White Christmas

People in Oklahoma often wish for a white Christmas.  It's not completely unreasonable or impossible; but it is almost always highly unlikely.  Ordinarily, our wishing is rewarded with 50-degree football weather, and we can try out all the cool outdoor toys we get for Christmas.  This year, as most of you will know by now, we wished so hard that we got a full-blown blizzard, with near white-out conditions and driving wind and pelting "snow" (or ice pellets, if you want to be realistic).  Personally, I think I would have been happy with the 50-degree weather.  In any case, on Christmas morning, our kids had a ball.

Except for Rex, of whom you will see no pictures.  It was just too cold for him.  It might not have been, except that he wouldn't wear socks under his galoshes, and the first thing he inevitably did with his mittened-hands was to plunge them into (wet) snow.

Caleb, incidentally, has done much snow shoveling over the last 2 weeks. Who knows? Maybe more is in his future. We're supposed to drop into arctic temperatures soon, and much of the Christmas snow still hasn't melted.  But then again, ice is more likely than snow, and fortunately for my hard worker here, ice doesn't shovel all too well.

Talented and Gorgeous, Too!

The Thursday before Christmas vacation was Lizziy's* combined orchestra and honor choir performances. They all looked and sounded fabulous, and fun was had by all.

Several people thought we must have spent hours on Lizziy's hair, but the lucky girl has hair that holds curl well.  That was one time around with the rollers, one comb-through with a pick, and one barrette, all accomplished in about 20 minutes, most of that time waiting for the rollers to cool.  It's just sick and wrong.  But then, Hannah and I have hair that holds curl for all of about 20 seconds.  On the other hand, when Hannah or I don't comb our hair, it doesn't always look nasty.  Lizziy has to spend several sessions a day with the hairbrush.  I guess there's pros and cons to everything, right?

* For those of you who have been wondering, Lizziy chooses to spell her name this way.  It's unconventional.  But so is our Lizziy.

Happy 7th Birthday, Rex!

I had a really hard time getting a birthday picture of just Rex.  Everybody wanted to be in his pictures, and he was too anxious to wait for them to get out of the way.  Just take the pictures, already!  I probably shouldn't have gotten so annoyed with them all, because after the grand present was unwrapped ... er, I mean, retrieved from the trunk of the car after I had claimed to return it because Rex figured out what he was getting, all 5 of them sat down on the living room floor and played with the castle and its trappings.  It was enough to warm my little heart up on a cold night.

In any case, time sure flies when your baby boy is an adventurer and an explorer and all of the wonderful things that Rex is.

Christmas Vacation

One thing I've learned over Christmas vacation so far:

If you ask your daughter to clean her room, she will practice her cello.  Even though she hasn't actually bothered with practicing the entire school year.

Query: if I ask her to practice her cello, will she clean her bedroom?

I can be flexible, you know.  :)

We Interrupt the Season...

I know it's the holiday season, and I should be posting fabulous uplifting posts and be of good cheer, and whatever....  But I just need to take a minute to implore the powers that be for ... whatever it is that I need.

For those of you who know me well, and worry about me, this is NOT a full-blown meltdown.  More like a mini-meltdown.  Kind of like Christ in the Garden at Gethsemane when He asked His Father for this cup to pass from Him, but then He still got up off of His knees and pressed forward and did what He had to do.  That's what I'm going to do, too.

But this is the part where I whine and complain.  Not that Christ was actually whining and complaining.  But this is the part where I am less perfect than He, and I whine and complain.

Yesterday was an ... um ... adrenaline-filled day for me.  Lizziy went to the surgery center to get her tonsils and adenoids out.  After he performed the operation, the surgeon told us that we had absolutely done the right thing, that her tonsils had tonsil stones (something I'd never heard of until then, but what amounts to large amounts of nasty dead cells and bacteria and all sorts of ickiness in her tonsils that needed to move on out), that her adenoids were interfering with her breathing, and that the surgery should much improve the quality of her breathing, her sleeping, and life in general.  A good thing, even though it's nervewracking to put one of your babies under general anesthesisa and the knife, even if you've done versions of that to all of your other children, too.

Meanwhile, when she's in recovery, coming out from the anesthesia, the nurse is telling me they expect Lizziy will probably vomit, and the kid in the bed next to her starts puking, and my pregnant tummy just can't take it, I send Bob in to be with her.  Good plan, right?  He's always the one who handles the vomiting at home, and he's really good at it.  He'll even help me handle my vomiting, which I think it the epitome of true love.  Anyway, the next thing I know, he's passing out?  Having a seizure?  SOMETHING, on the floor unconscious.  He'll probably be furious at me for posting this, but you know what?  It was freakin' scary, to see my chosen love for life lying there and not knowing what was wrong with him.  And having a bunch of nurses and doctors there that weren't sure either.  That part wasn't terribly reassuring.  And one of my babies meanwhile lying in another room disoriented and nauseous and in pain.

So Bob comes back around, and they decide it was just the talk about blood.  Why do people pass out about blood anyway?  But I digress....  While he's getting his color back, and being babied by the nurses, with his feet up, Lizziy throws up in true Lizziy fashion, while the old man across the room starts hurling, I mean really hurling.  And of course, I'm standing there, pregnant tummy under control through sheer will power alone.

We all go home, pick up Sariah from my fabulous visiting teacher's house.  Lizziy is the model patient.  She was doing what she was asked, eating, drinking, resting, and not whining or complaining (unlike her dear old mother).  But Sariah just didn't get it.  She didn't get that Lizziy was tired and sick.  She knew something was wrong ... but I think what she understood was that she, Sariah, was suddenly not the center of her parents' universe, and it had something to do with Lizziy.  We'd all gotten up early, I'd had the scare of a lifetime, and now we have a cranky, righteously indignant 2 year old.

Rest will cure this.  Not.  We go to bed with a 10 year old daughter with a carved up throat in our bed.  Not a big deal, except now I can't flip around restlessly anymore like I usually do because I'm not supposed to be sleeping on my back because of the pregnancy.  And I have a toddler being potty-trained at night.  And an obnoxious greyhound with nighttime bladder control issues.  And hips that hurt because my sciatic nerve has decided to kick in.

So this morning, everybody expects me to be SuperMom still.  Or to clarify, they still expect me to be the SuperMom that they're always complaining I'm not.  I'm tired.  I'm grumpy.  I'm queasy all the flippin' time, even though I should be about 10 weeks past that.  I'm worrying.  I'm scared.  I'm bordering on emotional and mental exhaustion.  And today I'm supposed to balance my checkbook and pay the bills, buy groceries, go get Rex's birth family for a visit, finish getting ready for the holidays, take my oldest daughter shopping, do more laundry and more dishes, prepare a lesson for the primary class I'm supposed to sub in tomorrow, mop my floors, buy more ice cream, and be a happy, loving, supportive, always-there-and-always available mother and wife.

I'd rather go curl up in a corner and cry my little eyes out.

And where, oh where, I ask you, am I supposed to find time to facebook?!  This is the worst indignity of all, I think.

See?  I told you I'd get up off my knees and press forward.  That's what moms do, right?  They keep going because God will eventually give them a fresh energizer battery.  So.  I'm off to conquer the world.  :)

Christmas Party

Bob happened to catch some fabulous picture of two of my favorite girls at the ward Christmas party this past weekend.   They're gorgeous.  But I already knew that.  Now you do, too.

Happy Birthday, Jacob!

On Saturday, we went to cousin Jacob's 6th birthday party.  We haven't been able to see him in awhile, so this was lots of fun.  His favorite song right now is "Big Green Tractor" by Jason Aldean, but he wouldn't sing it for me, even when I sang it for him in my scratchy voice.

Grandpa Haynes was there, and he even elicited and ever-rare Hannah-picture-sighting.

Cindy

Gabby

Elizabeth (the other Elisabeth)

or maybe this is Gabby, I'm really not sure!

And Hannah (whom I sometimes call Hannah-belle, incidentally),

holding Annabelle.

The Magic Word

We have been trying to teach Sariah manners of late.  It's working.  Sort of.

Her favorite thing to do is to make demands.  My favorite response is to say, "Ask me nicely."  And she always replies, with the most intense and sweetest smile you've ever seen, "Nicely."

We've learned the magic word ("Please"), and she uses it, but she's also learned the art of charm, apparently.

The Big Day

Friday was the Big Day. We'd gone back and forth several times about whether to find out the baby's gender, but finally decided to go through with it. It was so much fun having Hannah be a surprise, but I really wanted to paint Sariah and Baby's room appropriately. So off Bob, Sariah, and I trekked to the ultrasound office.  We found out.

We wanted to tell the older kids all at once, and we wanted to do it memorably.  Apparently it's all the rage right now to have a little pseudo-shower with a mystery cake and everybody's finds out all together what the baby is.  But I'm not cut out for that kind of surprise.  So here's what we did, just for our kids:

When all of the kids were home from school, we told them they had to make a guess. They guessed boy all the way around, but only because we told them if they didn't guess they'd have to clean the garage. They really don't like the possibility of being wrong.

I don't know where on earth they get that from, but none of them were wrong.

At the doctor's office, we asked Sariah what it was. She said a boy. She's varied from boy to girl for awhile, but she has always claimed we were having a baby "brudder." After she confidently proclaimed that it was a boy, the sonographer said, "Well, I don't even know why we're doing this. They're always right." And then she told us it was a boy.

Now you know. He appears to be healthy and doing all the things he should be doing, and his due date of April 12-13 was reconfirmed for the 3rd time--just remember that my babies never come on time unless they are forcibly evicted. There is an issue of low amniotic fluid. Apparently I need to drink more water and eat more protein, and have another ultrasound in a month.

After my efforts in that direction this weekend, I told Bob, "I feel like all I do is drink and pee." He told me I might consider rephrasing that, or I'd be visiting my bishop soon enough. Ha ha.

Help in the Kitchen

Thanksgiving at our house was good this year.

How could it not be with this kind of help in the kitchen?

Hmmmm....

Somehow I don't recall taking 44 pictures commemorating my messy office.

Just sayin'.

Falling

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Fall

This autumn, what do you wish would fall?


(What the heck kind of question is this, anyway?)


This autumn, what I wish would fall is my level of involvement in the PTA.

Dances from around the World

Tuesday night was the 3rd Grade Program: Dances from around the World.  It was quite the production, and I was very proud of my Zulu Warrior.  His part was very active, as I think the pictures will prove.

If you want to know what it meant to be a Zulu Warrior, you should probably ask Caleb.  He can tell you a bunch of the South African saga.  In any case, this particular dance involved lots of stomping and moving around.  It was my favorite dance.

However, I also really liked the Russian mixer dance at the end.  Many of you will know that a little piece of my heart belongs to Russia since I traveled there as a youth.  But this dance was awesome--it's the kind of dance that goes faster and faster, and you have to switch partners, and you get to jump in the air.  It looked like the kids were having a ball.  Plus, the picture will show you that the program covered a wide variety of cultures.  It was pretty cool.

Here We Go Again

I don't know if Lizziy will appreciate me posting this picture, but it's the most recent one I could find.  And it's not my fault she's onery.  ;)

Took her to the ENT yesterday--that's the Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor for the uninitiated.   In case you're wondering, we're very initiated.  Between ear tubes and tonsillectomies, every kid but Lizziy has been operated on.

Until now.  Yep, she's getting her tonsils out.  And mean mom that I am, we're doing it the Friday before Christmas vacation.  The hope is that she'll feel better, be healthier, and most importantly, sleep better, which might bring about that miraculous change in attitude we've been looking for.  Don't get me wrong here--Lizziy is fabulous and amazing, but when you can't get a decent night's sleep no matter how early you go to bed, are you really the happiest camper on the block?

Keep your fingers crossed for us!

Motivation

Monday, November 16, 2009

Today' Writing Prompt: Monday

What is the best thing about Mondays?


I don't know if I'm an odd little duck for this or not, but when I wake up on Monday mornings, I usually feel ready to take on the world.  Some days the feeling fades faster than others, but I really like the Mondays when I can take off and conquer my own personal mountains.

A Better Day

I had a rough morning today. My 10 year old daughter who ought to know better threw a 45 minute tantrum that involved screaming, shouting, punching one of her brothers, and trying to headbutt her pregnant mother's belly. I was about ready to pull my hair out, and probably hers, too.

But I finally got her and her friend (the elementary school Monday morning orchestra crew) and the boys off to school. And then I got the middle school orchestra brigade delivered.

When I got home I found this note on my desk written in bright red Sharpie (oh, my son knows the ways to my heart). It made my whole entire day.

For one thing, this a huge amount of progress for my son, who sometimes expresses his stress and frustration (which he probably had a lot of this morning) in ways not that much different than his sister did.

For another thing, I'm pretty sure he wrote this while he was checking his email. We set up his email a week or two ago so that he can work on some of his literacy/reading comprehension skills by emailing friends and family. He really loves to get email. And again, for him to ask for email instead of crying about it, this is real progress.

And for the last thing, this was just what I needed this morning. What a lucky mom I am!

Today I'm Thankful That...

• My husband is still employed.
• My children have good teachers.
• Sariah is feeling much better.
• Jonah's leg is healing.

Sigh of Relief

Football season is over.  Can you hear that huge sigh of relief?  I have loved watching Caleb play, and seeing his team (finally) come together.  But three practices and a game a week is enough to kill anyone.  He says he's not playing next year.  Rex says he is.  We shall see....

Ugh.

Sariah is on antibiotics again.  She has an ear infection (which I suspected) and bronchitis (which I did not anticipate ... even though she sounds awful).  Hopefully, we can get her feeling better, and she'll start sleeping through the night again.  Oh that will be a blessed day ... er, night.  She really hasn't been a happy camper.  And therefore, neither has anyone else.

Busy, Busy

We've had busy times lately.  A youth temple trip one day; a temple night the next day.  A Scentsy party on Saturday--mmmhmmm, I love that stuff.  Dinner with good friends.  A football playoff game (yay! the season's almost over).  Church, including the annual primary program.  A sick baby.  PTA stuff--just when you think it's going to die down, it starts up all over again.

I think the football game was the most exciting part of our weekend.  We had to drive all the way out to Prague, which is over an hour away, for Caleb's first playoff game.  It was also his first game starting off as quarterback.  He did a pretty good job.  They finished the first quarter with a score of 0-0, which I have to say is unprecedented.   Usually by the end of the first quarter, the score is 24-0, and not in favor of us.  The game wasn't a complete shut-out either--we got a touchdown!!  These boys have come such a long way from the beginning of their season.  They're starting to come together and get it right.  In any case, I think they had much more fun than they've had in the past.  They were still really psyched when the game is over, so I 'm going to count that as a win.

On the agenda this week, fewer football practices, a visit to the doctor for Sariah's hurting ear, less facebooking and more blogging....

My Boys

Sometimes I forget to appreciate each of them and how wonderful they are.  For example, Caleb never forgets to give me a hug and a kiss, even on a really bad day (for either one of us).  And Rex's zest for life never dims (even when Mom's a grump).  They're pretty cool kids.  I am blessed.

Halloween 09

Halloween was an interesting affair around here this year.

First of all, we trick-or-treated on Friday night. Not just our family. The entire city. Because of the OU football game on Saturday night. We were keeping our kids "safe." (Or the taboo version: nobody wants to hand out candy during the game).

Second of all, I was sick with strep throat. Not contagious anymore. But I sure didn't feel good, and Bob was still out of town. So a bunch of our plans got smashed.

I ended up sending the older kids over to our old neighborhood with our former neighbor and still-thank-goodness-friends. I have no pictures of them, but they had a grand time and that's what counts. Hannah was a black bride (complete with black veil and flowers); Lizziy, I think, was a witch of one sort or another; and Caleb was a football player (you could argue that his costume was cheap, unless you take into account the cost of playing a season of football, and then it was most expensive of all).

My two littles--one of whom doesn't appreciate being called that anymore--I took around our new neighborhood.

Rex was Darth Vader.  He was pretty scary, according to his little sister.  He was a bad guy, according to Sariah.  "Oooooh, scawy!"

Sariah, on the other hand, was a "pwitty buttewfwy."  It's a good thing she's little and all she needed to complete that illusion was the set of wings.  I thought I had another costume for her, but I didn't.  So I told her she was a beautiful butterfly with wings and beautiful butterfly barettes.  She was happy.

We went out with Bob's sister Jennifer, her little girl Cindy, and his other sister's (Angie) little boy Andrew. Good times!

Sweet Sariah

All sweetness and light, right?

On Sunday, during family home evening, I was jokingly informing Bob that he needed to repent of being mean to me.  To egg things on, I told Sariah to say, "Repent, Dad, repent!"  (Let's not go into my parenting/spousing techniques at this time.)  She obediently did so, and the next thing we know, she's preaching hellfire and brimstone: "Reeeepeeeeent!  Reeeeepeeeent!" she's yelling in this horrible scary harsh and raspy voice.  Don't mess with the preacher woman.  I'm just sayin'.

Nerves

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Nervous

What nervous habit(s) do you have?


Nail-biting.
Jittery foot-shaking.
Eating.
Nail-biting.
But I don't eat my fingernails.  Just thought I'd clarify.  LOL!

Tender Mercies

I have a friend who frequently documents the Lord's "tender mercies" in her blog.  I've wondered for awhile where she came up with this phrase.  But lo and behold, I figured it out (and felt a little bit like a dunce).

I've been rereading the Book of Mormon for the first time in a long time.  I'm not very far in, but man oh man, Nephi sure talks about the Lord's tender mercies upon his family a lot.  How could I have missed this before?

It's helped me to become a lot more aware of the tender mercies in my life lately.  And I'm glad.  We're going into the Thanksgiving season, which is always a good time to be grateful for our blessings (and you get reminded a lot about it, too).  However, I've found that the best season of the year for gratitude is the Christmas holidays.  As a culture, we swing from the "extreme" gratitude of Thanksgiving to the extreme gimme-gimmes of the biggest gift-receiving season of all time.  It's very hard not to get caught up in all the commercialism and consumerism.  Granted, as a parent, the focus isn't quite as selfish--after all, I spend my entire December trying to figure out what fabulous gifts to give to my children, and I often struggle with composing a wish list for the people who would shop for me.  But still, I think I might even get caught up in vicarious selfishness on my children's behalf (for example, they would be happy with that gift, but they would be absolutely thrilled with this one, so who really cares that it costs $20 more and then I might have to buy more gifts for the other kids to even things out....?  I know you know what I'm talking about!).

In the past, though, I have observed that the best, most memorable, and most meaningful Christmases I've celebrated, have been those in which I've taken time to write personal notes on my Christmas cards, expressing gratitude for the many people who have blessed our lives.  Or those when we have focused on the needs of others instead of our very own wants.  Or when we've taken the time to truly enjoy our friends and family.  I'm talking about the Christmas seasons when we've managed to remember that Christmas is really about the greatest gift the world has ever received, the Son of God, Jesus Christ.

That's a tender mercy.

To encourage me in this line of thinking, Heavenly Father has recently ... er, blessed ... our family with a month of various illnesses to bring us to our knees help us remember to be humble, grateful, and loving.  I will commemorate our October by enumerating the things I counted most as our tender mercies, and lest you mistake me, I am completely serious about the beginnings of this list--I have never been more grateful for some of these things:

• Penicillin.  Thank you, Alexander Fleming and all the others who surely worked under God's inspiration to discover this in our world.  Strep throat is absolutely the pits.  I'd forgotten how much so.
• Tylenol.  Okay, really I'm thankful for ibuprofen, but I'm not allowed to take that while I'm pregnant, so I'll just be grateful for Tylenol, which did the best it could.
• Gatorade/G2.  Swine flu, anyone?  I credit gallons and gallons of Gatorade for keeping the 6 of us completely hydrated and hopefully better than we otherwise would have been (dehydration is supposed to be one of the most common side effects of any type of flu).  Now my 2-year-old is completely addicted to the stuff, but I suppose there are plenty of worse things she could be hankering after.
• The football carpool, and anybody else who drove my kids anywhere during the month of October.
• My husband and his willingness to come home early to take care of his flu-ridden family (if it were me, I'd seriously have thought about finding a weekend assignment...but he was blessed for his goodness, I think, in that he didn't actually get the flu).
• My husband and the mountains of laundry he did while he was home.  And the staggering quantities of Lysol and disinfectant he used in our house.  LOL!
• My sweet daughter Hannah, who mothers as well as I do, even though I never intended for her to take that job as a 12-year-old.  She seriously took care of the candy-infested children and cleaned up the kitchen and made sure a bunch of other things got done while I was in bed, teeth chattering with a fever that Tylenol could only do so much for (see above).
• My wonderful son Caleb, who took over getting Sariah back to sleep in the middle of the night when I was too sick to get out of bed.
• My Lizzy-girl who got up on time and got ready for school every day last week without being asked to, and who managed to catch up a great majority of her sick-work without her mother's assistance (translate: nagging).
• And my littles, Rex and Sariah, who forced me to get out of bed every day and participate in their lives.  If that sounds ungrateful, it's not intended to be.  I was really grateful that I had to just keep swimming, just keep swimming (as Dory would say), because they're little and they need their mom to be a functioning human being for them.  Without that, I would have crawled in bed for days on end.  I might have healed faster then, but I would have missed smiling and laughing at their antics.  And after all, laughter is the best medicine.
• Sunshine.  Sunshine.  Sunshine.  We usually have so much of that here that we don't have to stop and think about it.  But it's been a shockingly wet and drizzly September and October, much like the Pacific Northwest or England, as various friends of mine have pointed out.  It's been dark and gloomy.  Now I notice when the sun stretches in through my bathroom's eastern window.  I want to reach out to it and give thanks.

Over the last month, all of these things have given me quiet moments of reflection when I have felt the Lord's hand blessing our lives in little ways.  They are indeed His tender mercies.  (And thanks, Karen!)

Sports

Monday, November 2, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Sports

Write about a memory you have of playing sports as a child.


My memories of sports are a little pathetic.  I wasn't very good at anything athletically related.  So I was always picked last.  So I didn't like playing.  So I wasn't very good at anything.  You get the idea.

The sorry thing is that when I went to college and started exercising for health, I discovered things that I was really good at it.  They just aren't on your typical 8-year-old's radar.  I like to jog, on a treadmill, with a TV going--but not for speed, and certainly not for scenery.  I like to swim--but not to compete.  I like to do yoga (didn't even know what that was when I was little).  I like to Wii Fit (don't even go there; no, it was not around when I was a kid).

Birthday Wishes

Happy Birthday to my little brother!

(Belated) First Day of School

First Day of School 2009!  We had to find a new location, as we are now lacking the redbud tree we'd been using since Hannah's first day of kindergarten.  But not to worry!  We have a baby tree again, and it looks much better than I remembered it did.

My dream tree has always been a sugar maple.  They're gorgeous trees, and they're supposed to have spectacular fall foliage.  Just not in Oklahoma.  I never planted one at our old house, because all the local nursery owners told me I was right--a fabulous tree, just not in Oklahoma, so most of the time, they don't even carry them.

Fast forward 10 years, to when we move into our new home.  There's a sugar maple planted out front, the only tree on the property.  Our builder is quite proud of it: "It's a good tree!"

But it's looked pretty pathetic.  Kind of drought-stricken.  I think Bob may want to rip it out.  I can't bear the thought of ripping out a fairly well-established sapling.  Which is pathetic looking.  But I will tell you: its foliage is much more brilliant than anything I ever saw the sweet gum tree do.

Stay tuned to find out where next year's school pics are....

Crank

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Scream

What makes you want to scream?


After the last week of illness at our house, what doesn't???

That's actually a good lead-in to what really makes me want to scream: being cranky.  I hate being cranky.  Being cranky usually makes me crankier than I already was to begin with, and that doesn't make it any easier to "just cheer up."  What's my problem anyway?

Motivation

I'm pretty sure I've had the motivation and goal-realization thing all wrong for a long while now.  Here Rex is in August (I'm still catching up on all sorts of things).  This was not his maiden solo voyage, since it took us completely by surprise.  He explained quite simply, "I just decided I wanted to ride my bike without training wheels, and I did."

Blessed

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Peace Prize

Give away your own Peace Prize--to one person, living or dead. What would you say when presenting it?


Haha, funny! I guess this will directly relate to the fact that yesterday the Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to Barack Obama. Okay, so I don't really like the guy, but I've made it something of a habit not to bash him too much either. However, I really think this is over the top. What exactly (and that's the key word in this sentence) has he done to deserve it? I would rather give one to Bill Clinton (and I do NOT like Bill Clinton) or Ronald Reagan, than Barack Obama. Argh.

Oddly, my thoughts today focus on mothers. I've spent the week at home with all five of my sick children, and I was sick, too. Truly, it felt like I was frequently negotiating world peace. Not that I did that great a job of it, but isn't that what mothers all over the world do every day? They say "the hand that rocks the cradle rocks the world," and trite it may be, but I would also argue that it's true. Peace begins at home, where parents teach tolerance, love and respect, and then pray that someday the message sinks in, and that nobody else gets to your kids and shreds all your lessons.

There can be no finer words than the Savior's own words for the peacemakers of the world: "Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God."

#14: My Favorite Football Player

If you know me, you know I've never really been that into football. I still remember watching as a child and wondering what the big deal was and why the heck boys would play something that dumb. I attended all our high school football games, but only because marching band was fun, and so was hanging out with all my friends in those dreadful uniforms up in the stands. I never really got into the tight-pants thing, or the cool jock phase ... although I did temporarily have a huge crush on John Elway (why????), which was the only reason I watched all those Bronco games with my mom. And I've never been impressed with the Dallas Cowboys. I will admit, though, that Sooner Mania is very infectious, and I will get into a Sooner football game, as long as they're not doing something stupid.

But times, they are a-changin', especially now that there's a #14 in my world. No, I'm not talking about Sam Bradford, even if he is pretty impressive and cute, too. Football has suddenly become much more interesting (obsessive even) to me now that my baby boy is playing. He looks good, doesn't he? And he's waaaaaay more impressive and cute to me than Sam (sorry, but I have to be honest here).
I think some of my newly discovered love for football stems from the fact that Caleb is good at what he does. That's not just the mom in me talking. He's seriously good at football. That's not to say the first few weeks weren't hard--he hated learning to wear the pads and the helmet, but oddly, these are things the mom just wouldn't budge on. But once we overcame that hurdle and the 3 times weekly practices, Caleb really started loving it. He can do just about anything they ask him to do out there. He typically plays safety, but he can run the ball, catch passes, and sack the quarterback. He also played QB a couple of weeks ago, when both of our QBs got hurt.

He's a team captain, if that's what they call it at this age.

And he's a pretty darn good kicker. The first game he kicked, he actually beaned another player in the head. Coach Ryan says the refs were stumped because they weren't sure where to place the ball after that. However, we took him home, and set him in front of Mom's "new" Suburban, and told him to practice kicking WITHOUT HITTING MY TRUCK. It was pretty effective--he never hit my car once. And now just look at my kicker in motion:
But, as with all things we love, there are sacrifices that must be made from time to time. Who knew they did homecoming in the 3rd grade? And that you have to escort a cheerleader? Ugh! (If only he would still feel this way about it when he's 16.)

Back from the Almost Dead

It's been an exceptionally long week. On Monday, Caleb stayed home from school with a fever and a cough. Over the course of the day, Sariah developed the same symptoms, and I started coughing. On Tuesday, a trip to the Urgent Care Center (because there were no more appts at the dr's office) revealed that Caleb had the H1N1 flu, more commonly known as the swine flu, despite the medical community's best efforts. And by Wednesday, they were all running fevers and home from school. We ALL felt like ... well, miserable. Bob flew home early to take care of us, and we've spent the rest of the week in various stages of recovery.

We are not out of the woods yet. Hannah and Rex are still actively running fevers, and all of the other children are still coughing. Needless to say, we will not be spreading our leftover germs at church tomorrow, but Mom is feeling significantly improved, so there is light at the end of the tunnel.

On next week's agenda: getting all the kids back to school, and nursing Bob through his run with the flu (he doesn't have any symptoms yet; I'm just assuming).

Meanwhile, I'm feeling up to updating my blog. I have lots of pics to put in and talk about; I just haven't had the down time. But I have it now.... Cyber-hugs to all, as I'm sure nobody really wants the real thing. :)

We Love Our Grammy and Papa

This is from when my parents visited in August. Those beautiful girls are our cousins, Kenadie and Katelyn. Fun times, but they don't happen often enough anymore!

Accomplishment

My accomplishments this week have been many (rotfl), but my best accomplishment--and I use this term loosely--has been the potty-training of this cute little thing. We had no accidents yesterday. Woohoo!!! We're not out of the woods yet, but my diaper bills are going down. And incidentally, in the picture above, sweet Sariah is eating pickles dipped in key lime yogurt. And NO, this is not an example she has seen set by her mother, fyi.

Today's Writing Prompt: Parents

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Parents

Have you ever done something that makes you think you're turning into one of your parents (or another childhood authority figure)?


I read a book once that said something along the lines of, "You open your mouth and your mother comes out...." I have to admit that this happens to me quite frequently, for better or for worse, most often as a parent. And that's all I have to say about that. :)

Thinking Out Loud Here....

As many of you will know, I rarely talk politics here, or anywhere else. My personal politics are a mix of bizarre and Gen X: I'm a registered Republican, but only because you can't vote in the primaries in Oklahoma if you are registered independent. I was brought up in a home with one parent who leaned Democratic and one who leaned Republican, but I wasn't really aware of that until I'd left home. In political terms, I never know whether I'm coming or going. And then there's that Gen X component, the apathetic one that allowed me to not care about voting in the first presidential election for which I was eligible (it was Clinton's reelection, I believe). Since then, I have learned to vote consistently from the major elections to the minor town ones. As a matter of principle, I never take the "vote straight party" option. I believe one of the greatest strengths (and one of the greatest pitfalls) of our country is the two (or more) party system. I just can't figure out which party I belong to. Maybe I'm a Venn diagram. Sounds about right.

I will tell you up front, because I live in a country where I am supposed to be free to do so, that I did not vote for President Obama. But I didn't make up my mind about my vote until the week before the election. I just didn't think there was a good choice.

Having said all that, I am now going to offer my opinion on President Obama's scheduled address to school-aged children next Tuesday. No one's really asked for it, but I'm feeling like I'm in a small minority (funny, I feel that way a lot lately) and that my voice is valid and needs to be heard. I love having the privilege of doing so.

I spent much of my morning surfing the internet, trying to figure out what the heck the story is, since everybody's so up-at-arms over the whole affair. Basically, what I learned is that the extreme right is saying EVERYTHING, and the support base that is supposed to be the President's is staying mum. You want facts? The closest to that I could come was what was on the White House's website, and this seemed fairly tame. Do I understand that this is not The Speech? Yeah. Do I believe that everything out of his mouth will be propaganda? Of course, but everything out of anyone's mouth is propaganda as represented by their opinions, thoughts, decisions, and actions. Would I like for it to be prerecorded so that I could preview it? It would be nice. But how many times have I watched the candidates out stumping or watched the State of the Union address while my kids were sitting in the room? Let's not bother counting. Am I afraid of Big Brother? Well, yeah, I've read 1984, and I do find some disturbing parallels between my world and Orwell's.

However, if my children's school were showing the address (and according to Elisabeth, they are not), I would let them watch it. I am considering showing it to them afterwards anyhow. There are 2 vital parts to this decision on my part.

First, we're talking about the American Way here, people. We believe in freedom of speech, not just for ourselves, but for the people around us, too. We believe in freedom of speech, which means that we believe we can try to influence people with our words AND that our audience can choose or choose not to be swayed by our arguments. This is what the entire political process is about in this country. And it's been this way since before the Declaration of Independence. For goodness sake, the United States Constitution took 3 years to be ratified because the founding fathers were debating every nuance of it. Difference, debate, and division are the catalysts of the political process. There are responsibilities that go with those things, and especially with our freedom of speech. We are each individually responsible for our own choices, and without listening to both sides, there is no way we can make any truly educated choice. Neither can we move forward if we absolutely refuse to acknowledge other perspectives and points-of-view. I said "acknowledge," not necessarily "accept."

Before my children are old enough to vote, they need to understand how this process works and how to maneuver it. My children need to understand how to listen to their elected leaders (or soon-to-be-elected leaders, or out-of-office leaders, or basically anyone who opens his or her mouth) and glean what is truth and what is not from those people's words. They need to understand when and how someone is trying to influence them. They need to understand that the same words can communicate many messages. They need to have the confidence to navigate these muddy waters when we as parents can no longer do it for them, because that day is coming, no matter what. Heck, with my oldest 3 at ages 8, 10, and 12, they already do a bunch of this.

Fortunately, and this brings me to my second point, my kids often try out their questions or concerns on me, and though sometimes their timing isn't ideal, I am so grateful that we can talk with them and to them, and help them choose to make wise decisions. It is not President Obama's responsibility to teach my children this, it is not the governor's responsibility, nor our friends', neighbors', school administrators', bishop's, or anyone else's responsibility. That is my responsibility, and if I don't teach my children to discern and dissect and follow truth's light, then I have truly failed them, for they won't be able to vote wisely, or fight for their freedoms, or even choose decent friends in life (and at this point, I'm far more worried about the friends they choose to listen to than what government official they hear).

If you want your kids to think for themselves, then let them try it under your loving guidance. The White House website says the president is going to speak to students about "the importance of taking responsibility for their education, challenging them to set goals and do everything they can to succeed." If that's all he says, what's wrong with that? I don't believe that will be all he says, but there's only one way to find out, and that's to listen, decide, and choose for myself. The best place to discuss politics and issues as well as influence your children's choices and beliefs (read also: indoctrinate and/or brainwash your children, because that's what every single parent in this country does with their children)? At the kitchen table every morning and every night.

Found

FOUND:

1 USB cord for the camera
1 iphone charger

Found in a safe place.
A place that, incidentally, had been searched multiple times.

Ted's

I love Ted's.

So Ted's proved to be an absolute inspiration yesterday. I ate the yummy complimentary chips and salsa and handmade tortillas, and I ate my yummy cheese enchiladas. I really love their chimichangas, but my stomach can't handle that right now.

When the server came to take my plate, she asked if she could box up my beans and rice for me, and I said, "Nah, they didn't taste right to me today. I'm not worried about it."

Not much later, and after I had eaten my yummy sopapilla with honey, the server came back with our ticket, and my meal was free! Wow, then it was that much MORE yummy.

Hindsight being 20/20, I guess I should have told her it was probably a pregnancy thing.

But then again, I'm practicing not looking gift horses in the mouth too much. :D And I'm sure they've earned themselves a few of my return trips.

Heartbeat

I had my first ultrasound this morning.

The tech asked me, "And why are we doing this ultrasound today?"

And I promptly replied, "Because I'm a great big wuss."

"So, for reassurance then?"

Well, yes. I have enough anxieties (yes, I'm still worrying about swim team and my husband flying) without worrying about having a miscarriage since I've told all sorts of people via my blog, my big mouth, and my kids. And to top that off, I haven't been terribly sick. Now, I don't want to look a gift horse in the mouth here, but it is really unusual for me to be this unsick. And in the past when I haven't been sick and had a positive pregnancy test, the pregnancy turned out to be not actually viable. Now that I've said all this, I'll be deathly ill with morning sickness for the next 32 weeks.

The verdict is: a so far healthy looking baby, with a great heartbeat. I would post the picture here, but really it just looks like a jelly bean. It doesn't look so vague when you're actually looking at the machine, but the printed picture is really fuzzy.

In any case, once a heartbeat can be detected, your chances of miscarriage go from 1 in 6, to 2 in a 100 (why don't they just say 1 in 50? it still sounds so much better).

So, now my husband can quit worrying about me worrying. He wasn't worried about the baby at all. But my ridiculous (my word, not his) anxieties were getting a little old.

I think I'll go celebrate with a little Ted's. :)

Survivor

I still haven't found the USB cord for my camera. I think I put it in a "safe" place. It's probably with Bob's phone charger. It's in a "safe place," too. It's really too bad because I look in my camera, and I have lots of fun pictures. Cheerful pictures. (This is a cheerful picture from my archives.)

Right now, I'm really struggling with cheerful. I want to be cheerful, and I usually start out the day cheerful. It's keeping the momentum going that's the problem.

It often doesn't seem like it, but Rex has a really difficult time adjusting to change. The beginning of the school year is a really big change for him, and understandably so. He needs the routine and the structure of the school day, but it is still a change in his daily life. He cries a lot. He whines a lot. He gets stubborn (which, believe it or not, is not actually one of his defining characteristics). He seems to become completely incapable of processing the words coming out of my mouth. He works really hard at doing whatever he wants.

Sometimes this means he runs around naked picking on his brother at night after his bath when he is supposed to be putting his pajamas on. Sometimes this means he takes 25 freakin' minutes to make his lunch in the morning, when he only has 30 minutes to get ready. Sometimes this means he repeatedly takes his seat belt off in the car all day long every single time we get in the car. Sometimes this means he goes and does the exact thing I told him not to do not 10 seconds beforehand. Sometimes this means he does his utmost to convince his teacher that he's supposed to ride the bus home, even though he knows he's not allowed to ride the bus because he is completely out of control when riding said vehicle. Sometimes this means he tortures the dogs, bugs Sariah until she screams, carries sharp scissors around while he's running, or shreds his shoe laces or the soles of his shoes or both.

When it happens all in one set of 24-48 hours, it's a little much for me to handle.

I try to remember that he has sensory integration issues and that some of his behaviors are almost compulsive. I try to remember that someday his abilities to ... multitask ... will be a blessing to him (and his wife, bless her heart). I try to remember that his love for fun and games will serve his children well. I try to remind myself that his persistence and stubbornness are the same thing as tenacity, which is sometimes what pulls us through adversities in life. I try to remember that his imagination and the "reality" that he lives in are the hallmarks of creativity and genius. I do my best to remember that when Rex smiles and is happy, the light in his eye can be downright infectious. I try my best to see the wonderful and amazing creation that is Rex, who would not be who he is if not for the extraordinary circumstances which have not only caused some of his issues, but which have built and molded his personality into that of an incredible survivor.

He's a pretty amazing kid.

I think I can be cheerful now.

Counting Blessings

After that last whiny post, I probably need to do some blessing-counting, especially since I can't find the USB cord for my camera to get all my pictures and post them here.

• I had a great visit this weekend with my parents, my nieces, and my brother.
• Caleb had a super time at his football scrimages yesterday. He made a bunch of great tackles, caught a pass the first time they tried to run the play, and says he had fun.
• I had yummy dinner and pie out with great friends last night.
• The kids had a good first "week" of school (and Sariah and I got some good naps with no one to wake us up).
• Bob currently has an assignment for work. Assignments are good. Assignments = continued employment.
• I have an interesting book to read right now. Two, actually.
• I got all the boys hair cut this week. Now if I could only figure out how to make it stop growing. LOL!
• I think my kids will be able to start riding the bus again. YES!!!
• I'm getting lots accomplished for my PTA work.
• All my blood work came back good and where it needed to be.
• My family is all here and all together.

It's a good week.

Sigh.

I have lots of pictures to post. I have lots of stories to write. But instead I'm just going to whine about why they won't sing for me.

• My dog had a seizure. So on the vet's recommendation, we went to the pet ER, where, for all intents and purposes, they might as well have told me she had a virus. But they're a lot richer now.
• My 2-year-old daughter bounced off a chair last night to the tile floor, afterward proclaiming that she needed to go night-night, then that her eyes hurt, then that her ears hurt, and then she was up and running around like a whirling dervish.
• Have I mentioned that I'm having (hopefully) pregnancy-hormone induced anxieties? Lots of them.
• I'm afraid my girls are going to drown at swim team. I have to go check on them regularly to cope with this fear. The swim team lane is RIGHT UNDER the lifeguard's perch.
• But I'm NOT afraid that my 8-year-old son will get any football related injuries, because I'm too busy hoping that practice will knock the rebelliousness out of him, because he throws such fits beforehand, because he doesn't want to go, even though we signed him up because he wanted to go.
• PTA, PTA, PTA. (This to be said to the cadence of "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia.") I know that I volunteered (sort of) and that we are accomplishing good things, but I forgot how time-consuming it can be made.
• I've banned all Disney youth-aged TV shows at my house. Little Einsteins, Micky Mouse Clubhouse=ok. Hannah Montana, Zach & Cody, Wizards of Waverly Place=NOT ok. And while my kids are less mouthy and kinder to each other, they are now "bored" and expect to be entertained, which means they are mouthy and unkind to each other. Why am I doing this again?
• I have been preoccupied with a CNN segment (maybe it was Fox) on "How to Survive a Plane Crash." This is a reasonable preoccupation, I think, given how often Bob flies. But really, aren't you either going to survive or not?

Okay, I'm done ranting now. I solemnly vow not to rant again for at least another 24 hours. :)

Good News!

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Good news

Write about some good news you heard recently.


This is a very timely prompt for me. A week and a half ago, I discovered that I'm pregnant. We'd been hoping for nearly 4 months, and I had just come to the conclusion that we might need to stop for a little bit, so that I could get my weight and my rosacea/acne under better control. But right before I started my new rosacea meds, I thought, "I should really make sure I'm not pregnant," since you're not supposed to take any of those meds while you're pregnant. And lo and behold, the test was positive!

I hadn't been expecting it at all! With only one working ovary and fallopian tube, and 4 months gone by (which is way longer than it's taken in the past), I just figured the time wasn't right yet. In fact, I've done 3 pregnancy tests in all, just waiting for one to come back negative.

I do have a bunch of worries to go with this joyous news, but for now I want to focus on the positive. I am so excited to hopefully have a newborn again. I love babies, and my kids get older, I find I am enjoying them in new and exciting ways every day.

I am so grateful to be a mother, and to have the opportunity to love these beautiful children.

Composed

And I had a song composed for me this year:

Happy Birthday to you,

You live in a zoo!

You live with 5 monkeys,

And there's one in you, too!

My kids thought it was highly entertaining.

Happy Brithday to Me!

My birthday was wonderful this year, and I'm so grateful for that. I got 2 cakes--1 from my kids, and 1 completely chocolate cake from April. I got to have my parents here from Kansas for the day. We ate at Ted's--yum!!! I got to watch my son play football and my daughters swim like champions. I even got to take a nap.

The one drawback was that my honey's flight got delayed and he couldn't get into town until Friday afternoon. But that's okay; he made it, and I'm glad he's home.

Thanks to everyone for all their birthday wishes. I appreciate them!

Vacations

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Home

How do you feel when you walk into your home after an out of town trip?


That depends on how the house was before I left. I love coming home after being away for a substantial amount of time, but only if the house was clean before I left it. Otherwise, it's just one big reminder that it's time to go back to the drudgery, and I'm probably more behind than when I left. It's depressing.

You Are Awesome!

So thanks to all of you for letting me rant and vent about my thoughts, even though none of you would ever ask me any of those questions. The support is great, and I appreciate it. :) And now I will retire my little soapbox.

When I'm Dead....

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Quote

In 100 years, what one statement would you like others to remember you as having said?


Does it have to be my own words?

Live, laugh, love.

Pick Your Jaws Up off the Floor!

I'm feeling a little judged this week. It's probably mostly paranoia, but there it is. I can't really change what people think, although I'm going to try, so mostly this post is about owning the decisions I've made.

If you haven't heard already, I'm pregnant.

Hence, the title. Obviously.

And worse than that, I'm happy to be pregnant. I can't keep it a secret. It's way too exciting to keep mum about it.

But the one thing that really throws a wrench in my joy is being asked a ton of nosy questions. I don't really think fast enough to hand out coherent answers or arguments. So first, I'm going to send you to this link. It's one of my favorite posts about large families. And second, I'm going to post the following "Q & A with Tracy." I'll start with the more polite questions.

Q: Why do you tell people so early? Aren't you afraid of miscarriage?
A: Yes, I'm deathly afraid of miscarriage. My body has proven repeatedly that it's entirely capable of ending pregnancy early, very early. But the fact is that I can't keep my own secrets. Other people's I'm better at keeping, but not my own. If I miscarry, then I miscarry, and there's probably a good reason for it (no matter how much I hate that it happens). I'm not going to wallow in the misery of my disappointment and heartache, but I'm not going to keep my sorrow a secret either. In our culture, it's apparently not okay to have bad things happen to you, and you have to keep them a secret. I happen to think some of humanity is about sharing emotions with each other; that's when we learn the most about each other, when we learn the most compassion, and when we learn that we are not alone.

Q: Don't you have enough kids?
A: When I was a little girl growing up, the only thing I consistently desired when I grew up was to be a mother. I went through phases when I wanted to be a vet, a teacher, a farmer's wife, a Tupperware lady. When I got older, I thought I would enjoy being a speech therapist, a social worker, and an elementary school teacher. Those things I probably would have loved and been good at (although the social worker thing probably would have killed me, which is why I changed my major). What never changed was that I wanted to be a mom. What's more, I wanted to have a lot of kids, like 12. I spent hours and hours naming them and renaming them. I was going to have triplets named Dallas, Austin, and Houston (that was before I moved to Texas and then decided that was stupid). I was absolutely convinced that my parents had deprived me by giving me only one sibling. I am fortunate enough now to be living my dream! I don't need 12 kids any more, but I still love children, and I still love being a mom, and I'm so grateful to have a husband who allows me the privilege of living my dream.

Q: Do you even use birth control?
A: Is this even your business? I will, however, point out that there was a 6-year gap between the birth of my 3rd child and the birth of my 5th child (the 4th is adopted).

Q: Can you even afford the kids you have?
A: Yes, for the time being. Obviously, in this kind of economy, there are no guarantees. Is there ever really a guarantee? But both Bob and I are willing to do what it takes to provide the necessities of life for the children we have brought into the world. I think that this applies to Bob especially. We live on one income because Bob works hard and makes many sacrifices for us. We all make sacrifices. Sacrifices aren't the worst thing in the world.

Q: Don't you worry that your kids will be deprived of time, attention, money, etc.? Don't you worry that your kids will be permanently warped?
A: I worry about these things all the time, but I don't believe they happen intrinsically because a family is large. I, as a parent, have a responsibility to provide for these things. I know plenty of large families, and I often (not always) find that the children are polite, well-behaved, cooperative, willing to work, good citizens, and exceptionally kind. It doesn't warp a child to have to share a bedroom (we could be living in a one-room cabin, right?). It doesn't warp a child to not always have ice cream in the freezer (hello obese America!). It doesn't warp a child to not get to participate in every single thing s/he thinks necessary (as an adult, I can't possibly do everything I want to do). And there are pros, as well as cons, to having multiple siblings--after all, in 50 years, who is going to be there for my children? Me? Please, I hope I'm dead by then. Or will they have each other, their lifelong friends and companions? (Just so long as they don't start a family feud. LOL!) The bottom line is: I'm NOT raising Generation Me here, and I'm so glad for that.

Q: You just got a bigger house. What are you doing?!
A: Consider that we were planning for our future. 4000 sq ft with 2 occupants does not a happy home make. Although, I do have to say we were really squished in our old house. I think as long as Bob and I stay committed to first the Lord, and second each other, and third our family, 2300 sq ft is plenty of room for a happy family and a successful life together. (Please note that I did not say this would be easy....)

Q: When are you going to stop already?
A: Quite frankly, that's nobody's business but ours. And shame on you for asking!

Q: Have any of your children actually been planned?
A: This really isn't your business either, but YES, all of them have been planned for, longed for, and greatly desired. The one exception is Rex, who arrived at our home on one day's notice for a temporary stay when he was 7 months old. He never left, and we've long since adopted him. I think that was an acceptable surprise as he's such a vital part of our family now.

Q: Isn't it irresponsible of you to bring little people into this world when you have a mental illness?
A: I suffer from depression. That sounds so ... depressing. But really, and I've posted about this before, I'm very, very grateful for my mental illness. It is currently under control with medication, exercise, and the avoidance of large amounts of chocolate (I know--that's inhumane). I will not come off of my meds while I am pregnant--a happy, consistent, and loving mommy, one with not so much cortisol running around her bloodstream, is the best gift you can give a child. I have parented with undiagnosed depression and with uncontrolled depression, as well as with diagnosed & controlled depression. It wasn't fun or pleasant for anyone when I was a mess. I'm not a mess now (or any more of a mess than anyone else or pregnant moms, anyway). It was my experiences as a mother that helped me to understand that there was something wrong with my head--I guess parenting in general leads us to that conclusion anyway, but I'm obviously referring to more here, people. It's my experiences as a mother that bring me some of the greatest joys and the most laughter and the brightest smiles. This isn't really a coherent answer to this question, but it's the way I feel.

Q: Aren't you exhausted all of the time?
A: Well, duh. But it's absolutely worth it.

Q: Do you ever get peace and quiet?
A: Only if my parents or my husband provide for it, bless their hearts. And when I do get it, it's kind of creepy weird.

Q: Don't you think you should make your husband stop traveling on a weekly basis, come home, and help you raise all those kids?
A: I'm living my dream, my husband should get to live his. I think he's been happy with this job, he's learned a lot, and he's built his resume. When he's ready for the 9-5 grind again, he'll get a "regular" job. In the mean time, Bob is an active and integral component of our family. I certainly couldn't do any of this without him.

Q: What does your husband think about another baby?
A: He's super excited, and smiled hugely when I gave him the news.

Q: What do your kids think about another baby?
A: I think there are mixed feelings, but over all, the feeling is excitement and anticipation. Believe me when I say I'll have to fight to spend time with my newborn.

Q: When's the baby due?
A: Assuming all goes well, April 12th.

And now I'll sign off to make sure I'm still pregnant. :D

Crank

Why am I always so grumpy on Sunday mornings? Sunday is supposed to be the Sabbath day, a day of rest and renewal. And instead of feeling rested or renewed, I just want to go hide in my bedroom under the covers and not come out until the frown lines between my eyebrows smooth out. I sit and ponder this, and it only makes me crankier. I don't get it.

Wondrous

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Today's Writing Prompt: Wondrous

Mankind has done wondrous things. We built the pyramids, went to the moon, and have explored the deepest depths of space. Describe something wondrous that you have done.


My gut answer is bringing children into the world. From the making of them to their births to watching them grow, learn, and progress, it's all wondrous. My children never cease to fascinate me--how they can be so much like their parents, and yet how they are so different and individual and unique and amazing!

Rain, Rain, Rain

Don't get me wrong when I say the things I'm about to say. Lest you misunderstand, I love the rain this summer. I love not paying to have my lawn watered. And I especially love that my birthday this year (which is 1 week away!) feels like it did when I was growing up in Arizona--my birthday always fell during monsoon season, and I love it! I still cringe whenever I hear thunder--I used to hide under my bed from it--but oh, I rejoice in the rain. This morning I even looked for a rainbow because you could see the sun coming up as it was pouring rain.

However, my issue stems from the 2 facts that (a) it is impossible for me to walk my dogs when it's cool enough to walk them, as it's been raining every morning at the crack of dawn (pun intended) and (b) suddenly, I once again find myself perpetually shadowed by 1 wimpy dog and 2-4 nervous children. Call me crazy, but I have some issues with these things. Obviously.

So now I'm going to return to the cup being half full, and say cheers! to a green, green lawn and good, good memories!