I Wanna Fall In Love

All over again. Our life has just felt so... ordinary lately. Lots of end of the school year activities and events. Brooke's Birthday coming up. Brother-in-law moved in with us. Never-ending laundry & dishes, of course. The park is SLAMMED with people coming to escape the heat with a swim. Fun for them, work for me. I'm ready for our Anniversary. The big One-Three. We usually try to go away for the weekend or something. This year we're talking about going to Victoria, B.C. I can't WAIT! I miss my husband. We feel a little like strangers co-existing in this crazy busy world. I'm dying to just leave the "real world" behind for a couple of days. Only one more month... The count down begins.

More Real Than I've Ever Been

I'm angry. You have no idea how hard it is for me to say that. It's true though, I'm angry. I saw my dad at the elementary school on Friday (he was there to pick up my little sister and I was there to pick up my oldest son.) This was the first time that I'd talked to him in two years and it was awkward and sad. I haven't been "not talking" to him as some people believe. Stubborn snobbishness isn't really my thing and I would never fully cut off any member of my family no matter what. I'm much more the unconditional love type and I do love him to death. Every thing's just been so messed up and complicated though.

When my parents were going through their divorce, I was torn as they both wanted me to take their side. I told them that I refused to take sides. I didn't testify in court for either one of them, although they both wanted me to testify against the other parent. For a while, they both told me stuff about the other person that was hurtful and confusing. I told myself that I was an adult and I'd handle their divorce like an adult. I'm mature enough to understand that some people are better off apart, that everyone makes mistakes, and that for some couples it's just too much to move on (at least in a healthy manner) after those mistakes. I've never felt angry that they got divorced. What I'm angry about is the way that it all went down (is still going down) and that I feel a little like an orphan whose parents are still alive sometimes.

I have a lot of friends who have lost their parents to death and I feel sympathy for them. Sometimes I selfishly think that they have it easier though. More than likely, if their parents were alive they would be present in their lives. They didn't choose to leave them. I haven't talked to my dad in two years because he chose not to. I don't really even fully understand exactly what happened, because like I said, there wasn't a fight that resulted in us "not speaking" or anything. I just never took any one's side and I think that hurt their feelings. I'm not sure. My mom called me and told me that he doesn't even think I'm his biological daughter. She said that he accused her of saying that I was his when I was really the product of incest. I heard a lot of this kind of stuff as well as had people come up to me and say, "Your dad says, 'My daughter won't even talk to me." Which isn't true. Every time he ever called me or stopped by I was happy to talk to him. I just changed the subject whenever it turned to bashing the other parent and when it started getting really bad I avoided both parents and figured that if they wanted to talk to me they knew where I was. I didn't pursue either of them really. I guess in my mind it seemed like if they really cared and wanted to have a relationship that they would seek me out.

I called him on Father's Day and got his voice mail and left a message. Same with his Birthday. He didn't call back and I'm guessing that he was probably screening those calls to begin with. He didn't call me on my Birthday or my kids' or any Holiday for that matter. We live in the same town and somehow we've managed to not see each other for two years. That is, until Friday. When I pulled into the school parking lot and saw him, my heart raced with anxiety. I had no idea what to say / how to say it. Underneath it all, I was thrilled to see him. I just didn't know how to act. I wanted to make sure that he understood that I was happy to see him but I didn't want to act too eager & get rejected either.

I've been thinking about this ever since. I've been wondering if I shouldn't be the grown-up and make the first move and pursue him after all. Should I show up for a visit? leave frequent voice mail messages just so he knows that I do care? Then, part of me realizes that I AM angry. I don't think it's fair that I should have to take on that role. I'm his child. I can't imagine that my kids could ever do anything to make me do this to them. I somewhat expect at least something to come between us through the process of changing from child to adult & as they assert their independence. As a parent, I realize that I won't always get my way. That my kids are their own individuals and we won't always see eye to eye. I'm prepared to love them regardless and to be their to support them along the way. I don't understand how anyone can just not talk to their kids. Not be there for them. I NEED to feel more loved and accepted than I do even though I'm an adult and am capable of rationalizing the reasons behind the void.



Today, I took a quiz on Face book. I believe the title was, "Which Book Of The Bible Are You?" Here's my result:
Hosea
You are in touch with the pain of rejection and this puts you in touch with God. You remain faithful though others do not remain faithful to you. In this way you are like God and it is a benefit to you, though it is painful. Because of this experience you have a message to communicate of God's love - and also of the judgment that will come if we refuse to know God.

This struck a chord because I remembered the day 8 years ago that I felt that same thought in my spirit. We were living in a travel trailer on my in-laws property. I had a 3 year old, a 1 year old, a newborn, and was taking care of my 9 month old little sister. My marriage was in shambles and my parents were separated and both coming to me to vent and to watch my baby sister. I had very few friends because I was a young mother and most of the people I had been friends with before were just leaving for college & once I was married with kids they acted like they didn't know what to do around me. Of course, the fellow parents in my kid's preschool class were more like my parents' age and were clearly uncomfortable around me. They were friendly but it was obvious that they thought of me as a kid more than a peer. I was so incredible lonely and I just kept giving and giving because I felt like if I gave enough that someone would notice and appreciate it and love me. As my mom dropped off my little sister in a hurry one day, I felt a pang of heartache that she didn't stop and talk to me again. I tried to shove that down inside and ignore it, telling myself that it wasn't personal. That life was just busy for both of us.

All of a sudden though, I felt something inside of me say, "This is how I feel about you." and I knew that I was guilty of doing the same thing in my relationship with God. How often had I said a rushed, generic prayer because it was dinner or bedtime? I suddenly felt guilty about all of the times that I had prayed because I needed something and that I rarely prayed just to say thank you. If I truly loved Him, I would take the time to learn about Him. The only time I read my scriptures was to help me fall asleep though. How could I take and take and take and never give back like I had? I knew in my heart that I had a purpose and yet I've always ignored it because I was lazy and didn't want to get out of my comfort zone.

So, between running into my Dad and taking that Facebook quiz, I'm realizing something. I have been rejected and I am angry, but I can't just sit in that anger forever or wait for it to just magically go away. I understand that anger is like taking poison and then waiting for the other person to die. I need to channel it, grow from it, and use it to help other people the way that I was meant to. NOT because I expext some sort of emotional reward or acceptance because of it, but because my Heavenly Father wants me to. And He deserves it, because He's the only Father who will love me unconditionally. I've treated my earthly Father way better than I have treated my Heavenly Father and yet it's Him who keeps seeking me out. And even though I still don't think it's fair to be in this situation, I think I'll pursue my Dad so that he knows that I unconditionally love him. You've gotta be the change you want to see in the world. (Even if it hurts...)

Can't A Girl Get A Little Privacy?

This evening I got yelled at in the grocery store by a dermatologist. I've been painting the family business for the last couple of days (and wearing sunblock!) and I've got a lobster-ish look going. My eight year old and I were on the pudding aisle breaking down the cost of buying pudding cups in bulk vs. buying the mix and milk and making it ourselves. This man came along and smiled at me. I thought, "Oh- he thinks it's funny that I'm talking about the cost of pudding at length with a child." Then, he opened his mouth. Turns out I read his expression wrong. His smile was more like a smirk and that smirk was more like a look of disdain (the same look that people have when they feel awkwardly sorry for the homeless person begging for change on the corner and don't know how to react. Or maybe on second thought, the look that they get when the bumbling fool working the drive-thru window at the local fast food restaurant just can't seem to get their order right repeatedly.) He berated me for allowing myself to get burnt and warned me of the evils of UV rays. As usual, I attempted to lighten the situation with humor and joked that I was planning on going to The Relay For Life tonight but might get kicked out by the skin cancer group. He didn't laugh with me though.

The thing is, I'm getting really sick of people sticking their noses where they don't belong. Yes, I get that he was well meaning. He's not the first person this week or even today to be annoying though. Yesterday, I took my son to his bi-weekly therapy session. Interestingly enough, I ran into my long lost aunt that I hadn't seen in a decade. Since there's apparently not much else to do in waiting rooms, she filled me in on the soap opera of the the years of her life that I had missed. Her poor daughter (my sons age) was there for a counseling appointment due to (well, let's say a series of unfortunate events) and had to sit there as her mother told me all the bloody details on her daughter's problems (in front of her.) Then, she turned the table and said, "So, why does he have to see the therapist?" As if I was gonna sit there and spill my child's issues out for everyone in the waiting room. (I only do that sort of embarrassing gossiping on my blog because as we all know blogging is different. ;-)

I realize that I probably make people uncomfortable at times too. It's funny how it's okay for me to dish out TMI, but I get offended by other people's "openness". Let's face it though, nobody likes a dermatologist who brings his work with him to the grocery store or a fellow waiting room attendee who says, "So what are you in for?"

The Things I'll Do For $$$- (not for the weak of stomach)

I don't work 9-to-5. That's not the way I make my livin'. Nope, I clean public park bathrooms & empty 42 garbage cans whenever they need it. It's much like mothering. You can't help it if your baby's diaper needs changing at 2 AM. You just power through it. So it is with backed up toilets and vandalism. It doesn't matter if I'm wearing my best high heels and shiny red lipstick to go out on the town with my man. If the bathroom is in trouble, I must come to the rescue. It's sort of hilarious, because I do have a decent head on my shoulders and yet I REALLY, really like this nasty, manual labor stuff. I could have been a doctor... or a lawyer... or a, well anything I set my mind to. I'm scrubbing toilets though. And most days, it suits me.

Of course, there are the occasional times that I really, really, REALLY hate my job. For the first two weeks straight after we opened up the bathrooms for the season (they're locked during the months that freeze to prevent busted pipes) someone was "decorating" the bathrooms with their feces. Yes, feces. They started off small by wiping it all over the toilet seat and wiping with a pair of thermal wool socks then shoving those socks down into the toilet so that it flooded over on to the floor when flushed. That was pretty. Stuff like that happens though, so I just put on some rubber boots and latex gloves and cleaned it up. No big. The next day, they skipped the toilet and left a steaming pile on the floor in front of the toilet though. I was not impressed. Keep in mind that this was back when I had just discovered that I was pregnant.

As the days went on, there were more piles. Always in the same spot. My ten year old son commented, "Whoa! What? Are they taking the All-Bran 10 day challenge or something?!" Unfortunately, it went on like this. Until one day, this person had written "Hi" with their stool sample on the bathroom wall. It totally creeped me out that they were leaving these "presents" for us and now "communicating". Later that night, we went to lock the bathrooms up for the night and there was a 5 gallon bucket in the same spot that the piles had been in filled with a toxic mix of vomit and poop. Poor Dustin had to carry it. We had to figure out what in the heck to even do with it. If it weren't so late at night, I probably would have called the health department for advice on how to dispose of toxic waste. My hubby & I laughed at the absurdity of the things that we have had conversations about since taking this job.

When I found yet another present the next day, I called the Sheriff's department to see what could be done. I was desperately wishing real life played out like CSI and they could just DNA test it. He was intrigued, but he didn't really have a whole lot of advice. He basically said that if it were him, he would just lock the bathrooms up and put a sign on the door saying, "Closed due to ongoing vandalism." We wavered between doing that and leaving them open so that we could finally catch who was doing it. My kids would ask me (eyes sparkling), "Mom? If you walked in on him doing it, would you beat him up?!" They REALLY loved the idea of me (total non-fighter) opening a can on the "bad guy". I told them that I wasn't going to start a fight with a guy who was in the middle of a BM, but that I would totally lock the bathroom gate so that he couldn't get out and call 911. They didn't think that sounded nearly as exciting.

Fortunately, it just stopped as suddenly as it started. I'm not sure why, but I'm thankful. I'm not going to pretend that aside from that issue the job is pretty. Believe me, you don't want to empty 42 garbage cans that have been fermenting in the heat. When I'm done with this job, I may be ready to become some sort of Maggot Specialist (they have those, right?) I bet you that I could qualify as an expert on maggot life stages. Don't get me started on how many people that I have witnessed in the throws of extra marital affairs. I've lived in this SMALL town my entire life. WHY on earth do these people insist on coming to my backyard for this? And why is the average time of day for cheating in a car without tinted windows right when the school bus drives by? I've lost count of how many used condoms and hypodermic needles I've had to pick up & dispose of. And they call parks family places. Ha!


So, why do I do it you ask? Simple. We get paid to live in our house and it allows me to be a stay at home mom a little longer. Not to mention, what would I have had to blog about today and gross you out with otherwise?

Marriage Mania

Being married is a terrifying venture when you really open your eyes and look around. I feel like I am so happily married and at the same time sometimes I feel like I'm ready to just throw in the towel. Truth be told, there's absolutely no way that I would still be married if I weren't so bloody stubborn about not failing.

It's not his fault. Like I said, I'm happily married. I think we really fit together and balance each other out beautifully. None of the things that bother me about him are deal breakers. He says he feels likewise about my flaws. So, what is my problem?

I'll tell you: I'm scared to death of wasting my time and getting my heart broken. My parents were married for 25 LONG years before they got divorced. I see a lot of that actually. Every time that I hear about another couple who had made it a couple of decades before "spontaneously" combusting my heart begins to race and I break out in a cold sweat. Most of them seemed so happy. Meant for each other. Content.

Further complicating my fears is that I have NO idea how to prevent this. I mean, we go out of our way to spend quality time together. We try hard to respect one another. Two people both caring enough to make an effort to keep the romance alive is a solid start, right? That said, most of the other couples that I've referred to seemed to be doing the same. So, what happened to them?

I just can't stand the thought of investing so much of myself for so many years of my life just to have him come to me 10 or 15 years done the road to say, "I'm done." I honestly don't know how anyone can succesfully move on from that. I look at my mom as she struggles with being alone (even though she did want to get divorced) and I just think, "What would I do?" Dustin & I are so used to being together and we have so many habits, routines, and traditions. I can't imagine having to rebuild a new life with someone else when I'm so commited to this life that it feels as natural as breathing.

I was watching the Elizabeth Edwards interview on Oprah the other day. Here they are, this couple that has been married since 1977. They share 4 children (two of which they went through fertility treatments to conceive.) They've weathered the storms of losing a child and her battle with cancer. You can see the love they share just looking at them. And yet he cheated on her.

When asked about why she's still with him Elizabeth said, "He [John] has provided for us. He has -- you know, his fathering has been nearly perfect. His caring for me, with this really big painful exception, has been extraordinary, through Wade's death, through the cancer ... You have to say, is that -- is this piece, this piece which is so painful, so big, that it obscures all of those other things. And did I think about that? I did think about that. But in the end I decided it did not ... My forgiving him has allowed me to let go of a lot of the pain."

Which makes me wonder how I would handle that pain. I think I would (like a lot of these couples) fight to the death to save my marriage. I try to imagine something so big that it would make me okay with walking away from my husband forever & all I can think is that I wish I could be tough. I wish I could be such an independent woman that I could just see everything as black & white instead of this emotional rainbow mess that I see through my rose colored glasses. Sometimes I romanticize this tough, I-don't-need-a-man mama so well that I wonder why I don't just run now before my love grows even more (threatening any chance that I ever have of not having my heart broken.)

Luckily, I know that this is ridiculous. I realize that my fear itself is probably the biggest threat to my happiness and I have no intention of giving it any more power than I already have. I still really wish that more couples stuck it out though so I didn't have to worry at all. And I'm going to really enjoy our date night tonight. I'm not taking anything for granted.

Summer Lovin'

At the risk of sounding completely mental, I'm gonna say that I'm really looking forward to summer. Yes, I realize that summer = kids 24/7 and that it wasn't all that long ago that I blogged about spring break killing me. Before that, I blogged about school closures for snow & floods driving me mad. I'm aware of the irony. I'm just so ready to chill out a bit schedule wise though. Take tonight for instance: I began getting the kids into bed at 8:00 PM. At 9:00 PM they were all still awake and whining about the injustice of going to sleep while it was still daylight out. To which the only decent reply that I could come up with was that I'm a horrible, monstrous ogre of a mother that doesn't want them to fall asleep in class. If it were summer vacation, we could have built a fire and roasted some marshmallows for smores instead and just slept in in the morning. At 10:00 PM, the boys had all finally fallen asleep but Brooke had gotten over tired to the point that instead of resting she was bawling that she missed her slide bed. Apparently, it was "the only bed I ever loved." (For those of you not in the know, her slide bed was a loft bed with a metal slide on it that she had outgrown and it took up 75% of her bedroom. We sold it on craiglist to get her a "big girl bed" over a year ago.) Now, it's the bed that got away.

OKay, off subject, I just clicked spellcheck and it's telling me that smores isn't a word. Neither is Craigslist. Is that true? I mean, smores... come on... Well, anyway, I want to go camping. I'd really like to go on a good hike. Washington summers are often gorgeous, 70 degree affairs just perfect for getting out in nature and taking in the insane amount of beautiful green-ness (Now that I know is not a word. No spell check required.) I'm psyched to see the kids run their lemonade stand some more. People are so good. Did you know that they almost always get tipped? I would have never have thought to tip at a lemonade stand. Heck, I'm sort of grossed out at the thought of drinking lemonade that was possibly made by children and would most likely never stop at a random lemonade stand & actually drink the stuff anyway. (Don't drink the Kool-Aid!!!) Hmm... I'm curious if spell check likes the word Kool-Aid or not. Let me see...

Nope. It would take Aid but not Kool. Interesting. Oh, okay... It will accept Koolaid. I could have sworn it was hyphenated.

There are only 24 days of school left. Which means that there are only 26 days until my baby girl turns seven years old. It's hard to believe that my YOUNGEST child is a shoe tying, fluent reading, teeth missing, real life first grader turning second grader. I'm actually kind of not okay with it, but just like all things I tell her not to do, she just keeps getting older even though I tell her to stop. One good thing about having older kids is that our summer vacation IS admittedly less complicated when we can go to the beach and not worry that any of our children will eat the sand or stick random objects up their nose. Having everyone potty trained helps too. My friend Chelsea & I were talking earlier about the logistics of going hiking with an infant. Kelty backpacks are fabulous, but where are you supposed to dispose of diapers when you're in the middle of nowhere? I mean, do you seriously have to pack it in pack it out? Yuck. I don't think we're missing out on anything there.

So, there you have it: the random ramblings of my sleepy mind. I'm dieting & exercising again. My brain is always a little, um, quirky on a diet. Hmm... maybe that's where the jonesing for smores thing came in... So, what are your summer plans?

My Eggo Was Preggo

So... it's been a while. I feel a little like we're strangers. And yet, I'm about to get very personal because, well, blogging is my therapy. So, here goes:

Even though I had my tubes tied 7 years ago AND was on birth control for my slew of female problems, I somehow managed to conceive. To quote my husband, "Future President, a real go-getter!" However, on Saturday, I miscarried (cutting the Future Prez's life short even by Presidential standards. Hey, even JFK made it to an untimely 46 years.) I was trying to prepare myself for a possible tubal pregnancy and was trying REALLY hard not to get my hopes up until my doctor appointment on Wednesday (when I would find out the status.) I don't think I actually did that great of a job of preparing myself for disappointment though, because I am REALLY disappointed. I keep looking at Dustin and wanting to just kick him in the side of the head. Don't worry, I've been controlling myself and sticking solely to verbal abuse.

On Saturday when it happened, I was fairly busy. Having a miscarriage didn't really fit into my schedule. Dustin was at work. Tatton had two soccer games. Someone vandalized the bathrooms at the park with feces (again). More on that in a future blog... I had 12 loads of laundry to do and the kids all had extra homework that they needed help with. All I could think as I sat there on the sidelines at T's soccer game was, "Wow, I'm such a phony. I'm sitting here having a miscarriage and acting like every thing's fine. If I don't even have time to slow down & have a miscarriage, who was I fooling thinking I had time for another baby?" Over the last couple of days, I've told my self stuff like that over & over.

"It's for the best this way."

"I probably lost it because there was something wrong with it."

"I didn't want to start a pregnancy off at this weight anyway. This gives me time to lose weight before I try again."

"I wasn't even taking prenatal vitamins yet..."

"The economy is horrible. I can't even afford another kid."

"At least my morning sickness is gone."

You name it, I've been fibbing to myself about it to try to feel better. Then, I walk through Target and start bawling. It seemed like everywhere I turned there were diapers, cute onesies, maternity clothes, little baby sandals, mothers pushing carts with cooing, bald headed little people in them. I began to wonder if the entire retail industry revolves entirely around young mothers and their spawn. Suddenly, I had a horrible case of the gimme's and I desperately wanted to buy everything in site. Thank goodness I only carry cash. A credit card would have been a nightmare in my current state or mind. And I realize: I get Nadya Suleman (the Octo-Mom.) Why can't I just be happy with the 4 wonderful kids I've already been blessed with? Am I crazy to want more? To go into a wierd denial meets depression meets greed meets spousal abuse funk just because I lost a baby after I'd already voluntarily tied my tubes?

So, whatever you do: feel sorry for my husband because I've found my anger has to be directed somewhere and it's better him than the children.

Fairytale Rom-Action

My daughter is going through a medieval phase. Her new favorite hairstyle is to french braid it the night before so that it gets all wavy and then wear it half down with two intertwining braids on the top half. She wears her hair like this with whatever shirt she can find with the puffiest cap sleeves. I think she's trying to channel her inner Gwinevere. The other day we were driving to her 6 month check-up for her ear tubes. Our ENT is over an hour drive away. Brooke talked about fairy tales the whole time.

She announced from the back seat,"When I grow up I am going to be a princess."
She said it just as certainly as if she had said, "I want to be a teacher" or "I want to be a veterinarian."

Boring, logistical grown-up that I am, I responded, "Oh really? Are you going to marry a prince or something?"

Boy, that put a burr under her saddle! "NO!!! I'm NOT going to marry a prince, Mom! I'm just going to grow up to be a princess. A SINGLE princess!" She sat there, arms folded, face scowling.

Perhaps it's the result of having three older brothers, but to Brooke, the mention of her getting married when she grows up always elicits anger. How dare mean mom mention that nasty word!

This all got me thinking about why my mind instantly goes to prince when I think of princess. Maybe my daughter had a good point. Why should she have to have a prince to make her a princess? Was I stereotyping? Being sexist? Why couldn't a girl consider herself a princess without a Prince Charming? After all, it's us princesses that have to kiss the frogs to turn them into princes. Not the other way around.

I realized that in my own (REAL) life, I often think that I need my husband to confirm that I am in fact his queen before I see myself that way. I wondered, "If it weren't for that confirmation, would I still feel worthy?" I thought of the many different ways that we women count on the men in our lives for validation. Would I bother dressing up if I didn't want him to tell me that he thinks I'm pretty? Would my goals be the same if I didn't always have it in the back of my mind that I am HALF of a couple? Where along the line did we decide that we needed someone to "complete" us? (Thanks Jerry McGuire!)

Just this last Valentine's Day, Dustin brought home a rose & a box of Sweethearts for Brooke. This bothered me at first because she was the only one out of our four kids that he brought something home for. When I told him that I was afraid that he would hurt the boys' feelings, he told me that they need to learn that Valentine's is about men pampering women. Just like Brooke needs to learn that as a female, she deserves to be treated a certain way. If little girls grow up to marry men like their daddies, then he wants to treat her like a princess & set the bar high.

As a woman, this made me feel both lucky to have a husband that values women and equally terrified that we would create a monster. I don't want my daughter to have entitlement issues or to just expect to always have a man to take care of her. After all, life is what happens while you're busy planning for other things (John Lennon). We have no idea how her story will play out. I desperately want her to be strong enough to handle whatever comes her way as a SINGLE princess (as she put it.) If she ends up with a fabulous prince charming, then that's just gravy.

Following this line of thought, I got scared that I had been a horrible role model to her. While I still solidly believe that the greatest gift a father can give his children is to truly love their mother, had I somehow (by being a stay-at-home mom that could possibly be a little spoiled by my husband) have communicated to my kids that women NEED to be spoiled? I suddenly felt the urge to prove to them all just how strong I really was. I wanted them to know once and for all that their daddy and I treat each other the way we do because we enjoy being nice to each other, not because we think the other person is weak or incapable of taking care of them self. Sure, I'd RATHER bake cookies while he changes the oil on the car, but do I really want my daughter to think that she doesn't need to know how to do "guy stuff" since her mom never did?

My mind went on like this for a while. Then, I realized something else. Dustin & I haven't always been this nice to each other. Even though we've been married for so long now that it seems like forever ago, the reality is that the first several years of our marriage were TOUGH and we had to learn to treat each other with love and respect. We got married when Dustin was 19 and I was 17. Nineteen year old boys aren't necessarily ready to be good husbands yet. Seventeen year old girls aren't mature enough to be great wives. Dustin doesn't go out of his way to take care of me because that's the way it's always been. It's a dynamic that we created & grew into. Suddenly, I didn't feel so worried anymore, because looking at it from that perspective, I felt more like I'd EARNED my crown as Queen.

Our relationship isn't a fairytale full of romance and white horses. It's maybe 20% romance and more like 80% action to keep the romance alive. I was scared that we were setting our kids up for disappointment by letting them think that there was such a thing as happily ever after in this modern day & age. I'm glad that what they're actually seeing is that you have to work REALLY hard at whatever you do, including love. And I'm okay with letting my daughter think that she can grow up to be a princess (as long as that means she believes that she deserves true happiness and understands that she has the power to slay whatever fire breathing dragons stand in her way by herself.)

Desperately Seeking Skinny Pants: Wedding Dress Shopping + A CONTEST!!!

Desperately Seeking Skinny Pants: Wedding Dress Shopping + A CONTEST!!!

Spring Break

Worst. Spring break. EVER.

It should NEVER snow on spring break! There should not be hailstorms. Or high wind warnings. My yard should not be so engorged with water that when I step on the spongy grass, I sink in and am douched with mud and water above my ankles. Spring break should be about trading in winter boots for cute, strappy sandals. My kids should be running around outside & picking daffodils. After they spent 10 minutes outside, I had to make them all hot cocoa. This is not right.

I know that I have officially entered "mom zone" because what I was most excited about going into spring break was organizing stuff. I made this handy dandy chart in which the plan to spring clean something each day was layed out. It was a thing of beauty. Some of it has gotten done. Some more of it has not. My poor, poor children. Here they are on spring break, the weather stinks and the conditions indoors (with mom nagging them to clean out their closet) aren't much better. They don't sound too disappointed when we talk about school starting back up on Monday.

Last night Dustin was flipping through the channels and he paused on a reality show with hundreds of bikini clad college kids partying on some tropical beach. I asked him, "Why does their spring break look funner than ours?" Maybe it's because it's WARM where they are. It's 33 degrees here right now. Brrr-

Out Of The Mouth Of Babes

My friend forwarded me this little gem:













1stgrade school teacher had twenty-six students in her class. She presented each child in her classroom the 1st half of a well-known proverb and asked them to come up with the remainder of the proverb. It's hard to believe these were actually done by first graders. Their insight may surprise you. While reading, keep in mind that these are first-graders, 6-year-olds, because the last one is a classic!




1.
Don't change horses
until they stop running.

2.
Strike while the
bug is close.

3.
It's always darkest before
Daylight Saving Time.

4.
Never underestimate the power of
termites.

5..
You can lead a horse to water but
How?

6.
Don't bite the hand that
looks dirty.

7.
No news is
impossible

8.
A miss is as good as a
Mr.

9.
You can't teach an old dog new
Math

10.
If you lie down with dogs, you'll
stink in the morning.

11.
Love all, trust
Me.

12.
The pen is mightier than the
pigs.

13.
An idle mind is
the best way to relax.

14..
Where there's smoke there's
pollution.

15.
Happy the bride who
gets all the presents.

16.
A penny saved is
not much.

17.
Two's company, three's
the Musketeers.

18.
Don't put off till tomorrow what
you put on to go to bed.

19.
Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and
You have to blow your nose.

20.
There are none so blind as
Stevie Wonder.

21.
Children should be seen and not
spanked or grounded.

22.
If at first you don't succeed
get new batteries.

23.
You get out of something only what you

See in the picture on the box

24..
When the blind lead the blind
get out of the way.

25.
A bird in the hand
is going to poop on you.





And the WINNER and last one!




26
Better late than
Pregnant









--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crazy, Tragic, Almost Magic...

I love this crazy loco life. Where do I begin?


Hmmm... we ALMOST traded in our car this week. For those of you not in the know, we're all kinds of crazy upside down on our car. We bought it new. Then, my kids jumped full force into thrashing it with all their might. There's a scratch that circles the entire car right at the same height of my son's handle bars on his bike. It's been puked in, peed in, I've lost track of the amount of spills... (WHY do teachers always send home these adorable little seedlings in yogurt containers full of wet potting soil?) I was detailing it in preparation for the trade in and I thought, "If my car knew that it was going to a better family it would probably clean itself."

So, we should have known better when a dealer in Seattle told us he could swing us an AMAZING deal that sounded too good to be true. Take the trade in? Sure, no problem! You don't want to put a down payment? None needed! Oh yeah, we have several vehicles that match what you're looking for and cheap too! We faxed him all of our paperwork and he said we were pre-approved & the monthly payments would be less than our current car payment. We made the hour and a half drive to the "big city" as soon as we loaded the kids on to the school bus on Tuesday.

We were excited to hurry out and see the vehicles in person when we got there, but he whisked us into his office promising we could check the inventory out later. He set a sizable pile of paperwork in front of us. We didn't quite understand why he wanted us to fill out the same papers twice if we were already preapproved but whatever... Then he asked how much we wanted to put down. We reminded him that he had said zero down. He alternated between making no eye contact and long, blinkless, creepy amounts of eye contact. He explained that he couldn't take the car as a trade in unless we put a big down payment AND tacked the difference on to the next loan resulting in gigantic monthly payments.

"Okay, no thanks then." we said and prepared to go home.

Then, he changed his story. All of the sudden, he COULD give us the original deal he had promised. He finally agreed to let us see some vehicles. Now, on the Internet they had a whole other inventory than the one we were now seeing. We were supposed to believe that all of the mini-vans that we had seen online had magically been sold the night before. (In this economy? ALL of them just like that? Yeah, right.) We test drove a few (although the salesman preferred to just circle the block. Good sign there...) He was desperately trying to talk us into an Excursion and while I totally dug the fact that it had NINE seats, that whole 8 miles per gallon thing wasn't cutting it. Not to mention, it was a diesel and diesel currently costs more than gas, so... no deal! Then, we test drove my dream car. It was a GORGEOUS, fully loaded Yukon with 8 seats, flip down DVD player, Bose stereo system... I could go on. I wanted it. BAD. Suddenly, I didn't care about gas mileage anymore. I was chanting, "I don't drive much anyway." in my head. I'm a stay at home mom. No need to commute = no need for commuter car, right?

So, it was a very sad day when the dealer said that the only way that we could finance the Yukon was if we keep the car. I sat there crunching numbers in my head, trying to justify having both vehicle payments. Sure, one of them would just be sitting there unused most of the time, but... what's paying a few hundred dollars a month for a vehicle you don't even drive, right? I'd put a for sale sign on the car, but once again... Same reason we can't trade it in: no one's gonna be willing to pay enough to balance out what we owe on it.

That dealer though... Man, was he persistent. He had a whole bunch of ideas up his sleeve for how we could "make it work". One of them included a series of bounced checks. No kidding. Now, ordinarily, there's a certain amount of people skills required to work with the public. Alienating your customers is typically frowned upon. I think this guy considered that part of Sales 101 though. He basically called us stupid right to our faces for not agreeing that his plans were genius. The hubby and I went over our budget and discussed in depth what we could cut and what we couldn't. The dealer (a divorced bachelor) insisted that we didn't need to spend so much on groceries and household items. Apparently, he didn't realize that there is in fact a different dollar amount for a family of six than for a family of one. He actually said, "You couldn't possibly spend that much on laundry soap and toilet paper each month. Just buy one ply." I have 4 kids. One ply or not, Costco sized cases of TP are a big expense around here.

In the end, the reality was that we really need to be putting money in savings and stocking up on food storage, etc. Slapping a few thousand down for a down payment and dishing out an extra car payment each month felt a little like standing in the middle of a windstorm with a pile of cash in the palm of my open hand. Hours into our negotiations the hubby and I looked at each other and said, "Let's go." and stood up and walked toward our car. Our burden. Our learning experience. Our dependable, fuel efficient little car full of scars to remember by. The dealer followed us, screaming like an angry toddler that didn't get his way, "I thought you wanted a bigger vehicle! Good luck cramming your family into that thing! Thanks for wasting my time!" I expected to be disappointed on that car ride home, but it was the opposite. I was proud that we had made the right choice. We laughed like crazy at the lunacy of that car dealer that was most likely a coke head from the look of things. And we were content in the knowledge that we actually already had what we needed and that life isn't about getting what you want but appreciating that you have what you need.

Goodnight Sweetheart...

I just love the phenomenon that is bedtime. No other time of day (although trying to get out the door to school is a close second) can get me so riled up. Okay, homework time gets under my skin too. (Wow, what's happening to me? I used to be so CALM...) Well, anyway... You know, it's not the going to bed part that's so upsetting. That part is glorious. It's the fact that my kids know just how to pull my strings and I fall for it every time. I mean, seriously, all 4 kids just HAVE to get out of bed to have a BM as soon as I've tucked them in every night? Then there are the drinks... and somebody always cries that they're starving... and don't forget the monsters. Brooke won't rest until I've checked out every shadow, nook, and cranny in her bed room & said double prayers to make sure those evil monsters and bad guys won't get her. I put them to bed at eight and here it is quarter after nine and guess what? I don't hear snoring. None. I would really be berating myself about this if it weren't for the fact that this is so classic. I know we're not the only home in America with kids who try to push the bedtime limits. I sure tried it with my mom. But still... Can't a mom get some peace?

A Stalker & A Thief

I have been watching you. Sure, occasionally I leave a comment and let you know that I was there. Most of the time though, I just silently stalk. I laugh out loud, but mostly in my head. If you don't have a good stat tracker, you probably don't even realize that I was there at all. Creepy, right?

I've been trying to post something so that you could come by and silently (but preferably loudly) stalk me too. I told myself that I wasn't going to post anything until I thought of something REALLY funny though. Thing is, you can't force funny. What's the saying? A watched pot never boils? Yeah, same thing. When I try to be funny, all that comes out is my feelings on politics and the economy & book reviews. Yawn.

So, I've been reading your stuff and cracking up. Laughter is such good therapy. And I REALLY need therapy. I feel like such a taker. I just take, take, take, take, take, take, take... (in my head take is pronounced to sound like that Pac-Man sound. Can you hear it?) I was over at Melissa's blog & decided to steal this idea:

She googled her name with the word Luckily in front of it. So, being the taker I am, I did too and came up with this:

Luckily, Natalie underwent a haircut and scrubbed up pretty well.

Well, thank goodness! You can all thank me later.

Natalie has a robe on at the start of this set, but it doesn’t stay on for long! ;). Luckily Natalie is a pro at hiding her nipples!

That's what happens when you breastfed 4 kids for over a year each. You become a pro at hiding those babies!

Luckily, Natalie isn't the only person in the group having problems. Charlye is being criticized for unlearning how to dance overnight which brings us back ...

I'm glad I'm not the only one and Charlye, I'll just dance right next to you to make you look good, okay?

Luckily, Natalie's very cool and didn't bat an eye when the person behind her cut off mid-hum and dropped the f-bomb with an angry shriek. ...

Yeah, I'm cool like that. I'd like to thank my husband for desensitizing me to that word so that I don't have to even bat an eye anymore.


No - but later in the show they had Natalie receiving messages from the deer head hanging on the wall. Luckily Chelsia can't kill the deer. ...

What you guys didn't know that I could communicate with taxidermy animals? I'm planning on getting my own reality show about it.

Luckily...Natalie noticed a police officer walk in.) Natalie- "Officer...we would really love some pizza. Could you please drive us to the Get 'N' Go?" ...

I have those boys in blue wrapped around my little finger.

Luckily, Natalie didn't see me because that would have led her to our camp site. Not good. I have to admit Natalie camping next to us was rather amusing. ...

I hear that I have that effect on my fellow campers. I'm not sure if it's the fact that my kids can put the tent up better than I can or that I accidentally use cascara branches to roast marshmallows on...

Luckily its already written. You get to meet Natalie's insane mother (this should be fun). ...

Well, where did you think I got it from anyway?



Thanks, Melissa! And the rest of you keep being funny so I can steal stuff from you too.

To Thine Own Self Be True

So, the truth is that I have always secretly cringed a little bit when someone makes a comment about "finding themselves". It's not that I have any problem with the concept of knowing yourself, on the contrary... I've never "got" why people didn't know themselves to begin with. For instance... treking around Europe. Sounds like a fun-filled adventure, but WHY call it "finding yourself", you know? Did you really not have any clue of who you were in America? You're with yourself 24/7, all up in your own head and it takes some sort of catalyst to help you discover the person that's been there the whole time? That said, I'm actually starting to "get" it a little. Even though I've always had a strong sense of self and have never had the urge to go searching for Natalie, I've gotta say that this year I've sort of begun to come into my own more than ever.

A while ago, I blogged about this underlying sense that something was off / wrong / going to happen. Let's just say that A LOT has happened, most of which I unfortunately can't blog about because of other people's privacy, etc. HATE that! It's funny how when you frame your life in a different light things start to look a little different. If I had gone on forever without anything rocking the boat, I may never have realized certain things. For starters, what I will & won't settle for. Sure, I've always known my likes / dislikes. It's just that when you're stuck in a rut, you don't always notice what is dispensable & what you are willing to fight to the end for. It's all just sort of THERE. Like white noise.

While I certainly haven't had an epiphany of near death magnitude or anything, I can definitely say that I know now that I have neglected a lot of things over the years. One of the safer subjects to use as an example is my health. I didn't set off in to my twenties thinking, "I want to put on some weight!" I just let it happen. A night of sitting on my butt watching movies and eating Ben & Jerry's here, a day of taking the kids to the park and sitting on a bench reading while they played instead of running around myself and then stopping for an ice cream cone on the way home there... 5 or 10 lbs. a year sneaks up you like a thief in the night. And even though my actions (like bringing the fork to the mouth) were big contributors, my biggest problem was my INACTION. You see, I am nothing if not complacent. I am practically a professional at compromising, making excuses, and letting things roll off my back.

One of the first steps to success is a word director's say all the time: Action!

I've decided that my 30th birthday present to myself is going to be becoming more pro-active. I feel like, "Heck, I'm turning 30. I'm mature. There's no reason to allow negativity in my life when I'm capable of doing something about it." So, I'm going to speak up when things don't sit right with me. I'm going to take care of my self mentally, spiritually, and physically. Life's too short to not be true to yourself.

A Wee Irish Lass

I LOVE interesting questions. For instance, someone asked me why I updated my blog in celebration of St. Patrick's day after writing an anti-Valentine's post (as if I am anti- all non major Holidays.) Interesting observation. You see, I LIKE St. Patrick's Day. In all honesty, I really like all things Irish, but that's neither here nor there. Growing up with red hair, I always loved throwing on some green for St. Patrick's Day and feeling sorta leprechaunish (except for that one year when I decided to skip the green since I thought getting pinched sounded fun. Hindsight is 20/20.) My love grew a few years ago when I was homeschooling Lane.

Homeschooling was a big adventure. I wasn't sure if I was capable, but even his teacher suggested I try it since conventional schooling wasn't working for him whatsoever. Going into it, I knew that if I depended on workbooks and pencil and paper learning it was going to be a wash. I had to make it more interesting for him. So, I got really into themes & tried to make learning a big game. Towards the end of February, we began our unit on Ireland. For a month, I printed out what worksheets we did use on green paper. I sent away for posters and maps from Ireland's tourism industry. We researched how kids in Ireland did school and we pretended like we were a schoolhouse in Ireland when we were doing our work. Required reading was any book that took place in Ireland (you can ALWAYS count on Magic Treehouse to have something geared towards the elementary school set that fits in with your theme thank goodness!) All of our story problems were about Irish things like: If the O'Malley's have 4 lbs. of potatoes and...


The Grand Summit of our theme was when we made a traditional St. Patrick's day dinner & invited his grandparents over for it. All week leading up to the dinner, we worked on our menu. Math was doing cost comparisons to see which grocery store was the best place to get our supplies and then figuring out how much we needed to buy & how much it was all going to cost to make an Irish dinner for 8 people (answer: super cheap!) Then, we mixed & measured & poured. We had fun sampling a variety of cheeses and herb butters that are traditional in Ireland with our corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes (and green kool-aid, of course, however nontraditional that may be.) Then, Lane presented his report on the history and geography of Ireland. It was a lot of fun.

We're not homeschooling anymore and I have to say, when something like St. Patty's day rolls around and reminds me of how much fun we had I sort of miss it. I guess I could try to incorporate more of those semi-educational experiences in our day to day life, but public school already takes up so much time & energy. There really is something magical about homeschooling.