flight to San Francisco.
"They have no compassion. The plane hasn't even left, and they've shut the gate. They're crazy! They're crazy!" the woman shouted."

Supernanny, she needs your help!

Bless You Netflix!

2009-03-04T08:30:00.000-08:00

I'm still recovering from my trip to San Diego (and I still have some good stories to tell; nights punctuated with night-time drama, emergency vehicles and my husband extracting promises from me that I will never, ever do a certain something again) and until I'm all the way back on my feet, I'm clocking some serious couch time. Yesterday morning I slept through multiple episodes of some BBC dinosaur show with my two youngest cuddled up with me. After I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and did my work for the day, I collapsed again and stumbled upon the most fascinating movie.

Know anything about Sri Lanka and their civil war? I didn't know anything either. I'd heard about the Tamil Tigers during the aftermath of the Tsunami; my midwife went there to deliver babies. This movie paints a vivid tear-jerking picture of the life of a little girl who finds she was adopted out from that region. It has the music and flair of Bollywood, and some of the locations will stop your heart. I can't wait to do some research and learn exactly what the fighting is all about. Again, like most of the movies I recommend, it's not in English, but don't let that stand between you and an unforgettable experience.

Live From San Diego

2009-02-27T21:46:00.000-08:00

In which Earlgirl shares travel mishaps, toilet tragedies and more.
So I'm here in beautiful San Diego at an ACN convention with a room full of exceedingly fun gals. It was a rocky road of traveling to get here, believe me. We had to fly in a little turbo prop airplane over a mountain range. Patty and I were snug in our seats, vibrating away to the drone of the engines, pitching up and down with turbulence, when this cute mommy with a toddler on her lap leans across the aisle and asked if we had any airsickness bags. We gladly hand her ours, and watch with curiosity. Nothing appeared to me wrong until her daughter started to retch. Remember the movie 'Stand By Me'? The 'total and complete barfa-rama' scene? We lived it. The girl covered her poor mommy. She filled mommy's shoes. She splatted the seat in front of her. Then came the smell. "Focus on the window, smell your juice!" Patty admonished me. I did, and it worked, but I don't think I've recovered yet. It was a very close call.
Then today, I was at the convention with a fresh spiral bound notebook, ready to imbibe wisdom. I took a quick trip to the potty first, and balanced my notebook on the toilet paper dispenser. You guessed it. After I stood and before I flushed, in went my notebook. It was a pitiful sight, let me tell you. There was nothing for it but to grab it by its dry corner and bid it adieu. We had a fantastic conference, and an eternal night-time walk back to the hotel fraught with danger. I arrived back at the hotel anxious for a trip to the ladies room. I had exercised my considerable powers of retention all during the long, long, long walk. It was with great relief that I was able to unburden myself. As I sat there, contemplating life and the meaning thereof, a thought struck me. I was still wearing my jacket that ties around the waist. Instead of belting it in front, I had knotted the belt behind me to a maximize the slimming effect. Just as I suspected, the ends were floating in the toilet water. Ew.
It's not my day for toilet luckiness, is it?
Don't feel too sorry for me though, I'm not cooking, cleaning, or being blamed for items my children have lost. It's all good.

Another 'Mother of the Year Award' coming my way.

2009-02-25T09:20:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, a really bad cold went through my family. Almost everyone fully recovered. Kelton was left with a sore throat and swollen glands. Some days it would be bad, others it would pretty much go away. He was still chipper and enjoying life, and I let him miss a day or two of school on the days it was painful in the morning. Liam had a pretty bad cough that gradually recovered to where he only coughed maybe once an hour. It was a deep and wet sounding cough, however infrequently I heard it.

I finally made and appointment to take Kelton in, and wouldn't you know it, he woke up feeling fine. No sore throat. His glands were still like marbles, so I figured "What the hay, it's a $30 copay. At least he'll get looked over."

No fever, no red throat, big glands: sinus infection. It must not have been a very serious one. Just as we were getting ready to leave, I mentioned Liam's cough. Can I tell you, I have the best pediatrician! He didn't hesitate, and reached for Liam with a serious face. He frowned when he listened to his lungs. Pneumonia. Yikes.

It was the 4th case he'd seen that day.

No fever either, happy, playing, just an occasional deep cough.

Pneumonia.

I was so glad that I followed that whim to just go in anyway!

So here's to my poor little Lee-bee.

True Story

2009-02-22T20:59:00.000-08:00

On Valentine's Day, my husband was out of town. I decided to surprise him by writing a Facebook note on 25 things I love about him. I worked on it for the whole morning. I was on #23 when Liam came over and pushed a key, I have no idea what it was, and my note was gone. Poof! Gone. Irretrievable. It had been clever, tender, funny, and absolutely impossible to reproduce. Sad, huh? I have now decided to dedicate an entire post to telling one story that I think was #17. It's too good to be missed.

One of the things I love about my husband is that he's brave.

He's always thinking of contingencies- what to do if a car swerves in front of us in our lane, what to do if this or that bad thing happens.

One day he was driving to work and took a turn he'd never taken before. Just as he realized his mistake, he saw a pregnant woman hurrying across the busy street pulling a toddler along behind her. As he approached, he saw another car coming, and it was obvious to Lewis that the other driver couldn't see her because of the glare. Without thinking, he sped up and stopped his car between the woman and the other car. The driver screeched to a stop, barely missing Lewis' demo car and was furious with him for being in his way. He never saw the woman and child he almost hit.

Brave and heroic? That's just the beginning.

A few years ago Lewis was in school full-time and in order to see each other, we had to sneak late-night dates to fast food joints. It was a hot summer night when we decided to hit Carl's Jr. As we pulled up, I was jabbering away, trying to download a whole day's worth of thoughts in a short time. I didn't notice that a car had pulled up the wrong way, parallel to the entrance. Lewis noticed him though, he saw him pull up farther until the driver could see the counter and who was working. He told me later that the hair rose on his neck. He'd parked by this time, as had the suspicious car. He'd just decided that we should just bag it and go, because of the bad feeling he had about the situation, but I was already almost to the restaurant door. A short skinny Mexican kid got out of the car beside us. He was wearing a big, puffy satin coat, with one arm tucked in the front zipper concealing something. I noticed this, and thought it was odd, but what was odder was what my husband did. He held the door open for the guy, and looking down at him with a smile, clapped his hand on his shoulder, greeting him in a really friendly way. The guy looked way, way up at Lewis and smiled nervously. I assumed that Lewis must have known him from school. The kid walked up to the counter and just stared at the lone teenage girls working the late shift, all the time holding his hand inside his coat. None of the girls working seemed to recognize him. He never even glanced at the menu. My husband walked right up and stood behind him, right in his space. He looked from the girls, to Lewis, then back again. Before long, he walked out without a word.

All this time, I was oblivious. I was thinking about what flavor of milkshake I wanted. I didn't know that Lewis was calculating what he would do if the guy whipped out a gun. Depending on the caliber, he had it all planned out and was ready.

Now is he a handy guy to have around, or what?

Photo tagged by Michelle

2009-02-20T14:28:00.000-08:00

I get to pick the 6th folder in my pictures, and pick the 6th picture and tell you the story behind it. My problem is, I only have 4 folders. I have a new computer and I haven't transferred all my photos over yet. I've been putting it off until I can get my boys to do it for me, but they're too busy transferring their music. Who knew that Weird Al would still be popular with middle schoolers? "I'm Fat" is actually Dainon's ring tone for me. Am I offended? No, it's just his sense of humor. Which leads us to the photo. I picked the last of my folders, six files down, this is what you get:

I call it "Foot- A study by Dainon".

Hey, at least it's clean! Stained, but clean. I'll take what I can get. I don't discourage the boys' use of the camera, because I love the random things they come up with. For example: My husband's brother adopted a son (he has 6 cute blond daughters, and this little guy kind of fell in their laps) and invited us to see them be sealed together as a family in the temple. I was so excited to go, I'd never been able to witness that before. Sadly, Lewis had to work. I took Dain with me on the road trip. I got the traditional picture of him in front of the temple, but he had the camera the rest of the time. What kinds of pictures did I get?

Sports cars, or course. He's a teenager, right?

Then he branched out a bit, and took a picture of every vehicle we passed.
This was the morning after Halloween, so he brought his candy with him. Where did it end up? All over his clothes, along with some newsprint belonging to the comics he always reads. Oh, he was in fine shape by the time we got to the temple!

So there you have it. That was quite the story attached to that foot!

Spring. Spring. Spring spring spring....

2009-02-19T07:55:00.000-08:00

It's all I can think about. Yesterday was gorgeous. It was 55 degrees. A few of my boys donned shorts sleeves, even shorts and ran outside to play. There was this smell in the air, you know the one. The smell of the earth beginning to wake up. A few days ago I noticed the first crocus up. I always measure spring my the flowers. First the yellow crocuses, then the purples. Mini daffodils make their appearances with the hyacinths. The big daffies and tulips take the stage. Then the wisteria on my back deck blooms. In the spring I have at least a 60foot wall of wisteria blossoms. The perfume is incredible! Wisteria is so funny, all blooms and no leaves, they come later. Then the lilacs, (ah! the lilacs!) First come the peonies, then come the roses, just in time for memorial day, with our traditional family remembrance at the cemetery. When the lilacs are shriveled and gone, the snowball bushes have their day in the sun. We have a huge snowball hedge that the neighborhood kids watch with baited breath. As soon as the huge balls take on a pinkish tinge, I give the go ahead for the 'snowball' fight. It gets crazy, with inches of petals on the ground. When all the riot of color has subsided, time is measured by fruit. Ah, the fruit!
But I can't think about that yet. Thinking about the flowers is enough for now. I'm so glad we bought the house of someone with a green thumb. There was a huge (what's the word I'm searching for... genocide? holocaust?) of the more fragile and care-intensive plants the year we moved in. Through the years, I've learned little by little about the survivors. So now, if I see a little green nub of a bulb pushing through the soil, there's a good chance I can recognize it! So it just goes to show, as far as plants are concerned, there's hope for anyone!

Vexation and Toil

2009-02-12T08:06:00.001-08:00

I have had one of those mornings that I hope to forget when I look back on my experience as a parent. One morning, in about 16 years, I'll open my eyes to peek at the alarm clock, see that it's 6:30, roll over, and go back to sleep. I'll have a smile on my face, because I won't have to deal with the (insert expletive here) my kids dished out to me this morning.

This morning I was subject to much abuse from Dainon*, my oldest. I'd confiscated their cell phone during mutual, and now he couldn't find it. He has to alternate days with his brother, and he keeps forgetting it on his day. Now he couldn't find it, and it was all my fault. He wandered around dishing out sarcastic musings about what was the point of even having a cell phone if he could never use it. (duh) After frantic searching, I located my purse to return his phone to him only to find- it wasn't there. More complaining. I suggested we call his phone. I did, and what do you know? The ringing came from his own jacket pocket. Somehow, after mutual last night, I managed to sneak his phone back into his pocket without him catching me at it. That's his story anyway.

Then Dallin, my third son, couldn't find his homework packet that was due last week. It's nowhere to be found, so I gingerly picked through the garbage. In doing so, I found a bank statement that my oldest threw away while cleaning up the kitchen last night. Great. My garbage excavation was nearing the icky stuff at the bottom, so I gave up on the packet. Tough luck, buddy.

Then my fourth son Kelton showed up wearing the same clothes as the day before, telling me he had no clean clothes. "Where is the stack of clean clothes I folded and gave to you yesterday?" I asked.

"Gone" he said.

"I don't think so." I replied, none too patiently at this point. We searched his room, and after much vexation and toil on my part, I discovered the errant pile in his brother's drawer. Clean pants were flung in his general direction, and I headed back upstairs to find that Dainon's lunch was still sitting on the table. He'd been gone for almost an hour. When we couldn't find Dallin's old homework packet, I suggested he start working on this weeks, which ironically enough, is due tomorrow. It never made it home. Blast!

I was about to head for the beaches of Mexico when Dallin piped up with, "Hey mom, you know that scout book I need..."

"You mean the one to replace the one you lost?! This isn't a good time to bring that up."

My one bright spot of comfort is the thought that all their valentines are done and at school already. That's something.

*You'll notice that I used my son's real names in this post. I'm tired of thinking of tricky ways of not writing them. I figure, if you really want to stalk them after what you're read today, you know what you're up against. Kidnap them, and they'll throw your bank statements in the trash, knock holes in your walls, and lose all your stuff.

The Hypertextualization of Society

2009-02-11T07:20:00.000-08:00

You know what I'm talking about. The teens and tweens, eyes glued to their phones, thumbs twittering about. Everywhere you go, you see it. Now, the affliction has spread to my very own house!

My older boys have long been suffering under the impression that they have a case of neglect for CPS. "Jake has an Iphone touch!" "Hunter has a Blackberry!" "You're only cool if you have the coolest phone, and I don't even have one at all!" Boo hoo.

I have been unmoved by all this whining. If my boys can't remember their lunches on a regular basis, how in the world are they going to be responsible for a small, expensive piece of telecomunications equipment? My son's mp3 player just went through the laundry. I rest my case.

If they did, indeed, ever get a cell phone, my plan was that it would be a disposable-type of jobbie with a total of 5 monthly minutes. There was a bit of a wrinkle in my plan.

I went out of town for the weekend.

Upon coming down from the mountain, like Moses, I got bad news.

In my absense, my husband had gotten my boys a cell phone. To add insult to injury, it was cooler than mine!

He had a really good reason, that didn't even involve the kids. It was a business decision, a calculated move. That didn't avert my nuclear reaction.

And it didn't phase the boys who were blissed out, dreaming and planning their future coolness.

My life has not been the same since.

Example:

I'm sitting with my kids in a booth of a restaurant. My phone beeps, I check my messages, because I get a lot of business ones these days. There is a photo of myself, taken a scant minute earlier. "You look tired."

A few minutes later, my phone beeps again. I check my phone. There is a big smiley emoticon bouncing with the message "Hi."

This goes on and on.

They have a limit of 400 messages.

Any bets on how soon they blow through these?

Forgiven

2009-02-04T21:11:00.001-08:00

You know what this boy did today? I had a dental cleaning this morning, and didn't get around to finding a babysitter for him. I took a huge risk and brought him with me. And do you know what? He was an angel. He sat on the twirly chair and drew spaceships. He chirped and chirped to the hygienist about how he used to be two, and now he's three. How three is a 'pink' birthday, whatever that means. He told her all about Peter Pan, and how if you think happy thoughts you can fly. He sat still for a whole hour, and thoroughly charmed everyone.

I think I'll keep him after all.

Mommy Hell

2009-01-29T14:28:00.000-08:00

This is actual footage from my cell phone at the grocery store today. Sorry for the poor quality, but it's had a bit of a journey to get to this blog. Here's a transcript: (screaming at the top of his lungs)

"AAAAAAAAAAH! I HATE YOU!!!!! I WANT THIS TO TIP OVER!"

At this point, I still thought it was funny. He's usually an angel whenever I take him anywhere, so I could appreciate a little spice. However, it got waaaaaaaaaaay worse. I've actually never had a fit like this in all my years of parenting rascally boys. I ended up having to haul him out of the cart, sit right down on the floor in the frozen food section and put him in time out. We sat there for what felt like an hour, with him shrieking about how he hated me, and how much I was hurting him. Nice. I think I've gone and lost my "Mother of the Year" award for this one.

And We Have a Winner!

2009-01-27T22:17:00.000-08:00

Congratulations Lee, random.org chose you to be the proud owner of this quintessence of loveliness!

Send me your street address by the method of your choice: email, facebook, skywriter, whatever. Congratulations!

What These Hands hath Wrought- An Earlgirl Giveaway!

2009-01-23T11:42:00.001-08:00

I realized this morning, that I tend to get a bit obsessive in my interests. I have equipment stored in various places all over my house for all kinds of skills. I love to sew, paint watercolors, draw, knit, blog, take pictures, cook, garden, make jewelry, etc, but I never do anything in moderation. If I knit, I knit for a month straight and then never touch it again for two years. I get on a sewing kick and sew ten skirts, then put the machine away. My husband is still waiting for all the beads he bought me two Christmases ago to be put to use.

I knitted a handful of berets as Christmas gifts this last year, and the day after Christmas, I thought to myself, "Earlgirl, what if you started knitting in January, and you just made a few hats every month. Just think of all the cool gifts you could make! You could save yourself so much stress and pressure come December!" So, for the last couple of weeks, I have been eating, sleeping, breathing knitting. And I've been having a ball! I've taken on cables and jacquard knitting (knitting with multiple colors at the same time). I love the challenge.

I'm definitely no pro, but I'm so proud!

Take a look-

I found this pattern in a knitting book, but the colors were red, white and black. I thought to myself, "Wouldn't that be perfect with a deep red, oatmeal with flecks and chocolate brown?" I knew exactly who it would be perfect for as a Christmas present too. Do you think I could keep it a surprise though? No. I'd only been done a few minutes before she'd seen it. The pattern I had was just a square, so I had to adapt it, see that star on top? That was my creation.

Yay! I love it.

I'll have ended up giving away most of my hats, so I decided to make one for my very own self. I'd done a square of knitting cables that go straight up and down, so I wanted to try making them go diagonal. There was no pattern for this one, I just made it up. See how it makes a swirl on top?

I'm never going to take this one off. Oh, and don't you love my snowflake jammies? I wonder how many times I've been seen on this blog wearing those.
Now, for the grand giveaway. One of you can be the proud owner of this baby:

I didn't know about traditional giveaways when I hit 100 posts. I was sewing skirts when I hit 200 posts. Try giving away one of those! But a hat, a hat can be done. So here you have it- I love brown, pink and yellow together. I like the tropical looking flowers. If this baby is meant to be yours, let me know.

Ghetto Beauty Tips by Earlgirl

2009-01-15T09:22:00.001-08:00

Have you ever fretted over dull and lifeless hair? Is your regular shampoo just not working like it used to?

I have the answer for you!

Help is no farther away than your kitchen sink.

Strip away all that build-up and grime left by your favorite styling products with liquid dish soap. Just lather, rinse and repeat to have squeaky clean, shiny hair!

Just make sure your detergent doesn't have bleach.

'Cause that's a bummer. Really.