Oh What A Day

It started like all others.

Running just a little late.

Rushing to make lunches, shower, get everyone ready and out the door on time.

A whole lot of, "shoes on, in the car, buckle up!"s.

(Whole lot means more than the usual 10.)

All day school for the three biggest kids, pre-school for the littlest, dentist appointment for me, grocery store.

Typical, typical, typical.

Except, that when I pulled a container of chili out of the freezer for Mark's lunch I realized it wasn't quite all the way frozen.

Huh.

Later he called me to check on the freezer when I got home again to see if it was ok.

Fine.

I'm actually a little frightened of the freezer right now.

Mark just got a big buck a week ago and guess what's lurking inside my freezer.

Just guess.

That big buck's head in a garbage bag, with the rack sticking out above it.

Ew.

So, when I've been reaching in there I avert my eyes as best I can, hold my breath (I don't know why but I do), quickly reach in and grab out what I need then slam the door shut.

Like I'm afraid it's going to jump up and bite me or something.

Or else whisper, "hellllpppp meeeeeee" in a creepy soft voice.

Yeah I know, overly dramatic.

The point is, today I checked the freezer and found that the food was defrosting.

So, I had to reach back and play with the dial to see if it got bumped by big big rack as he struggled to break out of the freezer.  The dial is awfully close to those horns.

I think this calls for a discreet picture...

I was discreet.  I didn't include the part of the head I keep staring at through the garbage bag, as much as I keep trying to look away when I get in there.

Anyway, my chore was to clear out anything of value in the dying freezer to haul up to my in-law's freezer while they're out of town.

All while avoiding that sad nose inside the garbage bag.

Oops, I told you what I keep staring at.

I'll admit, I was patting myself on the back for handling that chore when I greeted the boys getting off the bus.

And guess what?!

Mom of the year forgot all about the Quality Work Assembly today for Carl.

He earned it for not one, but two assignments.

DAMN IT!

I was apologizing profusely as he kept listing all the parents who WERE there.

Salt in the wound little buddy.

As I'm still reeling from that terrible lapse, I look up at the clock.

4:02pm.

DAMN IT!

I was supposed to pick Sarina up from school at 4:00 after getting some extra math help from her teacher.

I arrive a mere 10 minutes late.

While I'm in the main hallway at school waiting for Sarina, I leave the rest of the brood out in the car.

And, as luck would have it, Miss Elsa rolled backward out the suburban door.

That's a good height for a little body to tumble out of.

Then back at home, feeling moderately confident I can pull the rest of the night off when I call the pediatrician's office to try and find a time to get Sarina in and her planter's wart looked at.

Oh happy day, they can get us in at 5:50pm.

So, race through dinner prep, order the little ones up to shower, ask grandma to keep the kids while I take Sarina in to get her foot worked on.

Fine.

Make it out the door with a good number of, "I said now!"s (in a mean threatening voice).

Pull up to grandma's.  Two little ones pop out of the car.

Carl refuses to get out.

I try to pull him out.

He won't go.

I threaten, beg, plead.

Nope.

He says, "It's because I love you too much mama."

Which makes the following even worse.

I'm stretched in the middle between a big girl scared the Dr. will have to dig out her wart and a little boy stuck like glue to me.

I pulled him out of the car, locked the doors and tried to drive off.

But I couldn't take it.

I caved and ordered him back in the car.

Which lead to WAILING (Sarina).

Then me screaming.

Truly.

At the top of my lungs.

It really is a great stress reliever.

We make it to the stop light when he says, fine take me to grandmas.

I u-turn and drop him off.

And as I pull away he's standing in the driveway, with his back to me, arms folded across his chest.

Poor buddy.

He went into her side yard and hid.

I think to compose himself so she didn't see his tears.

Triple DAMN IT.

The rest of the day was fine.

But to review the fails here: dead freezer, forgot quality work assembly, almost forgetting a child at school, smallest child tumbling out of parked car door, screaming at the kids multiple times in a single day (I really prefer to keep it to once a day), trying to drive off and leave my little boy crying in the driveway (because he just loves me too much).

I think that last one will haunt me for years.

DAMN IT!

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

Even here in Olympia.

Reincarnation

I'm not sure that I believe in reincarnation.

I do believe that when you miss someone who's made the big move to heaven, sometimes you seek to see characteristics of that person in the people that surround you.

For me, the people I watch most are my little people.

I've said before, that when my dad was battling colon cancer Sarina was my perfect distraction- chipper, happy, asking millions of questions, full of life.

I found that explaining things in a way that wouldn't scare her, helped me to feel less scared about what was happening.

And Carl was my sense of peace.

All I had to do was look into his soulful eyes that seemed all knowing, with his dimpled chin and ridiculously wonderful chubby cheeks and I felt good.

Regardless of what was going on around me, those two little bodies carried me along.

But my Charlie Watson never once got to meet his Grandpa Watson.

They must have hung out in heaven before Charlie was sent down to us.

Not only does Charlie Bear look uncannily like his grandpa,

he's drawn to many things that seem odd for a little boy- but make perfect sense knowing my dad.

Am I looking for the connection, or is it just so very undeniable?

Examples you want?

Well, a little while ago I pulled a box of things from my grandma (my dad's mom) and washed them up.  My house is filled with her handi-work- she was an amazing artist of all crafts from macrame to embroidery to quilting.  There was nothing she couldn't do and with an incredible eye for detail.

So, I washed up these place mats she'd embellished and had them drying over my claw foot tub in my bathroom.

Charlie came up to me with a look of wonder in his eyes holding out one place mat, asking where I had gotten that, like he'd found a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

I told him he could keep it

and he looked like he'd won the lottery.

His face just glowed as he walked away hugging that piece of cloth.

Shortly after Mark and I were hunting around for a wooden box that he'd promised Charlie.

The promise came after Charlie pined, repeatedly for a wooden box he's seen (and keeps returning to see) at the Olympia Farmer's Market.

We couldn't find Mark's box but I did re-discover an old carved wooden duck decoy that had been my dad's.

I knew Charlie was the perfect one to have it.

He's been toting that thing all over the place, like it's a stuffed teddy bear.

The kicker was last night.

I was marveling that he was so content roaming around, n@#$d {I tried to get rid of that word because some dirty bird googled that plus little boy-sick-o!!} as a jay bird, when I noticed that he'd piled up all of his favorite place mats from my grandma.

Painstakingly he laid each one in a ring around the edge of his bed, then climbed into the center and snuggled into a naked little ball.

I coaxed him into letting me take his picture, thankfully he pulled on clothes for the picture.

See the duck?

It was his idea to put it into the picture too.

I know my dad would love watching him.

Of course, my dad loved all kids and would love the unique individuality of each and every one of them.

But I think mostly, I wish I could watch him watch this little boy who seems to have so many funny characteristics his grandpa had.

Would he notice the similarity?

Would he identify with him?

Or would he just be another one of his sweet grand babies?

I know he can see him.

And sometimes,

when I want to see my dad,

I watch my Charlie marvel in a pretty bird,

spot some obscure object from a crazy long distance,

and delight in unique treasures that wouldn't turn most 6 year old boys' heads.

It's going to be fun watching who he grows into being.

I see so much potential for his special little soul.

A good smack

Oh the joys of parenting.

After a day spent seeing off the big game hunter for a few days, running errands to get a contractor's license secured for his big new venture, attempting to make the Honda-Car suitable for another to drive, replacing the already-lost-lunchbox of Mr. Big-Kindergartner, and trying to hunt down the perfect jacket for said Mr. Big-Kindergartner (that is the correct size), seeing the rain return, and trying to keep chipper for the kids while keeping everything in order and having family movie night (minus one very important family member)...

I would say, come evening time my nerves were a bit shot tonight.

I bribed the kids with movie (Charlie picked The Miracle and it was a good one) and popcorn if they bathed and got into their jammies.

It was after bath that the big smack-down came.

It was truly unintended.

Littlest Miss Sweet Pea was chirping rather loudly.

Ok- she was SCREAMING.

Just to make noise,

I wholeheartedly believe.

I calmly and pleasantly asked her not to do that again.

She screamed again,

in my face.

Maybe it's the hormones- alright it's totally partially PMS.

Anyway, I don't know when this became instinct, but without any real thought my hand whipped back and smacked her freshly bathed, still damp little bum.

On bare skin.

Poor poor baby.

I truly thought that the second largest beach towel we own she selected to wrap around her warm little body was covering said little bum.

But there was my handprint welt on that sweet little cheek to prove I connected.

And boy did she howl.

Rightfully so.

She was perfectly happy screaming.

Between sobs she informed me that {talking about spanking} that I needed to do, "little ones on little people."

My poor little sweet pea.

She's one of my very very favorite little people.

Sometimes I forget just how little she is and expect more out of her than maybe I should.

Next time I'll try to keep it "little on little people" even if they have a personality as big as Texas.

An Adventure in the Fall

Yesterday was a typical fall day in our house.

We had a football game to get our cheerleader to at 8:30am.

Then raced home.

Made a nutritious lunch of top ramen (blech!) and packed up daddy for his big cross country adventure in concrete.

Then divided up and carpooled with fantastic new neighbors who happen to have a cheerleader and football player that line up perfectly with our cheerleader and football player.

So we girls headed off to cheer game number two, with a little boy with a wiggly tooth in tow, dropped of the cheerleaders, then Mr. Wiggly-Tooth at a friend's house to hitch a ride to one of his best little buddy's birthday party.

Then back to watch the cute little girls cheer their hearts out on a sunny fall day.

Next we packed it up and zipped out to the middle of nowhere (aka Yelm) to watch the boys play football.

Then race back to Lacey to pick up the newly front toothless little boy from the birthday party.

Yep, he lost his tooth in the pool and couldn't find it.

But don't worry, he dictated a note to the tooth fairy explaining the circumstances.

Off to grandma's to a delicious steak dinner with aunty and cousins.

My kids never get steak, so they gobbled up that big old platter of meat in no time.  

Then asked for more "chicken" please.  

Poor kids, never get anything good.

I even heard my daughter say, "It's nice to not have noodles or pizza for dinner."

Ouch.

I need to put that crock pot to use more on these crazy football days.

I just have to find recipes the kids will like, and actually eat...

Mission impossible, I know.

After dinner I ran to the pharmacy to get ambien for that big cross country trip while daddy oversaw bath time.

Then loaded the kids up to take daddy to the airport, all fresh and clean in their pjs, watching Herbie movies on the way.

Charlie started the waterworks first.

Actually, Sarina had been turning them off and on all day leading up to the departure.

But Charlie really wailed, "don't go don't go, don't GO daddy!"  

Over and over- and over again.

It was a little like torture.

6 days is forever in their little minds.

By the time we got to the airport they were all crying.  

Charlie pouring his heart into his wailing, 

Carl sitting their quietly with tears streaming down his face, 

Sarina trying to hold it together alternating with wallowing in her sorrow, 

and Elsa just trying to keep up.

Quite a send off for a poor guy just trying to head out to learn from the best in the industry so that he can come home and grow a thriving business- for the family.

I know both mama and daddy had a lump in our throats too.

As I pulled away I was kind of wondering if someone told the kids that daddy was being deployed to war...

But truly, I'm so proud of my husband.

He's researched, and researched, and researched to find the best person to learn from.

Yes, he could do trial and error while he starts doing these concrete counter tops.

That's what he's done so far, but we both know that's not quick enough for us.

He wants to make sure that if people are paying him for a product, that he provides the best he can possibly provide.

I know he's going to do well.

He has that perfect combination of self confidence, pride in his work, and connections to make this successful.

I believe wholeheartedly in him.

Plus he has a fantastic support system and two jobs lined up for when he gets home with the promise of another.

We have a good life, there's no doubt how very blessed we are.

Snuggle Spot

For as long as I've snuggled my husband, it's always been his head on my chest.

We've watched many movies cuddled up like that.

With my babies, it's been the same.

Their sweet little heads on my chest.

Elsa recently named that spot.

The snuggle spot.

Our second grader has been the most prolific visitor to the snuggle spot, with his blankey.

He may have even logged as many hours there as his daddy.

He said he likes to listen to my heart.

I wonder if he hears it telling him how very full he makes that heart.

The other night (actually the night before I forgot what grade he is in),

he was snuggled in his snuggle spot (he uses that term now too)

and whispered in his sweet little boy voice,

"Mama, why does my heart feel funny when I snuggle you?"

Man I love that kid.

Of course I love them all.

It's that purity in their voices and clarity in their observations that makes my heart skip a beat and makes me catch my breath.

Every time.

Do You Pee Your Pants?

So, my friend has convinced me to consider taking a big step.

Like many mama's I hear about, I cross my legs to sneeze,

and when I suddenly cough,

oh and laugh really hard.

I put in a pad when I run (sorry brother TMI?).

I have visions of peeing myself in public- in a way I can't hide.

Not to mention, it would be nice to be dry when I'm done with a good run.

So, I'm considering the sling surgery.

The Dr. I visited described it as using a mesh that's been used in hernia surgeries for 30 (or was it 50) years.  It was tough to tell, she has a bit of an accent.

She said the mesh is like velcro and instantly supports what needs supporting in there so I don't accidentally piss my pants.

Like you would do that on purpose...

To do it or not.

The surgery (not peeing on purpose)-

that is the question.

If I died from complications, would I be considered vain for having the surgery- just so I wouldn't have that shame of peeing my pants when I laugh really really hard?

True story- that did happen, at a friend's surprise birthday party at the country club.

I was pregnant (with the child who I recently forgot what grade he was in) and it was tough to tie a sweater around my massive belly to hide my super wet pants.

Gross.

It's not like I'm having a boob job.

And I have always had a hard time holding it when I laugh really really hard.

But I'm seriously considering it.

And you bet your buns I'm nervous about it.

Um, Hold on... It's Right on The Tip of My Tongue

Do you ever get asked a question and completely blank on the answer?

Sure, I know things like- who was the 12th US president,

or what is the square root of pi- most people would blank out on those.

I'm talking simple questions,

like the name of someone you've known for 3 years and seen 4 times a week.

Or how about how much each of your children weighed at birth?

Even if it's the sweetest person in the world and there's no pressure.

Like today, at my daughter's quality work assembly and someone asked me what grade my second child was in.

Uh.

Uh.

Hold on.

Nope,

Nothing.

Nothing there.

Completely blank.

Couldn't even conjure up who his teacher was last year.

I did find the name of his teacher this year.

Phew, quick deductions and sweetie pie who asked the innocent question helped me to figure out my baby boy is in the SECOND grade.

Dear Lord I hope that one sticks.

I don't know if I could take a repeat performance.

It caused flashbacks to Still Alice.

Ugh.

Now, if I wander into your kitchen and dismantle it looking for my favorite tea cup- make an appointment for me.

Please.

Jeez.

Who can't figure out what grade her own kid is in?!

Only this crazy mama in the country.


Clearly I was wrong on Monday when the doctor I visited asked me about my stress level.

I actually considered saying low.

I was all the way up in Issaquah, cozy in a Russian/Swedish bubble after a peaceful drive all by myself.  I bumped it up to moderate when I reflected on my busy, hectic life.

Maybe I should revisit that answer.

Think it would make a difference on the Dr.'s conclusion that I'm a good candidate for the sling surgery to keep me from peeing my pants?

More on that next time.

School Bus Drama

Today I was alarmed to look up and see Carl sobbing as he walked down the driveway after getting off the school bus.

You know when they cry so hard they can't tell you what's wrong, so your mind races to the worst possible scenario?

Which, to him- it was.

I believe he thought he was going to die.

And for my kids I think that the concept isn't far fetched.

They can all recount the summer we lost our sweet little friend.

It has made them realize that kids can go to heaven too.

They know about mortality.

And it's such a tough thing to talk them through.

So, on the way home today- while on the school bus, Carl sat with a boy from his football team.

The kid was going on about pressure points and demonstrating on Carl.

He rubbed a muscle on Carl's back then stopped and said (according to Carl with a very serious look on his face),

"Oh I forgot, if I do that it means you'll die in 3 days."

Carl said he started crying on the bus.

He was that scared.

He believed it.

In his mind, the poor little boy thought he was dead man walking as he climbed down from the school bus.

I can only imagine what was going on in his head as he was trying to figure it all out. 

How it would happen.

He was terrified.

I assured him it was all b.s. (not saying that, of course) but that it would never happen.

I don't think he completely bought it,

because at bed time he asked again if I was sure he wasn't going to die.

I explained that when I get massages my friend Michelle rubs my back like that and I'm ok.

I know that the boy who pulled that trick didn't know Carl well enough to know what he's seen in his life, so far.

I know Carl's haunted by images of his parents sobbing without restraint in front of him.

And the kid has two teenage brothers who've likely scared the shit out of him time and time again so he's immune to that level of terror.

It's a life lesson.

But it's a tough one for both mama and sweet boy.

I hope I don't see any more babies sobbing their way off the school bus again anytime soon.

End of Summer and Back To School

We're now in week 3 since school started.

And yes, it's taken me this long to feel like myself again.

Finally, they're all occupied by something other than driving me NUTS!

It was a great summer.

And I'm incredibly grateful for Ken Lake.

We'd be home, the kids would fight and argue over something stupid.

It would escalate-

and feel like no one likes anyone in this house.

Then I'd pack everyone up and escape to the lake.

It was blissful.

They'd play together.

Encourage each other.

Work together.

And I could sit in the sunshine, drink my coffee, leaf through magazines and read books with pleasant children noises in the background.

Perfection.

There was a big mouth bass lurking under the dock that kept the boys occupied for many many hours.

I hope he's still around next summer too.

He brought all kinds of people together- big teenage boys, little boys, middle size boys, and more than one adult- all trying to figure out how to get him.

He'd pop out every now and then to let them know he was still there.

He'd delight the crowd by snatching one of the little fishes swimming nearby and eating it whole.

The kids also caught many little fishes, took them for rides down the slide, watched them swim in the ever present bucket.

I'll post pictures when I can use my email again.

They also ended the season by catching a poor little salamander. 

When they finally let the poor guy go, he was so confused he just kept swimming in circles.

I hope he straightened out eventually...

So this is a big year.

Three kids at Griffin and our final year of pre-school.

Big time.

This was Charlie's first day of Kindergarten, first day riding the school bus.

I like to think of this as the kid realizing summer's over.

Silly geese.

First day of second and fifth grade.

Big boy in Kindergarten.

This picture looks sweet, and that's what I was hoping for, but just before I took it Sarina said, "Mom I don't want to kiss her.  Her breath STINKS."  At least she whispered it.  Can you see her holding her breath while sweet baby sister is all in?

I'll admit, I had to take a sniff myself, and it was a bit sour.

I'll never forget feeling like the school bus was a big yellow monster gobbling up my baby the first time it stopped at our driveway.  And I feel that way each time one more hops on there.

He's still adjusting to a new school.

One without his buddies from pre-school.

He was so lucky to have so many boys he loved in his pre-school class.

Tonight he cried because he was telling me that when Peter's mom walks Peter into their classroom Peter cries and it makes Charlie miss me.

It broke my heart.

How do you tell him it's ok?

When he's used to being by my side more often than not?

That I'm always close by for a hug and kiss if something goes wrong or he needs a little comfort.

This is why we start with half time kindergarten. 

To ease into life away from home.

I told him that it sure sounded like Peter needed a friend, and I know that Charlie would be a great friend.  I suggested that he walk up to him and tell him it will be ok and that they can play together at recess to give him something to look forward to.

Now I just hope that Peter is as sweet as he sounds after pushing my kid toward him...

And let us not forget the last but not the least.

Far from the least.

She's all dolled up for her first day of school, wearing her big brother's baseball hat.

I'm a little sad that her best buddy isn't there this year, makes it feel a little less exciting to drop her off.  But I know it's good for her to branch out.

It's a new year, with old and new friends and I know it's going to be a great one.

For starters, I don't have to drive into town 5 days a week. 

Two years of that was enough.

I can't believe that this is our 9th pre-school class at Gloria Dei. 

They do grow up fast.

Head Above Water, Youth Football Season

Pssst...

Want to know yet another secret?

When I'm feeling overwhelmed, I don't blog.

As you can see, I've been overwhelmed lately.

That, plus my computer is on its last leg.

First it wouldn't let us use google (which includes blogger.com).

Now it won't let me into my email.

Do you know how hard it is to email essential professional documents without a computer?!

It's a little tough.

But I prevailed.

I got around the damn computer and it's bias against yahoo.com and used Mark's gmail account.

So take that temperamental techno monster!

Can't live with them, can't live without those darn computers.

Now, back to the overwhelming-ness of my life.

Do I complain too much?

Truly, just documenting the insanity.

We're knee deep into football season around here.

Sarina is cheering and Carl's playing for TCYFL (Thurston County Youth Football League).

Tackle football.

With pads.

And tackling.

And little boys playing quarterback.

(Yahoo!!  That's MY boy!)

It's actually an impressive organization with thousands of kids participating.

It started with three practices a week, all in full gear.

Now he's pared down to two practices a week from 5:30-7:30pm, but Sarina still has three.

Did you know I pride myself on having dinner on the table at 5:30pm sharp?

This football has sure thrown a wrench in that peaceful (ha!) family routine.

Really, the main reason for dinner at 5:30pm is so we can get the kids in bed on time...

Sarina is rocking the cheerleading.  I'm so proud of how quickly she's catching on and nailing her cheers and stunts.

She even gets to be the fly girl. 

So much pride.

It's a grueling schedule, two kids going to two different places at the same time on all but one evening a week.

Then Carl plays one game a Saturday while Sarina cheers for two games a Saturday.

And dragging around the little ones.

Then I try to walk (sometimes even run) the track during practice.

I would fall sleep in two seconds in the grass if I sat there for 2 straight hours watching.

But all the driving, and meal planning, and orchestrating is so very worth it when you see your baby boy throw a pass that ends in a touch down.

When they're all gathered in a huddle and you hear his voice calling the play.

SO MUCH PRIDE.

There's nothing like seeing your last name on the back of your child's jersey.

Then to look down and see your almost mini-me wearing a cardinal and gold cheer uniform, cute big white bow in her hair.

I'm so VERY VERY lucky!

It makes all the insanity swirling around us worthwhile.

I want to stop time and stare at my babies out there.

Growing up.

Doing things I remember doing.

I can be sappy now about them.

They've been in bed for a couple of hours, so I'm feeling lovey.

If I'd written this a few hours ago I would be a little less lovey.

I guess it's a little like childbirth. 

The memory of the nastiness dulls with time.

At the end of the day, some sort of magical spell settles in, and sprinkles love dust to help remind me what precious little treasures they are.

Even when they're smelly, back talking little boogers.

Come nightfall,

when they're snuggled in bed,

I know how very much I love those little rascals.

Amazing Books

Don't you love it when a book changes your perspective on life?

When it inspires you like crazy to live better

be better?

Or is just one you cannot for the life of you get out of your head?

I love those kinds of books.

First there was Go Ask Alice by Anonymous (?!).  That book saved my hide.  I could have easily tried crazy drugs as a reckless kid but that book terrified me.  Thank God I read it in 8th grade.

Another was The Stand by Stephen King.  I remember reading it as a youngish teenager and having it blow my mind that there was a chance that we might have our own dark ages.  Maybe that's the reason why it seems practical to have the scene set for potential self sufficiency if the need arises...  AKA 5 acres in the middle of no where...

The Grapes of Wrath by Steinbeck was a terrifyingly realistic book to me of what it must be like to be normal people thrown into destitution.

Big Russ and Me by Tim Russert is another that is often in my head.  I loved that book, which I just read because I was bored not because Tim Russert inspired me I just knew him as that guy with a white board on NBC when it was election time (this was before his untimely death).  It is such a loving tribute to his dad, Big Russ.

The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh helped me to remember that people are often affected by what has happened to them early in life and foster children need extra patience and love.

These are just directly off the top of my head, I know many many more will come to mind after posting.

But the latest, the reason for blogging, was Still Alice by Lisa Genova.

Alzheimer's is a terrifying disease.  I know of three relatively close people who have suffered from early onset Alzheimer's- so I was drawn to this novel written from the perspective of someone living with it.k

Mental illness and brain damage are such uncomfortable afflictions.  I'm sure for both the afflicted and those around them.

This book was so wonderfully written, it inspired me to be more compassionate.

Ok, I thought I was before, but it's a reminder that people are people regardless of what life has dealt them.

What a powerful powerful book.  I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone.

While my dad didn't have Alzheimer's, it made me wish I could go back in time to be with him again.

To be more patient,

extra loving

and affectionate

more understanding.

Read it and let it inspire you for the people you are blessed to be with today.

Perspective on Yard Work

Wouldn't it be easier if we all declared weeds as plants and plants as weeds?

Who gets to decide what's a weed and what's a plant?

Is it the same guy who categorizes which words are profanity and which are acceptable in proper company?

Seems like a mighty powerful job.

I think I could do better.

I would declare all living things as plants worthy of retention.

Maybe then I wouldn't end up with the tightest hamstrings in THE WORLD and a sore back after one day of wrestling with those things you all call "weeds."

Then maybe I would follow it up with, "Way to go fucker!  You just saved someone a whole lot of work!"  But in my altered planet that would be a good thing to say.

Perhaps I'm a bit delirious.

Please Dear God let school start soon...

And yes, our yard looks light years better now that all of said "weeds" have been removed.

Don't mind me while I disappear into a book...

Do you  ever just want to fold your self up into a good book like the never ending story?

I do.

It's my fantasy escape.

So-word to the wise...

if you see me racking up a stack of read novels there's something I'm escaping from.

Most likely the insane chaos of my blessedly full family life.

They are blessings,

they are blessings,

they are blessings,

almost equal to the amount of work they require.

Hear my self pep talk?

I wanted more than anything to be able to stay at home with my children- to raise them myself.

But there are days when I can't help but wonder if I might appreciate them more when I had a consistent break from them.

Maybe the resentment of putting away every single item in the house they lay their little hands on each and every day, all day long would lessen.

I realize it won't last long.

I know I will wish them back under my every footstep,

interrupting my each and every task

10,000 times(!).

I do love them more than anything else in the world.

But mama needs a break every now and then!

I envy those women who have taken an evening a week for themselves each and every week.

I wish our family schedule wasn't so complicated to allow for that (with my husband working we're only a whole family 2 out of every 3 nights-makes me feel guilty to take that away yet another night more than is absolutely necessary).

Clearly I'm not the only one with a little tension.

Foamy anythings don't stand a chance in our house.

Little nibblers.

I'm not 100% sure who the culprit is,

but I have my suspicions.

Maybe I'm getting old.

I no longer feel satisfied by accomplishing a lot in a short period of time with the kids under foot.

It's starting to just make me irritable and snappy.

So, anyone have some good book recommendations?

Lately I've read: The Little Giant of Aberdeen County, To Heaven and Back: A Doctor's Extraordinary Account of Her Death, Heaven, Angels and Life Again: True Story, The Girl Who Chased the Moon, The Peach Keeper, Garden Spells (all magic realism type novels- my favorite) and Still Alice (I think I'm going to blog about later).

Yup, the stack is growing.

And yet, this mama needs to disappear into a good book again...

Share your favorite escape books with me?

Pretty please?

Dark of night & recipes

The bedtime shuffle in the dark of night...

Charlie had a bloody nose in the night.

I had no idea that he'd come into our bed last night.

Then this morning Miss Elsa work up at 4am crying because of a bad dream.  She kept asking me to stay with her the rest of the night.

I assured her I would, but my M. O. is to typically jet the second she's asleep and head back to my own bed.

Miss Smarty-Pants wasn't buying it.

When I rolled my back toward her I felt her little hands grab the straps of my nightgown and hang on.

Like I was on a leash.

She wasn't letting me get away so easily.

Seems to be a rash of bad dreams.

I have no idea why my kids are all having deep rooted fears of something happening to me and/or Mark.

That's the reason, I believe, Sarina won't spend the night anywhere.

I remember having those myself.  I hated that show Punky Brewster because of it.

It turned my stomach to think of being orphaned.

Charlie laid in bed tonight worrying about bad dreams.

He even asked, "Are bad dreams nightmares?"

Poor kids.

I'm hoping that this too shall pass.

Oh, then this morning I noticed Elsa stomping her foot repeatedly.

I realized that she was saying she was stomping out the sparkles.

Sparkles.

It took me a second to realize the "sparkles" was tingling in her foot.

It must have fallen asleep.

I like that.

Sparkly feet.

When they're asleep.

And now to continue my random train of thoughts...

My eating habits have relaxed a little more than I'd like recently.

And I have an extra 5lbs to prove it.

So, it's time to cut the carbs again.

This morning I made two salad dressings to have on hand for good quick salads.

The first is Creamy Balsamic Vinaigrette 

These are the ingredients I used- that's sugar in a sugar bowl, in case you were wondering.

First things first, ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS buy "FIRST COLD PRESSED" olive oil for salad dressings- or anything else not heated to a high temp.

I learned that's how you find the tasty olive oil when I studied in Italy.

And boy does it make a difference.

Kirkland has a good one that's reasonably priced- we go through this pretty quickly in our house.

Usually I throw together whatever I have on hand to use with this dressing.  Today was tomatoes, mini bell peppers, coleslaw cabbage, butter lettuce, some marinated onions (red onions sliced and sitting in a baggie with balsamic vinegar for a couple hours to a couple days) slivers of Dubliner cheese and two hard boiled eggs.

I'm at the end of my fresh groceries- ideally I'd have my marinated red onions, tomatoes, avocado, chicken, (maybe even some bacon), some type of strong cheese (blue, feta, Dubliner) and lots of fresh butter lettuce or romaine.

Also, I'm a sucker for a good Asian Noodle Salad .

Fortunately my friend Robin keeps me hooked up.

I've posted her Spicy Thai Noodle Salad before.

Now this one she shared with me this year.

These are the ingredients I had on hand to use today.

I make this dressing and try to have it on hand. Super quick salad with left over grilled chicken or steak with cabbage (often I cheat and use the coleslaw mix from the grocery store).

But do NOT use Kikkoman soy sauce from costco- way too salty.

I'm sorry that I made that mistake when I ran out of the low sodium sauce and was making this for a family.

Also, if I add noodles (I try to stay away from carbs) then I use Trader Joe's High Fiber Spaghetti.

Yes, I went through a phase when I was trying to consume 30 grams of fiber each day eating some nasty cardboard crackers (now used as fish bait at Ken Lake).

Now I'm just trying to eat whole foods with minimal carbs.

Five lbs can stick like super glue but I've learned that if you're persistent, even super glue can release it's hold when you keep at it.

Weird Mannerisms

We all do odd things.

Some people twitch,

some fidget,

some pull hair out of their head.

When he was little, Carl used to constantly have his little tongue pointing out of the corner of his mouth.

Then, when he knew he was doing something he shouldn't it- would go side to side,

as if I wouldn't notice.

Lately he's got a new odd one.

When he says something, he echoes the a key word from what he's just said,

just moving his lips like he needs to taste the word again,

but this time without sound.

I find it mesmerizing.

His little mouth,

missing two front teeth,

and dimple on his chin that seems to be growing more pronounced each day.

That dimple was so deep when he was that bubbling chubby baby (it's true!),

all but disappeared as he went through a big growth spurt,

See, he was a chubby little imp.

seems now he's gearing up for another growth spurt- only he hasn't had an opportunity to pack on any weight,

except in his chin

which you really notice as he does his silly little echo ghost whisper.

Funny boy.

Here is the big guy with his buddies from pre-school- adorable boys all around.  Photo by: Monica Snider

Sorry!

Have you seen the pinterest.com quote, "Cleaning your house with children around is like trying to brush your teeth while eating Oreos."

My sister and I were just talking about how true that is.

Yet today, for some crazy reason, I couldn't take the disaster upstairs any longer.

I was starting to feel like a hoarder- 5 tubs full of camping bedding, towels and dishes for the trailer until we get it secured from the mice invasion.  Plus two tubs and a garbage bag of fantastic hand-me-downs for Miss Elsa, dirty clothes, stuffed animals, you name it- it's laying on the floor upstairs...

I had to, "STOP THE INSANITY!!!"

Can you hear Susan Powell?  Remember the blond buzz cut lady who was always yelling, "Stop the insanity!"?

I'm frantically racing from scrubbing my shower to switching laundry, to purging dressers to putting away laundry.

I know the kids are unattended downstairs.

At one point, Charlie's crying because Carl kneed him in the eye while wrestling- we'll see if it turns into a black eye.

Then, while I was vacuuming Elsa chased the boys with the board off the computer lap desk.

Somehow Charlie pushed it and it whacked her in the mouth.

She cried because there's blood.

He popped himself in timeout and kept saying, "I'm sorry."

Once the waters settled, Charlie was still in his self-inflicted time-out, and sneaked a kiss on a piece of paper.

Carl laughed and said, "I saw that Charlie!"

Charlie replied, "It's just a picture of Elsa."

Sweet boy.

His guilt was so bad  he tried making amends by kissing this well worn photo of his baby sister.

Now you know why my version of cleaning is wiping surfaces with a bleach wipe after bedtime and running the vacuum whenever I can find a quiet few minutes to squeeze it in (of course that has to fall in line with a moderately picked up house).

I don't have the stamina for much more than that.

So, to quote another pinterest.com quote, "Pardon the mess, my children are making memories."

Ha!  Memories of injuring each other and eating goldfish for lunch.

No one's perfect.

Right?

Breakfast!

I don't miss the chicken poop on my porches.

Or giving them water (touching their nasty watering container with poop everywhere).

Or Elsa taste testing their poop.

Remember that?

GROSS!!

But I think it would be wise if we hurried up and got some more chickens.

This morning we consumed seventeen eggs.

Mark had 3 (I had 2) fried over soy chorizo, cheese, avocado and hot sauce- perfect hangover cure.

Elsa had 3 fried with cheese and medium hot sauce.

Charlie had 1 fried.

Carl had EIGHT egg whites with medium hot sauce.

Sarina has yet to place her order.

And I wonder where all our money goes.

Right into their little bellies.

*Update: Sarina also consumed 4 egg whites bringing the grand total up to 21 eggs consumed by this family in a single meal.  Sheesh!

Over Heard at a Party

I was hovering near the kids at a party last night- making sure they consumed a decent amount of food before running off to swim and play again.

One of the kids (a boy Carl's age) was sitting next to Carl and Sarina (Charlie was across the table- Elsa was at another table with her little boyfriends).

He said, in a fantastically deep little boy voice, "Sammy told me he has a crush on Elsa."  (Sammy is an adorable boy who was in Charlie's pre-school class).

photo by Monica Snider

Carl kind of hit him on the arm and said, "Dude, that's my sister." 

At least I'm pretty sure there was a "Dude" in there.

The boy said again, "Yeah, Sammy said he has a crush on Elsa."

Again, Carl hit him on the arm and said, "That's my sister!"

photo by Monica Snider

Then it registered with little Mr. Deep-Voice- I don't think he had realized the connection.

He looked at Sarina and said, "Is she your sister too?"

Sarina nodded.

He sat there calculating for a second.

"Four kids?!"

Sarina and Carl nodded.

I think those kind of numbers were beyond his comprehension.

And how I love that Carl was stunned by someone talking about his sister.

Oh the years to come...

Miss Elsa will be surrounded by boys- Carl 3 grades ahead, Charlie just one grade ahead, and a cousin Conner the same grade.   That means Carl will be a senior and Charlie a Sophomore when Elsa and Conner will be freshman.

Not that she'll need it.  I have a feeling that kid is going to hold her own.



And of course, Miss Sophie will be a junior.

We'll have Capital pretty well stacked.

I'll have to figure out how to get in those halls to see how those dynamics play out...

Life Changing Events

Have you ever thought about how much your life can change by a single incident?

I know my life has been filled with little things that have altered the course of my life.

The day a girl told me I wasn't any fun unless I was drinking (I was 15 and had been "friends" with her since kindergarten), boy did that set me back on the straight and narrow.

The night Mark lifted me into the stands at a football game, senior year of high school, I knew I'd marry him.

The single week I was off birth control... and hello Miss Sarina.

When I was younger, "that's life" is something I remember being said for lots of little life lessons- then I'd roll my eyes.

I know a family who has had such a profound life-changing experience, I cannot imagine, nor can I fathom how far reaching their experience will be for others.

I do know that I cannot stop thinking about them.

And what I feel is that they made a very heroic choice.

They're a family much like mine.  He is a firefighter, she works when she can, they had three babies in close succession, then found out they were going to have another.

I'll admit I thought whoa Nelly, they're in for a whole new level of work.

The year Elsa was born was a tricky year for me.  I wouldn't trade it for anything, but I attribute a few grey hairs and darker shades of dark under my eyes to that year (ok and subsequent years too...)

This family has had a whole new ride.

They learned their beautiful baby girl had Trisomy 18 (Down's Syndrome is an extra 23rd chromosome, Trisomy 18 is an extra 18th chromosome).

Essentially, it means a tough road for the family.

She started a blog to share her experiences, which I know will comfort many others, and is beautifully composed.

Many families with similar diagnosis elect to terminate the pregnancy, what I have no doubt is a heart wrenching decision- possibly one I would consider as well.

This family elected to follow God's will,

to not make that choice,

and let her little life play itself out as He sees fit.

And what a beautiful process.

They have been so open and sharing with their experience, sharing with us sitting helpless on the sidelines.

It is unfathomable to me how you look at a date,

you know it's coming,

you know it's going to be challenging,

it's going to be a monumental time for painful growth,

and you choose to find the beauty,

you see the gift in it.

Now there's a life lesson.

Living life with grace.

That's exactly what this family is doing.

They can walk this earth knowing they made the right decision for their beautiful fourth baby.

They allowed her to come to them on her terms and live her shockingly short little life swaddled in love.

Surrounded by the beauty of many people filled with unconditional love.

I prayed they could have a safe little bubble where they could relish their time together.

I wish it could have been longer for them.

But I know that Abby and God had a plan.

It has touched many lives already.

And I'll bet it will continue to do so for quite some time.

May God hold you in His arms Miss Abby Girl, may He keep your loving family close, and filled with the joy you brought them.

Birdies

June 28th was a special day.

Thanks to my sweet friend's incredibly hard work and determination, she made it a day to celebrate and honor.  That friend can move mountains, I believe it.

The opening of her cupcake shop- Sweet Charley B's was wildly successful, the line out the door and for stretches of time even around the corner.  She baked frantically from 2am until the afternoon when she just physically couldn't bake any longer and had run out of baking supplies.

And still, there were people wanting more.

That's how you do it.

You leave them wanting more.

I knew she'd develop a cult-like following.

And that she has.

This June 28th was also a big day for my Charlie.

He had to have 2 "fill in's" at the dentist, and because of his fear on the last "fill in's" they provided us with some anti-anxiety medicine to give the night before and morning of the big procedure.

So, he was a little off his game that day.

But we were all there to celebrate our sweet friend and witness the beyond-amazing day.

Then ambled over the the farmer's market.

Usually when we go over there the kids want an apple, a cookie, face painting, balloon animals- you know how it goes...

Friends were getting shave ice.

It's all so enticing to little eyes.

But not my Charlie.

He had his eye on something I never would have predicted.

There was an artist table set up where I'd never seen one before.  I'd never noticed this artist before.  And Charlie could not take his eyes off it.

He wanted a picture of a birdie more than you could know.

Such intense longing in those big green eyes.

We went over to look at them, hoping that might appease him.

We talked with the lady, and found out the framed ones were $40.

Not a price I was willing to pay to keep a kid happy.  $10 maybe.  Not $40, even though I appreciated the artist's work and it is a modest price for a numbered print.

The lady offered to take his picture with whatever he selected, to share with the artist.

I eventually talked him into a card which was not really what he wanted, but he picked one.

This is the card he selected- he tends to favor the Gold Finches.
Artist: Dee McDonald

He was still out of sorts and we walked away but he kept staring at that table.

His buddy Jamesy shared his shaved ice and he seemed to perk up a little.

I have no idea why I did this, but I asked him if he wanted to go back and get his picture with his card for the artist and he nodded yes.

So we went back and I asked the lady if she'd mind taking that picture.

He kind of grimaced rather than the big smile I expected, so I explained to her why he was out of sorts.

She told me she was a healer and asked if I minded if she put her hands on him, to see if she could help him feel better.

At that point I thought anything was worth a try so I agreed, watching Charlie's reaction to make sure he was fine with it.

He was pretty stoic but patient.

She also applied some essential oils behind his ears and while she did this she asked him his name.

"Charlie" was his solemn-face answer as they were eye to eye.

And the lady's eyes welled with tears.

The name moved her.

She said her dad had been Charlie too.

Then she stunned me by saying that she had a gift she would like to give him

if he would accept it.

She explained that the artist had provided her with a ($40) framed print to give to someone.  The artist had just said that the lady would know who to give it to, when the right person came along.

He choose to hang it over his bed so he could sleep by his birdie every night.

And that right person was my Charlie Bear, lover of all things living especially birdies, fishies, frogs, bugs, puppies, turtles, you name it he probably loves it.

My sweet little St Francis of Assisi.

Charlie.

It's a name (and people) I love- either spelled Charley or Charlie.

It's wondrous when you let yourself take in the beauty of people with pure hearts.

I'm grateful for that healer, the artist, and my little boy who looked past face painting, shave ice, and balloon animals.  Who was drawn to a talented artist whose subjects are some of God's most beautiful creatures.

We live in a beautiful world filled with kind and generous souls.

I hope that I take the time to notice and revel in it each time it happens before me.

Treasure Mama!

So, the reason I haven't posted any blogs in a while is because we've been a little more busy than usual.

We had a couple of birthdays 

happy birthday daddy

happy birthday carl

And a couple of chipped front teeth.

Just after this pretty girl walked in the Ken Lake 4th of July parade, did the gunny sack race, hoola hoop contest, face painting, etc she was doing a pull over on the trapeze, looked down mid-circle and saw that her undies were showing, lost momentum and whacked her two front teeth good.  Poor baby sobbed she was never going to be pretty with her eye, crooked teeth and then big chipped teeth.  The next day she spent over 2 hours in the dentist chair with a brief consultation with the endodontist.  

All of my kids except Carl (who currently doesn't have any front teeth) have damaged their front baby (and now big girl) teeth.  You're welcome Dr. Kapust- we want to keep you in business...

And she's as beautiful as ever.

Then we were on vacation for a good stretch of time.

It was delightful.

We headed over to Leavenworth and stayed with my sister-in-law for a few days and watched my nephew play baseball in 102 degree weather(!!)

Charlie was beyond happy catching fish, playing in the creek, and a prized little butterfly held just long enough to get this picture.

Elsa is quite a fisherwoman too.

The kids all love playing in the "cricket."

We stopped off at the rocky reach dam to see the salmon swimming.

Then we all headed over to Mark's parent's place in Mazama.  They brought their pop-up trailer so we had extra beds (the cabin has beds to sleep 4 and we're a whopping 10 together).  

It was so great!

The cabin is at the base of Goat Wall which is a big rock climber hot spot.  You can see that big stepped rock in this picture- they're at the base of that...

Funny story behind this picture.  I took it on our drive up a long, bumpy, twisty turney road to reach the highest spot in Washington you can drive to in your car.

We decided it was silly to take two cars, so my sister-in-law and I graciously offered to sit in the back-back of the suburban for the drive.

It was beautiful.

But not worth the car sickness and sore bum in my book.

Not to mention that we fell a mile shy of the tippy top because there was too much snow blocking the roadway.

In JULY!

Another day we took a hike to Cutthroat Lake.  It was beautiful.  And our very first family hike.

Mark and I even had 2 seconds together when I made him let me take a picture, then Sarina snapped this one of us.  I'm not sure if that's my hair or pit hair...

It was not without it's dramas (Elsa was carried 98% of the way and Charlie hit melt-down mode until Uncle Kirk stepped in).  

My guess is they're both thinking, "Brass Hole."

But it was our first as a family.  

I see big steps ahead of us in that arena.  

Good free entertainment with the benefit of doing a body good too.  

Perfect for a family of 6, I say!

The kids had plenty of practice with their BB guns and .22s.  Poor, poor little birdies...  Believe me we had a talk about that activity.

They swam in Pearrygin Lake and caught 2 delicious trout (just a bit of mayo and Johnnies grilled up- perfection!)

bringing in supper

he was a little unsure about the blood

They found "wiener man."  Can you see why they might call that funny piece of wood that?

They built an awesome fort.  Called the "SS Cabin Club"

a picture for a contest held by their dentist office

it was even big enough for a campfire

Big cousin Ben took time out to play with the youngest of the group.

And of course s'mores...

can you tell who's ridiculously tired?

I can't believe I almost forgot the whopper.

Our last night at the cabin we had it to ourselves.  

Our kids were out chasing a poor mama deer that made her second pass in front of the kids- right by their SS Cabin.  I was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner and Mark was out squaring up and setting the posts in concrete for his dad's carport.

Shortly after, Miss Elsa can running up to me with her hands clasped tight.

"Mama I found treasure!" the "treasure" said in a pirate type voice.

She'd been finding treasure left and right for a while so I indulged her and asked if I could see it.

I truly wish I had stopped and taken a picture of said treasure in her sweet little baby girl hand.

Instead, I quicker-than-lightening shook said "treasure" into the garbage (we'd just had spaghetti for dinner- you'll notice).

Can you guess what that treasure is?

Yup.

Deer poop.

NASTY!

I don't know what it is with that girl and animal poop.  

Maybe she'll become an expert in it.  

I don't know.  

But it's disgusting.

I couldn't get her to the bathroom fast enough to start scrubbing those little baby girl hands.  I think we sang the alphabet song 10 times while we lathered, rinsed and lathered some more.

All in all it was such a beautiful, fun trip.  I tried to pare down the pictures but it was tough.  

Beautiful babies, beautiful scenery.

I hope they remember how fun it was.

As always, so very many events packed into a short time frame: birthdays, visit from the tooth fairy, chipped teeth, 911 calls, treasure, and travels.  

The fun just never, ever ends.  

And I hope it stays that way.  

Maybe with a little less 911, dentist trips, and poop.