Motherhood Is Good For Self Esteem

Before church conversation:
Makell: "Where is your makeup?"
Me: (I lean in close to her face) "It's on me."
Makell: "Hmmm."

After church conversation:
Me: sitting on the couch next to Makell
Makell: "So, was that skirt made in the old fashioned days?"
Me: No, it was made at Ann Taylor LAST YEAR!

Motherhood should be an Olympic Sport.

Quote Of The Week

"So...like...this boy went into the bathroom and showed someone his wiener."

Kindergarten is so awesome.

Worry

I'm a worrier. It's what I do. All the time. I came this way from heaven, so its not my fault. It can't possibly be my fault, because then I'd be just a crazy wingnut or somethin', and for surely that can't be the case. Anyway...if I love you, I worry about you. Plain and simple. Sometimes I can get so neurotic about my worry, that I start to fret over people I don't even like. I think its a gene default.

I reserve a large chunk of my brain for my worrying. I can even plan ahead on what I'm going to worry about on which day. I'm just super smart that way. But over the last 48 hrs., my sister has taken up the entire worry chunk (the other small brain chunk is reserved to figure out which shoes I am going to wear if it rains). She has pushed me to the brink, and I've had it! She has to stop or I'm going to sit on her. These are the events that have fraught me silly: Labor and delivery visit for preterm labor contractions (27 wks., with twins)-given medicine to slow contractions-the next morning she is in the kitchen and passes out and falls on the floor!-back to the hospital again-medicine lowered her blood pressure too much. No panic needed, all is well with her and her incubating bundles. I talked to her last night and she was carefree and jovial. She said the babies are fine, so there is no need to worry. What!? Fraught, fraught, fraught with worry I am. Maybe she's the wingnut, not me....ya, I think that's it.

Emily has taken up my entire worry chunck for the last 2 days. Now I'm backlogged. My worry has been incessant today because I'm trying to catch up. Its going to be a busy weekend. So much to worry about.....

Ode To Zeb

Dear Zeb,

I just needed to thank you for washing my hair. It was glorious. Getting my hair cut is the highlight of my month, simply because of the hair washing experience. You filled a need today. At first I was a little leery of you because of your mohawk. But ya know, the pink highlights you've added really give you a softer edge. And, I did spend a brief moment admiring the tattoo on your arm. It's such a pretty sword. Lovely artwork. Oh, and I did happen to notice that fantastic chain you were wearing on your pants. I'm going to look into that, I think it might be just the right bling I need for church.

Dearest Zeb, thank you for massaging my head and neck. My shampoo experience was so great that I think I might love you. Not love-love you, because that would be weird. Just a hug-you-till-it-hurts love. You have nice hands, great for shampooing. Todd has great hands too, he was a farmer after all. But, he is so selfish with his hands. You know, in a pretty boy kind of way. He has never once shampooed my hair.

I just had to write this ode to you, Zeb. I'll be back in a couple of weeks. Don't get anything else pierced, because I might not recognize you. Thank you for my hair experience.

Speechless

Do you think that in the history of 'First Days of School', that there has ever been a mother who fell over unconscious when her kids stepped onto the bus? I'm sure there is a record somewhere. Or, maybe they don't keep a record because the list would have a gazillion names on it.

Yesterday was the first day of school, and by golly it was fantastic. For the first time in 12 years, EVERYONE went to school!....let me pause for a second and steady myself before I fall over....I couldn't even post these pictures yesterday because I was so wrapped up in all the quietness. Freakishly quiet. I could actually think--hello!, do you know how great that is? I think I had forgotten that I could use my immense intelligence to do something other than yelling (uh, I mean, tenderly speaking) at my kids.


School is a gift from Jesus to all mothers. He knows our job is hard, so what does He do? He sends them off to school. But, I have decided that Jesus loves mothers in Texas more than mothers in Utah. Here, in the Lone Star state, He gave me ALL DAY Kindergarten.

What am I going to do with myself now, you ask? This is what I've come up with so far: pee by myself (such a new experience), read my People magazine (uh, I mean, the Ensign) on the couch instead of hiding in my closet, turn the TV to a show that has grown-ups in it, clean the kitchen--and it will stay clean!, beg Todd to come home so we can go to a movie.

The possibilities are endless. I'm speechless. I have glee.
I'm off to enjoy my quiet....

1 Year

Several years ago, I was in a class where the speaker asked the question, "What is your favorite childhood memory?" This is mine:

This rusted wheelbarrow means more to me than cupcakes or cute shoes. My dad used it when we were growing up. When we first moved to Utah, he had to clear all the rocks from our front yard so that he could plant grass. He would pile the rocks in this wheelbarrow and then walk them down to the end of the subdivision to dump them. He would let me ride on the top of the rocks. It was a long walk. On the return trip, I would ride in the empty wheelbarrow. That's my favorite childhood memory. My dad, me and this green wheelbarrow, on a long walk together.

One year ago today, at 9:45 am, my world changed forever. Changed directions. Tilted off its axis. My dad had to go, and we had to watch him leave. Memories that are so vivid they feel like they will swallow me. I held his hand and watched him take his last breath. This giant of a man who carried me in the wheelbarrow, who called me everyday and was my best friend. In that moment, the deepest part of me went quiet. A sadness settled into that space and I imagine that it will always remain.

Life seems to take you on a path that you never intended to walk. Some of the experiences along the way add a heavy weight to the journey. There are days and even moments when, I just don't like the journey anymore. But I keep walking. Every mile or so, the weight starts to feel just a bit lighter, and then I realize......I am being carried in a wheelbarrow.

Just Like Moses

She fell asleep in a basket, just like Moses. Tormenting your sisters all day can really wear a girl out. I think she is too cute to send down the river in her basket, so I'll keep her....for now.

Zoloft Makes The World Go Round

Everyone should be medicated. It's my mantra. And all those people who think--no, they KNOW--they don't need to be medicated....you need it the most. Zoloft is for everyone. An equal opportunity employer. I think they should put it in the water. Just think what could happen if we medicated the terrorists. We don't have to torture them, just Zoloft them.

Today, Todd came home to tell me a story that fortifies my mantra. Todd works with Mary. Mary has a parrot. The parrot is afraid of thunder. The sound makes him pull his feathers out. Poor thing only has a strip of feathers running down his back. Everywhere else he has plucked clean. So, what does Mary do for her anxious parrot? She medicates him. Oh yes, the parrot takes Zoloft. Did you hear that last part? THE PARROT TAKES ZOLOFT!! As I type this I realize that I need to suggest to Mary that she also get him some psychological counseling. It always helps to self-talk through these kinds of things.

We all have times when we feel like the paranoid parrot. You know you do. When I hear my kids yell, "Mommmmm!", I immediately start to pull my feathers out. I know someone (no names here, but we sleep together) who gets anywhere near a bee, and he screams so hard that his feathers just fall right out. Oh, and then there is this other person (we call her 'the favorite') who plucks feathers out at a feverish pace if she is forced to chew gum. See...we all need to be medicated. Maybe we can get a bundle deal with the parrot when he goes to counseling. I definitely think I'm on to something here....

Oodles of Makell

I know you're excited by just reading her name. Your heart skips a beat when you see the word, 'Makell', because you can just feel that good entertainment is on the way. This is the very reason you read this blog, admit it. You patiently wait out the days just to see what she will do next. I just hold my breath and hope that she doesn't do anything that would involve the police.

Today I thought I would offer all Makell-lovers an update on some of her latest happenings--

• A few weeks ago, Todd was mowing the lawn and could hear little girl voices screaming at him. He searched to find the source of the sound. He found it high in the sky, as he looked up to Makell's SECOND-STORY bedroom window. Makell had opened the window to expose the screen that she had previously cut a hole in (who decides to cut a hole in their window screen!!?), so that she and Addie could poke their heads and LEAN THEIR BODIES out the window to tell Todd hello.
• On Sunday, Makell decided that she liked the taste of paper. For the entire length of sacrament meeting, she licked...yes, I said licked...pieces of paper until they were saturated with spit, and then she would rip them into small squares. I kept fighting with her to stop. The adults that were sitting behind us started giggling, which only added fuel to her spit fury. Her licking really picked up speed after that....
• I am standing at the customer service counter at Kohl's. Long line behind me. Makell decides to stand off to the side of the line and say 'hi' to each person standing there. If they respond to her hello, she (loudly) tells them that they are 'sweet'. If they ignore her, she (loudly) tells them that they are 'sour'. While this scene is occuring, I am trying to calmly talk to the man at the counter. Her sweet and sour charade starts to escalate. So, I pause and look at her and say, "so help me, if you don't knock it off, you're going home with the woman who is next in line." Without missing a beat, this woman gives a quick wink to Makell, who then respondes, "oh, you're sweet, I'd love to go home with you."
• Last night I couldn't get her to stop eating her hair. Well, not really eating, but sucking on it. Down right disgusting. After the 83rd time of asking her to stop, I turned to her and said, "why do you keep eating your hair?" Her response, "well, because it's delicious."
• While at the library, Makell spots a policeman. She skips right over to him and with great enthusiam asks, "hey, can I have your gun?"
  

These are just a few of the Makell stories of late. There are so many more, but I try to repress the memory of most of them. Keeping up with her can be quite a task. There are fleeting moments where I think about taking a nap, but then I remember where I live...the Loon Farm...and I drink another Pepsi instead.

Summer Wind Down

Summer is fading away, and so am I. I need a vacation from summer vacation. Here are our latest happenings....

Mad Science at the library

Children's Museum

Craft Day with friends

A New Job

My last child will be starting school in 11 days. In Texas, Kindergarten is ALL DAY (I type this with glee)! What to do with myself? Other than skip through the streets, I think I might like a job. Just a little one, with convenient hours. Somewhere I can wear cute clothes and lipgloss. I have pondered a few options, and this is what I have come up with so far:

• Hot Dog On A Stick. Its located in the mall-nice bonus. You can build your upper body strength while you punch away at making lemonade. And, I have a serious affection for the corn dog. My biggest deterent is the shorts. The outfits do look like a clown gone wrong, but I simply can't wear shorts. My legs are frighteningly white. Shockingly so. You wouldn't be able to tell where the yellow stripe ends and my leg begins.
• Target. I'm there anyway, might as well get paid. Biggest deterent here-the discount is only 10%....so I think I might resort to stealing stuff. What do you expect with only a 10% discount?!
• McDonalds. I have a major love affair with all things served at this fine establishment. But, the employees have to wear those ugly visors. Touching my hair is simply not permitted.
• A writer for Newsweek. I read this magazine, and I think they could use my perspective. But, I have a brother who rants that this magazine is only for liberal heathens. I think if I worked for them, he would kidnap me and hide me in a cellar until I promised to quit.
• A 'Sympathizer'. You know how you drive down the street and see a neon sign that reads, 'Psychic'? Well, my sign would read, 'Sympathizer'. I would have a lovely, cozy office with lots of cupcakes and hot chocolate. You could take a seat and, how shall I put this....whine...about your life. Lay it on me. Tell me how you really feel about your children. Tell me your frustrations, I'll understand. I'll whine with you. Then we will eat a cupcake together and you'll feel better.

If you have any thoughts on the perfect job for me, feel free to pass them along. For now, I think that Sympathizer is at the top of the list. Within the next week I'm going to look for office space...and a neon sign.

Where Did The Time Fly?

School doesn't start for 12 more days...not that I'm counting! But today was textbook/laptop day at the junior high. Here she is, all decked out. Spirit shirt, 5 huge textbooks that weigh more than she does, and a new laptop backpack. Each child at her junior high receives a laptop. All textbooks are loaded on, homework is completed on the laptop and then emailed to the teacher. Huh? Really? I still remember my type class on a manual typewriter in junior high. I was a top performer. I had lightning speed with that manual carriage return.

Time flew by somewhere between there and now here. Typewriters to laptops, worlds apart, and yet they somehow look the same. 12 more days...not that I'm counting. But then again, looking at her on the brink of more independence, maybe I am.

Will Never Depart

When you have children, church is an exercise in patience. Longsuffering comes to mind. Some Sundays I feel like I am at battle with untamed lions. Cute ones, with their hair done. I sat in church and pondered this tidbit today. Week after week, I put on a darling skirt, paint my toenails, all in preparation for a faceoff with the lions. I looked around and realized that everyone has their own set of lions to deal with, and in spite of that fact, we were sitting there together. We love the Lord, and so we come. We also dearly love the untamed lions.

I realized today that the inspiration I receive each Sunday usually comes in a small snipet here and there. It comes when the lions are calm for 3.5 seconds, and I can actually hear what is being said. It comes because I want to hear it. In fact, I'm looking for it. Here is what I saw today:

• Three young women sang an amazing song, I could have listened to them sing for days. They repeated a phrase that stuck itself inside my thoughts, "My kindness will not depart". It made me look at all the ways the Lord tells me that He is intimately aware of all I face, and a lot of the time He shows me through the kindness of others. He might not remove my trials, or even make them lighter, but He sends kindess into my life, and it will never depart.
• One of our primary teachers is dying from breast cancer. She has 12 children. Her pain is immense and requires high doses of morphine. And here she sits in primary, with her cute class all around her. She is smiling. Her lesson to me will never depart.

So, the next time you are sitting in church with your untamed lions, just remember to look for those snipets. There they are, just waiting for you to see them. The gospel is true, and the Lord loves us enough to send us His kindness.....and it will never depart.

Two Words

I have two words for you--'School Shopping'. Who knew that two little words could send a shiver a fear through your body? School shopping is a painful experience. I think I'd rather be tasered.

We bought school shoes yesterday. Again, I repeat, I'd rather be tasered. The first problem with school shopping is that it always occurs in August, the month where you have finally reached the peak of your patience with summer vacation. You can feel the tension in the air. I looked at all the other mothers at Target and realized that at any moment, one of us could snap.

Why is it that children argue and fight while you force them to try things on? Good heavens, I'm spending money on you, and I have to fight with you about it!! Hello!? I did have the thought yesterday that we should have been pioneers. They only owned two shirts.

Here is a glimpse of the scene in the shoe isles--Addison is doing cartwheels, Makell is racing with the shopping cart, and Sam is whining that I won't buy her strappy high heeled sandals for school--she adamantly exclaims, "I can totally wear these in gym class." The insanity reached high levels, and I had visions of popping their heads right off. Not all the way off of course. Just like a Pez dispenser. Long enough to find some serenity.

I think I need valium. Buckets of it. I'll share with all the other mothers at Target.

Thinking Outside The Box

I swear she gets her genius from me.....

We're Hunkered

Tropical Storm Eduardo is upon us. He has been nice to us and lowered the temperature to a reasonable level. Thank you Eduardo.

For the last couple of days the news stations have adamantly told me to get prepared. So, I asked around. "What exactly am I supposed to do to be prepared?" I received various responses:

• "Tropical storm winds are only about 60 miles an hour, no big deal. Just make sure you have water and batteries." OK. What exactly are the batteries for? I'm assuming they are for my TV remote. Whew.
• "Bring in everything from outside." "Oh, you mean, my kids bikes?" "No, I mean you're patio furniture." Huh.

I went to the store yesterday to make sure we are stocked with essentials. I picked up an extra large bag of peanut M&Ms, licorice, Hershey bars, toothbrushes, cheeze-its, and bread. Oh, and I grabbed a pack of gatorade on the way to the check out. Once I had all my candy in my cart, I felt secure.

Now we're hunkered down, and I am oh so prepared. Todd's employer told everyone to stay home. It is so fantastic to have someone else referee the craziness around here. There is a downside though, he keeps following me around and turning off the lights in every room I have stepped into. Dang irritating. When I'm hunkered down, I would like some lights on! Within the hour, he and I are going to have a come-to-Jesus discussion.

So, don't fret over us. Wind, rain and peanut M&Ms. All is well....

Obsession

Did you know that there is an 11th commandment? You didn't? It's in the fine print, so it's very hard to see. Those tablets are so difficult to read. I'll list it for you here--"Thou shalt NOT pray for thy spouse to become a vampire." I know, don't be sad. This happens every time I read one of these books--I become obsessed. I find myself saying my prayers at night and asking for Todd to turn into a vampire. When I wake up in the morning...there he is, still farmer Todd who loves expensive shoes. I like farmers, but they're so...you know....mortal.

I know you're obsessed just as much as I am. Admit it. It's unhealthy, but so is eating cake batter for dinner. I know you're reading. You don't want to read too much, because then it will end, but then you can't put it down. It's OK, I understand. So, shew. Go read. Try to forget that 11th commandment, no one ever reads the fine print anyway.

Sister Day

Several years ago, we started a tradition of having 'Sister Day' on August 1. It's a day that I force these girls to celebrate having each other. This morning I told them to hug and kiss each other and they looked repulsed. Ah, such love. On Sister Day we have lots of fun and I tell them that they can't fight with each other (that lasted 0.08 milliseconds today).

We went to a glow-in-the dark miniature golf course. It was serious fun. We had lunch at the mall, bought a few school clothes, and I listened to Samantha ask me over and over again why she can't wear a padded bra. I guess my explanation of "you don't have any boobs", just didn't cut it.


You know, there are those few moments (usually late at night, when they are asleep) that I just look at these 3 faces and realize that I need these little people in my life. I need them just like I need air to breathe. They are the essence of who I am.

***
Before typing this post, I dropped Addie off at a friends house to play. As soon as she stepped out of the car, all the tension just drained right out of my body. I think because I was so relaxed, I was able to really look at these pictures with loving eyes.

Addie just called me on the phone (she has been gone for a total of 18 minutes)-- "Ya, mom. So...like...I'm just really missing you and we are going to come and play at our house."

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY! Are you kidding me? I think this girl has some internal alarm that tells her that I am sitting quietly by myself. How dare she allow that to happen.

For the remainder of Sister Day, I going to rub my genie lamp and try to conjure up my sister to come and watch over my flock so that I can run to a place far, far away.