Young Nana

Happy Birthday to the best mom ever.
I love you.

Behold Our Bounty

Before you start your applause, you should know that this is our second harvest. Our first picking produced 3 peas. This time around we doubled our yield. Impressive, I know. We had a feast with these peas. Stuffed ourselves silly.

Before you get jealous of our gardening skills, you must remember that I married a farmer. That gives us an advantage. He doesn't look like a farmer on the outside. But when you peel away those Banana Republic shirts, the Cole Haan shoes and the salon styled hair, there is a guy that loves plants. It's quite cute actually. The first thing he does when he comes home from work, is a plant check up. I watch him from the window sometimes. He's out there in his office attire checking on all his green foliage. Toiling away. I secretly think he lays in bed at night wondering about which plants aren't doing well. So tender.

When our third harvest comes around, I'll probably need to invite some of you over. Our bounty may be abundant. What if we actually get 20 peas? That'd just be crazy.

Driving To Church

Along the way to church yesterday, I am pulled over by a police man. Todd is in the passenger seat and tells the kids that the cop saw them standing up in the back and now he is going to hall them away. Addie becomes terrified, Makell is thrilled.

Police officer: "Ma'am, were you aware that you're brake light is out?"

Me: "No. But I'm sure the kids did it."

Police officer smiles slightly.

Me: "I saw you smirk, which means that you have kids and you know I'm right."

Police Officer: "Do you have your license and registration?"

Me: "See, here's the thing--I don't."

Police Officer: "You don't have you're license?"

Me: "Nope. But I'll bet you can look me up."

Police Officer looks in the back at my girls who are asking him if he has a gun and giggling.

Me: "Alright, let's make a deal. You can write me a ticket for ANY offense for ANY size fine, if you will just take one kid."

Police Officer starts giggling (how often does that happen)...."I'll be right back ma'am."

Police Officer returns with his notepad--"OK, I'm going to give you two warnings. Just sign here by the X."

Me: "So, once I sign, that means you're taking a kid. Right?"

Again, he giggles. Then, Makell proceeds to shove her head out the window and say, "I like to drive fast, I'll go with you." Now the police officer stares in silence. While he is staring at Makell, Addie pushes forward and says, "hey, how come you have on a cowboy hat?" Police officer tips his hat at her and says, "it's part of my outfit".

Me: "Now do you see why I want you to take a kid?"

Police Officer: "Enjoy the rest of your day ma'am."

As we pull away and start driving, I here Makell say, "he's sweet." And Addie responds, "ya, not sour."

The Sad Truth

So, here it is...I'm thinking about (clench my teeth) exercising. Pause for gasp. You know how I feel about spandex and sweating. It's ridiculous. Insane. Kinda' like those people who limit their sugar intake. I hate exercising. I mean, really hate. I feel like its a waste of my time when I could be doing other things, like sitting. But alas, I think I am reaching the age where I'm going to have to actually find the key to the treadmill.

This exercising notion started months ago. I tried to shake the thoughts from my head, but that just made my hair messy. See, my brothers have both run marathons within the last year. They are not the 'running' type of people. They are well-built. Squishy around the edges. I've never seen either of them in their spandex outfits. Just the visual makes me hold my stomach for a second. Just kidding. Maybe. If they can run, then maybe I could give it a try.

I've realized lately that at some point I have got to try and be a healthy person. I don't take vitamins because they make my hair grow too fast. Then I have to get it cut more often. I'm only slightly fond of vegetables. It's like eating air. And I bake. A lot. So, if I'm going to be healthy I need to exercise or cut back on my desserts. Again, pause for gasp. We all know the later is simply not an option. I'd rather cut off a couple toes before I ever did that.

I've started looking at my treadmill. It makes me feel healthy already. I think that next week I might even be bold enough to touch it. Maybe in a month or so I will actually move it away from the wall. Baby steps. Who knows, maybe by this time next year I will have stepped on it. No promises. I think I'll start out walking really slow. That way I won't sweat. Tiny. Baby. Steps.

20% Mine

Sam has been asking me for weeks to come and eat lunch with her. The first time she offered up the idea, I was a little stunned. "Do other parents come eat lunch at your JUNIOR HIGH?" I asked. She responded, "of course, and they always bring McDonald's".

So, today we ate lunch. I sat with her and her giggling friends in a monstrous cafeteria filled with 6th graders. She pointed out the 'hot' boy she sits by and the mean girl that is 14 yrs. old and still in 6th grade. I watched her interact with her friends and use way too many eye rolls and animated hand movements. I have to admit, I even told her friends some embarrassing stories about her.

As lunch ended she gave me a kiss and a hug and then disappeared into a sea of backpacks. I watched as she was swallowed into the hallway. As she walked away I realized that she is 80% teenager and 20% mine. She argues and talks back and has an attitude that could stun a gorilla. But underneath all of that she is still willing to ask me to come to her junior high and eat lunch, and then give me a kiss on the way out.

I'm not sure how long the 20% will stick around. Some days it looks like it has vanished under her eye shadow. Then there are other days where she sits by me on the couch and rests her head on my shoulder. Those moments sustain me through the endless crying and "It's not fair!!"

But, what if she thinks the same thing about me? 80% of the time I'm downright annoying and strict. 20% of the time I'm likable. Which can't be right, because, let's just be honest here, I'm never annoying. Maybe a little grating. But never annoying. And at the end of the day, as I look at my first born, all I really see is 100% love. She gets all of it, for always.

Cutest Chores Ever!

I tend to revamp our chore charts every so often. The last couple of weeks I've realized I'm doing waaaay more work than I should be. I'm delicate. I need to conserve my energy for making desserts. With that in mind, I decided to make them stylish:


Each child has 2 clipboards (initials on the stars). One is for tracking everything for violin, the other is for the chores around here that I'm going to yell at them to do every day. I have a standard chore chart that I print each week and they mark off what is completed each day. The clipboards were $1 at Walmart. I looped a ribbon through the bracket and hung from a nail. I bought inexpensive (and thin) stars at the craft store and painted them. I hot glued them directly onto the nail head. Who knew that crazy cute could come so cheap. These clipboards turned out so dang cute, I just know my girls will work with a smile now. Right?

It Is Risen!

You can stop you're fretting. My computer has risen from the dead. Shout praises of joy! I am back among my worldly fellows. The cute boy at the Genius Bar fixed it. And get this, his name was Jesus. Let me just repeat that, his name was Jesus. I'm not sure his latin heritage pronounces it they way I do, but I saw it as a sign. Heaven knew I needed to be connected to the internet and so I found a miracle at the Apple store. I told Jesus that I loved him. He told me to calm down. I did. But I'm thinking about making him brownies tomorrow. I'm pretty sure Jesus likes chocolate.

Ailing

I'm suffering over here. I've been boo hooing righteous tears for two days straight. Pretty soon I'm going to start wailing. I'm not kidding.

I'm in quite the pickle with my teeth. One tooth in particular. I've been to two dental appointments this week already. The consensus is I might need a root canal. On a tooth that has already had. a. root. canal! It's ridiculous. This news comes after I just paid to have a crown put on a different tooth. Every time I open my mouth, I have to pay the dentist $500. I'm thinking I should just keep my mouth shut. Man, wouldn't that just be Todd's lucky day.

I'm on some crazy strong antibiotic. I decided to read the side effects paper this morning. It listed a section that began with 'WARNING!', which I thought was super interesting. Then it went on to describe how this medicine can cause diarrehea so severe that it can be fatal. What the?! Honestly? I had no idea you can die from diarrehea, did you? Note to Todd--if I meet an untimely death and diarrehea is the cause, please don't tell anyone. Tell our family and friends that I withered away in service to others and so I was translated. Like Enoch.

****

My computer is dead. At this very moment I am typing on my mom's computer. She has a PC. I own a MAC. Just using her keyboard feels like a betrayal of some sort. Todd has tried to work his magic and got nothin'. I've tried speaking kind words to my computer, I've prayed for it and I might have even promised to make it brownies. But alas, nothing has worked. I now have to take it to the 'Genius Bar' at the Apple store. Does it make me a moron if I have to go to the genius bar?

I have realized something over these last 2 days without internet access--I am of the world. It's true. I have nibbled my nails down to nubs just fretting over reading my email and catching up on all my blogs. I don't think I've slept well either. Without sitting at my computer, I've had all this free time that I've had to like clean the bathrooms and stuff. So irritating. Yup. Of the world. I hope this doesn't change my status for when I'm translated.

Happy Hoppy

The Scriptures Called

**The phone rings. It's for Addie. She starts chatting away...**

Me: "Addison, who is on the phone?"

Addie: ignores me and keeps talking...

Me: "Addie. Tell me who is on the phone!"

Addie: "It's Ishmael."

Me: thought to myself--The prophet from the Book of Mormon is calling her?

Addie: "You know, Ishmael from my class."

Me: "You need to be finished talking on the phone now. You're 6."

Addie: speaking to Ishmael while rolling her eyes, "My mom says I gotta go." She hangs up.

Me: "How did he get your phone number?"

Addie: "I gave it to him."

Me: "You're in kindergarten. You don't give out your phone number."

Addie: "Well, I only have a little bit of friends and I need a lot of friends."

Me: "OK, honestly, you can't give out your phone number."

Addie. "Whatever."

Joy

Today is both Todd's birthday and my anniversary. Happy day. I give Todd a present for his birthday (like living with me isn't a gift enough), and then he gives me an anniversary present. It's a win-win situation for all.

Each year this day is always a sobering one. My memories of this day, 14 years ago, become so vivid, my blessings so bright. My wedding day felt surreal to me. A kind of 'pinch me because this can't be real' feeling. I couldn't believe that Todd had found me, or more importantly, waited for my life to be at a place where we could finally meet. For several years previous, my life had been quite unhappy. And then one day, Todd stepped into my world. He changed it forever. On my wedding day, I looked at him and simply couldn't believe I had found my soulmate, that the Lord had saved him just for me.

Marriage is work. Marriage is hard. But marriage is also joy. When you look right down into the core of it, all the work and the hard is encased in the joy. Daily life moves at lightning speed and I seem to spend all my time just trying to keep up with it all. Most of the time I feel like I'm treading water. But then there are those moments when I catch a glimpse of Todd and I am brought back to this day, 14 years ago. And for that moment, all I can see is joy. Eternal joy.

Happy Birthday/Anniversary Nescau. Love Always.

Flat Stanley

My cousin Candice has 1st grader who read the book, Flat Stanley, in his class. Each student made his own Stanley at the beginning of the school year and then sent him off to travel. Flat Stanley is only allowed to stay with you for a week and then you send him off to his next home. The little man has been at our house for the last week. He has been exceptionally busy. He played tetherball. We think he liked it, even if he was a little stiff:


Stanley had a playdate with the twins. He was rather excited to be in the presence of other little people:


We shipped Stanley off yesterday to another foster home. I think he'd had about all he could take in Texas. Addie kissed him more than a few times. It pays to be a laminated man.

After our experience with Flat Stanley, it has lead me to an idea. What if I start shipping off one of my kids a week at a time? One day you may walk out to your mailbox and find Addie sitting there waiting for you. After you play with her for a week and feed her lots of bacon, then you send her to....ah.....um....my mom's house. Ya, that's the plan--my mom's house. I'll start rotating the girls each week. Instead of Flat Stanley, it'll be Find A Foster.

So, consider yourself warned. Walk to your mailbox with extreme caution. You might want to take reinforcements. And duct tape.

How Sweet The Sound

Every morning I hear the battle cries, "I hate violin!", "Why do you always make us practice?", "Why do I have to do what you want?" The cries increase in intensity on Thursdays when we have to go to lessons. You would think they were indentured servants by the way they moan. Every parent who has a child that they bribe, yell at, threaten to practice, wonders if it's even worth it. And then there is a moment that shows up and you no longer wonder. Today was one of those days--BIG performance, practiced for MONTHS, played for a judge, medals awarded.

As I watched them play, I didn't hear years and years worth of whining. Instead, I heard joy. Oh, how sweet the sound. All worth it.

3 Little Pigs

We have a couch in the upstairs family room slash playroom. I never, ever look behind it. Truth be told, when I'm in that room I don't even let my eyes wander anywhere in the vicinity of the couch. It's where the girls and their friends hang out. Thus, I'm scared of what's back there. The other day, I was brave enough to move it:

We have a rule that food is not allowed out of the kitchen. So, imagine my surprise (not) to find mass piles of dry noodles. There were also half eaten suckers, used bandaids, gum, chapstick, endless garbarge. Oh, and a glove. Not a pair mind you, just one. Are they really that lazy? Just shove it all behind the couch I guess. Ask any one of them who shoved all this crap back here, and I get my favorite response, "I didn't do it."

I think from now on I should just start shoving everything I pick up behind the couch. I'm so tired of bending over to pick. up. one. more. thing. So, I'll just kick it to the couch instead. When the girls ask me where their backpacks are, I'll just say, "I didn't do it."