loss

Today was a hard day.

It didn't help that it was gloomy weather.

But I suppose that matched the mood.

One year ago tomorrow a sweet little girl was suddenly taken from us.

I'll never, ever be the same.

And I'm not her mama.

I know I'm not the only one.

There are so many senses that will never be forgotten in the past year- a year without her.

I'll never, ever forget how small her mama's voice was when she told me how bad things were in the hospital.

I'll never, ever forget her daddy telling me she was gone.

And I'll never, ever forget the incredible wave of sadness that enveloped me and exposed my raw grief- unsensored, in front of my children.

I'll forever be able to close my eyes and watch her little sister walking in circles in the big swimming pool, lost without her big sister to play with.  Her big brother making up excuses to try and get his mama to come back to herself.  Her daddy handling every detail imaginable in an unimaginable circumstance.

I'll forever feel the void in our trips to Cannon Beach, the missing blond braids at the baseball games, the birthday parties. 

I know it's a part of life- circle of life and all.  I know that where she is is far, far better than anyplace I could dream of or imagine.

But it's hard to get over the emptiness.

For a long time I worried who would brush her perfect yellow hair?  Who would give her all the meat she wanted to eat?  Who would hold her hand?  Who would look into her beautiful, soulful, brown eyes and share a giggle over the silly (things the way she did with her mama, siblings, friends, and anyone else who was lucky to experience that)?  Who would show her all the fun things in life?  Who would watch her explore those fun things in life?  Who would read to her?  Who would snuggle her when she needed love?

I felt a hole in my heart bigger than earth.

Again, I'm not her mama.

I worried that her mama wouldn't get the sparkle back in her eyes.

I worried that her little sister wouldn't know how to explore life without her there to guide her.

That her big brother wouldn't have someone to play catch with.

That her daddy wouldn't have a bowling partner.

I've learned so much in this past year.

Her mama did get her sparkle back, and I know she had a big part of that.  She's worked hard to do it for her two other kids.  I think a lot of times it takes a conscious effort.  But the sparkle's there, thank God.

Her sister is dealing with the grief of losing her best friend as only a five year old can... but she's learned to zip around- her sassy little self.
Her brother is working through an enormous change in his family and his own grief, old enough to know exactly what's going on, yet he's doing awesome in all he undertakes and is growing into such a wonderful young man.
Her daddy has shared so much of himself through her, in such a beautiful way.

I wish I knew what do do for them.  I wish I could think of something, anything, to make things just a little easier, a little better for them.  I'm just at a loss.

We're preparing to go back to the place where I learned she was sick, so very sick, then gone- and I'm a little scared it'll be too much.  I'm not sure I'll be able to go back to the place I was when her daddy called.  But I'm trying to move on and dwell on the good things.

I don't allow myself to dwell on the questions and wonderings no one can answer.  I choose to believe that she is surrounded by more glory and beauty and love than we can ever imagine or dream of.  That she can't fathom the sadness of her absence.  That time to her, now, is milliseconds to our lifetimes.

I believe in heaven, in God, and that we'll get to see her before she knows it.  That she is happy, laughing, doing all the things she loves, and enjoying watching all of us down here trying to live a life a little better because of having known her. 

I've learned to allow my children to indulge in sweets, soda, and extravagances when I can.

I've learned to venture outside my gerbil circle and show my kids the wonders of the world we live in.

I've learned to cut loose more and experience life a little more fully.

I play a mean game of Charley bug.

I watch diligently for rainbows.

I try to think of others a little more.

I ran a half marathon and plan to run another.

I try to live a life she would approve of.

That little girl had such an impact on me and my family- and I know we are not alone.

I am far better for having known her- I know I'm not alone, and I believe that she is not alone.  She can feel our love.

I'm so grateful I got to experience a little life with Sweet Charley B.

laundry

Saturdays are so glamorous. 

Especially when Mark's at work.

Can you hear my sarcasm?

I really don't get it.  But there has to be a better way. 

I do at least a load of laundry at least every other day.  There's no slacking off for a week at a time for me.

Yet, this is the monster that I tackled and attempted to tame tonight...

 (The laundry room isn't complete yet- it's going to be pretty one day soon).

In case you wondered what laundry for a family of six might look like.

Really?

Is this necessary?!

Honestly, I was caught up on laundry TWO days ago!

And this doesn't include my laundry, which of course is MINIMAL.

Funny thing is, it's only going to get worse as the kids get bigger

and smellier.

Maybe it's time to train Sarina.  She's the first born.  She should be meticulous.  Plus she's an Aquarius and they're supposed to love order...

I talk big. 

It'll always be me.

I like things folded and sorted a certain way.

Just like I like the dishwasher loaded a certain way.

And the dishes put away just the right way.

Oh man.  I'm a control freak?

And I'm not a first born or an Aquarius.

I better get that cinnamon swirl bread out of the oven and get to bed.  It's just too much for me right now.

Since I'm jumping all over the place anyway, have I said that I LOVE my bread machine?  It makes the house smell so good, even if I can't eat it...

July 11th HcG is complete and I'm celebrating with a skinny girl margarita (or 3).

Enough.  I'm all over the place.

Time for bed.

Sogni D'Oro
(dream of gold in Italian- sounds so much nicer than sleep tight don't let the bedbugs bite- why would you want to think of bugs as you fall asleep?!  I'd much rather think of gold in a beautiful land ahh Italia...:)

Coolest Job

Ok.  I know no one likes a bragger.

But, for a minute I'm going to indulge myself...

I know my job is pretty cool.  I get to check out neat historic buildings and get paid for it.  I enjoy it.  But it's not everyone's cup of tea.

It's got nothing on my husband. 

My husband has the coolest job.

I know I tease him about hanging out at the fire station.  Eating and sleeping and sometimes goofing off. 

"Eat til your sleepy, sleep til you're hungry."

But I also realize that he deals with some nasty stuff.  Some things that would probably make me throw up without being able to sensor myself.  Some things that would give me nightmares.  And some that make me giggle when I think about them 10 years later.

I can't say enough how proud of him I am.

He set a goal to become a firefighter and was willing to do everything in his power to achieve it.

Just after he graduated from college his days were usually- ride his bike from Phinney or nearby to open the Seattle Greenlake Starbucks store in the mornings (4am) then ride his bike to the gym to work out, then ride  from his gym in Freemont to Lake City Way to work at The Boys and Girls Club until all the kids were picked up (around 6pm).

He did this for a year and it was grueling. 

He took every firefighter test he came across. 

He sat in the testing lab and memorized the questions so that he could zip out and instantly review his study materials to find out what he might have missed so he could study harder the next time around.

When our hometown tested it was so great that out of (I think it was) 850 people testing he made it to the final 4 who were hired. 

Can you imagine applying for a job and competing against 850 people?!

I often think of his job in abstract terms.  I don't really see much when we stop in to say hi.

But today he planned to "drill"- I explained to the kids that means practice and said he'd like to see us (really I think he meant the kids- but that's ok:)

So, we stopped by the drill pad (like that I know the lingo?) to see what was going on.

My kids are so lucky.

Not only do they get to sit in a fire engine everytime they see daddy at work, today they got to watch them squirt hoses.  And the word squirt does not do this process justice.

And if you're wondering, yes, those are pajama shorts Elsa is wearing.  I let her dress herself since she's been sporting a fever for 2 days now.  She was wearing a swimsuit cover up over this ensemble just before this picture.

Elsa really wants to operate this.  The boys are checking everything out.

Lucky girl really holds on like a real firefighter.

Another angle of the lucky girl.

The kids getting ready for daddy to do a trick with the spray.

Mr. Handsome there (even if he isn't in his Class B uniform-the bunkers are pretty nice too) getting ready to switch the spray so it fans out like an umbrella. 

Isn't he hunky?  I'm a lucky girl...

There's nothing more sexy than a man who genuinely enjoys his kids, the uniform is nice too.

And yes, I know that I'm down a child.  That lucky kiddo is on night 2 of a sleepover with one of the funnest moms around.  She got to do a 5k at the State Patrol Academy this morning and who knows what other super cool stuff she's done.  I think some of it involved swimming.  Lucky.

Ok, I'm done bragging.

And sorry ladies.  He's taken.

Can't believe I've known him for 25 years.

How did I get old enough for that?!

Teacher Gifts

I always have unrealistic expectations on what I want to accomplish. 

I dream of coming up with something really creative and unusual for every occasion.  Kind of like the kid in Christmas Story.

One of my favorite people always bakes pies for her kids teachers for Thanksgiving.  She does a million other super thoughtful things throughout the year too.

I find it amazing that she's able to get that done in addition to all her own cooking, baking, preparing for the holidays.  But she does and I am 100% certain those teachers really appreciate it.

I googled teacher gifts to see what I could come up with.  One cute idea was a s'mores package (http://oursemihomemadelife.blogspot.com/2009/06/semi-homemade-teacher-gifts.html) it's a cute idea.  And I almost went with it, but knew I'd want to take it further...

Then I was at target the other day and saw these adorable plastic popcorn tubs for $2.  And we all know I have the best caramel corn recipe courtesy of Laney Dineen, my post-college (and sorority sister) roommate's mom who made the most amazing recipe book which includes little stories about when she makes the recipes and where they came from. 

One day I'll get there.

So, I just doubled my caramel corn (also known as Carl's corn) recipe and filled the tubs.  With more than enough to spare for the kids to munch on tomorrow while I'm at work.

And the extras...

Family update.

I have a feeling that Elsa is going to be celebrating her birthday for many days to come.  We seemed to stretch out her birthday long enough.

Her birthday was on Saturday the 18th and unfortunately Mark had to work.  But we still went to visit- after the brand new Station 4 open house- so we could spend a little time with Mark without lots of people needing his attention or asking questions when I knew the kids would just want to play on him like he's the best jungle gym in the world.

And I'll confess, we did toy with the idea of passing off the open house as her birthday party.  Who wouldn't want the Mayor to talk at your birthday party?  They had balloons, and shiny red fire engines.  What more would a kid want?  And at 3 I think she might have believed it...

But we didn't- back to daddy being the best jungle gym in the world.  It's not so professional.  I guess...

It's a beautiful station- and I like to think I know a thing or two about architecture. 

Kudos to the architects.

Here's Elsa wrestling with the headsets in the engine.

The headset won.  You should have seen all the hair it pulled out!!!

The rest of the kids had fun too.  I guess it never gets old hopping into the fire engines.

Here's Charlie trying to think up a good potty talk line to drop on his brother and sisters over the headsets.

Carl showing off his loose tooth.

And cool cat Sarina...

After that we stopped by to zip through grandma's house then off to Red Robin where two angels met me to keep me sane through the adventure of Red Robin with a 9, 6, 4, and just 3 year old. 

And it was crowded in there!

But they sang happy birthday to Elsa. 

That's the whole reason we went there.

I look more excited than she does.  I think it's the most still I have EVER seen that little girl.  She soaked it all in and loved every minute of it.

Now if you saw a Pacifica parked in the Red Robin parking lot around 5:30 on June 18th with blue balloons hanging out the doors.  That was mine.  We packed that car full of the leftover balloons from the fire station open house.  When the doors opened some wandered and I couldn't play the game of stuffing them in when I had kids to chase in the parking lot...  It wasn't intentional...

Then there was Baskin Robbins afterwards.

She's getting so big so fast. 

I like that but I don't. 

She's my baby who hasn't ever really been much of a baby- racing to keep up with her brothers and sister.

Welcome to 3 Miss Elsa Jane. 

And no, you really aren't 5 like you try to tell everyone.

Close Call

I'm guessing that I'm not the only parent who's had numerous close calls with their kids' safety.  Those heart stopping moments where you hold your breath and pray that they're ok.

I remember one especially close call that left me screaming soundlessly and it wasn't in a nightmare.  I was awake and it was real.  Carl and a friend were crossing a parking lot and a car zoomed within inches of them.  I was so terrified it left me reeling for days.  I'm still militant with the kids in parking lots.  People around me must think I'm nuts, constantly barking at them to stay next to me or to have their hands on the car.

This morning as I was getting myself and the kids ready for the day.  I let them play in the pole barn Mark's building on an amazing little vehicle called "the green machine."  They laid eyes on it and have not been able to part with it for more than minutes ever since.  Carl was literally asking at 6:15am if he could go out and ride it.

I said ok then saw him taking off for the barn and tried to talk him into just riding around the driveway but really, why settle for exposed aggregate driveway when there's a whole pole barn with nice smooth concrete just calling your name.

I figured that my nervousness about someone swooping by to grab him on their way to work was just being over protective and let him go as long as he checked in periodically.

What I didn't expect was that Charlie would follow him out there and decide to try and ride the back hoe from Mark's tractor (that's currently detached) like a bronco.

As I was done with my primping, Sarina's lunch was all packed, her hair was done, the kids had breakfast and their morning ovaltine (moo-moops for those who know) and I still had minutes to spare before the bus came. 

I felt pretty good about myself. 

Not to mention the kids were already outside getting fresh air.

Then Sarina comes racing from the barn, frantic.  All I could make out was "Charlie" and "barn."  She was crying and clearly terrified.

I ran as fast as my long skirt and flip flops allowed and found Charlie stumbling toward me with one shoe on- sobbing.

I checked him from head to toe and didn't see any blood or protruding bones. 

Then I understood his foot had been caught...

He must have used the levers and moved them just enough to pinch the side of his Romeo boot. 

I tried pulling it out but couldn't budge it. 

And I think I'm pretty strong.  Hefting around 50 lb bags of chicken and dog food from time to time doesn't make for a complete wimp.

Thank God he was wearing those shoes.  Most of the time he's running around barefoot.

I'm trying not to think about "What if..." 

It took me a good 45 minutes to stop shaking and for my heart rate to go back to normal.

You always hear terrifying stories about kids and big equipment.  Grandpa Charlie was just talking about how he had his leg caught in rototiller when he was little.  Who doesn't have a grandparent who lost a family member on a tractor accident?

It's one of those things about living in the country. 

Absolutely terrifying. 

But I try not to be too obsessed, just cautious.  I want all my babies to keep their limbs and digits.

And this was too good not to share.

UPDATE

Here's the shoe after it was liberated from the clutches of that nasty old back hoe:

And I'm still SO grateful that for some strange reason he put his shoes on that day to go outside and play.  Most days he's zipping around like Shoeless Joe Jackson.

Phew!


Here's Elsa.  It's 60 degrees outside.  She's sporting one of her brother's cleats and one of her sister's "ugg" boots. 

Ahhh, to be 2 almost 3 with the wind blowing through your hair as your swimsuit falls around your waist and your neighbor's trampoline calls your name...

And I must say, dinner tonight was awesome.  I made refried bean taquitos (a can of refried beans, two salad spoon sized spoonfuls of southwestern salsa and a sprinkle of cheese rolled in a flour tortillas-10- and baked at 400).  They gobbled it up- all 4 of them!  And that's RARE.  I served it with dipping sauce of the salsa and some of my sour cream, ranch dressing, taco seasoning and milk concoction.

For me, it was a cup of purple cabbage, an orange and a talapia fillet broiled with garlic salt and fresh ground pepper dressed with balsamic vinegar and Frank's hot sauce.  Just 4 days of 500 calories left...

Mark gets firehouse chili.  Lucky.

A Stranger At The Door

Hebrews 13:2
Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.

I love that verse from the Old Testament.  My mom has it on a plaque next to her front door.  And I love when it's discussed in church.  I LOVE the idea of getting to entertain an angel and doing so beautifully.

Tonight as I was bracing myself to start the bathtime/stories/bedtime marathon, someone rang our doorbell. 

I live out in the boonies on 5 acres, but it's only the second house off the freeway...

This seems to happen most often when my husband's on a 24 hour shift and I feel a little nervous anyway.  (One night it was a woman who was missing more fingers than she actually had, not to mention missing teeth...  Did I say we're en route to Shelton?)

Since I didn't see a car I figured it was my neighbor, sweet Kelly or one of her kids.  So I opened the door without hesitation.

But it wasn't Kelly or one of her kids.  It was a man, a little odd looking, holding an empty gallon water jug nervously explaining that his car had broken down and he needed water for it.

I have all 4 kids clustered around me at the door and am trying to not be too obvious as I keep them from spilling out onto the porch.  And of course one is only half dressed...

I think they could sense my fear because they were ALL OVER ME.

I took the jug, closed the door leaving the man on the porch, then walked in to the kitchen to fill his water jug.

The kids are chattering, "Is that man poor?"  "Is he a bad guy?"  And I'm trying to shush them so he doesn't hear their questions.

I give him the jug and wish him luck with his car and he wishes me luck back.  Nervous response or just odd- I'm not sure.  I couldn't help but notice that he stared a little too long at my chest when he took his water bottle...

I don't like that I have a suspicious feeling when a stranger comes to my door.  I feel like a bad person for assuming that someone evil is going to burst into my house and hurt me or my children.  Is it society or is it paranoia?  Too much television news?

I want to see a person in need and come to their aid without hesitation.  Why do I question their motives and intentions?  Surely in biblical times there were rapists and murderers, yet they seemed to try and outdo each other entertaining strangers.

Of course if it were my child, friend, or relative, I'd want them helped when in need. 

So, while I'm a little leery- I try to help as I can. 

Because what if it IS an angel and I just don't know?

Taco Salad

Before I get to the recipe a little dinnertime story.

Last night Carl requested that we say prayers before dinner.  (Sarina went through that phase too- it's so endearing).

So, Carl starts it off with an angelic smile.  "Thank you God for my beautiful family.  My beautiful dad, mom, sisters and brother."  I think that's how it went.

Then Charlie chimes in (actually before Carl could finish) "Thank you God for the beautiful naked ladies." 

What?!

Then they both giggle.

Oh my.  What's in store for us..?

The girls also added their prayers but more appropriately than Mr. Charlie (Sarina sang the Apple Seed prayer and Elsa made something up.)

Now for dinner.

I'm making taco salad for dinner tonight and it reminded me that a friend I recently took dinner to (while she recovered from surgery) requested the recipe...

Taco Salad Schreck Style

ground beef (however much you like- right now I'm browning 4.11lbs because it freezes well and is easy for meals down the road either at the fire station for Mark or home)  I season it with Costco's taco seasoning mix- one of these days I'll try the America's Test Kitchen taco seasoning recipe- I hear it's super yummy).

For the salad I usually combine:
1 can kidney beans, rinsed and drained
1 can corn - I buy the crisp sweet something or other in a short fat can- the name escapes me
cucumber sliced
red, yellow, or orange bell pepper sliced up
black olives
lettuce (again whatever's on hand- tonight it's romaine, sometimes it's field greens, sometimes it's plain old iceburg which has such a nice crunch even if there is no nutritional value)
shredded cheese (colby, jack, cheddar- whatever's on hand)
I really like to add a couple of hard boiled eggs- I know it sounds weird but my mom made it that way (I think) and it's how I like it.  My kids on the other hand cannot stand hard boiled eggs so those get omitted:(

dressing:
This I just eyeball.  I mix up sour cream with a little milk to make it a good dressing consistency.  To that I add some ranch mix (I like Uncle Dan's) and more of the taco seasoning- to taste.  If I'm feeling fancy and have it on hand I'll add a couple spoonfuls of salsa.  And if I'm wanting it spicy I'll add some hot sauce (Tabasco or Franks either works).

Mix the salad with the dressing.

When I serve it I crush up some Doritos (fancy I know- you can use some more fancy chips if you like- those Chipotle Cheese rice and bean chips would be good too)

Top the chips with some of the salad

Add some cheese

Then some meat.

Buon Appetito.  Wait, that's Italian.  I don't remember the Spanish version.  Enjoy.  That's better.

Hasta luego.

Oh yeah, I'm still doing HcG.  I've lost 13 lbs and am nearing the home stretch on the injections.  Just 3-4 more of injections then 3 days of 500 calories.  After that is 3 weeks of no sugar or starches.  I'm holding steady, and have yet to cheat once.:)  Plus I've been exercising every other day.  First my 5 mile run/walk, then Jillian Michael's Ripped in 30, then spin class, and today Jillian again.  Thank God Jillian gets a tad bit easier on the second run through- that's one tough 30 minute stretch!

Strawberries the second time around

Last night was a rare night when Mark and I went to bed early, at 11:00 at night I hear something in the boys room but ignore it thinking someone was shuffling around in there.

Not long after I hear the "Maaamaaaaaa" call.  You know when you hear that call someone's sick.  I raced in there afraid of what I'd encounter. 

Charlie groaned that he "throwed up."  As I reached for him to pull him off the top bunk, his little shoulder brushed my mouth. 

Of course that was the shoulder COVERED IN VOMIT! 

Smeared    all     over     my     mouth!!!!

I pinched my lips together and raced him to the bathroom to clean us both up.

I'll admit it.  I scrubbed my mouth THOROUGHLY before tacking his little vomit soaked pjs and getting him cleaned up. 

Of course then I changed all his bedding and got him all nestled back in hoping that was the end of it. 

But he had more. 

I had no idea one little belly could hold so much. 

That was the thought in my head as I was gagging but trying to hide it while he wretched into the toilet.  The poor guy was awesome thank God we raced to the potty in time.

It's my fault.  I let him eat a TON of strawberries and cool whip for dessert.  He blew through his, had seconds, then ate Carl's whole dessert.  It was one of the rare times I wasn't monitoring how much he was eating for dessert.  I decided to let him decided when he was done. 

Oops. 

I guess there's a fine line between monitoring and letting him learn his limit.

Poor baby.

It reminds me of a time I spent the night with my grandma (of the Golden Rule fame) and she let me eat a whole jar of dry roasted peanuts.  It was years- maybe a decade- before I'd touch a dry roasted peanut again.

I wonder if Charlie would eat a strawberry tomorrow...

Already?!

This was actually drafted yesterday...

When did this little angel turn into such a big girl?

I swear it happened over night.

Maybe I was in denial but I truly forgot that there was a stage called the Tweens.

I'm really not ready for this stage. It's a warning that my little girl won't be little much longer and I feel like I just got her. I remember holding her in the daze of first-time-mama-blur thinking, she's mine. We made her and this little person was created 1/2 Mark and 1/2 me. It was so amazing I remember it taking my breath away.

Fast forward 9 short (yes a lot has been packed into them but they still feel like short) years.

Now I have a little girl experimenting with strong emotions everytime I turn around.

And it's really tough to let roll off my back.

I try to be a pretty neutral person- there are enough hotheads out there to color the world- I like safe.

Did you know I was a Middle Child?

I've tried to keep the word "hate" out of my kids vocabulary. Now I hear it all the time. "I HATE my hair!". "That SUCKS!". "It's so DUMB!". Over what seems to me like the most trivial things.

Cognitively, I know it's practice for the curve balls life will throw her way. So I take a deep breath and let it go. It's so very hard for me...

Yes, I'm still on my wacky diet. I've lost 11 lbs so far but am looking for another 10. My naturopath said I could exercise and it would boost the weightloss. Initially I considered trying Jillians Ripped In 30 but my practical thinking husband suggested I got for a walk instead. Of course, a half marathoner such as myself has a little pride... So I did a nice hilly 5 mile (ok almost- 4.92 to be exact) walk/run. It was decent I did it in an hour which I don't think is too bad considering how long it's been since I last ran (May 15th if you're curious) and my 2 straight weeks at 500 calories.

I just finished weeding a SMALL portion of my yard and am enjoying a little sunshine and birdsong before Mark gets home with the kids.

It's a beautiful day.

Definitely one to sing our praises.

I know I lead a blessed life.