Abstract Crazy #1

I really want to title all of my blogs "crazy happenings of the day."

Today I was thinking about how those amazingly creative artists can run around giving their beautiful paintings boring names like Abstract in Blue #346.  Who knows maybe they wanted to make it tricky for art history exams.  But it was an appealing concept for me.


So why not title all my crazies Abstract #'s?

Just more action packed days around here that I want to document because I know that when I reflect back in time, years down the road, when the most exciting adventure in my life is a trip to the grocery store, I'll wonder what my days were filled with when I had all those kids underfoot.

So, Mark's out of town at Joshua Tree attending an amazing rope rescue course.  I'm really proud of him for taking such initiative for this.  He wrote a grant application and was awarded a grant to attend (so the City doesn't have to pay the $1200 or so for him to attend).  And we used airline miles for him to fly down and camp in the desert in 100 degree temps so that he can be even better at his job.

Pretty awesome in my book.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

Yesterday, desperate to get in an outside run and no one to keep the kids in sight (I've tapped all resources so that I can go to Palm Desert with Mark for 6 days) I talked with Sarina to see if she felt comfortable watching the kids while I went for a run.

She's such a responsible, nurturing girl (when she wants to be), and I knew that if she was on board it would be a-okay.  And she was!  I had an awesome run with some neighbor(ish) ladies.  It was beautiful outside, great company, and a nice and hilly 4 miles.  Felt SOO good to do.

Then all day the kids played outside with the neighbors.  Sarina and Carl went to the neighbors behind us for the afternoon.

I watched the next door neighbors catch and trim their pot belly pig's hoof (they could only get one done).  I was completely entertained by that process.

Come nightfall the crazies come out.

I think I was folding laundry (what a surprise, I know) when I hear wailing downstairs.

I know it might be a little jaded of me, but some days I figure that if it's bad enough they'll come find me.

Which they did.

Apparently, Elsa was too loud for Mr. Charlie, who happened to have a handy metal pole (from Elsa's bed guardrail) in his hand

which he jabbed at her mouth to quiet her down.

I don't think that worked because she amped up the volume significantly.

I would too if my front tooth was chipped and had a big cut on the inside of my top lip.

Poor baby girl.

But I couldn't get too mad at Charlie because while he was frantically trying to hug his sorry all over his baby sister he got the second biggest bloody nose he's ever had.

Once they were settled, bathed, and Elsa almost in bed, the big kids came home and the excitement rose right up.

But, again, settled the kids, got them into bed and guess who lost his first (unassisted) tooth!  Big (metal pole wielding) Charlie Bear!

He's sticking his tongue through the now even bigger space between his teeth.

Today was Ollie's big 3rd puppy check up.  She's growing nicely.  Went from 24 to 33 lbs.  All's good except her ear infection.

Not only do I get to forget my child's amoxicillin 2x day for 10 days, now I get to clean a puppy's ears 3 times each side two times a day plus ointment.

I really am not that much of an animal lover.

Totally sucks that now I have that added to my cup that's all ready overflowing.

Huge sigh.

Between puppy vet visits, shopping with my always generous mom, we squeezed in a playdate at the park on this beautiful day.  One shining moment was when the boys all started taking off their t-shirts and Elsa made her way to me to tell me she was hot.

I knew she was going to ask if she could take her shirt off too.

Which I'd let slide the day before when she was playing in the backyard with the neighbors- I admit I did tell her that girls don't run around with their shirts off.

Her response was instant,

"Well, I do."

All righty then.

So, I was in a quandary about no shirt in a public park.  With that long beautiful hair she couldn't pass as a boy in spite of the clothes, running, and general boy-type play.

But I let her.

That was a tough call for me.

Then, big news here, we picked the kids up from school and took the girls to get their hair cut.

Yup, I said girls.

Elsa had her very first hair cut.

I used to be able to say she was wearing every bit of hair God gave her.

Not anymore.

That's a little sad for me.

But she was awfully cute getting it done.

Here she's getting it washed.

Getting ready to trim.

Now she's telling the nice lady something about how awesome her big sister is.

She's really getting into it.  See her feet crossed?

I know I should have taken an after picture but I wanted to save it for when she was wearing something other than her brother's hand me down spiderman t-shirt and athletic shorts.

She's starting to blend a little girliness into her tom-boy persona.

I like it.

I hope those girls have many more beauty dates together.

And yes, the metal poles have been removed from reach, just for clarification.

Dinner Waste

I don't know why I thought I needed to order 3 orders of chicken teriyaki from Happy T.

For some silly reason, I thought that the kids might be hungry after eating like birds all day,

playing in the sunshine,

playing/watching baseball all day long.

I thought that might help them to work up an appetite.

Looks like $40 just went straight into the garbage.

Ugh.

There's a lot of other things I'd rather do with $40 than shovel it all into the garbage.

And when did Happy T get so expensive?!

And why in the world did I think polished black counter tops were a good idea?  

Do you see those smudges?!

Now here's a fun one for you after a big day in the sunshine.  

Everyone kept saying I was burning.

I know what you're thinking, 

and nope,

that's not a dickey.  

That's me.  

And my awesome sunburn lines. 

It's like a temporary tattoo.  

Yay me.

Since when do I burn?!  Where has that ozone gone?

No Grace At All

Wow.  

It's amazing I'm still shocked at the crazy things that happen around here...

Yesterday I managed to lock my keys in the running car.  I know it's hard to do these days with all that technology in these ridiculously expensive cars.  

But I managed to do it.

And since I had to zip all over the county gathering up my gaggle that had spread far and wide so I could attend the memorial service for my childhood priest (who performed our wedding ceremony for us) and time was of the essence, I was eternally grateful for OnStar- and that I remembered our numeric pass code.

I know I did other klutzy things yesterday too, but those escape me.

Today was a good one.

Charlie was Special Helper for the very last time at Gloria Dei Pre-School.  

And we all know how he loves all things living.

So for his show and tell he wanted to bring Bob.

Who is Bob you ask?

It's replacement fishy.

So, in anticipation of the big presentation (thank God) I washed his fishy bowl last night.  And left the water level low knowing that we'd be traveling together.

Apparently I didn't leave the water level low enough.

All I did was pull out of our driveway and into our neighbor's who is AWESOME about letting my kids hang out many mornings a week to catch the school bus so I can make it to pre-school on time.

This is what happened.

I wish you could see what I could feel on the back side.

Yuck.

Fishy water all over my crotch and butt.

Ugh.

But it was Charlie's big day and no need to waste time changing into pants that would likely get wet again anyway, on we went- after dumping out a significant amount of water.

It was worth it.

Charlie loves Bob so much, we even get to include him in nighttime prayers.

And he loved getting to show off his beautiful Bob.

The fishy water dried relatively quickly (and I was wearing a longish rain jacket so it covered up my wet crotch).

Sweet little special helper.

He may punch his big brother in the eye for kicking him in the wiener, but a co-worker of Mark's whose daughter is in Charlie's class, witnessed a super generous act by this little Charlie Bear.  At school the kids who wear some sort of pins get to play at a special table.  There was a run on the pins, and Charlie got one.  But he saw this little girl who didn't get one and really wanted to play at that table.  Without anyone saying anything to him, he took off his pin and offered it to her.

Who says chivalry is dead?

Love that little boy.

Damn Laundry

What ever you do, DON'T turn your back on the laundry monster.

It'll get you.

This is the culmination of regular laundry and all the camping laundry I'd been putting off.

Not pretty, is it?

Plus there's a load in the dryer, a load in the washer, and one waiting to go into the washer.

2 pairs of pants, sweatshirts, t-shirts, socks, undies and pjs is looking mighty appealing at this point in time.

The good news is it's daylight when I'm tacking this massive undertaking, so there's hope I'll have a decent evening.

If I can just keep the two little ones from hitting and scratching it'll work.

I would much rather be having lunch at a friend's today, as planned.

And if you were wondering, this is what's for dinner.  Cooking with Trader Joe's Taco Soup.

It won't make up for missing my friend's always yummy soup but maybe it'll be something the whole family will eat.

A girl can dream, can't she?

I live a charmed life, I live a charmed life, I live a charmed life...

I know it do.

But I also need to vent.  

Again.

This post is a bit like the last.

Last night Elsa was up yelling every hour on the hour (actually it was night two of every hour hollers, but who's counting?)

I slept with her as much as I could in the night to help her feel safe.

This is the way the day has gone, working off not enough sleep.

The puppy peed in her crate this morning.

The price we paid for tucking her in early and sleeping in.

So, up to puppy pee,

plus grumpy girl with an owie throat,

kids off to school (just 15 minutes late for pre-school- not bad considering)

silver bullet BACK to the autobody shop to tighten up a few things

back to cruising in the awesome red swagger wagon- which, to be honest is growing on me-

having a designated place for my purse really is nice.

Funny how they design cars for women versus men.

Also, the seat of the swagger wagon is more fitted for me, the suburban more for Mark.

Then errands, errands, and more errands (including swim suit shopping- which hasn't been fun since I was size 0 in high school) all before Elsa's 12:15 Dr. apt.

Wait in the waiting room for 45 minutes.

In the exam room with our Dr. (who is worth waiting 45 minutes for) when the call comes from the Griffin school nurse.  

Carl has an upset tummy.

Yay!

My scenario: puppy left at my mom's house, Charlie at a playdate at a buddy's house in Tumwater, Elsa waiting for the strep throat test results- a prescription certain to come, Mark on shift.  How the heck do I gather the gaggle of creatures back together?!

Find out Elsa has hand foot and mouth disease, yuck.  

That's why her mouth hurts, because the poor little girl has blisters on the back of her throat.

The good news- her fever is over so she's on the mend and won't be contagious tomorrow.  (Bad news is we exposed all our buddies over the weekend).

Then, as I pull in to Top Foods I get the call that Carl went back to class.

Phew.

I wonder if his upset tummy had anything to do with the girl who wants to play with him but who he doesn't want to play with.

There was a frantic little stretch of time trying to figure how the heck I would gather all my little ducklings.

But it all worked out.

And I have some narcotics to help little miss sleep through the night.

My fingers are crossed it's going to be a peaceful evening/night of tip toeing into bedrooms trying to quietly put 4 laundry baskets full of laundry away.  

I wish it was going to be sitting parked on the couch watching something deliciously mindless...

Soon, I'll be twiddling my thumbs for six whole days in Palm Desert thanks to an amazing teamwork of friends and family.

Eye on the prize, even if it means feeling like the worst parent in the world for missing my daughter's stage debut, and nightmarish re-entry into real world.  It will be nice to have a meal and conversation uninterrupted but demands for one thing or another.

But I know when I'm gone I'll miss all those demands, 

just a little.

You know what the kicker was tonight?

I raced to get the little kids in the tub and pjs before picking Sarina up from her friend's house after play practice.

And guess what was floating in the tub?

Yup.

A nice blob of poo.

There was a time when I'd freak out about that.

Snatch them out of the tub.

Scrub them from head to toe with the hottest water I could get away with.

Scrub the tub top to bottom multiple times with bleach.

I'm immune now.

Just a spray down with bleach cleaner.

Regular washing of the kids.

And they're good to go.

It was a nice finale, wasn't it?

Now, back to Palm Desert.  When we do go, here's a couple of the little mugs I'll be missing (they look clean, don't they?  hee hee):

Charlie's First T-Ball Game

The tower BEFORE Miss Elsa bumped the table in her eagerness to get a photo with the AWESOME tower too.

Easter Kisses 2012

Just Another Crazy Day

Note to the reader: I know I've said it before, but I'm going to say it again.  I'm truly using this blog to document the crazy days for future reference when my little gaggle of children are older and mild mannered and wonder what it was like for me raising this crowd.  As it is, I vaguely remember the days of just toddlers.

Now, for today's adventure...

So, I think I'm sooo on top of things this morning.

I wake up with Mark, before all the kids wake up (which is EXTREMELY rare).

I was able to unload the dishwasher (which didn't get done the night before -as I try to do- because of the busy evening last night, after which Miss Elsa fell asleep on the couch and I had to zip her to bed ASAP, which meant the dishwasher didn't get loaded and run before bedtime routines, which set me back hours...)

So, this morning- I unloaded the dishwasher, made lunches, took my shower and then the kids started waking up.

Great.

Still on top of it all.

Feeling good.

Then Sarina, Elsa, and Carl all wanted to bathe themselves before school.

Fine.

The morning was fresh, there was time.

But, the time eroded and before I knew it we were behind on the schedule.

Surprise?  I don't think so.

Then it's the typical morning frantic, "Coat on!  Shoes on!  In the car!"  While I rounded up the puppy, her food, the bag of skinny jeans for a friend's 4 year old, the picnic lunch I packed envisioning a lunch at the park while the kids played, baseball jerseys to dole out at practice this afternoon, baseball equipment for practice etc, etc, etc.

Apparently (while all that rounding up was being done) there was a brawl over the backseat- prime seat next to the dog crate.

I don't know what happened first but the gist of it is that Carl kicked Charlie in the wiener who then flew back into the metal dog crate and was howling at the top of his lungs.

Charlie punched Carl in the left eye which cut it on the eye bone both above and below his eye.

Carl was doing the silent sob.

Awesome.

I rush back inside, crush up some ice for poor buddy.

Finish making morning ovaltine and load them all in the car.

Again.

Moderately smooth morning.

Breakfast for a fun friend's birthday (and put up a school play poster), off to pick up my errand companion then buy the birthday gift I forgot to buy before fun friend's birthday, Costco for the dog food I forgot earlier in the week, pick up special shampoo order, drop mom off at her house, buy COFFEE to replenish house stock and have school play poster posted in Starbucks.

Home and thinking I'll work in the yard on this beautiful afternoon and plant the 3 azaleas I've been dreaming of buying to plant in my yard, that my sweet mom just bought for me.

First the call that the silver bullet is FINALLY repaired, of course that's after I gave up and filled the rental 1/2 way thinking I'd get to cruise in the swagger wagon all weekend.  It's only been in the repair shop for the past SEVEN weeks!!!

Ouch, picking up the silver bullet squeezes my time outside, but it's not too bad.

Then I see Elsa dart around the house to the unlocked back door

clutching her bum.

Guess who waited a little too long to go poop on the potty...

Then the puppy is chewing something.

I check and it's a stiff rodent.

Glancing at my garden gloved hands, I take a deep breath and decide try to wrestle it away  (that is HUGE for this germiphobe)

but sweet little cow-pie-gobbler-Ollie swallows it

whole.

I want to gag but I look up.

Elsa comes back outside completely naked,

poop on her bum

and hands,

lord knows what she's touched on the way out of the house...

Ugh.

Then it's try to grab Carl and his buddy off the school bus and into the car so we can get to the auto body shop in time to pick up the silver bullet in time to make it to practice on time (since we have the gear.)

Mid-route we see that there just isn't time.  Even if I could fly through the air like a bird in my awesome swagger wagon (hear the sarcasm?).  I wouldn't make it.

So, at least we're at practice early.

The bummer is that I get to break it to one of the parents that her kid's uniform isn't there.  And won't be in time for the first game.

I hate to pass on my bad juju.

But I do have sweet and wonderful babies (even if they kick wieners, punch eyes, yell "fat poopy head" and lock each other out bedrooms).

And it was a beautiful, beautiful day.

The show capped mountains were out.

It's a life that is full to exploding with excitement at every turn.

Literally.

I'm a lucky mama.

My big girl is about to make her debut on stage- which I'm going to MISS!!!:(  But she's doing such a great job putting her energy into her role, practicing her lines and music.  It's going to be wonderful.  And I can watch it over and over and over again (on DVD).

And it's baseball season again.

First games are tomorrow.

It's a blessed, messy, wonderful life.

Smells Yummy

I love my hometown.

It's wonderfully diverse,

with a fun quirkiness thrown about here and there.

Today I was coming into town with the kids.  

We were stopped at a red light.

Charlie pipes up, "Something smells good."

Carl backs him up with, "I smell hamburgers."

They both said it smelled yummy.

In front of me is a rather nasty looking VW Jetta with big signs on the sides and back that say, "Biodiesel."

We caught this photo of it as it sped away:

There were 3 hippie looking guys cruising around in that beauty (the one with dreadlocks hopped out at the stoplight).

Funny thing is, yesterday I ran into Island Market to buy some Mega Millions tickets (heck yeah I did- it was up to $640 Million!!!- too bad we didn't win...)  

Anyway, after buying my tickets I went back to the car and thought I smelled french fries.  

Then I noticed this same car with a big "Biodiesel" plastered to the door.

And yes, it did make me hungry smelling it.

Odd.

I love it.

And I love Olympia.

"Mom's Better"

I can't tell if he's an Eddie Haskell in the making

or truly that awesome.

Today Carl was pointing out a picture on the yahoo.com homepage to his brother.

It was Kim Kardashian with a whole lotta cleavage.

this is the picture

He was giggling about boobs.

Then my little Carl said, "Mom's better."

A+ little boy.

You made your mama feel like a million bucks.

Well played.

Group Fitness Classes

Just a word, venting style.

Hey- Grumpy Lady In Spin Class Today:

I don't think that if you're seeking solitude, a group fitness class is the way to go.

So sorry I crowded you and took the opportunity to chat with my friends today in class.

I could tell it bugged you by the absolute lack of facial muscle movement when I apologized for wedging myself in there (there really WAS enough room for me...).  Then you promptly got up and moved a few feet away.

It was also clear that you didn't want to hear us chat by the obnoxious "SSSSHHHHHH!" you shouted midway through class.

I'm sure that you have your own issues in life.

And things that bring you joy.

Perhaps it's sitting anonymously in spin class, I don't know.

If that's so then go to the back of the class, not next to a row of bikes all set up together in the front of class.

One thing that brings me joy is going to spin class- where I can connect with girlfriends for a brief period of time without little people pulling on me every 2 seconds with a fresh request or way that I can meet their needs.

This oasis in spin class is my chance to say whatever the heck comes into my head while sweating to bad music and enjoying a much needed opportunity to sit at a friend's side.

So, I'm sorry that I bothered you but I'm not going to let you steal my joy.

-me

Another Chance to Make Myself Look Like a Crazy Person

Holy Moly.

This seems to be the week to knock me down a couple of rungs on the ladder.

When I was finishing up graduate school I had a fantastic opportunity to work on the Union Station renovation in downtown Seattle.

They really worked to make-up something for me to do on it, so the construction company hired me to monitor the subcontractors who did the true restoration work.

It was amazing to watch the transformation of that building.  I'm still proud that I had an itty-bitty role in that project.

Photo by Lara Swimmer

I love this photo from that project.  It was a wedding gift from my friend Lara Swimmer, a fantastic international photographer and one of the wonderful people I met while associated with the construction company.  

And yup, that's ME in the bottom corner.  

Wearing my hard hat.  

I used to climb that scaffolding and watch the artists apply the gold leaf details.

Somehow, for reasons I still don't fathom...

The contractor kept me on and asked me to be a project engineer on another construction job, and promised to train me.

Keep in mind I was an art major with a masters degree in historic preservation, I did NOT know new construction or have an inkling how to be a project engineer.

Somehow I found myself working on a $14 Million construction project (and other larger ones).  I was doing budgeting excel spreadsheets, writing Requests for Information (RFIs), Change Orders (COs) and providing submittals to the building owners.  It was all so beyond my reasoning and hard for me.

But- I worked with some really really great people.

And they kept promoting me...?

So I stayed for a couple of years.

One of the really really great people was the project superintendent.  I loved that man.  He reminded me of Santa Claus and he was always nice, even when I looked like a complete idiot and his blood was boiling over one thing or another that was going wrong on the jobsite.

I left that company over 10 years ago.  They've since been absorbed into another big, international construction company.

Then, last Friday, I zipped through Costco trying to be speedy so that I had time to run home, unload and put away groceries, and pack a lunch- in time to pick up the kids from pre-school and take them to the newly re-done Percival Park.

I'd just parked my cart at the check-out counter when I saw a man wearing the always recognizable Baugh Construction coat walking away from me.

(this is a picture of one the superintendent gave to me-the one he was wearing was a little more up-to-date)

I was so darn excited to see that man that I scrambled, grabbing Elsa, and raced after him calling his name until he turned around.

I completely left my cart abandoned, with my purse in it, at the check out.

When I caught up to him, he just looked at me stoically, not nearly as excited to see me as I was to see him.

But he humored me.

Let me meet his wife.

Said hello to Elsa.

Then the bagger guy came up and said they were ready for me to pay.

There wasn't an ounce of cool in my approach or talk with that man, or even my good bye.

But in true Superintendent Lantz style- he was calm and polite.

It almost made me miss the days of working with him.  The excitement of something big happening every day.

I was with him on the day of the Nisqually earthquake.  We had ironworkers erecting structural steel for the Boeing Wind Tunnel.  I'll never forget the look of panic on his face as he raced out to check on his men.  Or the relief when they were all accounted for and ok (even though those same iron workers were often the reason for his boiled blood).

I hope his heart has steadied now that he's retired.  That he can do all the things he enjoys.

Truthfully, I was really, really disappointed he wasn't wearing an airbrushed wolf t-shirt or big fancy wolf head rings.

It's so fun to run into someone you never thought you'd ever see again.

Even if you look like a complete a*# in the process.

Oops I Did It Again

I thought I was doing pretty well.

Not to be a big fat bragger, 

but I'm within 5 lbs of my high school graduation weight.

Which I do feel is respectable considering I've had 4 children.

(Not that everything when back to the way it was...)

That was, 

until yesterday.

Look for yourself...

I sat.

It crashed.

And that's not the first time this happened to me.

The other side of swing broke on me a couple of years ago (remember Jay?  I was talking to you when it happened...)

This time I'd just dished up a bowl of my friend Robin's yummy spicy Thai noodle salad (you can see evidence of it laying on the porch amid the scattering of rope threads).

I was feeling a little guilty to be eating noodle salad instead of a green salad.

Think someone was trying to tell me something?

Mark did say it was awesome and he was so glad he was there to see my face.

So not cool.

Looks like the 8 miles I ran on Saturday wasn't nearly enough.

Here's that recipe (again) for those who want the break-your-porch-swing-salad recipe.:)

adversity

It's not something you'd wish on anyone.

Especially when it affects kids and family.

We all seem to handle it differently.

Some of us hold it in and hide it.

Others let it consume them.

Yet others let themselves be an open book inviting everyone who cares to share in their experience.

I admire that strength and courage.

I doubt any of us could anticipate what we would want while facing adversity we don't want to imagine- yet when someone you care about is going through it, that's what you have to do.

Try and put yourself in their shoes and imagine what you would want others to do for you.

Then do it for them.

One thing I've learned is how much it means to hear someone express their genuine concern and well wishes for you.

It makes me realize how very important a community is for us all.

Life can be fantastic, filled with all kinds of amazing things, if you let it.

There are times too when it just isn't all that fantastic and you need that community to lighten your load, lift you back to your feet and wrap their arms around you until you gain your strength back.

I've been fortunate to witness incredible acts of generosity during times of adversity.

And I always find it inspirational.

It pushes me to look beyond myself and try to see the needs of others.

To wonder how I might lighten some one's load,

lift them to their feet,

wrap my arms around them until they can absorb some strength to stand on their own again.

From a simple home cooked meal to a bright bunch of flowers.  From acquaintances becoming friends when they come in and fold your laundry, scrub your floors, play with your children so your mind can wander, just for a little while before reality comes back.

Watching that unspoken affection for others makes me proud to live where I live and know the people I know.

There are good people here in my town.

I hope that everyone facing adversity has that community, can find those who shore up their souls, and warm their hearts again.

Life is fragile yet fantastic.

And I try not to take it for granted, each and every day is a blessing for which I'm thankful no matter how much I might grumble from time to time.

Making a Spectacle of Myself

You ever have days when you're zipping along, trying to keep up with the day and find yourself in a position you didn't see coming?

Well, last week I had one of those days.

I was pretty proud of myself for making everything work...

Pre-school drop off and pick up, morning at the gym, lunch with friends while kids played, picking up kids (by the hair of my chinney chin chin) from the bus on early release day, then back to school to watch a friend's 7th grade basketball game.

As we exited the basketball game, I was racing to keep up with 3 little runners-in-the-school-hallway while hanging up my cell phone with Mark when...

Wooooops...

Down I went.

Not just a little stumble or slip.

My move-

was arms flailing,

full body pitching forward,

landing on my hands and knees,

plop.

In the middle of my kids' school hallway,

with no one in sight that I could giggle with about it.

Of course I popped back up, shook myself off and continued racing down the hallway to catch those darn runners before they ran right into the parking lot full of distracted drivers.

It truly wasn't pretty.

I'm used to making a spectacle wherever I go.

But usually that spectacle is created by my herd of children (or me nipping at their heels trying to coral them).

This spectacle was completely my own.

Ouch.

Ouch on the ego as well as the knees.

Some days you have to live a little low on the grace level.

Girly Girl?

If I hadn't witnessed it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it.

This morning Elsa wanted to take a shower with Sarina, that's pretty normal.

The price, according to Sarina, was that Elsa had to be willing to wear whatever Sarina picked out for her and let Sarina do her hair.

Apparently, Elsa REALLY wanted to hop in that shower with her big sister because she agreed to it.

The amazing thing is, not only did she let Sarina dress her in pink from head to toe

but when Sarina left the make-over make-up out in the playroom

someone, of her own accord, got into the make-up and did her own make-over.

See for yourself.

It's true!

This is what I saw from the kitchen, and it drew me in...

From the side, I could see what she was digging in to...

And now for the application, with her own hands!

I'm so happy I could sing from the mountain tops.

Of course, her next outfit just a couple hours later wasn't nearly so cute: blue track pants, spiderman swim trunks pulled over the pants, and a spiderman t-shirt.

But for a brief and shining moment, I had a little girl dressed in pink again.

If that's what it takes, I'll leave out a little blush and eye shadow every now and then.

And did you notice her big brother armed in the background.  So glad he's working on his shot.  He might need it one day.

That same big brother, the other day was walking around with his blanket his nonna made for him, rubbing against his lips (his version of sucking his thumb but shhhh don't tell anyone).  He announced to me, I kid you not- blankie slung over his shoulder ready to rub- that his hands were becoming "man hands" and he showed me how thick the palms of his hands are getting.  Sweet sweet boy.

Other big news, big brother number two started his first t-ball practice.  It's going to be such an exciting year of baseball for him.  He'll be playing with all his buddies from pre-school.  It's a dream team and Mark gets to coach it.  He's so excited about baseball that he told me on Friday that he wants to coach baseball when he grows up.

And big sister had her 10th birthday slumber party (just a month late).  I took the girls ice skating and they were awesome on the ice.  So cute and full of concentration, even while boy watching...  Yikes!  Boy crazy already?!

In all honesty, I was paranoid about having 5 young girls ice skating from 7:45- 9:45pm in Parkland.  So I bought bright fabric, cut into strips to make matching scarves for the girls- so I could easily find and count heads.  But it wasn't bad.  The kids out there were just young kids out on a Friday night.  Nothing too rowdy or crazy.

That's about it for the updates.

Perils of technology and unsupervised children

I think that too much of something can be a bad thing.

Like technology.

Case in point...

Tonight I was upstairs putting a sick little 3 year old in bed.

The rest of the motley crew was roaring it up downstairs.

I was moderately annoyed that they were being so noisy while I was trying to put the "baby" to bed.

Little did I know what was really going down without supervision...

Child number three was sitting proudly on a stool

completely naked.

Ok, not a huge deal, it happens often enough.

The kicker is that his big sister was on skype with her friend.

Holy moly. 

Totally inappropriate.

Poor kids running wild without someone present to keep them from doing something they might regret down the road.

Like when he's in school with said sister's friend and she says, "I remember when I saw you naked on skype."

I wonder if one day he'll have that dream that he's in the middle of school without a stitch of clothes on.

Who knows, he may be a proud nudist.

But jeez, I really hope that was the only naked-on-skype incident I EVER have to deal with.

Please oh please oh please oh please.

In his defense he was instantly sorry he disappointed me, but I think he enjoyed the attention while he had it...

A Ray of Sunshine

Do you ever have that feeling when you're somewhere,

surrounded by people,

but feel alone?

I'm weird like that, I guess.

But today I had that feeling.

Which is fine.

Sometimes it's nice to feel anonymous.

Then in walked a friend and I felt a real smile on my face.

Like when you walk from a cool shadow into a warm pool of sunshine.

It brightened my day and warmed me right up.

Sometimes it's the little things that lift your spirit.

And it happened not once but twice.

Sweet friends are tough to come by.

Sweet friends that stick around year after year are even better.

I'm so glad I got to bask in their sunshine, even if it was just for a brief period of time.

Newest Addition

Maybe it's that we missed bringing home a new baby every two years.

We're a little overdue for a new one to add to the fold.

(You can't count the chickens or fish here.)

So, it was destiny (right?) when Mark was leaving Cabella's and a girl was sitting there with an almost 9 week old black lab puppy.

And had a trunk over flowing with little lab puppies all wiggling and squirming for attention.

Mark was trying to be strong.

He told the girl that if she still had the runt at the end of the day to give him a call.

It must have been destiny that she still had the runt that night.

And the next day.

So, we decided that if the parents were good dogs we'd really consider it.

I think it was a done deal in Mark's head.

It was pretty close to a done deal in mine too.

Both parents were good looking, mild mannered labs.

We were smitten.

And so we brought home our newest baby.

Miss Olive U. Schreck.

But don't call her Olive in front of Carl, he doesn't like olives but he loves Miss Ollie.

Here she is sharing a bone with her sister Lucy (who now lives with Elsa's best friend Henry).

One trick with bringing home Ollie was that we had to give up our trip to Mark's parent's cabin in Mazama.  It was tough to weigh bringing home a puppy with a promise to play in the snow at Nonna and Grandpa's cabin.  So, we compromised by taking the kids to the Great Wolf Lodge for a night.

While I had Charlie and Elsa in the bathtub after their first day in the indoor water park I was a little worried about making the single tiny tube of kid wash last for all 4 kids.

Don't ask me why, for some silly reason Mark really didn't think we should request more...

I turned around and saw them happily squirting all the soap in the water.

My reflex reaction, "DON'T WASTE THAT SOAP!"

I stepped out of the bathroom to put it back on the counter away from the tub

and heard Little Miss Big Pants Elsa Jane, "Jeeze Louise, she's cranky!"

Huh.  Totally put in place by my three year old.

She was right.  Who cares about a silly little tube of soap?

It was vacation.

She offered a good reminder to lighten up.  Jeeze Louise.

I can still hear her little voice perfectly enunciating, "Jeeze Louise! She's craaannnnkkkyyy!"

And giggling.

I had to giggle too.

I love those little buggers, all of them- two footed and four footed ones.

I think we need to figure out a sign to post on the barn: "Welcome to Crazytown.  Population 8.1- 6 human, 2 canine, 1 fish" and likely leave room to add to it for the future chickens, cows and whatever else moves into our crazytown.  It might have to be in chalk.

Getting Older

I know from the day you're born 'til the day you die you're getting older.

With babies it's adorable.

With toddlers it's rapid.

With adolescents it's awkward.

For teenagers it's not fast enough.

For 20 somethings it's a little too fast.

For 30 something it's ridiculously fast and a little painful.

I've yet to experience the beyond 30s, but my guess is that you stop counting the years even more than you do in your 30s.

I took a big bite of humble pie yesterday.

A fellow mom at pre-school pick up asked me if I might have been one of her little sister's elementary school teachers.

OUCH!

I'm examining the dark circles around my eyes (Jewish heritage or lack of sleep- I'm not certain the cause and have no idea how to remedy it) the fine wrinkles all around my face, and the couple handfuls of grey hairs sprouting around my head.

I guess I could see how she might possibly think I was that old.

But it sure is painful.

I know, at some point you're no longer the youngest.

And to those youngest, I must look middle aged.

Blah.

Blah blah blah.

I feel like Toad in Frog and Toad.

But getting older is a little liberating.

A little over a week ago I celebrated a sweet friend's birthday by going to the Olympus Spa for some delicious Korean food (including this), hot rooms, pool soaks and the most luxurious treatment I've ever had... a body scrub.

It was absolutely delightful.

As a teenager and 20 something I wouldn't have hesitated to strip naked and strut around in front of other people.

Now in my (gasp) later 30s I'm getting back to ok with the idea of being naked in front of others.

No, I'm not as sleek and firm as I was before babies.  My belly still looks like a deflated ball after growing 4 wonderful little humans in it for a total of  36 months (or 40 however you count that).

My backside looks like a road map with all the stretch marks from over indulging for those same 36 months.

And I just might fit in with the National Geographic bare chested women (thank God for supportive brassieres).

But it's also a record of how far I've come as a person.

And now my skin is baby smooth.  I want to go quarterly so I can keep myself pet-ably soft forever.

I may not be the youngest, but I'm still relatively young and I'm going to enjoy each age that I'm allowed to zip through.

And I am going to splurge every now and then so that I can let a stranger scrub the dead skin off 99.99% of my body. 

Sounds crazy. 

Sounds weird. 

Sounds uncomfortable. 

But it was absolutely delightful.

I highly recommend it!

Now, who wants to join me next time?

Who Would Have Kids Like That?

I used to wonder random things. 

Like who would allow their children to write on walls or doors?!  What the heck were those parents doing when those kids were armed with writing devices?

Can you hear me sighing?

Now I know.

Those parents are distracted by the mountains of papers brought home by the school age kids.  The incessant demands for snacks for people of all sizes.  The need to prepare breakfast, lunch, and dinner.  Attempts to keep up on the washing, folding, and putting away of laundry.  Transporting people of all ages to all the places they need to go.  Trying to work, just a little.  And maybe even a few guilty vacant stares wondering if 6pm is too early for bedtime on particularly challenging days.

I know this because I have a little tagger.

There's really no question who it is.

The markings are all at her level and are very emphatic little jabs of color. 

Much like the artist herself.

I should buy stock in Mr. Clean Magic Erase.  Hmmm maybe pinterest.com has a way to make it yourself.  I bet it's on there...

Another thing I used to wonder, even when I was in a few kids deep...

Who could possibly leave a floater in the toilet without a shred of paper?!

Not only is it disgusting to drop that kid in the pool and walk away (!) but the thought that there was no clean-up involved was revolting to me.

Now it's a normal, every day occurrence.

I'm not sure if those little droppers have some sort of sensor for the clean drop and one that needs a little paperwork to accompany it or not. 

I've really only found one rather soiled pair of undies. 

So they must have some innate sense of knowing.

I don't know.

But now, in our house, it's normal. 

And I'm over it. 

I just flush and move on without giving it a second thought. 

Ok maybe a little wonderment is there still...

I wonder what else will fail to surprise me or gross me out when this parenting adventure slows down a bit...

And you want to see a close call?

As I was literally racing around the house (it must have been my 4th dash upstairs in 5 minutes) trying to get the big kids on the bus and the little ones ready to hit the gym with me when I started down the stairs and noticed that the lamp was on in the boys' room.  I was tempted (I'll admit) to leave it on and run but I went back in to turn it off to save power while we were gone.

Guess what I found?!

I know, you never know now that I've filled your head with floaters and graffiti...

Yikes!

Here's a close up

I could smell it smoking.

Oh the "what ifs"!

That was a close one.

And in closing.  Guess who finally, after a whole week of crazy-snowy-icy-power-outages, got his replacement fishy?

Here's Charlie after kissing his fishy "Reddy soft tail" good night.  Our own little St. Francis of Assisi.

My fingers are crossed that power stays on tonight.  The wind is blowing so hard that it's knocking the porch swings into the house and the lights are flickering.

Lord, I love my children more than anything in the world but I have a massage appointment tomorrow and there is no wiggle room in my schedule for late start!  A massage is well earned after the past week of snow days and craziness!

Sad Boy Saying Good Bye to Fishy

For Christmas Charlie, my animal lover, got a kit that grows some pre-historic fish before your eyes.

He was so VERY excited to have his own pet.

He hounded Mark to set it up ASAP.

Then we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

After about 3 weeks I was done waiting and took him to pick out his very own fishy.

He selected a beautiful black half-moon beta (the most expensive darn beta fish they had at Petco), but I couldn't deny him.  He had waited so patiently for those rotten pre-historic eggs to turn into fishes.

He was on cloud nine for a good chunk of time after bringing fishy home.

He went through a few names- Fasty was the one that stuck in my mind but just this morning he called him Bob.  I don't know.  But he LOVED that fishy.

He was so cute zipping down the stairs straight to fishy to check him out each morning.

Except this morning, he was distracted by the snow.

Thank goodness.

Because when I checked on Fasty, he was pointing nose down and lifeless.

So, quickly- while Charlie was frolicking in the snow I called Petco to find out about their 30 day money back policy (it was the most expensive beta...)  The lovely lady informed me that I did need to bring little Fasty in as proof that he has departed this world.

Clueless about what to do with the little guy she suggested I put him in a ziploc baggie with a little water and pop him in the freezer until we could bring him in for an exchange.

So, I cleaned up all evidence of Fasty's existence before Charlie came in. 

After he came inside tt took a short while before he asked, "Where's my fishy?"

I knew the question was coming.

I took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

"Sweet boy, he went to Heaven." was all I could say.

That baby's face crumbled and he sobbed the most heartfelt sob a little boy could let out and it broke my heart, knowing how excited he was to have his very own pet.

After a few minutes of crying he asked, "It was his turn to go to Heaven?"

I nodded yes.

Then he wiped his eyes and ambled off to play.

I thought that was it.

But tonight he has been crying out like his leg is broken every 10 minutes.

I know his grief is real and raw enough that it's seeping into his little dreams.

I hope replacement Fasty is good enough to take his mind off of his loss.

And I'll be bracing myself for the day it's Hunter's turn to go to Heaven.

I'm tempted to bring him up a fresh cookie I just made.  S'mores cookies, I'd love to put a little sweetness in his mouth to ease the bitter taste that must be there.

Now it's time to run up and snuggle a little boy before his next sobbing session.

Ferber the second week

Miss Elsa has been sleeping in her bed all night long for over a week now.

Some nights she wakes up more than others.

Last night she stood proudly at my bedside at 1am.

"Hey guys!  I slept in my bed all night long," she announced proudly.

Umm, not really missy.

I put her back in bed to try to go until morning.

She came back at 2am.

Sorry little one, still not morning.

When she returned at 5:20am (for the second morning in a row...) I got up with her.

If I pulled her into bed with me, I know two things: 1) She'd fall back asleep until 7am (which would be dreamy) but 2) she'd start sneaking in earlier and earlier until we're right back where we started.

So, I'm pulling the 5am shifts again.  I remember doing it with Sarina then Carl when they were this age.  I have no recollection of Charlie doing this.

Eventually, she'll revert back to sleeping to a reasonable hour.

I hope.

Maybe.

My college roommate who consistently woke up at a ridiculously early hour (which was probably only 6:30am but felt ungodly back in the day) is now a doctor.  She's such a fantastic achiever that (hold on while I brag about my friend for a moment...) while attending medical school at a fantastic school she trained for and ran a full marathon, planted a vegetable garden that produced, and learned to knit then knit Sarina a baby sweater when she was born.

So, if I have to suffer through 5am mornings with my kids it'll be worth it if they're successful in life.

I'd rather sleep until a respectable 7am and not speak a word until I have at least a half a cup of coffee in me.

But that's just me...

And I'm certainly not a doctor.

I just stumbled across this article on linkedin.  The early riser bit has always been an assumption on my part, now I have proof.

School Assignment

So, I was going through Sarina's school folder and stumbled across this little beauty.

I have got to find out what the heck the assignment was that inspired this beautifully honest and colorful narrative.

Poor Charlie, he gets picked on a little too much for things he can't control.

Each little person has their own special flavor.

I think they'd each taste sweet with varying degrees of saltiness.

Love those little buggers.

Ferber Method Night #4

She woke up...

JUST ONE TIME

it was 1am.

I put her back in her bed.

She asked where I was going.

Then settled back to sleep.

Hallelujah.

I was able to get up at 6:15am and shower without worrying about a little magnet crying out because she lost the warm body she was snuggled up to.

She woke up with a big smile on her face.

I think she's as proud of herself as I am of both of us.

Thanks to the early rising, I was able to make fresh waffles for the kids for breakfast!

(Except that one just wanted cereal and another wanted eggs.  Can't please them all...)

But, yay for 2012, so far so good!

Ferber Method Night #3

My eyelids feel 3 feet thick and grainy.

It's gloomy weather outside.

And Elsa cried for over an hour from 1am to 2am last night.

I think I'm getting a sinus infection.

But baby girl was in her bed until 7am this morning (when she slipped into my bed and I was too tired to fight it).

I hope that's not a set-back.

We're close.

I know it.

Night #2 of the Ferber Method

Worked just like he claims.

She went to bed nicely.

She slept longer without waking.

When she did wake she fussed for just a few minutes.

She woke up around 1am saying she was hungry.  I gave her cold water (we know she likes it cold). 

She just whimpered in her bed for a short time then fell back asleep after a few minutes of calling for me.  I just "sh sh shhhh'd" her from the hallway and she fell back asleep.

The second waking was around 4am and was even easier.  Maybe because it was the second time I was awoken from a deep sleep and I was more out of it.

But I see light at the end of the tunnel.

A little predictability in our nighttime is in our very near future.

Amen.

Now, to unstick the little big one who's stuck to me like glue with more separation anxiety than ever.

But I'm working on that as well.

Future is bright.

Kids are healthy.

And we're moving along one day at a time.

First Night Ferber

Written last night, on my phone, while sitting in the hallway outside Elsa's bedroom:

Mommy

Mama

Come back here!

I'm scared

I'm cold

I want to tell you sumpting

I want cold water

I want to put my robe on

I want to 'nuggle you.

It's 10:55pm and she's whimpering like crazy girl.

Her ploys are good- from authoritative demands to sad, sad requests.

Can you come in my bedroom?

Are you in the laundry room? 

It started off great. 

She fell asleep like a charm, alone in her bedroom (with lots of pep talks and reassurance- of course).

Then 10:30, or so, just as I was drifting off... it starts. 

Hey mama. 

Mama? 

Mommy? 

Big hiccups. 

I know this works in the long run but I'm ready to skip forward a few days to the smoother sailing. 

Now, I'm second guessing myself.  Is this going to knock off all her little self confidence- because I don't rush to her when she sounds the saddest I've ever heard her? 

I remember doing the tough love with my firstborn at 5 or 6 months. 

It was absolute torture. 

She was just pulling herself to standing in her crib then would get stranded and cry a terrified cry.  She fought sleeping alone so hard, that she would fall asleep sitting up.  I remember sobbing along with her, my heart racing, feeling sheer torture. 

This time around I just feel sad. 

So sad for that beautiful little baby who isn't giving up without a fight. 

I'm here sweet girl. 

Listening to your every move,

your every breath,

your every ploy,

your every whimper.

I'm doing this for both of us.

Because I love you so much sweet pea.

Postscript: Today she's her normal, self-assured little self.  Funny how in the night you question yourself.  Fingers crossed tonight is less than the 2 hour long crying of last night...  But all in all it was not nearly as bad as it could have been.  She fell asleep uneventfully, on her own, then cried off and on from 10:30pm until midnight.  Then up two more times with only one crying session in there.  She slept until 7am.  Please let this work, please let this work, please let this work.

it's better to have a willful child than complacent one

It's better to have a willful child than a complacent one.

It's better to have a willful child than a complacent one.

It's better to have a willful child than a complacent one.

I know this is true. 

I believe it with every fiber of my being. 

I just can't help wishing from time to time that they might be a little bit less willful...

With a house full of willful souls somethings gotta give. 

And it's usually this people-pleasing mama.

I know it's my fault. 

I'm not consistent 

strong enough

or even half as willful as most.

At the end of the day most of the fight has left me.

Some days I feel more beat down about it than I should.

Today is one of those days.

Some days I feel pulled in so many different directions it's tough to grin and bear it.

But there is a positive that I'm going to try and dwell on.

My willful children are strong and self assertive. 

I pray for it every night- that my children will grow up to be, "strong and confident, kind and generous, able to achieve all their dreams."  I say those words for them to hear every night.

I know that trait will take them far in life,

even if it does give me dark circles,

baggy eyes,

and more grey hairs than i can now count.

I'm looking forward to consistently getting a good night sleep,

for the first time in the past 10 years.

Dr. Ferber is going to be my hero.

I just know it.

He's gotta be.

The date is set.

Little Miss is staying in her bed-

falling asleep by herself in her own bed

and staying put all night long.

Monday, January 2 is the dawn of a new era.

Perhaps, with a good night sleep the rest of the troubles will feel less overwhelming.

First things first, you know.

sleeping angel

why wouldn't i want to snuggle this little angel with her full little lips, curls, long eye lashes, and dimpled chin all night long?

oh yeah. 

because she flails her arms and kicks like she's training for the tai chi olympics. 

and coughs in my face-

all

night

long!

help me dr. ferber!

Olive Oyl

I've been terribly sporadic in my posting. 

Some days I'll post twice.

Sometimes I'll go long stretches until I post again.

It's kind of the story of my life. 

I'm really dedicated to something for a good stretch of time.  Then that attention will wax and wane- like the moon, but far less predictable.

One thing is certain, my attention to my family comes first.  Everything else is worked in around them.

I think that's how it's supposed to be.

Lately I'm feeling like Popeye's Olive Oyl.  Like I'm stretched between a little girl who is into my every bit of business and being allowed to stay up later since she's getting bigger, and a little girl who won't let me be in the wee hours of the night.  She's stuck to me like glue from about midnight until morning.  Then there are two little boys who are also in need of love, attention, and affection.

Now I get it when my mom says her big kids exhausted her mentally and the little ones exhausted her physically.

I think I can only stretch so far.

I'd made up my mind to "Ferberize" Elsa over Christmas break.

But then she got sick.

Not just a little sniffle, but take-her-to-the-(McCleary)ER-on-Christmas-Eve because her ears were causing so much pain.  She sounds like a 60 year old bar maid with her raspy voice and broken blood vessels in one eye.

So, as much as I'd like to be the tough guy (so I can sleep in any position I want during the night...) I'm waiting until she's healthy before I'm mean and make her stay in her bed all night long.

And, again with the laundry complaints, but last week laundry got way out of hand (big surprise).  Here's a little sampling of the clean laundry I folded and put away yesterday.

Plus another FIVE LOADS!  I think there's something to the whole keeping just 3 pairs of pants and 3 shirts for each kid.  Might make my life a whole lot easier.

This is what happens when I put my chores on the back burner.  It's not pretty.

But we had a nice holiday with family, even if Mark did have to work Christmas day- at least he was able to go in at 10:30am so he could have Christmas morning and Christmas Eve with all the excitement and anticipation, at home with us.

Even with all the trials and tribulations, I know I lead a charmed life.

I have 4 happy and healthy (for the most part) kids, a husband I adore, fantastic friends, and a great family.

There isn't much more I would wish for.

Now, I wonder if I'll post again before the New Year...

Santa 2011

Every year we've taken our kids to see Santa to get their pictures taken.

It's the only annual photos we get of the kids (aside from school pictures) so I look forward to watching the changes in the kids reflected on Santa's lap.

The first year we thought we'd take baby Sarina to Portland's Nordstrom's so we could do a little tax free shopping while she was young enough to not realize what we were doing.  We were assuming Portland's Nordstrom's had a real santa with real photos just like in Seattle. 

I was bitterly disappointed to be handed a polariod.

LAME!

Every year after that we've gone to downtown Seattle instead.

Now, our photos aren't postcard perfect by any means.

But they certainly give a snapshot into the kids lives at the time they were taken.

Poor little Sarina trying to hold it together while her baby brother melted down next to her on a strange man's lap.

Sweet Charlie with his crazy long hair and bed head, looking like a poor neglected 3rd child.

Elsa content surrounded by brothers and a big sister.

This year they added a super sized IPad where the kids could make it snow while they waited for Santa.

Here they are getting ready for the real photographer to take their photo.

And yes, Elsa's wearing a skirt!  She also wore one for her preschool's Christmas performance!

Here's a youtube video #1 and youtube video #2 of them telling Santa what they want for Christmas. 

I LOVE santa's response to Carl's request.

I also love that both Sarina and Carl play with Elsa's hair when they're nervous. 

And I love it more that she looks so annoyed about it.

Here they are when it's all said and done. 

Next stop, Red Mill!  Best burgers ever!

Kids Say the Darndest Things

This conversation was held at the breakfast bar this morning.

Charlie: "When you were a kid did you turn into a grown-up?"

Me: "Yup."

Charlie:  "Will Carl too?"

Me: "Yes, and you will too."

Carl: "Then a grandpa then an angel."

I think angels are always on his mind.

I wish I could listen into my kids thoughts.

I guess recording some of these random conversations will have to do.

You Get What You Pay For

Recently, I read a blog that I thought was so sweet it brought a little lump to my throat. 

The woman who wrote it is so creative and has such a lovely home.  It's one blog I read fairly often (because she is set up so that it emails notices when she posts and she often has nice downloadable documents and crafts I'm inspired to try from time to time).

It was funny timing. 

My husband went to Goodwill shortly after I read it to look for a goofy Christmas party ensemble.

We were chatting on the phone as he walked through the store (also looking for a white elephant gift) naming things as he passed.

When he said nativity set for $4 I said, "Buy it!" 

I'd been wanting one for a while but put it off knowing my kids would play with it and not be so gentle.  But heck, for $4 why not?

When he brought it home, I was excited to set it up.  And as we pulled each piece out of the box all carefully wrapped in bubble wrap and I wondered who would get rid of such a pretty porcelain, hand painted set. 

Until all the pieces were out and displayed and I surveyed the scene.

Hmmm...  Someone was missing.

An important player in the scene.

Darn it!  Baby Jesus is gone!

Now I need to find a substitute for the big guy.

I guess that you get what you pay for. 

Maybe for next year I should invest in a complete nativity set.

As Heard In the Back Seat

For the latest installment of: "As Heard in the Back Seat" I had to write it down at a stoplight on our way to the annual pre-school Christmas Program.

Crazy kids.

The biggest was with her nonna but the three littles were chatting it up, all in a row in the new silver bullet.  There's plenty of room for them to line up, side by side now.  Yay!

Say's Charlie to his big brother Carl, "Your chin has a belly button." 

He does have a cleft chin, which was WAY more noticeable when he was a chubby little baby.  And I've always worried about people saying he has a butt chin (don't let that give you any ideas...)

They both giggled over it.

Then, not to be out done, little miss Elsa chimed in,

"What if your face had a vagina."

Extra prayers were said when we were seated in the church.

On the plus side, little Miss Elsa wore a skirt and ruffled pink cardigan sweater tonight and didn't hide herself.

Vagina comment aside, tonight was a major victory in my book!

Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day

Even parents have days like that.

Yesterday was mine.

If there was any day I could use a do-over button, it would have been yesterday.

I suppose we all make mistakes.

And most of us (if we're realistic) feel like the worst parents on the face of the earth at some point during our parenthood.

That was me yesterday.

Thankfully, the day of disappointments ended.

It felt like it took an eternity and packed in some whopper mistakes.

But it's over and today was FAR better.

One foot in front of the other.

One step at a time.

Deep breaths.

The things I try to remind myself of when days feel impossible, overwhelming, and horrible.

It was a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day. 

Even here in Olympia.

Thank God it's behind me.