The Current List

My obsession with condensing our life into bullet points continues. For some reason, I enjoy seeing all the crazy grouped together. It's like an official list of "Bad Parenting Examples". We aim to please.

** The girls have all mentioned "it's kinda warm upstairs". And we've been all awesome-parent like, "Seriously? This is 2nd grade science. Heat rises. Stop being cry babies."

And then I actually went upstairs. Because who doesn't love their bathroom decorated for their birthday! (and their tub filled with balloons!) And while putting streamers on Child #1's ceiling, I thought to myself, "It really is warm up here."

Turns out the upstairs air conditioner isn't working. I have nary an idea how long it's been broken. The cry babies were right. Darn it.


** As a general rule, I avoid the 2nd floor. That's where the offspring reside. So, I do my best not to go up there. Ever. My sanity can't take it. Here's Exhibit A:

This is the bathroom that #2 and #3 share. This is what it looks like at this very moment. Let's pause and mention a few things--

The toilet paper roll situation will not be discussed.

We have a 'no food upstairs' rule. How interesting to see that Frito's wrapper in the garbage can. And does that mean a child was actually eating while sitting on the potty? There are no words for that thought.

And lastly, that is definitely an ipad sitting there. This is where it lives. For bathroom reading? I've never asked.


** Yesterday morning, I woke to find a note tapped to my computer screen and the monitor set to display a phone case.

"I want. Plze order when you see this."
Clearly, the Baby Child has become confused on how things work around here. Because this ain't it. We won't even talk about the way she spelled Please like she would text it instead of use it in it's natural form.

When she woke up later that morning, she was stunned that I hadn't ordered this case. Once I described the jobs she could do to earn it, she simply huffed and walked away. Cha ching!


** And lastly, I think it's worth mentioning that I mopped my bathroom floor. This really is epic. I've lived here for 7 years. I've only ever mopped my floor 1 other time. Sweep? Yes. Mop? Heavens no. I hate it.

This week I felt like being a rock star, and I pulled out the mop. Guess what? It removed the top layer of dirt and now it's all just one giant layer of hair spray. Everywhere you walk is sticky. Like, super sticky. Turns out that being a rock star is lame.

I'm thinking about buying a puzzle or a cupcake to cheer myself up. Maybe both.
Join me?

18

As of 9:00 am, she's legal. She can now buy cigarettes and vote. What an upgrade.

This birthday feels different than all the others. She feels like an official grown up. Maybe a mini-grown up? 18 just gives off the vibe of I'm-going-to-try-life-on-my-own-now-thanks. This age just brings her closer the life she will live separate from this one she grew up in. There is a finality to that thought that just makes my heart heavy.

This beautiful girl made me a mother. She gets to hold that title for the rest of forever. She is special and extraordinary in so many ways. And she has boldly chosen where to direct her path. It's an amazing journey to watch. Her becoming who she was always meant to be.

On this day, 18 years ago, she became our gift. She created parents and started a family. Some days she feels like the glue that holds us together at the edges. Other days I simply sit back and watch her soar. This girl holds a wonderful future inside of her, just waiting to be lived.

It has been, and always will be, an honor to be your mother.
Open those brave wings of yours, and fly.

Happy Birthday my Samantha.

It's A Small World After All

People. It's Craft Friday. Let's get it on.

Well, truthfully, every day is a craft day at my house. I'm not kidding. I make, paint, create something pretty much every single day. It's the one thing that keeps me sane. That, and the bunches of pills I take every day.

So, you should come over. And we can craft together.

On second thought, don't spring a visit on me. Schedule it with me first. Unplanned moments really throw me. Truly. My mom says I'm beyond Type A. More of a Type AAA. She's so adorable when she labels me that way.

But I still want to craft with you. We just need to schedule it. What about a group craft day? I've been thinking this over for the last month. My house. Treat are involved. Right?!

Today you will have to craft on your own. Paper flowers. Made from the Disney brochures that I (hypothetically) stole (brought home) from Disneyland.

They are Shut The Front Door cute. For legit. They are currently decorating my fridge. But, I'm sure they'll move soon.

I was inspired by 2 of my favorite bloggers. They recently made decor from catalogs.

You can read about them here and here.


Here's how to make the flowers. This isn't an original idea. I'm sure I've seen it somewhere, I just don't remember where that is.

First, you start with all the brochures (and your hotel room coasters) that you brought back from Disneyland:

Then you cut out 3 different shapes of circles. I made 2 sizes of flowers, so I needed 4 varying-sized shapes. I used 4 very scientific measuring devices: a bowl, a canning jar lid, the top of a prescription bottle and a circle punch.

I just traced right onto the Disney maps and then cut out the circles.

Each flower needs 4 circles of each size. Stack and hot glue each layer. Then cut a diagonal line at 4 corners of the circle stacks. Do each size separately.

Hot glue each stack on top of the other. Each flower is 3 layers. I cut a little, tiny circle out of the hotel room card holder and glued that in the middle.

Then, just scrunch and fluff. Those are official craft terms.

There are endless possibilities here. You could use scrapbook paper, book pages, maps. I totally thought about taking all those first-day-of-school forms and turning them into flowers. And sending them back to the school that way. Yes, I'm smarter than I look.

Happy crafting!

To My Daughters

For my daughters,

I view and hear the world in 2 ways. How I can dance to it and how I can write about it. My life feels like it's divided into 2 parts. Before you and after you. Dancing was my before. Writing is my after. Yet, you are my everything. My life at any moment.

My before life, when I was your age, was filled with dance. Immersed, really. Soaked through. It was all consuming and I loved it. Even now, when I hear music, any music, I immediately think of how it could be transformed through dance. It's just automatic in my brain. It really happens without thinking.

Now, in this after life, my mom life, I see words. The movement of words and how they can shape the world. My focus feels fine-tuned to the way we live. I see you with sharp eyes and a mother's heart.

Every day, every moment, I look at you. And I wonder. What is your automatic way of thinking? How do you see the world and yourself? What thoughts come to you naturally, without any effort?

So, here is my every day prayer--For your mind to automatically know that you are a beautiful Daughter of God. That you are a gift. Every part of you. An extraordinary gift.

I want you to walk the halls at school armed with the power that you are loved and special. When you text your friends and listen to music and work on homework, I want the undercurrent layer of your life to be hope. And a knowledge that you are exactly as you should be. A rare and precious girl. A powerful and beautiful young woman.

Because I see you. All of you. And my mother eyes watch all that you do and the world you face. And when your mind wanders, when it takes in all that surrounds you, I want it to know that you're perfect. And you're mine. And also His. And everything else? All the other layers and hard stuff you walk through? That's just the extra. Nothing more. The fringe parts of living.

You are the air I breathe.
You are greater than anything I could have ever imagined.
You are my everything.

Take these words and fold them into your soul. So that you can always, always know whose you are and that your value is infinite. And carry them tight. Don't let anyone or anything nudge them away.

Hold fast to all that makes you so very unique.

And when you view the world, may you always and forever automatically know that you are the very best part of it. You hold the biggest parts of my heart.

Don't ever forget.

How The Weekend Goes

How we handle a long weekend:

1. We nap.
I can't remember the last time I took a nap. Truly. I think I had forgotten how. This weekend was a good reminder to put Nap Time on the schedule. I think it might make me a nicer mom. Probably not, but it's worth a try.

2. We teach zit tutorials.
The Baby Child got her first zit. I taught her how to take care of it.

I instructed her to hold a tissue on it to stop the bleeding. This is what I discovered 10 minutes later. Her explanation? "I didn't want to hold the tissue." I may just get a genius child yet.

3. We decorate.
"We" is a loose term. I decorate. I've been painting frames and making banners and wreaths for about a month. I would pretty much to anything for the twins.

4. We lecture. A lot.
"You can't keep 8 empty water bottles stacked on your bedroom floor."

"No, you can't continue to shower once the shower curtain and rod have fallen to the floor. Days ago."

"Yes, when I ask why you're wearing that dress, it does mean I think you look ugly. But when I say it with my nice voice, you can't take offense."

5. We eat out.
Because, good grief, cooking just seems like such a waste of time sometimes. I mean really, we have naps to take!

6. We family.
And we celebrate cousins and childhood bonds and an amazing boy who is leaving for his church mission. The best of times.

I hope your Labor Day was filled with all sorts of goodness.

What Right Now Looks Like

Right here, right now. What does your life look like?
Mine? It feels like a jumbled hot mess. Normal, right?

On a whim, because I like to torment myself, I've been looking at "All things Fall" on Pinterest. I live in a place that the weatherman claims, "feels like 104 degrees". I can't imagine colored leaves falling from trees. Or sweaters. So, I look longingly at autumn online. I'm weird. This I know.

I was looking for a shirt. In Daughter #1's closet. And she has things piled all willy nilly. I couldn't tell what I was looking at. So, I maybe, sorta, pulled everything onto the floor. And guess what? I still couldn't find the shirt I was hunting for.

Her reaction to this mess was not very pleasant. I told her she should really change her tone. Because honestly, I did her a favor. Now she can refold them one by one and remember how many great shirts she has. My kindness is cloaked in crazy.

Yesterday I had to hunt at 2 different stores for specific, requested school supplies. I loathe doing this. I try my darnedest to buy tons of extra everything before school starts. I've been doing this school thing for awhile, and I pretty much know what's on the horizon. My ire gets all sorts of irked when I have to continually go back to the store after school begins.

When Child #2 came home yesterday and I handed over her needed planner, she looked at me and said, "Oh. I didn't think you would actually go to the store today. Because I still need a 5 subject notebook."

For. The. Love.
Cue the Silent Treatment.


Here's the random last bit of my right here, right now:

1. Caramel Apple Oreos. I bought them yesterday. I'll let you know if they're a thumbs up or a thumbs down.

2. I currently have 2,135 photos on my phone. For legit. I know (from The Husband's lectures) that I need to hook it up to the computer and download and blah, blah, blah. That man can drone on and on about backups and "The Cloud" and all that techie stuff. It's all nonsense.  This is the very stuff he does for a living. In my mind, that means anything relating AT ALL to technology, is his job. I mean seriously, I've got crafts to make! Sheesh.

3. Speaking of downloads, my Kindle has 394 books on it. Raise your hands in the air for that awesomeness! And this is a super old Kindle. No fancy touch screen. I call it my "Vintage" Kindle. Antique, maybe?

4. My closet has become "A Situation". For heavens sake, I've taught organizing classes. And now I can hardly walk in my closet. The level of ridiculous is pretty high. Too bad I can't shove all that stuff up into "The Cloud".


I hope you are enjoying your right here, right now. No matter what it looks like. My advice? Don't pull all the shirts out of your daughter's closet. It doesn't end well.

The 5:30-2:00 Fairytale

Once upon a time...

There was a Senior.

And she was starting her last year of high school, and her mother was really sad about that. But not sad enough to cry.

And then there was a Sophomore.

And she was starting her 2nd year of high school, and her mother was praying, praying, praying that it would be better than the 1st year. Thoughts of last year made her cry. Super hard.

And the Senior and the Sophomore drove off into the morning together, to go to school. In a car with 160,000 miles that the mother lovingly calls "the money-pit turd pile".

And last, but not least, there was a 6th grader.

And she was starting Junior High. And her sisters were mad at her because she gets lots of extra morning sleep time. And her mother was sad. Because she knows all about middle school and the years to come. But she didn't cry. Not yet. She still holds out a little bit of hope for this Baby Child.

And they all went away to school.
And the mother lived happily freakin' ever after. (Until 2:00 pm, when the high school lets out.)

Happy Back-To-School, my friends.
This year, school is going to be our jam.