Look Good Feel Good

I don't know where I first heard that saying, but it resonated with me pretty early on in life.

I remember there was one time in high school when I tried to go to school in my sweats and without a shower.

I couldn't make it through the whole day, somehow I finagled a way home to quickly shower and put on real clothes before heading back.

It's true, if I don't feel like I look good (or as best as I can pull off for the day...) then I feel off all day long.

It's why I rarely go out in public pre-shower- except if I know I'm going to work out or run.  Then I roll out of bed, throw on workout clothes and go for it.  Sometimes just wiping the smeared makeup from under my eyes with my sleeve.

But that's really the only time I do it.

And as much as it bothers me that I feel this way, I feel better with newer name brand things.

I think I've said this before, but I'm consciously trying to raise my kids to not care about name brands or if things are new.  Maybe it will spare them of the shallowness I do not want to pass on...

But oh how I love designer jeans (I buy them second hand), and the latest jewelry and accessories, and styles of shoes, and driving a new car.

As much as I hate that our suburban is such a gas guzzler (both for the $ and the environmental aspects) I feel better about myself when I'm driving it.

Shallow.

I know.

Super duper shallow.

Which is why I'm trying to appreciate the humble pie I was served today.

I drove our 1992 Honda Accord to my meetings for work today.

It's leaking oil, the windshield has a massive crack running through it, the weatherstripping is a bit mossy, the antenna is broken, and it's pretty noisy.  There's a melted green crayon on the back seat, used turkey fryer oil spilled in the trunk, yadda, yadda, and yadda.

Frankly, every time I park that baby I hope that someone I know doesn't see me stepping out of it.

I know.

Shallow.

So today, upon leaving my meeting I realize the battery is dead.

Funkin awesome!

The car is old enough that the headlights don't turn themselves off automatically.  And I forgot to turn them off myself when I parked that bad boy.

Probably because I was in a rush to get away from it so no one would see me near it.

So, I asked a police officer I noticed in the City Hall parking lot if he could help me or know of someone who might be able to help me.

Which he kindly provided me the help I needed.

After he rummaged in his new car for jumper cables it dawned on me that there just might be a set in my trunk.

And, there was!

Silver lining here...

So another police officer helped push the Hondacar into position and I went to pop the hood and accidentally popped the trunk instead.

Feeling like a super idiot I explained to the nice man that I rarely drive that car.

And, under his breath I heard him say, "I can understand why."

Ouch.

I know.  I'm a good person and really, it doesn't matter what kind of car I drive.  And I consciously repeat that to myself every time I get to drive it- over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over...

Mmmm Mm!  Humble pie.

Perhaps I'm Turning into a Prude

Long, long ago...

In a time far away.

Before I had kids,

I had many

many

many opinions.

So very many.

Drive thrus were for lazy people.

(Yup, I thought that rude thought in my head and maybe even said it out loud).

Of course now I often drive out of my way to find one that suits my needs, if I have a car full of kids- because we all know shuffling them in and out of a car is often like trying to herd cats...

Hmmm, what else...

Well, the latest was that it was ridiculous that some grocery stores covered up regular magazine covers because they were too suggestive (Cosmo).

Such ridiculous prudes (likely from the bible belt) probably demanded it from afar.

Well, the other day I'll admit that I wished there were such covers over the magazines at our local Top Foods.

Now that my kids read (and 3 letter words are super easy to read quickly) they pay attention to those enticing magazine covers claiming that they'll improve your sex life.

My little boys were thumbing through the latest issue of Cosmo looking at all the exposed flesh.

I think I wish those bible belt prudes would call Top Foods so I don't have to.

"Hey mom, they look like balls!"

They kept exclaiming.

I didn't even look.

Because really, what could I have done.

I kind of tried to encourage them to move on (unsuccessfully).

The same sweet boys spent a good chunk of time hammering geodes to reveal the crystals inside.

I think that's MUCH better than eyeballing all kinds of pictures of people in their undies in Cosmo.

Little Critters

Have I said that I wasn't sure I wanted kids?

Truly, if Mark hadn't been so big on having a big family who knows where we'd be today.

To be honest, little kids with their boogers,

and their runny noses,

the barf

and poop

disgusted me.

It overshadowed the cuteness- by far- in my mind.

I didn't mind them when they were clean and happy,

but I couldn't get out of there fast enough when they were messy and covered in bodily discharge.

Lucky for me, God saw a window the single week I went off of the pill- totally on accident (I forgot to renew my prescription before one insurance ran out and the other took over).

In that single week- out of 13 years of taking pill- God saw his window,

and we now have our precious (usually) little Sarina Grace.

We were hooked.

Of course then followed another, and another, and another before we had to stop the insanity!

So, I don't know how it all happened, lucky coincidence I suppose...that I find myself (today) in charge of my own four kids, plus a bonus 3rd daughter who's been with us since Friday evening (it's now Sunday).

Yet, I wouldn't change this path for anything in the world.

Then there are the animals...

Again, with the mess factor-

I've never been an "animal lover"

though I appreciate them from a distance

I've never been a big, get-in-their-face dog lover.

It completely grosses me out to let them lick my face.

Um, have you seen how they bathe?!

And I know my dog eats poop so I'm pretty sure there are others out there who find it delectable as well...

Gross.

Don't get me wrong.  I love my animals, and I often love giving them loves.  But you do have to admit, their hygiene is a little gross to us humans...

The animal tally today is:

five butterflies (Charlie's fantastic Christmas gift from his family in Leavenworth)

here he is watching over his beautiful creatures

butterfly with open wings

 three dogs- two of our own plus one we get to watch every now and then

Hunter & Ollie

Hunter (right) & Shreker (left)

 And Bob, our beta that I cannot believe has lived so long, in spite of our unintentional neglect.

Bob (right)

It's a wacky, crazy life out here in the country.

And I'm so blessed that it's mine.

And thankful I don't have to watch over 21 chickens any longer.

But that doesn't mean the chickens will be absent forever...

Signing off,
the crazy mama
with 4 (+1 today) kids, 2 (+1 today) dogs and a fish = 9 beings other than herself

Do Boys Have Long Hair?

This morning, as we were walking through a rare patch of sunshine to pick up Carl for this little beauty...

Yup, $1800 so his chin doesn't grow like Leno's.

Anyway, as Elsa and I were walking to the school, I was enjoying the sunshine and she was quiet.

A sure sign something was up.

She held my hand and asked, "Do boys have long hair?"

She was focused and looked me in the eye, patiently waiting my answer.

"Yes" was my instant answer, knowing there was more to the question than the surface.

"I want to be a boy."  She said it quietly but with a whole lot of longing.

Where do you go with that question?

I answered with what came naturally, "God made you a girl.

But that doesn't mean you can't do everything boys do.

And you can still dress like a boy."

I know I've said it before, but I'm so very glad she was not my first child.

I know that if she was my first, I would have projected my own insecurities on her.

Frankly, right now I'm too busy to dwell too long on those insecurities.

Yet, I feel like I have to tread carefully

so that she can maintain her wonderful sense of self esteem.

A little part of me wishes I'd chosen Jackie or Jamie or Chris so that whatever route she chooses in life she keeps as much of herself as she can along the way.

I do love the name Elsa Jane but I love the curly honey-color hair person it belongs to, even if she dresses in her brother's clothes from head to toe.

Really, she is "funkin" awesome.

Nope, that's never going to get old.

This is Really Awesome

Have you heard that song, "Thrift Shop"?

"Only got twenty dollars in my pocket
I - I - I'm hunting, looking for a come-up
This is freaking awesome"

Well, some versions use the naughty word but my kids listen to the "clean" version which says freakin.

So...

Last Saturday was the daddy marathon.

Poor guy slept a whopping 2 hours Friday night because he had the joy of tending to the non-tax paying homeless all night long, who were drunk and wanted a free ride to clog up our emergency rooms (but that's a different soap box so I'll stop now).

Anyway, the day's events included: Carl's basketball game at 10 that Mark got to coach, Elsa's dad's day at pre-school (Dad's Snow Great!), Sarina had two basketball games that Mark got to coach, then escort Sarina to the father-daughter dance.

But the humorous highlight of the day, which has brought us all many inappropriate giggles, comes from the mouth of our babe...

Elsa must have been riding cloud 9 after a fun Dad's Day program.

In the car on the way home she informed Mark that Dad's Day had been,

"funkin awesome."

Lyric mix up courtesy of "Thrift Shop."

To make matters even better- at dinner the next night Mark asked Elsa to tell me how Dad's Day had been- trying to get her to say "funkin awesome" again.  When it did come out the kids all thought she said the big F word.

Charlie even announced, "That's the F word!"

To which Elsa stood on her chair, elated, shouting, "I know the F word!" with the biggest smile on her face.  With so much pride and excitement.

Now there's been a lot of things in our house that have been "funkin awesome".

But we have to mouth it to each other to keep it from becoming an epidemic in our house of little comedians.

Yup, our lives are "funkin awesome."

Very Funny God

I think that God must have a great sense of humor.  Truly.  Why else would he allow the scenario that unfolded in my hectic day? Here it is from the beginning... This morning was normal.  Got up, fed the kids, made lunches, took my shower, Mark saw the kids off onto the bus (well 1/2 of them anyway). I busted a#$ trying to clean up the house, upstairs and down (not that that's normal-just the hectic tone of the morning was normal).   It was a day for a rare event- delivery people bringing new furniture!!  I wanted to clean up enough so we looked like the kind of people used to delivery people coming in, at least for part of the day... Then I dropped 1/2 of the kids at my moms house so I could have the joy of going to my 3 years overdue annual exam.   Lucky me. I'm healthy for the most part. The issues I'd hoped to eliminate by removing my IUD, I was told, are just part of being in my late 30s. Ugh. Then I zipped to get the kids, get 3 birthday gifts, off to birthday party, then home for new daybed delivery for a freshly turned 11 year old girl, then post old bed on craigslist. Zip. Zip. Zip. Here and there and everywhere. You know its funny.  As I "cleaned" the powder room this morning (aka swipe a bleach wipe over the visible splotches of urine on and in the vicinity of the toilet) I BRIEFLY thought I should really wipe down every surface in that room.  Then the idea flitted away as fast as the kids say, "mom I'm hungry!" the second they step off the school bus. Did you know there was a brief(ish) time in my life I sold skin care products with the main goal to be able to make enough $ to hire someone to clean my house? It's true!  I'm a terrible sales person, but I hate cleaning toilets that much.  Maybe it's because my mom and grandma are champion toilet cleaners... they even heat water to scrub those bowls sparkly clean. There's no way I can keep up with that standard. So I don't even try. It amused my grandfather to no end when he heard about my aversion to toilet cleaning. So, as I was responding to the various craigslist emails to get rid of the old bed, I heard running water. Realizing that quite a while ago we'd insisted that little-miss-big-pants wipe her own bottom, I thought perhaps she'd forgot to turn off the water in the sink after washing her hands. Ahh that was wishful thinking.  (Both that she'd wash her hands and that the sound was sink water). No.  No.  No. This is God's humor here... It was poopy toilet water streaming over the sides of the toilet bowl. Inches thick on the floor. As I ripped off the lid to the innards of the toilet flushing system and held whatever piece stops the water from running, I screamed at the kids to bring towels and get daddy. Looks like I did get a chance to clean every surface in that little room. And a large, large stack of towels too. Well played big man.   Lesson learned. Maybe I should clean a room top to bottom every now and then.