A Little Bit of Funny, A Little Bit of Sweet, A Whole Lot of Life

A Big Kid

2012-02-09T18:48:00.000-08:00

Look who's 5 and off to kindergarten in the fall! It's hard to believe how fast the time has gone with her. She is by far our funniest kid, and still the runt of the litter. We sure love her and are so grateful she is a part of our family.

Favorite Color: Blue, pink, and purple
Favorite Food: (giggle) macaroni and cheese
Favorite Treat: cake
Favorite Animal: griaffes and zebras
Favorite Toy: Repunzel doll and different things - "mom - do not ask me my name"
Favorite Restaurant: Jimmy John's "what are you going to ask me now?"
Favorite Song: Taylor Swift "Mean"
Favorite Show: Spongebob Squarepants
Favorite Store: The Bread Store (Outlet Bakery - they give her free Twinkies)
What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up: An artist
What Is Your Favorite Thing To Sleep With: Bunny
What Do You Want To Look Like When You Grow Up: I want to have make-up all over me - but not on my forehead
Who Do You Want To Marry: Jess - "He starts with a J mom"

*after a night of sleeping on it, the wee one decided that in fact it is Brody she wants to marry. She woke up this morning and told me I needed to change it. It was VERY important.

Merry

2011-12-25T17:23:00.000-08:00

May your days be merry and bright, and may joy fill you not just this season, but all your days spent with those you love.

Picture This

2011-12-13T12:50:00.000-08:00

It's been a few since we attempted the family photo. Truth be told - it's been since Curly was 3. That's 5 years. I know right? Being the uptight perfectionist I am, the picture tends to give me great anxiety. The color scheme, the clothes matching but not matchy matchy, then ironed, then on with no goobers before the actual shot is snapped? Despite the moniker, Hollywood needs a bit of smile therapy. Multiply that times six people all happily smiling at the same time? Not a fart's chance in a hurricane of that happenin' people. But one great photographer and one Photoshop program make one family look great! I really wanted Photoshop to make me magically lose another 20 pounds. But I decided to ask Santa for it instead.

Don't you just love them?

The Trot

2011-11-28T14:57:00.000-08:00

49:21

I got this. Why?
Because I can do hard thing.
That's what the Turkey Trot taught me.
That's what I am grateful for - believing in myself.
Never underestimate what you are capable of.

Over Heard

2011-11-14T09:15:00.000-08:00

Me: "Oh I am so ticked I cannot find the hot chocolate!"
Hollywood:"Mom, you can just say pissed."
Me: "Um excuse me? No you cannot say that"
Hollywood:"Why? You and dad do all the time"

Curly: "Mom? How old are you?"
Me: "Well I am 34 but I will be 35 in a few days"
Curly: "Wow mom that's old! You don't look that old, you look lots
younger because that's really old!"

Me: "Bye Sweetheart. I love you! Have a great day at school."
(Said while dropping the wee one off at pre-school)
Wee One: "Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever"

I am not sure where all this sass comes from. Clearly it is not genetics! Although somewhere I hear my mother giggling to herself that the ultimate parenting revenge has come true. I finally have one (or a few) exactly like me.

Smarty Pants

2011-10-24T11:34:00.000-07:00

Guess who made Honor Roll? Yep, my favorite third grader and my favorite sixth grader. One was sweatin' it that the 89% in writing would bounce them from National Honor Society. And the other was over joyed to hear that Honor Roll meant time with the Reading Specialist would be short lived. All in all a great quarter for two great kids.

The Fire of Friendship

2011-10-09T20:08:00.001-07:00

photo courtesy of Paulo Coelho

A man called Ali is in need of money and asks his boss to help him out. His boss sets him a challenge: if he can spend all night on the top of a mountain, he will receive a great reward; if he fails, he will have to work for free. The story continues:

When he left the shop, Ali noticed that an icy wind was blowing. He felt afraid and decided to ask his best friend, Aydi, if he thought he was mad to accept the wager.
After considering the matter for a moment, Aydi answered:
‘Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Tomorrow night, when you’re sitting on top of the mountain, look straight ahead.
‘I’ll be on the top of the mountain opposite, where I’ll keep a fire burning all night for you.

‘Look at the fire and think of our friendship; and that will keep you warm.
‘You’ll make it through the night, and afterwards, I’ll ask you for something in return.’

Ali won the wager, got the money, and went to his friend’s house.
‘You said you wanted some sort of payment in return.’

Aydi said, ‘Yes, but it isn’t money. Promise that if ever a cold wind blows through my life, you will light the fire of friendship for me.’

This passage comes from Paulo's new book Aleph. The man is a genius, and one of my favorites. The Alchemist is one of 4 books I would take to a deserted island and read over and over.

I haven't always felt like there was someone lighting a fire on the next mountain top for me. But that doesn't mean they are not there. I realize I have missed many kindling fires being kept while I looked for a bonfire on the mountain behind me. More than once I secretly hope in times of great frustration or despair there will be a fire for me on the mountain top, but have never sought to ask.

It's a gift, the asking and the climb and the discovery that awaits. Everyone needs to see a fire burning for them somewhere on their cold mountain tops and dark valleys. As someone once told me, "kindness will cost you nothing."

Don't Smash The Screen

2011-10-04T13:31:00.000-07:00

Are you sufficiently Hebe-gibed out just from looking at it? Yeah me too. Especially when in the last month we have found 10. In the house. On floors, walls, and closet doors. I'm freaking sick of it. With Arizona having the hottest August on record in the history of the state, these nasty little creatures have been finding reprieve from the heat and making babies in everybody's houses. Well no more. Finding one on the wall above this little girl's dresser was the last straw.

I smashed it so hard, the shoe print still remains. It's my own personal mark of victory. The crib is pulled away from the wall. The crib skirt is gone exposing the ugly underbelly of the crib (so sad). The legs are in glass jars since it's the only material scorpions can't climb. Did you know a scorpion can go 4 to 5 months without freaking water. Water. They can go even longer without food. Ewe. I asked Nathan if we could just build a house made of glass to solve the problem. He said that might be a little extreme. So instead, the guy with the killing spray stick comes tomorrow. Because everyone knows - I. must.win. So long little nasty creatures of stinging pain. But before you go, I need to know - why is it exactly you were even invented?

Eight

2011-09-20T13:55:00.000-07:00

It's hard to believe my little girl is 8. Making eternal promises, loving school, developing talents, and making friends. She is everything I had hoped for when I held her for the first time, and brings more joy than I could ever imagine. Just look at that smile - it exudes joy. I just hope I can do right by her.

This is the video we showed at her baptism that chronicles those smiles. Interjected throughout is her testimony she shared with us.

Lovely

2011-09-18T21:41:00.000-07:00

Isn't she lovely? She radiates beauty from the inside out.

And I suspect she will always melt her daddy's heart

I find it difficult to imagine losing her one day to this great big world, but I hope she embraces it with her whole heart, and remembers everything she felt this day surrounded by those who love her the most.

Tied Up

2011-09-08T13:37:00.000-07:00

Mother Nature has evened the score. At least in eye color. We officially have three blues and three greens. (Did you notice one blue's big white dress? Oh what a beautiful day! More on that later)

Sissy

2011-08-19T14:55:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the longest running joke around here is that I always said I never wanted kids and now, I have four. I could say priorities changes, the things you value most come into focus, and a new - better vision presents itself to you if you are willing, but really when it comes right down to it, I would say, I had no idea.

When Logan came along, I was so glad we were having a boy first. I had always wanted an older brother to serve as a make shift protector to shelter me. And while my younger brother certainly towers over me now, and would throw down with anyone who crosses me, back in the day is was me threatening to throw down on the playground with anyone who taunted him. I have always known the value of having a brother. What I under estimated was the power of sisters.

I didn't grow up with sisters. There was no one to fight over clothes with, or yell at for hanging out with my friends, and no bond that was forged in sisterhood. Not that I am complaining, we can't understand that which we do not know. So when I started having kids, I wanted boys. All boys. They seemed less complicated, less weepy, and easier to raise.

When I was pregnant with Eden, the week following the ultrasound was rough. Unequivocally, I was selfish and ungrateful. I was disappointed that Logan would never have a brother, never know what that was like, and I would not have the opportunity to again enjoy all the things boys do. There were so many wrongs with Logan that I wanted to right. Things I hadn't known then.

What I negated was the pure unfiltered joy of having girls in the house. Nothing compares to watching Reagan and Caitlyn painting at the easel together, or listening to them giggle in their beds before going to sleep, or watching Eden light up with glee when one of her sisters comes around. I love watching them serve one another. Even among the fights over clothes, sharing friends during play dates, and the general screams of annoyance, there is this unspoken bond forged daily in the refining fires of life.

I often watch in awe as these moments unfold, I treasure them, and I realize that I posses the greatest blessings ever known, even though I never knew I wanted them.

The Finest

2011-08-19T08:34:00.001-07:00

A little time with the animals at Sea World...

A little time digging the moat for a sand castle...

A little time for uninhibited joy on a boogie board...

And a little time spend in the most amazing hotel on the beach all added up to a little time away with my favorite little people. Who I might add, are becoming un-little all to quickly for me.

Side Show

2011-07-06T14:38:00.001-07:00

So what is a normal family anyway? Clearly Reagan does not believe she belongs to one!

A Campin' We Will Go

2011-06-24T10:57:00.000-07:00

All The man asked for this year for Father's Day was to go camping as a family. Those of you that know me may have just blown your drink of milk out of your nose at the thought of me planning a camping trip. Now, I know how to roll with the punches with only minimal meltdowns, so a camping trip I planned. I had only two rules. A toilet that flushed and a one night maximum. I lost on both accounts and began to obsess that one of the kids would fall in the vault toilets. Thank you National Forest Service providers.

Our adventure took us to Mormon Lake. However, due to an earthquake in 1988 which caused a crack in the bottom of the lake and subsequently drained it, Mormon Lake is now more like Mormon Meadows. No matter because with 78 degree weather and giant beautiful pines tress abounding, it was hard not to fall in love with the area. The kids had a blast sword fighting with sticks and making fallen logs into tables and stools to serve pine cone dinners at. The dogs rolled in the dirt and rivaled in hunting down the trail of scents all over the forest floor. And The Man got his chance to commune with nature. Me? I started and finished a book and committed only to a second night if I didn't have to cook another dinner on a two burner camp stove without any utensils. You know because who packs kitchen utensils for camping? That would be people who don't want to burn their fingers off trying to turn hamburgers with a chef's knife. The one thing from the kitchen I remembered to bring.

So a tradition was born. Six humans and two dogs in a tent for one giant adventure every Father's Day. Next year? I'll remember to put kitchen utensils on the list.

Rollie Pollie

2011-06-21T12:48:00.000-07:00

a.k.a the Chunk, Chunky Monkey, Yurtle the Turtle, Lilly Lizard

10 weeks old
12.7 lbs
23 1/2 inches
Facinated by her hands and feet
although, I am not sure she realizes they are attached to her
Loves to "talk" with us
Can usually be seen sticking her tounge out
and is a wee bit stingy with the big gums filled smiles

In Your Head

2011-06-02T21:17:00.000-07:00

Look at me all bloggin' twice in a week. Frankly I debated quite a bit on this post. I consumed a half of a bag of Sun Chips just writing the first two lines. Bob Greene taught me that on Oprah. You know, the whole eating so you don't have to feel or deal with your emotions. The bag of chips were delicious and I am ready to continue on. Eh, maybe a Twix bar first. Wait, those are gone, gummie bears it is. Being shareful is so hard.

After each of the kids, I have temporarily lost myself. I didn't know until after Caitlyn, and things spiraled out of control to the point that my marriage nearly fell apart, that I suffered from postpartum depression. I was prescribed a not so insignificant amount of medication and attended counseling for several months to put the pieces back together. It worked, and life went on. After Reagan, I thought I had the necessary tools to handle things and believed I could do it without medication. Then I threw the rice crispy treat at Nathan's head fully intending to knock it off of his shoulders. The next day I called the OB for the medication.

Normally the volcanic rage doesn't begin to boil until after I have the baby. But this go round, I began to feel it at about 28 weeks. I had a conversation with the doctor about it. Nathan cleared his schedule to be at the appointment to be sure all the facts were shared. But it was the holiday season and the doctor said that my desire to ram people with my cart in Target could just be the stress of the holidays. He wanted me to start walking every day to raise my serotonin levels and we decided to revisit the issue at my next appointment. We decided that for us the right decision was to wait until after the baby was born to start medication. However, the decision came with a few known consequences. Nathan took a few pot shots, I recused myself from interaction at great length with most people, and did my best to bite my tongue. Then exactly one hour and twenty four minutes after the baby was born I began the medication.

Some people believe postpartum depression is all in your head, and technically it is. It is an imbalance of the hormones and nero-transmitters in your brain that stabilize your emotions and ability to cope. For me, it is a lack of serotonin. The happy making brain chemical. For some, the opposite of happy would be sad, but I feel rage. Not anger. Rage. I get very irritable at the most minor of issues. Things like the dog licking his lips after he eats, or there being no toilet paper in the bathroom EVERY time I go in there. Yes these things are normally annoying, but during postpartum, they send me over the edge into the screaming rage. I can intellectualize that it is not normal to scream at people about these things, but I can't help it.

I also have a very difficult time making decisions and tend to withdraw from life. A few days after having the baby, before the medication had fully taken effect, I stood in front of the refrigerator sobbing because I couldn't decide what to have for lunch. Nathan decided to take the week off and pulled out the chicken leftovers. There are also several accounts of me staring off into space for extended periods of time, and other things that Nathan hasn't yet talked to me about because I still have difficulty processing things. Even now I will not make any decisions I don't have to regardless of their significance in my life, and no major life decisions will be made in the coming months. You probably won't find me in many large groups of people either since it tends to bring me great anxiety, and I find it extremely overwhelming. But there is good news, I now have the pizza place on speed dial so that I don't have to decide what's for dinner, and I do make a conscious effort to go out and be with my constituency.

So there you have it, the wizard behind the curtain. Normally I'm not this "sharey" with people. Hence the bag of Sun chips. But the theory is that if I talk about it, then the shame of it disapates and I am not left bound in its grip. And instead of feeling powerless, I can bask in the joys of the pretty great life I have.

And Then Some

2011-05-28T11:20:00.000-07:00

So it's been a while. I know. I could go back and tell you all about the last seven months, but that would require a portion of my brain that is not quite fully functional yet due to sleep deprivation combined with age! Did you know it's WAY harder to have a baby at 34 than it is at 29? I didn't but I do now. So the best I can offer is a brief run down of events, a few pictures, and the promise to do better from this point on.

Reagan turned 4, and with that grew a pair of sassy horns! The problem with these horns is that everything she says is actually quite funny,so you often find yourself biting your lip while explaining why she shouldn't be putting make-up on the dog, or running across a bridge to catch up with her friend that gets to run and "that's not fair." She is adjusting to her new role in the family. Her volume has increased exponentially, which most believed impossible, and only occasionally sits on her sister's head. Mostly it's love and kisses for her real live baby doll!

Caitlyn is still 7, but not for long! I must say that she is by far my most obedient child. If she didn't cry 47 times a day, I would deem her perfect. She has had a rather tumultuous 2nd grade year, but finished the year strong with all A's and is now reading above benchmark! She is still my little artist and has found a special place in the heart of her art teacher at school! But she is my little shopping buddy. If it has a heart or peace sign on it, or is the color blue, she must have it. I really enjoy the moments we have together, just her and I. They are too few and far between.

Logan turned 11 in March, and reminds me every day since school let out that he is not in elementary school anymore. I find it remarkable, especially since I am still 25. He has been extremely helpful since the baby was born. Most say he could run the house if necessary, and I must agree. When asked, he will moan and groan about having 3 sisters, but he is the best brother ever and takes excellent care of them - except when he is on a recon mission with a Nerf gun and "accidentally" shoots his sister in the eye with it. He was inducted into National Honor Society last week which requires a GPA of 3.9 or better to be a part of.

And the baby. Eden is now seven weeks old, but is often mistaken for a 3 month old. She is in the 75% for height and weight, with a nice round basketball head. But we love our little chunky monkey! She is a perfect baby. You need one of those when it's number four and you have scouts, piano, soccer, football, and work. The only time Eden makes any noise is to coo when she is happy and cry when she is hungry. Which is every three hours. Around the clock. And enjoys her momma bonding time at 3am. For at least an hour.

That makes for one tired me. And a daddy that had to get kids off to school every morning so I could sleep an extra hour. We are learning how to adjust to the new normal of a family of six. We are learning to build an extra 20 minutes into any schedule, and yet we are still late everywhere we go. Surely we will get the hang of it by Eden's first birthday. But then it will be time for another one! How many hearts did I just stop? Oh we tease because if there is anything I have been sure of in these last seven months, it's that this womb is officially closed for business!!

A Blessing

2011-05-28T10:32:00.000-07:00

Did you ever think, dear Mother,
As the seeds of me you sowed,
As you breathed new life inside of me
And slowly watched me grow,
In all your dreams about me
When you planned me out so well,
When you couldn't wait to have me there
Inside your heart to dwell,

Did you ever think that maybe,
I was planning for you, too,
And choosing for my very own
A mother just like you?
A mother who smelled sweet and who
had hands so creamy white,
A tender, loving creature
Who would soothe me in the night?

Did you ever think in all those days
While you were coming due,
That as you planned a life for me
I sought a life with you?
And now as I lay in your arms,
I wonder if you knew
While you were busy making me,
I was choosing you!

--Unknown author

babE

2011-05-23T16:17:00.000-07:00

Eden Sophia Kroeger
April 7, 2011
8 lbs. 20 3/4 in.

Expectations

2010-10-05T09:57:00.000-07:00

My husband often tells me I need to manage my expectations. He says I am too hard on people. Maybe set the bar a little too high for most. But in my own head, I set the bar no higher for anyone else than I do for myself. Therein lies the problem. In my own head.

I am a control freak. I will be the first to admit it. So when my life doesn't go according to my plans, well...there's fret indeed. So far nothing about baby number 4 has been predicable or controlled. At the first ultrasound, there was no baby. At the second ultrasound there was a little seahorse who had yet to sprout arms and legs, but had a wonderfully strong heartbeat. But the doctor let us know there was a bleed. Not a large one, and it had shrunk from the first ultrasound, but it was there and we needed to be aware of it. At the third ultrasound, everything had healed and a little person with a heartbeat of 169 was already kicking at the ultrasound machine. Is it too early to say I think I saw a tongue being stuck out at me too?

Fret has become a constant already with this kid. So has the learning (and the morning, noon, and night sickness). I didn't know how scared I could be to lose something I didn't know I wanted so badly. I didn't know how much I could love someone just by seeing their heartbeat. I also think I realize that I control very little in life. I have put off letting the world in on our little creation for fear it will somehow be taken away. But my pants don't fit anymore and the lady at the bank is starting to look at me with the wondering eye of "is she gaining weight or is she pregnant." Having faith in the world and people around me needs to play a larger role in my life. That's what baby number 4 has already taught me. There are surely more to come when we meet in the spring.

Seven

2010-08-06T11:43:00.001-07:00

A year in the life of Curly

*She loves her animals, especially her little puppy she dresses and sleeps with everyday

*She reads like a 2nd grade pro and whizes through math, but art will always be her first love

*Nothing excites her more than seeing a peace sign or heart design on cakes, shirts, art projects, just about anything

*She is quite competitive with her brother (we hope she out grows this one)

*She sings to the wee one when she cries at bedtime

*She loves to shop and looks adorable in just about anything

*Her second front tooth is finally almost in so we are just about done with the Nanny McPhee look

* She loves to get her nails done, well she loves just about any kind of pampering

*She might just have the purest heart I have ever seen in a person

Happy Birthday Baby Girl! We sure do love you!

A Field Guide to Fish Lake

2010-08-05T10:15:00.001-07:00

photo courtesy of Aunt Debbie

Day One

Our ten hour journey is complete. We have arrived at the site to observe and respect nature from for the next several days. We discover we are the first in our party to arrive. The land is quite desolate. There are rocks, sage brush, a fire pit, a picnic table, and much wildlife. No showers, and running water is scarce. Upon inspection of the sites we determined the best place to set up the nylon and mesh temporary dwelling unit. We determined that to be in a flat grassy area approximately 50 yards from the building of discretion, yet not down wind from it. We wait for the others to arrive.

Day Two

I awoke from a fitful night's rest atop a twin air mattress with the wee one to find that Hollywood and The Man are missing. In the daze of sleep, I pray Sasquatch has not taken them. I search for my phone to call The Man, and discover in this vast remoteness, we have no contact with civilization. However, upon further examination of the site, I find that several others and the boat are missing. I learn that hunting upon the great Fish Lake began early. All of our party has safely made the trek in as well. A member of the party has discovered a tick on my left shoulder. She removed it before it's head could burrow. I am then given brief instructions on how and where to check for ticks. I find it displeasing to say the least. The littlest of the party are eagerly chasing chipmunks and finding their weapons of choice upon the fallen branches. Curly has taken a twist and has used the fallen branches and a few strips of toilet paper to create homes for the creatures in the unlikely event of rain.

Day Three

It is three am and this night The Man and I have decided it is better for the wee one and I to find sleep in the more permanent dwelling unit made of steel riding on wheels. I have left my chair in the soft pallet and nasal symphony to find the unit swaying. I believe my space inside the nylon to be safer than that of a place surrounded with coolers full of meat, fish, and vegetables. We have not yet seen any wildlife of significant size and stature, however there are signs posted to warn us. This is indeed brown bear country.

A large doe made her way into camp. At first I mistook her for a large pit bull having only seen her hindquarters. When she revealed her face, I was quite embarrassed by my mistake. The matron of our party informed us about sunrise that there are indeed protective measures we should be taking. Bears are attracted to sunscreen. The sun is intense at 10,000 feet even if the thermometer shows a steady 80 degrees. We must forgo the risk of skin cancer and brave the elements if we are to withstand the wildlife. I don't believe I have ever faced such risk.

Day Four

We have survived our field study. Part of the party broke down camp last night and made their journey north. We will break down our camp and clean up all evidence of our presence after breakfast and a few games of red light green light. The remaining members of the party ask if we will return to the field study next year. With the successful study we had this year, perhaps we will.

Scissors

2010-06-04T10:25:00.000-07:00

We have a rule about scissors in this house. They must be hidden at all times. If they are not, this is what happens...

Good thing Sweet and Sassy could fix this mullet into a cute little layered bob.

Not pictured is poor Oliver who also received a side swipe haircut while I was in the shower.

Other things the scissors have been used for:
- Several doggie haircuts
- Curly's hair
- Three other self hair cuts by the wee one which did not require the same level of intervention.
- A few books
- More than a few homework assignments
- And this morning my mom called to let me know the blinds at her house had received a few alterations the other day.

I hear precociousness in children is a sign of intelligence. If that's true, I have a genius on my hands.

Breathless

2010-05-25T09:20:00.000-07:00

Dear 2020,

I have been catching glimpses of you for a while now. We have talked often of what you might bring and of how we might evolve into you. I have found it easier to look backward than to project forward. I have memories stored that have left me breathless, but to project into them is something I believed impossible.

I hold close the memory of when my sweet little curly haired girl became helpless to the virus within her and had to be hospitalized at 9 months old. I remember so clearly the paramedics whisking away her limp, naked, little body in her car seat strapped to a stretcher. I wanted time to stop. I wanted to go back and redo whatever I could have done to prevent that moment from happening. At the hospital I believed that if I just held her the whole night instead of placing her in the metal crib I could will her better on my own. That I alone could take away her pain and make her breathe. That I could protect her and keep her safe from the world.

Last night my sweet little curly haired girl sat on a bench crying and coughing. I rushed over to her to see if she could breathe. Instinctively, I began the firm pats on the back between her shoulder blades, to which she squirmed away from me slightly and said she was fine. I asked her why she was crying. She said she was sad. She said Fiona's kiss couldn't save Schreck and he died. She told me Fiona loved Schreck but she couldn't save him and that wasn't fair. And suddenly it was me who couldn't breathe.

2020, I know you could be the year that some boy comes along and breaks my little girl's heart. You could be the year she learns love sometimes isn't enough to save us. That we can't will things to be simply by loving them. It will be a moment I will want to go back and redo whatever I can to keep that reality from her a little bit longer, take away her pain, protect her, and keep her safe from the world. By then she will be too big to hold through the night. Yet I will still attempt to will away her heartache.

Until then I will prepare her. I will show her that love saves us from more than anyone is capable of believing.

Joy

2010-05-10T09:15:00.000-07:00

Three adorable kids + only two fists ejected and a screamer = A suprisingly calm Mother's Day.

"Mom aren't you proud of us? For Mother's day you asked us to be nice and we did pretty good except for when Caitlyn was bugging me." - Hollywood

"Mom since it's Mother's Day, I would like you to go on a bike ride with me." -Curly

"Mom, mom, mom - Whoagan ruined my life! MOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM - Kaykin hurted me and won't get me a nan-daid." - The Wee One

I sometimes find it shocking that as a teenager I never really wanted children of my own.

It's Important

2010-04-23T10:54:00.000-07:00

100 reasons to vote yes on Prop 100

1. It's not about politics, or a tea party, being Republican or Democrat, or about some bureaucrat getting fat off of the profits, or even about an election year. It is about the state of education in one of the most under served states in the nation. Proportionately, Arizona's budget crisis is the worst in the nation. As is their education ranking and per pupil spending.

2. The bill is a constitutional amendment and protected by voter rights. The first paragraph clearly states 2/3 of the money generated will go directly to primary and secondary education. The other 1/3 goes to public safety. The second paragraph states the tax will be repealed on May 13, 2013. No smokescreens. It is a 1% sales tax increase for a three year term.

3. The 1% tax increase will affect families grocery bill $1 for every $100 spent. A bottle of water costs more than that.

4. The Arizona Tax Research organization, the MOST conservative watch dog organization in the entire state has come out in support of Prop 100 because they recognize the impact on schools without it.

5. PE, Art, Music, and Reading specialists have received their RIF (reduction in force) notices in many districts in the state. Ironically, legislation was also recently passed stating that if is child is considered illiterate in the 3rd grade, they will be retained until they are proficient in reading. Who will teach them?

6. Teachers are being asked to take furlough days (unpaid days off) and a reduction in salary and benefits. Currently, the pay for teachers in Arizona starts at approximately $32,000 a year. A six percent pay cut would be $1920, leaving teachers with a salary of $30008 before taxes. These are the people educating America's future.

7. One district in the state projects an additional $26 million in cutbacks if Prop 100 fails. This number is in addition to the $17 million in cut backs that have been made in the last two years.

8. Capital funding will be completely cut from school budgets. This includes items such as desks and chairs for students, as well as textbooks and technology.

9. Class sizes are projected to increase by at least 3 students in every classroom. This means an average 1st grade classroom could have 27 students. If even 7 of them struggle with reading, there will not be enough classroom resources to support them, and reading specialists will be cut. A students chance at success significantly decreases, as does their projected likeliness of graduating high school.

10. This bill is expected to generate $918 million annually for education and public safety.

11. Response times for police and fire will go up by approximately 4 minutes. The average brain can only go without oxygen for 4 minutes before brain damage occur. Those additional four minutes of response time will cost thousands of lives.

12. The medivac helicopters for use in Northern Arizona will no longer receive funding. Response times for those helicopters coming from the south will be more than an hour.

13. Schools will be told to absorb the rising cost of utilities into their own budgets. In some parts of the state Arizona American Water is asking for 100% rate increases. These increases will create further cutbacks in the schools.

14. Pay to Play could be implemented. Any student wishing to play in school athletics will be required to pay. This will impact many low income families.

15. This is for the child who's favorite part of the day is Music because it is a part of the day they feel successful.

15. This is for the child who's favorite part of the day is Art because it is there they hear "Well Done!" regularly.

16. This is for the child that cannot afford playing club sports but got a scholarship to college playing high school football, basketball, or soccer.

17. This is for the child who struggles to read and needs more help than one teacher alone can give.

18. This is for my first grader who loves her teacher who taught her to love school.

19. This is for my fourth grader is inspired by his teacher to go to college.

20. This is for my toddler who wants to grow up and be a big kid that goes to school.

21. This is for the students I tutor.

22. This is for the the gifted students and future inventors of the world.

23. This is for the school librarian who took a significant pay cut just so she could stay with the children, and yet may still lose her job.

24. This is for the 23 first graders and 26 fourth graders I see every Friday in class.

25. This is for the Advanced Placement students in High School.

26. This is for all of the students attending Charter schools and Montessori's who's education will be impacted in many of the same ways.

27. This is for the firefighter called to rescue a drowning child in a swimming pool.

28. This is for the firefighter called to rescue a mother or father in a car accident.

29. This is for the parent who must call an ambulance and pray they get there fast enough.

30. This is for the police officer who jeopardizes his own life to safe another.

31. This is to ensure our children get an education which will allow them to compete in a global market.

32. This is to ensure our public safety.

33. This is for my brother who is a teacher.

34. This is for my neighbors who want the best for their children

35. This is for the reader who has a dream for their child that starts with a proper education...

There are indeed 65 more reasons and budget cuts I could list. There are 65 reasons you might give to refute it. No more taxes is one I hear often. But me, I will gladly pay the extra one dollar in one hundred to see my daughter's face light up when she shows me the picture she drew at school, or when she passes a sign and says, "Look mom, that sign says Best Friends. My best friends at school are Anna and Alexa." I will gladly pay that one dollar in one hundred to see my son carrying his trumpet to band next year. I will pay it over and over again to ensure that if I ever needed an ambulance, they would respond fast enough to save my life, or the life of someone I loved.

For more information on Prop 100 please visit www.yeson100.com. Early ballots were mailed yesterday, and the vote is May18th. However you exercise your right, please get out and vote.

If you live in the state of Arizona, or have a gallery of readers that do, please consider giving your 100 reasons to vote yes on Prop 100, or re-post these. Please help get the word out.

Oh S...

2010-04-04T21:08:00.000-07:00

On April 4, 2010 the sugar world lost a dear friend.
Funeral services were held in Glendale Arizona on April 5, 2010
It is survived by food like substances including lettuce, carrots, cucumbers, and other members of the dull food family

There were many fond memories over dessert at the dinner table
At the ice cream store
Standing in front of the candy section at the corner drugstore
In line at the drive thru
Over a shared Slurpee
Judging people on reality TV

Sugar has always been a dear friend
It never talked back like the kids
It tasted better than therapy
It called to me when the the caller I.D. showed no missed numbers
Goodbye chocolate covered pretzels
Goodbye Frosted Mini Wheat's
Goodbye Cadbury Mini Eggs, I shall miss you the most.

Sugar passed away in a bitter fight to the end. The battle was messy and included horrific details. But in the end, sugar had to lose, and let me tell you why...

I have 12 weeks to lose ten, got that 10, pounds. If I do not lose ten pounds in these 12 weeks, my brother has in a sealed envelope a very terrible picture and the passwords to both my Facebook account and my blog account.

Is this really what weight loss has become? Am I really that unmotivated by money, or the love of beauty, or even health, that this is what it takes?

Before some of you get all crazy and say, "Oh geez, you can totally do that," remember this. I am the girl that worked with a personal trainer for six months, three times a week, for two hours, and only lost 5 pounds. Remember that I am the girl who weighs more at the six week follow up check than I did at the last appointment before I had the baby.

This is war. So forgive me if I seem a little edgy in the coming weeks. I have a terrible photo that must be kept confidential!

Refresh

2010-03-31T19:57:00.000-07:00

You can't help but be drawn to the mountain tops this time of year. The beauty is breath taking. Even if breath taking includes sneezing fits and wanting to scratch the back of your eyeballs with forks!

Clean

2010-03-21T21:12:00.000-07:00

"Logan please go put the diaper basket in my closet since we don't need it any more."

15 minutes later...

"Logan, seriously, please put the diaper basket in my closet."

10 minutes later...

"Logan, stop playing the PlayStation and get over here and put the diaper basket in my closet."

5 minutes later...

"You want me to freak don't you?! I. am. seriously. going. to. lose. my. mind!" (Only effective when said through gritted teeth)

Controller smacks on the ground

In an exasperated tone I hear, "Ok, ok, gosh I'm going."

After vacuuming, doing the dishes, and folding the laundry, I went in to take a shower so that I could take them to the bounce house place for the afternoon. This is where I found the basket. I didn't yell at him because he had me on the technicality. All two inches of it.

Did you notice the smiley face sticker openly mocking me?

Hard To Believe

2010-03-16T21:24:00.000-07:00

Ten Things I Love About You:

1. Your laugh

2. Your thoughtfulness

3. Your wit

4. Your intelligence

5. Your desire to learn in all aspects of life

6. Your boldness

7. Your conviction

8. Your kindness

9. Your prayers

10. Your helpfulness

I couldn't think of a better first born, son, or big brother than you. Happy 10th birthday buddy! We love you!

Shh I'm Busy

2010-03-03T17:30:00.000-08:00

I haven't returned a phone call, e-mail, text message, or a request for some face time. My dishes, floors, laundry, and blog have all been neglected. The wee one stuck 17 band-aids to her knees yesterday and I failed to notice until I put her in the shower today. Hollywood and Curly ate 8 packages of fruit snacks in a meager attempt to sustain themselves while they waited for dinner. I know I have to get back to the real world in 73 pages. Until then, shhhhhh I'm busy.

Stupid

2010-02-17T09:05:00.000-08:00

I am not quite sure when it happened. I cannot pinpoint a specific day, or even a month. I think it has rapidly deteriorated in the last two weeks, but I can't be sure. Somewhere, some how, I have gone stupid.

A few weeks ago, as I barreled my car through the night sky trying to accomplish the day's tasks, my cell phone lit up the cup holder next to me in the car. On the other end was a concerned parent of a student I tutor. She wanted to make sure everything was ok. Confused, I responded, "absolutely, every thing's great." She then proceeded to tell me she was concerned since I didn't show up to the house today at 4:00pm. Who forgets to go to their job?

Last week, in an unsuccessful attempt to sound semi-intelligent and simultaneously spiritual, my soliloquy abruptly ended when I forgot what I was talking about in the middle of a sentence. Who forgets words? In a coherent order? To make sentences?

This morning, in it's very wee hours, as I drudged out the door, and smashed a toe into the back fender of a Barbie scooter on my way into the car, I got my phone out to let someone know I was on my way to take them to the airport. As I stared at the phone waiting for my car to warm up, I couldn't remember the phone number. I scrolled through the out going call log to find the number and waited for the number to look familiar. I pushed send when I landed on one that I had called several times in as many days. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Crap! Wrong number. Who forgets their mother's phone number? Who randomly calls people at 5:00am?

I think my brains are falling out. Can that happen? Does it happen when you clean your ears too much? Or is it keeping up with the weekly schedule? Or does it rapidly magnify when you have to ask three children four hundred times a day to take out the trash, clean their toys up, and pick up their socks so the dogs don't chew them?

I am sure it is related to the grey hair I found sticking out of my scalp, right near the temple of my left eye, openly mocking me in my peripheral vision. I yanked it out.

I am not old and I am not dumb. At least in my own leaking mind.

True Love

2010-02-14T13:55:00.000-08:00

Laugh for the day

2010-02-09T09:13:00.000-08:00

What's your favorite Superbowl commerical?

Stop the Presses

2010-02-04T08:42:00.000-08:00

"Dear Parents,

Turn off the TV for once and pay attention.

Regarding math:

The math we do is really easy. If your child is either too lazy or too stupid to finish it in class, I'm sending it home so that you can work with them and judge for yourself whether it is laziness or idiocy that inhibits your child's progress. We do part of it in class. How on earth they can NOT finish it is beyond me, but please help them with the part that we do NOT do in class. If your child is one of the mediocre few who excels on the homework, please congratulate them with a warm handshake or perhaps a halfhearted high-five, since finishing this homework is the equivalent of a twenty-year-old wanting to be congratulated for knowing how to tie his shoes.

Regarding Field trip lunches:
We have a peanut allergy in our room and a few in second grade in general. Because of this, everyone must eat nut-free foods. We also have a child who is mourning their puppy who got run over last week by a garbage truck, so we ask that no one wear anything resembling puppy fur, or that is red and flat. Further, one of our students has a nervous tick that causes him to slap himself in face several times a minute. In order to help this child not feel conspicuous, we ask that your child imitate a crazed masochist for the length of this field trip."

Let me just say, I am not really one for controversy. I mean sure I love a great debate, and if people have their proverbial panties in a bundle over something important to them, well then I am all ears. But generally I do not pump billows of air into a fire. But this was too good to pass up. It is all over the news and blog-o-sphere.

A principal in Phoenix valley was fired this week over a satirical letter he forwarded to one second grade teacher at the school. The letter was apparently marked to be sent home to students. The teacher did not read the letter before making the 25 copies and filing it in the students cubbies to be sent home amid paper bag puppets, worksheets, and writing journals. Oops!

The district office was flooded with calls from from 25 angry parents regarding the letter. As a result of sending the letter to one teacher, a teacher who did not read the content before sending it home, the principle was placed on administrative leave, and will not be allowed to return to the school, nor will he be allowed to take his scheduled position of principal at a new elementary school slated to open in July.

I could just leave it at that, and let you decide if the punishment fit the crime. But I am going out on a limb here, and pose the question, really? When did we become so sensitive? Ever made a joke at work? Ever work in an environment where the stress levels are so intense that you would be in a rubber room if you couldn't crack a few jokes? Ever work at a place where every year the demands increase while the funds diminish? Ever been in a classroom for 8 hours with 26 7 year olds? Can you discredit an individual's entire career because of the principle of immediacy?

Did it change your feelings if I told you he's Mormon?

I'm just sayin'...Think about it. And don't shoot the messenger, er the blogger.

Love You!

2010-02-01T08:30:00.001-08:00

Ten Things I Love About You...

1. I love to tell the story of the day you were born. You were in a hurry then, and still rush to where ever you are going.

2. I love that you still are a snuggler. My favorite is when you crawl up into bed and wiggle in bum first until you are wedged right up against me with those cold little toes.

3. I love that you have more personality in your itty bitty pinkie than I do in my entire being.

4. I love when you talk out of the side of your mouth, especially since you know we are all going to laugh when you do it.

5. I love to listen to you sing "I Am a Child of God."

6. I love how much you love your brother and sister and want to spend as much time as you can with them.

7. I love how smart you are. I am continually surprised at what you know and say.

8. I love the way you scrunch your nose when you smile.

9. I love your enthusiasm for everything you do. Whether it is playing with friends, or going to the store, you love it all!

10. I love that you are my little buddy and want to go with me everywhere. I love spending time with you.

We are so grateful to have you as a member of our family!!!!
Happy Birthday wee one...

Birth Order

2010-01-21T11:04:00.000-08:00

On Monday when I asked the wee one to pick up her toys, she snapped, "I'm not doin' nuh-sing!" So I put her down for a nap.

On Tuesday when she insisted she needed to be unbuckled so that she could close the garage door and I told her no, she screamed "you ruined my life!" Did I mention this all took place on the freeway which happens to be nowhere near our actual garage door?

On Wednesday, while at lunch, she began pounding on the window and yelling when two ducks attempted to end a third duck's life by drowning it. While this all too disturbing act was occurring, she turned to me and through pursed lips stated, "I am really pissed off at that duck!" I tried not to choke on the tortilla chip and encouraged her to use another word like angry, as in that duck is making me angry.

So when you see us out together and wonder when we are having another one...the answer is...never. This one has done me in.

*editor's note - While it did take roughly 20 minutes to recover, the duck was fine, no natural selection took place in the process of lunch

No Words

2010-01-13T08:53:00.001-08:00

Sometimes, an evening out needs no explaination, and sometimes describing the personality of a child cannot be properly communicated in any words...

Sabbath Day Rituals

2010-01-11T09:06:00.000-08:00

5:45am Sucrose Guy's alarm goes off

5:54am Alarm goes off again

6:03am Alarm goes off again, I tell him he better get up, he's gotta go

6:07am Lights flicker on and the shower starts

6:30am Sucrose Guy is off for 6:50am meetings

6:32am My alarm goes off and the shower starts again

7:05am Wake kids up to go

7:15am "Come on I gotta do your hair, we gotta go, we can't be late"

7:18am Curly exclaims amid sobs during the hair brushing, "I hate when church is in the middle of the night!"

7:22am "Did everybody brush their teeth?" to which Hollywood grumbles, "We haven't even eaten yet, what's the point?"

7:27am Lights off, Oatmeal to Go, juice boxes, socks, and shoes in one hand, church bag in the other, wait, where are the crayons? Who used the crayons last? Where are they? Got um, ok let's go...hopefully we make it on time

Quarterly Review

2010-01-07T10:03:00.000-08:00

Middle school is generally considered a "time of growth" by many. Most are awkward 12 and 13 year olds with far too many hormonal changes infused with an intense desire to belong. Throw in the daily mocking and cat fights and it is a recipe for disaster.

Valiant efforts have been made to retain as few memories as possible of these awkward days in my life, but yesterday the dam of repressed memories sprung a leak when report cards came home.

Whie we haven't yet entered the awkward middle school years, this year has proven challenging for Hollywood. When no homework came home for the first month of school, I thought it odd. On curriculum night I learned it wasn't because of his superior ability to focus and plow through tasks, but rather he "forgot" he had daily assignments. His efforts were rebuffed with daily communication with the teacher for a while, weekly progress reports, and followed up with weekly visits in the classroom by mom. There were also a plethora of chores added to the list when homework assignments were not completed. Being the intelligent kid he is, he quickly learned school and homework were far less painful, and we saw dramatic improvement in his studies.

Curly is in love with school this year. She skips through the gate when I drop her off, and usually has a great story from the day on the walk home. Yesterday, she couldn't wait to get home with her report card. We were thrilled to see she is above benchmark in most areas; and it came as no surprise she is excelling in art.

After heaps of praise were pronounced upon Curly for the fabulous job she is doing, we asked Hollywood where his report card was. When he responded defensively he had not received it, the flashback began.

In an endless dual of sibling rivalry, my brother never ran home faster than on report card day. During those awkward junior high years, I will concede his academic achievement was far greater than mine. He would dash home to receive his heaps of praise and I would hide mine under the mattress and tell my wise mother my teacher forgot to hand them out.

While my pants burned in fire, an e-mail from Hollywood's teacher confirmed she had in fact forgot to pass out report cards and promised to send them home today.

Yesterday, the memories not just of middle school came flooding back, but also the curse of every mother..." I hope you have one just like you so you can someday understand what it is like to be me." I definitely got mine. He's just way better!

Double Digits

2009-12-31T21:55:00.000-08:00

I don't know about you, but I am ready to send this year up in flames and start anew. Oh the resolution possibilites... Double digits are always better right?

Making Up For Lost Time

2009-12-28T20:26:00.001-08:00

I failed. I committed to thirty days of gratitude and did 11ish. That's less than fifty percent. That's terrible. In my defense, we have had a broken collar bone, Sucrose Guy traveling extensively, my mom move in with us, my mom move out into her own house, the flu, and Christmas. But, just to make sure I complete the task at hand, least I be a quitter...and to assure you have have many things to be grateful for, I give you the other 19ish things that deserve a little thanks in my life.

12. My bed. Oh how I love this piece of furniture. It comforts me at the end of a long day and reminds me there is always tomorrow.

13. My dogs. They never mouth off and really isn't that reason enough?

14. Christmas vacation. While two weeks off school is a tad bit excessive, I love spending time with the kids and not having a schedule. I love doing things at our own pace rather than living by the dictates of the calendar.

15. A roof over my head. While the house we are currently in isn't my favorite. It is a roof over my head and shelter from the uber harsh Arizona winter.

16. Service. There is no better way to be reminded of what you are blessed with than to serve another. No matter how bad I think my problems are, I have come to understand with every act of service, I am grateful I have been given the burdens I have and not the trials and tribulations given to others I have known and served.

17. Fuzzy socks. To slip on a pair of fuzzy socks on a gloomy day kinda makes the day seem ok.

18. Tutoring. I love to see the wheels turn in the minds of young people and to see the kindling of a fire when a child begins to understand a concept and a whole new world opens up to them.

19. The writers group I go to. They humor me by laughing at my jokes and they think I am smart. It's a little boost to the ego every time I go. Everyone should have a place to go where they can feel that.

20. The peppermint dark chocolate ice cream at Cold Stone only available during the holidays. This mouth melting ice cream in combination with crushed oreos is the best dessert ever. The fact it is only available one month a year makes it that much better.

21. Date night. They seem to be less frequent than I would like, but I love when we get to spend time together and remind ourselves of why we dated and got married in the first place. It is on these occasions I am reminded that I not only love him, but I really like him.

22. My car. Although we are currently a one car family, and have been for a year now, AND I just had to spend an arm and a leg on it in "scheduled maintenance," I am so grateful to have four wheels to get me around. I am not going to sugar coat it, I hate exercise and I am glad I don't have to ride a bike everywhere I go.

23. Teachers. My kids have great ones and I can never underestimate the importance of great teachers.

24. Technology. It is pretty much a given that if I was required to hand write letters to keep in touch with friends and family, I would be in trouble. I am grateful for modern technology in all its glory that allows me to keep in touch and watch families grow up.

25. Texting. Technically I know it's technology. But it is in a class all on its own. I love that there is no longer a need for a 45 minute friendly conversation to borrow a cup of sugar. A simple "do u hav sugar i can borrow?" solves the daily dilemmas of life.

26. Laughter. It truly is the best medicine.

27. Family. Everyone needs a tribe to which they feel like they belong.

28. Chicken and waffles. Yes, my birthday present this year was a trip to Lulu's Chicken and Waffles and it did not disappoint. All the servers wore t-shirts that said "Ghetto Hen." I have decided I need one of those.

29. Super Target. While this store is sooooo dangerous for me, I love that I can get my kids clothes, computer supplies, birthday presents, and my groceries in the same place. Those people at Target are geniuses!

30. Joy. I will always be grateful that I have it, but more importantly, I am grateful I know how to recognize it in all its forms.

A Very Merry Christmas Indeed

2009-12-26T12:31:00.000-08:00

In a year where it would be easy to forget what is really important, Hollywood, Curly, and the Wee one have certainly anchored me in rememberance. Joy is found in the little things, and in the time spent together. This is what I will always be most grateful for.

Wishing and Hoping

2009-12-18T09:28:00.000-08:00

Dear Santa,

I really am trying to find the Christmas cheer and be grateful for all I have been blessed with. But the offspring are making it difficult. I don't know how you do it managing all those elves! Why aren't you crying every day asking them if they hate you? Is Mrs. Clause the enforcer in your home so that you can maintain your holiday cheer through the season? I guess if I could eat cookies and hot cocoa all day and find social acceptance in being a "jolly soul" I wouldn't mind the 20 pounds I put on drowning my cares in sugar.

This morning Hollywood stepped in the sleigh in front of the tree and is now complaining his foot hurts. He said it was dark and he couldn't see it. I say he probably thought it was funny to sit in the sleigh and pretend Rudolph was guiding him. I told him limping or not, he was going to school.

Shortly after pedaling pain relievers to both of the older ones and racing to get them in the gate before the morning bell rang, the wee one came running in with her nose scrunched and trying to blow snot rockets. There was an open bag of fruit snacks in her hand and before she even said it, I knew what she had done. I spent the next fifteen minutes with a pair of tweezers dislodging the half chewed fruit snack from her right nostril. Upon successful extraction, she joyfully exclaimed, "yea Momma you did it. Good job!" I reminded her that fruit snacks do not go anywhere but our mouths to which she replied "got it."

Curly's really been a trooper with her broken collar bone (the Motrin is largely facilitating this). But yesterday, she tripped over a cord and fell on her way out the door to school. Then, at lunch, a kid at school plowed into her shoulder which brought on immediate tears and a trip to the nurse. She told her teacher she was fine and stuck out the rest of the day. I am sure it had something to do with the fact they were building gingerbread houses and each got to take home a giant bag of candy and treats.

So this year Santa, will you bring me a vacation? It could come in the form of a hotel for one just to sleep uninterrupted for the night, or a trip to Hawaii, whichever is better for the budget. At this point, I would even take a sound proof room with padded walls and a door that locked from the inside. If it is convenient, just pick me up in the sleigh when you drop by on Christmas eve. Free airfare is always a bonus.

Gotta run, the wee one has been in the bathroom an awefully long time and she's quiet. That's never a good sign.

Still Believing,

K

Where is the Love

2009-12-09T17:56:00.000-08:00

One little monkey jumping on the bed
She fell off and smacked her head
Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
A broken clavical isn't very magical
So no more monkey jumping on the bed.

Make New Friends, but Keep the Old...

2009-12-06T19:47:00.000-08:00

I have never really considered a myself a great friend. I am not entirely thoughtful, I never write thank you's (even though I always think I will), I don't call often, and I discovered last night when I awoke at three in the morning from a terrible nightmare, that I will leave you to fend for yourself if we are in a room together with a psychopath. I am so bad that while I was searching through my digital photos for a picture with friends, I didn't have a single one so I had to google images of friends for the blog picture.

Nevertheless, there are those who will still call me friend. So to all of you, I say thank you. I have learned something from every one of you. There are some of you who will tell me my butt looks terrible in plaid (you get extra thanks!). There are some who will listen to me whine about mundane things. There are some who will let me cry on your shoulder. There are some who let me entertain you so that I can feel like I am good at something. What would I do without all of you? Probably shrivel right up and melt like the wicked witch of the west.

Today, and always, I am grateful for you. Next year, I might even try to be a better friend. Well, at least maybe I'll work on hugging without cringing.

My Eternal Family

2009-12-03T09:00:00.000-08:00

For several months now there has been quite a heated debate over a new temple to be built in the city of Phoenix. There are a couple dozen people who have come together in vehement opposition of it being built. Throughout this time frame, several planning committee meetings have been well attended and emotions have run high on both sides. According to Arizona law, the church has the right to built a temple here, to light it however they want, and to have a steeple height of over 70 feet since steeple height is unregulated in the state. The issue is a grating of a 10 foot variance to accommodate the height of the actual building. In every preliminary meeting, the committees have always voted in favor of the variance approval. Last night was the City Council meeting in which the Mayor and Council would cast the deciding votes regarding the issue. The meeting was held in the Opheum Theater downtown to accommodate all of the people in attendance. The theater was filled to near capacity, yet only 98 people present were in opposition. Vehement opposition.

For the past several weeks, members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints have been encouraged to attend this City Council meeting to show their support of the temple. When I heard it was on a Wednesday night, I nearly dismissed the idea of going entirely. Logan has football games, I have tutoring, and another commitment was scheduled for this night as well. But as the days on the calendar flew by, I began to think, "what if I don't go and the variance isn't grated. What if I could have taken a stand and didn't."

Admittedly, it is a little known fact that I do not in any way shape or form enjoy confrontation regarding issues of a religious nature. Most people who know me are surprised to discover I am a Mormon. I have come to realize this probably because while I have an infinite amount of faith in the gospel, I do not often take a stand. Thus, my palms began to sweat profusely when I slapped on the neon pink name tag which read "I Support the Temple" in big black lettering just before entering the theater.

I knew in that moment I had boldly professed where I stood, and they I may be beaten in a dark parking structure for it. I knew, that if asked, I needed to show others why I know temples are important, and why it is important for Phoenix to have a temple. It's importance is not found in the sales tax or other revenue that will be brought into the city as a result of people coming to the temple. It is not in the increase of property values which often accompanies temples being built. It is not in the peace I find in walking the gardens of the temple grounds.

The importance of this temple being built rests in the family. Within the walls of the temple, families are sealed together forever by the priesthood authority of God. This means that the family unit is sealed together for time and all eternity. Relationship persevere beyond the grave and our mortal existence. Because of the temple, I know that what I have worked so hard here on earth to create within my family will be carried on into eternity. I believe that is worth taking a stand for.

Today I am grateful for temples. I am even more grateful Phoenix will soon have one.

The Long Road

2009-11-30T08:25:00.001-08:00

Today is a big day. A day filled with more gratitude than even I have words for. Since 1971 Momma Bear has worked with the Michigan Department of State. She started part time as a clerk issuing driver's licenses and car title transfers. She retires today as the head of the Motorcycle Safety Division for the entire state.

There has been so much I have learned watching her throughout her career. She has taught me persistence, and diligence. She has taught me courage in pursuit of a better life. She has taught me to be fearless in the face of opposition. She has taught me independence and strength. As an adult, I have come to understand the sacrifices she has made for us as her children.

Today several chapters end and a new one begins. There are still many pages left to write in her book. There is still so much she has to give. There are still many lessons I have left to learn. The first begins on Saturday when she calls the southwest her new home.

Courage

2009-11-27T12:21:00.001-08:00

Yes, I know I missed yesterday, but let's be honest, who doesn't focus on what they are thankful for on Thanksgiving. We spent the day with the scarecrow and his wife and her parents. We sat around the table eating a delicious meal, followed by desserts, and then a few card games. We chatted about this and that, and there was a heated discussion about whether Beef Stew or Spinach was more plain. I voted beef stew, but those in opposition argued at least beef stew can be seasoned, spinach is just spinach. I argued in favor of the spinach because it is colorful, flavorful, and quite healthy. I even used the word "saucy." Scarecrow suggested I dress up as a leaf of spinach for Halloween next year and see how many people call it "saucy." He's rather snarky that one.

I ended the evening with a picture to send to Momma Bear, and the word courage came to mind. As I focused the frame and did a little jig in a failed attempt to get the wee one to smile, I realized every person in the picture lived their life with courage.

Scarecrow exemplifies courage every day by not being defined by a life altering medical condition. One which would leave me rocking in the fetal position in the corner of a dark room. Cosette demonstrates courage by following her heart and living within a set of circumstances that are not part of the dream she built for herself. Hollywood showed much courage by maintaining his standards despite being bullied at school for them. Curly showed courage in attempting to read regardless of the stumbling books she faced and now reaps the fruits of her labors. The wee one probably demonstrates the most courage of all. She has the courage to do naughty things every day in spite of the fact she knows she will be totally busted for them. Her precocious nature is undeterred in sprinkling pepper on the play food, smashing play- dough against the walls of the closet, and lathering the dog in sun tan lotion, because at the end of the day, the thrill of the experiment is more meaningful to her than the time out she receives. Lets just hope she follows in the footsteps of those before her and uses her powers for good not evil.

Fortune Favors the Brave

2009-11-25T19:28:00.000-08:00

It's been a crazy day around here. Between the baking of pies and rolls for the big turkey day tomorrow, cleaning, work, and school, the last thing on my mind was dinner. So after picking some more of those delicious tangerines and grapefruits, we headed off to dinner. It's been awhile since we have had Chinese, and one of my favorite places is over by Grammy's new digs, so we decided to have dinner there.

This particular establishment has these savory cream cheese wantons as appetizers. I mean who can't love a deep fried crispy dough stuffed with cream cheese, green onion, and watercress? While debating whether to purchase 4 or 6 of these bite size pieces of heaven, I was informed that Wednesday is Wanton Wednesday and they are only a quarter each. At that price it was easily determined that 10 would be the perfect amount.

After a feeble attempt to enjoy a delicious dinner with a maniac two year old, a sassy six year old, a grumpy nine year old, and a tired husband, the fortune cookies were quickly distributed. We all took turns reading ours, and sucrose guy read his last. His said "You will have a good position and a comfortable salary." He thinks it was fate he received that particular fortune in that particular cookie, when really he could have received any other cookie with one of our forgettable fortunes just as easy.

Either way, with $.25 wantons and a fortune like that, how can I not be grateful for today?

Food for the Soul

2009-11-24T20:34:00.001-08:00

Tuesdays just might be my favorite day of the week. On Tuesday, it's all about the music. For a few hours every week, I don't have to be a mom, a wife, a teacher; or think about the bills, the laundry, or what to make for dinner. I just sing. I have come to understand that part of who I am craves the opportunity to create. Everyone needs that. To be creating something, or feel validation in something they are doing. Music and writing do this for me.They make me feel connected to something bigger than myself and my day to day struggles.

Today was an extra special Tuesday since Pilgrims and Indians sang too. There was one adorable little Pilgrim standing proudly on the end of the second row with the rest of the "blue group." She was accompanied by rain stick and maraca shakers, and four little drummers. But the music teacher looked like she took a few hits from the peyote pipe before the performance. I might too if I was orchestrating 80 Pilgrims, Indians, and turkeys. Or maybe she was just in her creative zone...

Sucrose Guy

2009-11-23T18:43:00.001-08:00

There are certainly more than ten things I could list for the many reasons I am grateful for this guy, in fact, if I thought about it long enough, I could probably do 30 days of gratitude all on the subject of him. Sure he drives me a little bonkers on occasion, but mostly, he does things for me I would never do for him.

When we were married only about 3 years, both Logan and I had the flu. Not just any flu, but the mother of all flu's. The kind where you can't even lift your head from the pillow without projecting all kinds of nasty from your mouth flu. It was so bad we even gave it to the dog, so he was left to clean up after all three of us. On his birthday no less. Three years later, when that flu came back around for him and he spewed all kinds of nasty all over the bathroom door in his feeble attempt to make it to the toilet, I was not so generous to return the favor of cleaning up after him. There are a lot of things I can do, but vomit, even from kids, is something I am just not capable of dealing with. That there is just a small sampling of the many things he sacrifices for me.

Today, we are just grateful he is coming home. We have missed him, so now, we are off to the airport to fetch him and give him a grand welcome home!

Here We Are Together

2009-11-22T17:21:00.000-08:00

Did I really commit to 30 days of gratitude? Seems a little excessive. I am already struggling at day 3. Hmmm.

Today was a rather sad day for me. I was released from being the Primary Chorister at church. To some, teaching 100 kids songs every week might sound as apealing as repeatedly stabbing yourself in the eye with a knitting needle. But for me, these little people are a bright spot in my week. I love their crazy comments, I love their smiles and their laughter, I love that whenever I see any of them at school, or in a store, or at the park, they always come up to say hello. The younger ones will even run up with their arms wide open for a hug.

Being with the adults really isn't as fun. They don't enjoy human spinner. They don't jump up on their chairs when singing "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam." They don't even sing "Jesus Wants Me For A Sunbeam." This whole hanging out with people my own age is definitely going to take some getting used to.

Falling

2009-11-21T15:32:00.000-08:00

I love autumn. I love everything about it. The crisp air that almost burns when entering the lungs, the hues of red, yellow, and orange in the turning leaves, the smell of apples being pressed at an orchard, and the taste of a warm cinnamon sugar doughnut at the mill.

There are not many of these things to be found in central Arizona, but there is one thing I can always count on. The pumpkin patch. For me, going to the pumpkin patch in October for Halloween is as big of a deal as putting up a tree in December for Christmas. This year sucrose guy thought perhaps we needed to bypass the trip with the grim financial forecast we are experiencing. I told him I would take to the pole for a few nights if I had to so we could go. The compromise was taking a hit from the grocery budget.

Growing up a city girl, I have always found a certain novelty in visiting farms. The baby pigs in a pen to pet, the little yellow chicks running around pecking the ground, the shimmering black cow mooing, and the goats eating from my palm all bring me delusions of having my own animal menagerie one day.

Someday, I will have the white salt box house with black shutters on 6 acres of sloping land with one brown spotted cow, 4 baby chicks pecking the corn meal scattered about, and a pink pot belly pig lying on the front porch next to the dogs. Noticeably absent will be the nasty, pellet pooping, stinky goats that run up and ram you in the bum when you are not feeding them enough.

Until then, I will always be thankful for the pumpkin patch.

An Attitude of Gratitude

2009-11-20T10:55:00.000-08:00

It's been a rough week. I have been channelling my inner grumpy Gus. Or maybe I feel a little like Alexander and his "terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day." Either way it's not good. Last week at church I was asked to be the Assistant Compassionate Services Leader. I cried. I told them they have the wrong girl, because I don't really like people. They laughed. I wasn't kidding.

Then I saw this video and felt like a loser. I know how much I have to be grateful for. I really should start expressing it more and show more joy, less sarcasm. To this end I am attempting an experiment. I am going to express my gratitude for the little things every day. Things like the play dough smashed against the back inside wall of the craft closet compliments of the wee one while I was vacuuming yesterday. I am going to chronicle gratitude for 30 days. Perhaps it will help me show more compassion to those I serve (Umm, doubtful). Perhaps my heart will grow from it's current condition of "two sizes too small." Or, perhaps, it will just help me develop the habit of writing every day. But let me start with today.

Today, I am grateful for the free tangerines we are picking from a family friend's tree. They are truly delicious. The juice runs down your arm before you are even finished peeling them. They are also sweet enough to stave off even the wickedest craving for gummy bears. I hope the same can be said when the chocolate pies at Thanksgiving appear.

So tell me, what is it you are thankful for?

Oh No She Didn't

2009-11-12T09:30:00.000-08:00

She looks so innocent lying there. Like maybe that's how she behaves all day. Well that would not exactly be true. Something inside of her has awakened...and I am not going to lie, it's a little beasty. She is not the first of my children to have this awakening. In fact, we are three for three. It is during these awakenings I want to send them on the slow boat to China for a six month cruise.

But because there are now two older siblings to try and outwit, she is getting pretty crafty. Last week when we went to Costco, I promised her a churro. Upon receiving said churro despite questionable behavior in the store including a rousing game of "Where's Waldo," she immediately licked one entire side so that I couldn't share it with her. Did I mention she's two? Two.

This week's antics include squirting carpet cleaner into the tv while I was trying to srub out the blueberries she mashed in the carpet, resulting in the tv shorting out and being unusable. She has peed countless times on floor because she didn't want to stop what she was doing to go to the bathroom, most notable was was when she peed at the table because she didn't want to leave her dinner. It was not quite the cooking compliment I was looking for. She has stuck gum in her eyelashes, stickers up her nose, drawn on every wall up the stairs, and painted her foot with white out from daddy's office. Yesterday I found a pink streak of lip gloss down the dog's back. She's lucky she's cute...it could very well be her life saving mechanism.

This is Halloween

2009-11-03T08:45:00.000-08:00

I must admit, Halloween is my favorite holiday. After all, it is a holiday with the sole purpose of collecting and consuming as much sugar as your insulin receptors will allow. In our house, it is also the only time I can talk Hollywood into going shopping with me. We go to lunch, and then we plot out where the best place is going to be to find the perfect costume. We get to talk about friends and things happening on the playground. This time we even had to have the conversation about the difference between when a girl says she likes you and when a boy says he likes a girl. Which boils down to the difference between "like" and "like like" Aren't forth grade girls supposed to be into Barbies and Easy Bake ovens, not my son?

Then it's Curly and the Wee one's turn. This year they decided to be matching kittys. We had to scour the valley looking for the right size. We found it about 45 minutes away and headed off. The conversation with a six year old and two year old is quite different than that of a nine year old. We sat on the bar stools at Johnny Rockets for lunch and talked about who was nice at school over grilled cheese squares. We talked about getting our nails done and what color they would be. The wee one interjected a few thoughts, but mostly she just blew bubbles in her root beer.

When the big day arrived, the pumpkins had been carved, and the mummy dogs consumed, we headed out with some friends for the big night. The four big kids were done about an hour and a half into it. Not the wee one, she was a warrior. We kept asking, "Are you done?" The answer was always, "Not yet."

The next morning she locked herself in the bedroom with the dogs and consumed 2/3 of the haul. A preempted strike was then formulated by Hollywood and Curly to protect their loot. If only they were so vigilant with the laundry.

I Gotta Feelin'

2009-11-02T10:34:00.000-08:00

With a little of this on Mondays...

And a little of this on Wednesdays and Fridays...

And a lot of this in between...

(yes that is an entire tube of lipstick on her face, we won't even talk about the fruit snack wrapers all over the floor)

My bedtime is inching up a half hour every day.

At this rate, I will be going to bed at the same time as the kids by Thursday.

In The Name of Love

2009-10-29T11:10:00.000-07:00

The other day while I was at physical therapy getting work done on this,

There was a scrawny, pimply faced 20 year old talking about a concert he had seen the night before. He began to drone on about how horrible the lead singer was, and that the stage wasn't even that great. After about five minutes, he said the unthinkable. That the band was old and needed to just go away. Since I knew there was only one concert in town the night before, and I was there, I immediately sized him up and knew I could take him in a throw down. And throw down I did. Because after all, when Bono brings you nothing short of a deafening night of sheer joy, you must make it known that you worship at the alter of U2.

And so I give you the same reasons I gave in my physical therapy throw down in defense of Bono, The Edge, Adam, and Larry:

1. This was the largest set EVER built for a concert, however, despite the cost, the band insisted general admission tickets be sold at $30 to allow those on a budget in a recession could still receive the U2 joy.

2. Who else can bring together a sold out crowd of 90,000 that included the likes of Mohammad Ali and John and Cindy McCain. I mean Desmond Tutu on screen, Black Eyed Peas on stage and John McCain in the audience? Can't get any more juxtaposed.

3. Nothing sounds quite like 90,000 people singing Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For.

4. Bono singing Stuck in A Moment with nothing but The Edge strumming an acoustic guitar is what the angels will sound like in heaven.

5. You know it's a good day when you are in the bathroom at Cardinals stadium and you feel nothing but pure joy even though you have to stand in line for 20 minutes to relieve yourself of the Diet Coke you spent $6 on.

6. Who else has been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, been nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize for a campaign that has sent 34 million African children to school, with an additional 4 million children vaccinated, and can sell out stadiums around the world? Nobody, that's who!

7. Where else can you have the roof of a stadium open and see the stars above while three giant disco balls create a galaxy of their own within the walls while dancing to With or Without You?

8. When you are having a year like we are, and your mom surprises you with tickets to a concert you have talked about for months, and then fly's out to watch your kids for said concert, you begin to see how people become saviors for one another.

So to the goth kid I still see three times a week, add some Joshua Tree, a little Auchtung Baby, sprinkled with All That You Can't Leave Behind, and a few No Line on the Horizon to your ipod. Educate yourself in the school of musical genius and then come talk to me.

I Would've Loved you anyway...

2009-10-13T12:05:00.000-07:00

Turns out we didn't need the idontknowhowtosmile vaccination at all.

Like most childhood ailments that I tend to obsess far too much about;

They just out grew it.

Brand New Day

2009-10-07T09:50:00.000-07:00

Crazy hair day for a crazy life!

Not so long ago sucrose guy (we are far to poor to call him sugar daddy, but he's still sweet) and I were in the car having a discussion about the experiences we have had in the past year and why different experiences are not readily coming to us. He suggested that I need to write down the experiences we were having so that we could reflect on them, and learn what we needed to learn so that we could move on.

I immediately dismissed the idea, since nearly every day he tells me that I need to write more, sell a book, blah, blah, blah. This in combination with the fact that I not really into journaling, and the fact that I am not into overly personal blogs, was enough to swiftly give him my usual brush off. He however, is quite used to my tactics and made me give him a date by which I would promise to write the experiences down. I grumbled, but being more fed up with life circumstances than I am blogging, I have met the day of my deadline and am sitting at the computer writing them down. Kind of...

Growing up my aunt used to have a large crystal that hung over the kitchen sink in front of the window. Even on a cloudy day, the prism would reflect light from several different surfaces. I think trials are much in the same, in that they can be viewed from many different angles. The cheery "oh I am so blessed because I have this this and this angle." The dodgy "I'm fine" angle. The optimistic "well I know it could be so much worse" angle. And the forgotten perspective angle of "Holy crap when is this going to be over?" I have mastered many of these angles. However, my favorite is the "complain about everything minor in your life to everyone around you so you don't have to talk about the real stuff" angle. Since we are just being honest, and he is making me write it all down, I will tell you sucrose guy latched onto the "I don't want to talk about it" angle for most of this year.

Before I begin the list of experiences we have had this past year, I must tell you I have heard every pep talk on the planet. We have had our names put on prayer roles, we have had council, and we have had help. Above all, yes I know, it could be worse. We have friends hold newborns only a few hours before they left mortality, we have had friends loose battles with cancer, we have had loved ones struggle with disease and financial ruin. I am grateful what I have maintained and grown through this year. I am grateful we have been provided for and most importantly that we have not been swallowed up in despair, but rather found great joy in the things around us. I am grateful that even after short selling a house and losing $200,000 on a house for a job transfer, Nathan having two kidney surgeries, then losing his job, being out of work for four months, completely dissolving all of our life savings, finding a new job but at a 65% pay cut and no health care, praying the kids don't get sick because we can't afford to take them to the doctor, a kindergartner who struggled through the first year of school, a son who has struggled immensely to find his place in this new world we moved him into, and me being completely immobile for a month after tearing all of the ligaments in my ankle that we have still found joy in our lives. I am grateful that I still know how to laugh at life and all that it entails.

I am grateful that while I certainly have had moments of disbelief at being able to financially survive another day, I still find joy in having dinner together as a family, swimming together at the pool, acting out Book of Mormon stories in Family Home Evening, and brownie Sunday. Because at the end of the day, I know that happiness is my responsibility, no one can find it for me, and no one can take it away.

The Morning Song

2009-09-30T22:49:00.000-07:00

I fear I may have missed my calling in life. Sure, I enjoy cracking jokes, writing, singing in large, very large groups, but really what I love is food. Any kind of food. Right down to scrounging for the change at the bottom of my purse to sample the new favor of gum from Orbit.

I am the one who tivo's shows on the Food Network. I am the one who secretly wishes I could attempt the "kitchen sink" challenge on Man vs. Food. Not because I believe I need two gallons of ice cream to soothe myself, but the thought of choosing six flavors of ice cream to ping upon thousands of my taste buds is my idea of going to my happy place.

All of my dream vacations revolve around food to some degree. Before I die, and preferably before I am 40, I must visit Hershey Pennsylvania. I believe heaven is waiting for me there in a giant tub full of warm chocolate at their chocolate spa. On my bucket list is also Vermont, to not only see the trees change in the fall, and witness the sap dripping from trees, but also to commune with Ben and Jerry in all their glory. I must visit England, not just to see Shakespeare's home, and the bridges William Wordsworth sat upon while composing, but to bask in the glory of as many free samples I can consume without hurling at the Cadbury factory.

However, the one attainable manna that has alluded me in the 11 states I have resided is the chicken and waffles. There is no combination I am more fascinated by, and nothing my taste buds crave more than the heat of the hot sauce against the moist juices mingled among spices in a beautiful piece of fried chicken all while the wafting aromas of vanilla and warm maple syrup from a crisp waffle await me.

I have scoured Zaggat in search of the manna. I have tried to convince my husband that two hours is not an unreasonable drive for a perfect meal. This unattainable meal has now become more than a bucket list check to mark off, it has entered the realm of birthday wishes. I dream of a birthday not with cake and ice cream, but a nice big candle in the middle of a piece of fried chicken atop a waffle... I've always been a simple girl...

Imagine

2009-09-25T08:16:00.000-07:00

The joys of teaching your own children are sometimes never realized. The emotions involved when reading with a first grader is something akin to having water continuously dripped on your forehead for 12 hours. The ka-ah-t cat ih-z is ah-nn on th-eh the rah-uh-gh rug. Then there is the practice of Anger Management when interrogating the 4th grade parolee on whether or not there is any homework tonight, and if not then why is the teacher sending home notes every week about missing assignments. My personal favorite is when asked, I respond that indeed 2+2 is 4, the response fired back by a 4'2" person is "no it's not, my teacher said it's 5." It is at this point, the wheels fall off the bus, and I can only reply through clinched teeth, "go ask your dad."

Since I started tutoring, I have discovered this is a common trend in parenting. My favorite thing after each class is to watch the parents first peak their head in the door, as if to assess the damage and sweep for land mines before entering. Once they trepidatiously cross the threshold of the room, they gingerly walk over, and with one eye nearly closed as if to receive the final blow, ask, "how'd they do?" When I am still smiling and respond enthusiastically, "great," a look of shock, then relief washes over their face.

Between the three classes I have, there are nine students. All but two of them have ADHD. All of them are hysterical. Last week, when I was reading a story out load to them, I told them to close their eyes and imagine what a windy day in fall would feel like. One of my 2nd graders instantly shot up his hand and said "Miss Kristi, my imaginary is broke. It's like someone went inside my brain and turned it off, so do I have to close my eyes?"

Teaching other people's children is a joy I receive two days a week. Every Tuesday and Thursday for a few hours, I get to be smart and know what I am talking about. Every Tuesday and Thursday I receive the joy of parents telling me that the tutoring homework is done without the weeping, and wailing, and gnashing of teeth, and that they are amazed. For me, every Tuesday and Thursday is a little like a Stewart Smiley moment when I can look in the mirror and say, "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and daw gone it, people like me."

On My Own

2009-09-14T20:57:00.000-07:00

I love words. Very rarely am I at a loss for them, and there is so much to be conveyed with words. Who couldn't love a word like onomatopoeia. Or when doesn't a good "gosh friggin' dang it" make you feel better? Over the years I have become particularly fond of the words squishy, zen, serendipity, clandestine, smoky, and a few others which shall remain nameless in this here family oriented blog.

But the greatest words to be heard in the house lately have been, "Momma, I gotta go potty." After the initial frenzy to get the wee one to the pot before any accidents occur, there is a moment I have standing there in the bathroom, resting one arm against the marble sink, that I swear I hear the sound of a cash register spinning and the click of coins rolling to a stop in their bowl at the edge of the machine.

Upon completion of potty duties and the "atta girl, way to go, you're such a big girl, I'm so proud of you," congratulatory speech, the corners of my mouth turn ever so slightly in the upward position as I mentally erase diapers from the grocery list, and convert their monetary value into a good book or a pack of chocolate covered strawberries.

Now, about that forth one...

When I See You Smile

2009-09-12T12:33:00.000-07:00

We all know my trifecta rule that cannot ever be accomplished in my life. You know, the thin, rich, pretty trifecta. It is a life long examination in humility for me. See, if I actually ever achieved the trifecta, I would be unbearable to be around. I know this about myself. However, it would seem part of the trifecta mentality has seeped itself into my self identity. Until I see photos of myself.

There are few things in life that serve as a greater reality check than photos. So much so, we have not done a family photo since before the wee one was born. Each time the photos are downloaded to the camera, I carefully scrutinize them for any and all signs of myself. For me, it's a little like pulling off a band-aid. Somehow it hurts less if you just hurry up and get it over with. In those rare instances I find someone has captured me on film, I think to myself, "Really? I look like that?"

In my own mind, and in the mirror every morning, I may not be a beauty queen, but I certainly don't have dark circles down to my 47 chins, and my eyes are not closed from the weight of my cheeks pushing the bottom lid out of existence. There is a moment when I first see a photo with me in it, that I do a reference check. Yes, the tree looked like that, the sand was that color brown, Hollywood looks like that, Curly did her own hair that day, the wee one definitely didn't match that day, but it wasn't worth the battle...then horror fills my soul when I realize "holy crap, I am a little further left of my trifecta than I thought!"

My only hope in all this is school photos. In particular, Hollywood's first grade school photo. Every time I see it, it makes me laugh. I find comfort and hope in it. I know he doesn't look like that. I know he is a handsome boy who was cursed with the idnotknowhowtosmile disease.

The disease is contagious and spreading in our home. School pictures where this week. We practiced smiles for two days in front of the mirror. As we practiced, I saw the idontknowhowtosmile germ jump from the corner of Hollywood's pursed lip grin to the center of Curly's bottom lip. The lip instantly closed, covering all teeth, and as the germ crept it's way to the edge of her eye, the lid closed in defense. Apparently, a few germs hitched a ride to the brain via the snot rockets because while engaged in this rediculous smile, Curly proudly proclaimed, "Look mom, isn't my smile beautiful?"

Here's to hoping a vaccination comes out before next year's pictures.

Crash Test Dummies

2009-08-25T14:06:00.000-07:00

It is a very humbling experience to have an injury which leaves you less than mobile. The humiliation began a mere two hours after I tore my inoperable ankle ligaments. My dinner dates for the evening took a vote, decided I was fine since I "just rolled my ankle," and assisted my limping self all the way to dinner and a movie. However, my limping was quickly derailed by a doctor that assessed the ankle and went a little bug eyed when I mentioned that I went to dinner and a movie, and then drove three hours up north to meet my mom and the kids at my grandparents house. Stupid I know. It was after that jail break I was ordered to "STAY OFF IT" and my journey to total embarrassment began.

Having been carted around in wheelchairs and electric "mobility" scooters for the past three weeks I have begun to notice a few things:

First, there are not many folks under the age of 75 being toted around an airport in a wheelchair. So, when you roll through one with three kids in tow, people stare. And judge.

These judgements I totally understand. The more scooters I drag myself in and out of, the more I realize there are not many thin people that make use of them. I have become hyper sensitive to this fact while attempting to drive myself as close as I can to the Costco sample carts as to not fall over reaching for the latest tasty treat. If only they sampled more brussel sprouts, I wouldn't feel the need to stop.

Stopping a scooter is far easier to accomplish than effectively navigating turns. Suffice it to say, I now understand why trucks post the "Caution, wide right turns" on the back of their loads. Curly and I learned this when I clipped her foot and trapped her under the cart. I swiftly put the scooter in reverse to keep the crocodile tears to a minimum, but those obnoxious beeps accompanying the reverse mode tend to draw a crowd. A mean, judgey crowd of cranky elderly woman who shout nasty things regarding your inability to parent. Like I don't know I shouldn't run over my kids!

However, the judgements may have been a result of the "accident" in combination with the fact that those same kids figured out rather quickly that their little legs carry them at twice the speed the scooter carries me. Continuous games of Where's Waldo are not enjoyable inside Costco or WalMart. Please remind the wee one of this next time you see her.

All in all, I have found the scooters and wheelchairs to be enough of a humiliation. So please, you don't feed the bears at the zoo, so don't judge the fat people in the scooters. They may be old and frail. They may be young and weak boned. And chances are, they are not thinking "It is so cool to ride in a scooter around the store." It just beats sitting at home with one leg in the air.

Pack Up Your Adjectives

2009-08-19T21:01:00.000-07:00

Last May I ran into a teacher in town and she said to me, "It's funny how different our count down is than yours." Never one to be outdone in the snarky department, I fired back through a smile, "Actually I love having the kids home for the summer." It wasn't a lie per say... it just stopped being fun somewhere around week six. Don't get me wrong, I love no schedules, no sports, no packing lunches, and no homework, but the fighting, and the words "I'm bored," really start to become intolerable.

We also learned this summer that while it may be true you don't shovel sunshine, the inferno of Phoenix can still leave you with a wicked case of cabin fever. So, the countdown to school began. Monday was the big day and the kids couldn't have been more thrilled.

Back to School night the week before school starts is our barometer of how the school year will go. Curly Sue discovered her teacher loves horses as much as she does. She also discovered several of her friends from church and kindergarten are in her class. She was very excited to start. The sucker from Mrs Arnold sealed the deal that this year would be her best yet.

Hollywood discovered his two best buddies from his class last year are in his class again this year, and that they got to pick their own seats. He also discovered when mom and dad are around, you have to pick a seat next the front of the class and away from your two best buddies. The disappointment of the latter discovery was tempered by the treat the teacher left at every one's seat.

The wee one re-discovered her love of being home alone with mom. No fighting with anyone, and all of the toys were hers for the plundering. I discovered that the tears shed from the pain of falling while getting out of the car in front of the school with 800 people watching are easily hidden among a sea of mothers wiping their eyes as their children file off into a new school year.

Bad Day

2009-08-18T13:08:00.000-07:00

Lately, even Oscar ain't got nothin' on me. I am a grouch indeed. The reason? The toes on my left foot haven't touched the ground in three weeks. They miss the cool of the tile, the textured bottom of the tub, and even the fiery concrete of a Phoenix summer. They all wiggle, three bend, two tingle, none are actually broke.

All of this is a result of my renowned ability to trip on flat surfaces. I am not sure what occurred other than one minute I was confident, excited for a night out and vertical, and the next I was horizontal and alone on the floor of my mother's garage.

There was really no good reason the first phone call I made lying on the cool, grey cement with my left leg hoisted high in the air was to my husband 2000 miles away. But I must admit, when I am in any manner of suffering, I feel it important he suffer too. During childbirth, I nearly choked him and left all manner of claw marks. When I stubbed my toe and lifted it off the nail bed, I felt it necessary to punch him (partly because he was the reason I stubbed it in the first place). So, between heaving sobs of "I think it's broke, I think it's broke..." Nathan tried to assess the situation.

Eighteen days later, and with much of my life on hold, we are still trying to assess the situation. The R.I.C.E. formula is not working. The entire foot is still swollen. It has turned all shades in the later half of a rainbow, and hurts. Bad. Three days ago I finally conceded and went to the doctor who is now currently assessing the situation. It's not broke, but the ligaments are a hot mess. Tomorrow the Orthopedic Surgeon weighs in with his assessment. I sure hope some one can come up with a solution soon. Vacuuming in the computer chair is not as fun as it sounds.

Let it Be

2009-08-11T08:01:00.000-07:00

A pilgrimage is defined as a journey to shrine of importance in a person's beliefs and faith. Going home this summer was a bit like that. Normally, when the plane lands and the oppressive humid air begins to instantaneously twirl your hair into frizzy kinks, and smears a film across your glasses as you walk from the runway to the air conditioned terminal, I think, "Ugh, I am so glad I don't live here any more." Normally, the airport terminal is dank and grimy, the roads are under construction, buildings are abandoned, lawns are unkept and overgrown, it's 95 degrees with 98 percent humidity, it's raining, and it's buggy. Normally, it's not the vacation I dream of.

But this year...this year was somehow different. Perhaps it was because Michigan is having its third coldest summer in history, which translates to the equivalent of a normal Michigan fall, which is what I believe heaven will be. There is nothing more beautiful than a Michigan fall with the changing leaves, the pumpkins patches, and the cider mills. It is breath taking.

Until now, I believed Michigan to only have one beautiful season. That was before I witnessed a sailboat glide by the lighthouse on the shores of Lake Michigan. Before I listened to the crack of the bat at Comerica Park. Before I heard my children giggle in glee jumping from a trampoline to an inflatable pool. Before I walked the tree lined streets with an ice cream cone. Before I went careening through grass planted sand dunes. And before I was surrounded in a backyard wiffle ball game by people from every stage of my life. People who have all contributed to my faith and beliefs in life. That night I saw the beauty of a state I had forgotten, and I discovered I had made my own pilgrimage home.

So She Dances

2009-07-19T20:40:00.000-07:00

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:"

1. I love that you always want to go with me wherever I go. Whether it is the grocery store, or shopping, you are always there to keep me company. I pray that never changes.

2. I love that your favorite thing to do is to get your nails painted. I hope the simple things will continue to be important to you.

3. I love that when you draw, and create stories, the princess and the knight get married in the temple. I hope you will remember how important eternal families are, even when the time comes to make tough decisions.

4. I love when we are in a store you ask to get something for Logan and Reagan. Your siblings are the longest lasting relationships you will have here on earth, I love that you are good to them.

5. I love that you want to be friends with everyone. Friends are important at every age.

6. I love your compassion. Your tender heart shines through in everything you do, from feeding the dogs, to helping Reagan wash her hands. It is a characteristic people will seek out your friendship for.

7. I love that you don't quit. Even when it is tough, even when the task seems impossible to complete, you see it through. This will serve you well in every aspect of your life. I am proud of you!

8. I love that you are a happy person and find joy in everything around you.

9. I love that you want to learn. Knowledge is the one thing no one can take away from you. You may lose a house, a car, a favorite toy, or even loved ones, but once knowledge is acquired it is yours forever.

10. I love that you let me call you "baby girl" and still love to snuggle. I hope that never changes!

There is so much about you to love. Mostly, I just love you because everything about you is unique to you and who you are. I am honored I was chosen to be your mom!

Smile

2009-07-11T14:27:00.001-07:00

There are many things you believe yourself incapable of doing before you become a parent. Things such as discovering the best way to navigate a onesie off of a newborn at 2:00am after a blow out of epic proportions. Or learning that the stomach flu is going around, after you catch the morning breakfast in the make shift cup from the palm of your hands because nothing else is available so quickly. You also become oddly comfortable with the sight of blood in large quantities. Like when your five year old runs in with blood pulsating from a four inch crack in the center of his forehead. The result of a meteor shower into the Buzz Lightyear pop up tent.

To this point I have been very successful in avoiding the dreaded tooth wiggling, pulling, and bleeding rite of passage for young children. As Hollywood started losing teeth in kindergarten, we were virtually obsolete in the process. The school nurse pulled one during recess, he swallowed one before he realized it was gone, and the others he diligently wiggled, bent, rocked, and twisted out on there way to the tooth fairy. There hasn't been one tooth I have to reach into a slimy, salivating mouth for and pop out...until now.

The past three weeks have been filled with corn on the cob less nights, delicate tooth brushings, and plenty of tooth rocking with the tongue. All in an effort to dislodge Curly Sue's two bottom front teeth. But it has all been accomplished with much trepidation. The four shiny quarters compliments of the tooth fairy have not been quite the same motivator they were for Hollywood. Fear has been the overwhelming motivator, or lack there of, in parting with the only teeth her mouth has ever known. She won't let dad near them since she knows he will dislodge them by any means necessary. She doesn't trust Hollywood anywhere near her face. Which means, it became a job for mom.

It started the other night as a ploy to avert bedtime. As I was wrestling the wee one down for the evening in our nightly match, Curly Sue ran in after brushing her teeth and huffed in panic tones "Mom, mom, my tooth is coming out right now. I swear, right now mom, ehh ehh ehh...I'm scared." To which I replied, "Come here, let me see." Wiggling the tooth back and forth between my fore finger and thumb I gently slid my finger behind her tooth, then slightly underneath, and popped it straight up and out leaving the small hole in her gums to pool with a lovely mixture of saliva and crimson blood. Before too much drama could ensue, and before the wee could escape my evening DDT, I told Caitlyn to go get a tissue for the blood and a baggie for the tooth and the tooth fairy.

When she awoke the next morning to find only one quarter, she briefly felt the pings of a wronged middle child, until Logan came in to show her the other three quaters had slid off the mattress and under the bed. Today, when the neighboring tooth became crooked and could essentially be rocked in all four directions, I again reached in pinched the tooth between my finger and thumb and gave the tooth a good yank.

Now, despite the temperature outside being a flesh melting 113, inside the house a cool breeze blows between missing teeth in Curly's mouth. And if you listen closely, you can even hear a whistle.

Yankee Doodle

2009-07-08T10:08:00.000-07:00

Fireworks just aren't what they used to be. Bottle rockets, sparklers, and flares have been replaced with poppers that shoot streamers and glow worms that look like a pile of growing dog poo. I miss writing my name through the air with a flaming tin stick that shoots off little flesh burning sparks.

Independence Day

2009-07-04T12:26:00.001-07:00

Eleven years ago, sitting on an old seven inch bleacher, I watched sailor after sailor methodically march left, left, left, right, left across the pine floors. The smell of lacquer lingered alongside the anesthetized stench of harsh cleaning chemicals in the humid summer air. A few steel fans buzzed against the trumpets and drums of the Navy band. Each sailor's white uniform told a unique story of service. Emblems signifying this rank or that, a duty station, or a specialized field of study. Not one out of place. Four hundred sailors marched their way onto ships, off to forlorn lands, and into hospitals taking care of the country's wounded and broken.

In the years that have passed most of those young men and women have assisted in earthquakes and hurricanes. Some have saved a soldier's life on the battle fields. Others have been a witness to the birth of new democracies as bronzed statues of oppressive leaders fell at the hands of their people. Still more have come home wounded themselves in attempt to leave no soldier behind. A few have been left behind. A pair of dog tags and a tightly folded American flag with it's stars standing squarely at attention against their midnight blue sky are all that remains of an ultimate sacrifice.

Amid the barren housing and lacking pay, there is an honor in serving. It is revealed in the clean square line of a new haircut, the stretched khaki canvas of a sea bag slung over the left shoulder, and the tiny fingers of a small child grasping the plastic pole of a rippling flag with thirteen strips and stars while his daddy stands firmly planted aboard the edge of a ship beckoned to help another in need.

There is a code they live by. An unspoken brotherhood of understanding. A knowledge that despite the mummer of politics, and the rants of citizens both home and abroad, they are engaged in an important work that connects them to something bigger than themselves, and gives them pride in serving a company and country they love.

To those who have served, continue to serve, and have died serving...thank you.

Send in the Clowns

2009-06-30T10:22:00.000-07:00

As a young child, I was terrified of clowns. I can't say if it was the make-up, the clothes, or the over the top antics, but I was terrified of them. Apparently my mother thought this fear was best addressed with "exposure therapy" and had a clown come to my fifth birthday party. So there I was in my pleated skirt, crisp shirt, bobby socks and piggy tails in the middle of the living room staring down a clown that wanted me to reach up her sleeve for a prize. The reasons I remember so little of my childhood are suddenly becoming very clear.

Now, as the mother of my own 5 year old daughter, I believed her clown fear would be best resolved at the "clown college" of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum Bailey Circus. The first exposure exercise was with a clown that hardly qualified as a clown. He was in a sequence Phoenix Suns jersey, giant shoes, and minimal make up. Still, it did not go well. He was passing out clown noses for the kids. Never one to turn down the possibility of free treats, Hollywood quickly outstretched his arm to receive the prize. Next one was tossed to Curly. The toss to her was not met with quite the zeal and the packaged nose ended up right in the hands of the wee one. Our first exposure therapy failed.

We then moved on to the stilt walkers, acrobats, magicians, and more clowns caught in precarious positions. There was even a painting elephant. The more they saw, the more enthralled they became. Gradual exposure from a safe distance with 200 other kids paid off and we gradually made our way to our seats for the real show to begin.

When they asked for volunteers, I respectfully declined...
Can you imagine the nightmare that would be?

Long gone are the days of the three ring acts, it is more of an assault on the senses these days. Each time I looked over at the kids, I thought I would have to wipe drool from their gaping mouths. There was magic, clowns, acrobats on ribbons, swings, and wheels. There were zebras, horses, elephants, tigers, and even dogs. There was music, smoke, lights, and lots of color. Of course no show would be complete without cotton candy. Although it's been years since I went to the circus, and my distant days of working with the PETA crew had me a bit on edge with the animal trainer, I would be lying if I didn't admit it truly is "the greatest show on earth."

Say

2009-06-28T19:45:00.000-07:00

On occasion when I am in the drudges of my own fox holes in the war on life, I forget that there are many people out there with bigger problems. I would love to say these short bursts of actualization come from reading the Wall Street Journal or the New York Times or even CNN; but the reality of the situation is, I most often realize this being a blogger stalker. I would say that I am a blogger reader, or even engager, but that wouldn't be necessarily true. This is when I decided there were a few rules of blogging I have learned along the way.

Rule 1. Bloggers love comments. My first indication of this should have been all of the posts that people write on their walls. "I love comments," "Leave as many as your heart desires," "You leave comment, I love you long time." But being the emotional dead head I am, I didn't get it until I was totally called down on it after a friend chided that I apparently only leave a comment when I have the opportunity to win something. Touche.

Rule 2. Bloggers view blogs as more of a phone conversation than an online journal. Sure it's a record of life's events, both big and small, but journals don't usually come with a comment feature, and a journal isn't usually checked daily to see if its answered any of the questions you asked it.

Rule 3. Bloggers seek validation. I am of the belief that secretly, most people still feel like the 14 year old freshman on the first day of school looking for a crew to hang with. This is the function of the "Follow this blog" section found on most blogs I write, I mean, stalk. Truth be told, I actually get angry when I see that someone has 161 follows and I have one. Sure I get that I have a polarizing personality, but jeez, one follower that's family. Frankly, it makes me feel like a loser. So I removed the feature. I don't need to be reminded of the fact every day when I am checking to see if anyone has left a comment, or to see how many people have visited my blog to date.

Rule 4. Bloggers that reveal their soul get more comments. Which makes me think if I didn't glaze over my life events the way most glaze their Thanksgiving turkey, I might receive a few comments now and again. Dully noted. Can't commit, but noted.

Rule 5. Bloggers are actually people. Something I often forget. I process the information like I am reading People or E! online. So I hereby promise not to mentally grammar check or fix the flow of your writing anymore. I will remember that you are my friends (or used to be) and that you are writing about your very important lives. I promise that when you blog about the brownies you made for Family Home Evening, I will comment that they look delicious and that I wish you would bring some over. After all, brownies comfort me when people don't comment on how funny all my posts are.

**Editor's note: I tried to remove the "follow me" feature, but my 14 year old self wouldn't allow it. She is still dying to be popular.

Summertime

2009-06-16T08:21:00.000-07:00

It's now been 26 days, 8 hours, and 22 minutes since our summer vacation started. Not that I am counting the 61 days, 23 hours, and 15 minutes until school starts again, I'm just saying that in the 26 days, 8 hours, and 25 minutes, there has been a lot of "sibling discussions" occurring in quite loud tones. Hollywood is annoyed that the wee one keeps taking all of his stuff. Curly Sue is annoyed that Hollywood won't play house with her, and that the wee one keeps taking all her stuff. The wee one is annoyed that Hollywood and Curly are home all the time to watch her take their stuff and play with them. I have come to realize she quite enjoys being the only one at home with momma on most days.

But with all of the "sibling discussions" in loud tones, and everyone annoying each other, and a mom who is sick of wearing a black and white striped referee shirt complete with whistle, a few creative trips have come to fruition. All I can say is thank goodness for the library. So far there has been a puppet show, a juggler, and a craft session. Still on the horizon is the African Drums show and a sand art workshop. Who knew the library would be the cool place to hang out this summer? Or that the kids would beg to go every day?

The other hot spot has been the Water Park at the community center. We go at least twice a week despite Curly's love/hate relationship with the place and the infamous water slides. See Curly's at that precarious state in which she really wants to ride the giant water slides that require 48 inches of height to ride, but she is only 48 inches when her hair is dry. And fluffy. As a drown rat, she is only 47 inches. This all leaves her at the mercy of the lifeguard on duty. So, if the lifeguard on duty sucomes to those giant blue eyes, and perfectly shaped face, she gets to ride until her heart's content. Conversely, if the lifeguard hates their job and is sick of seeing kids squeal in delight as they whoosh down the slides, well then, she's outta luck. What all of this translates to is about 30 minutes of blissful sliding, followed by 30 minutes of crying, which is then topped of with 30 minutes on the 5 meter diving board and swimming with a friend from school or church that she has run into.

It's that same 5 meter diving board that taunts Hollywood's love/hate relationship with the Water Park. He loves the freedom he has to move between the heated pool, and the Water Park. His 52 inches of height allow him to slide until his heart's content. About every 5 minutes he watch his lean frame gallivant up the 2 story flight of stairs for yet another ride. Sometimes with a tube, other times with a buddy he knows. Inevitably, the unheated water gets a little chilly, and he meanders over to the heated pool where he watches Curly pop right off the diving board. Never one to be out done by his younger sister, he briskly walks over to the diving board, climbs the stairs, walks out onto the board....stands there....leans over...squats to the fetal position...and essentially rolls off the board. It is the funniest thing I have ever seen. He HATES that board, but as long as Curly is jumping, so is he. Reagan and I ofter watch from the warmth of the pool stair steps and laugh.

Perhaps in the next 61 days, 22 hours, and 40 minutes Curly will grow that desperately needed inch, she is after all eating her vegetables everyday and drinking her milk so that she will "grow tall enough to go on the water slides." And perhaps Hollywood will give up the five meter board all together, conceding just this once that his sister can do something without him doing it better. One thing I am however quite sure of is that in 61 days, 22 hours, and 35 minutes, the wee one will be awfully glad to have her momma and everyone elses toys all to herself.

Slumber My Darling

2009-05-29T22:49:00.000-07:00

Dear Easton,

After being with your mommy and daddy last week I have thought a lot about how enormously unfair life can seem, and about why you mortal sojourn was so unexpectedly brief. I have thought about your perfect, tiny fingers, and your little white page boy cap. So often I associate a page boy cap on a young boy carrying bundles of newspapers, announcing the news of the day. You too have been called to deliver a message, one of far greater significance than the daily headlines.

When your mom tucked your tiny body in to wake another day, my heart nearly broke in two. Your mommy is a remarkable lady. I am sure Heavenly Father knew that, and so he sent her to you. I am sure he knew she would understand your mortal mission would be brief, and that you would be called back to Him to serve a greater purpose. I want you to know there is so much good you achieved in your short time here on earth.

I have seen the edges of your daddy's heart soften. He has unflinchingly served your mom and big brother with valor. He has been their rock. I witnessed a deeper strength and bond between your mom and dad. I watched as your Grandma Yardley embraced your mom as she stood next to you, longing to hold you in her arms. "It's what we do for our children," she told me; I then understood the sacred reverence of the role of a mother. It inspired me, and renewed within me the kind of mother I want to be.

Your Daddy's family has stood by him and your mom in ways that have undoubtedly strengthened their relationships with one another. Your Uncle Cameron reminded everyone of what it means to be family, and I was humbled by his kindness and understanding. Your Uncle Nathan was in Philadelphia for a meeting and flew home to Arizona, where I picked him up from the airport, and we drove all night to be with your daddy and mommy. The night we were there was the first time all of Grandma and Grandpa Kroeger's kids had all been together for a meal in over three years. The kids played, I got to meet your cousin Hayden, and all of the grown ups sat around talking and planning a trip to be together. You have united them in a way that I have not seen in the 11 years I have known them, and it was a privilege to be a witness to it.

Easton, you accomplished some amazing things in your short life. Things of eternal significance. I am so thankful for you, for the people you have helped us to be, for the things I better understand. I hope I can honor the things you have taught me, and live a life worthy of one day standing beside you, and all of your family, and enjoy the blessing of exaltation.

Until Then,

Your Aunt Kristi

Stayin' Alive

2009-05-26T15:22:00.000-07:00

I feel like an amnesia patient who has recently awakened from a coma and is really ticked off that she cannot account for the last nine months of her life. I am not sure where the time went. Although, soccer, dance, gymnastics, volunteer work, tutoring, and digging down deep to apply my creative side have undoubtedly spun the hands of time faster than I would have liked.

Hollywood and Curly Sue finished their school year last Thursday. There was a slight moment of panic when I looked at Curly's report card and it didn't say she was promoted to first grade, but her grades indicated that there shouldn't be any shockers come August. She has come along way since her trepidatious first assessment before kindergarten last August. She doesn't cry every day when she comes home from seven and a half hours of school anymore. She is above benchmark in all of her reading assessments, which is no small feat after my minor (we'll use that term liberally) freak out on the teacher when I discovered Curly was actually going backwards in December. She likes school and the friends she has made. She loves to tell me about Shannon's favorite color, and that Alexa only likes jelly on her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with no crust. She is happy. What more could I ask for?

Hollywood didn't finish too shabby either. He wants to join National Honor Society next year. He had a thrid grade recorder concert a few weeks ago and rocked it. We have never really had to worry about him adjusting to new environments. After all, this is the kid that as a toddler, would walk up to random kids in the grocery store and ask if they wanted to play (which incidentally would explain his teacher's comments that he has a difficult time working independently and staying on task). His class had to vote on awards that each of the students received at the end of the year. He received Most Dependable, and Biggest Helper. I told him those were admirable qualities in any human and he should be proud that people recognized them in him. Five minutes later he thumped Curly on the head with his water bottle.

Flag football is nearly over and piano lessons start next Wednesday. Curly's moving up a level in gymnastics next week. The wee one is talking in full sentences. She makes what she wants known. She is learning to swim at the water park when we go. She thinks the walls are her blank canvas. The hands of time are not showing any signs of slowing any time soon. I guess I should just hold on for the ride.

Outside Looking In

2009-05-09T09:37:00.000-07:00

Insanity and inspiration are neighbors. In my own head, they are almost twins. At least that's what the self depreciating tortured artist in me says. Every week when I go to rehearsals for PMAZ, I am convinced the director is going to hear me sing and boot my butt to the curb, telling me he made a terrible mistake in auditioning me. On occation, blog writing is a water boarding experience for me. Drafts that are not quite perfect sit in the box for days before they are sent. When I finally post them, my mother calls to dutifully notify me of any errors. (Happy Mother's Day mom!)

With Etsy shops of friends popping up, and some pretty talented photographers flourishing in their businesses, I have become consumed with discovering a marketable talent in myself. I have frantically flipped over plenty of bushels and dug out many holes in the backyard looking for my talents. But, in a brief moment of inspiration not long ago, the annoying elfin creature, who sits on my proverbial shoulder and is named Sam, whispered the magic thought of grandeur to me.

"Teach classes at the Community Center," he chided.

Those six words eventually evolved into e-mailing the director of the Community Center to discuss the possibilities of teaching Literature Seminars and Writing Workshops, as well as tutoring. I really didn't believe I had a fart's chance in a hurricane of landing the job, but I was insane enough to think it was an inspired thought.

After showing a three member panel some of my own writings, a mock workshop, and explaining my philosophies of education and tutoring, I am getting my own page in the catalogue of available courses. My throat verps at the thought of it. They are going to figure out I am a fraud, the catalogue is going to have a giant red "CANCELLED" stamp across my classes. Sam is definitely going to have to come to classes with me.

Rock A Bye Baby

2009-04-23T23:07:00.000-07:00

I must admit, I have had quite a lousy attitude as of late. Perhaps it is the stress of life, perhaps it is the cheerful denial of much of what has occurred in the course of the last year in our family. But it seems as though the burdens have been resting quite heavily upon me. I know I worry about far too many things. Things that are ridiculously out of my control. Mostly, I worry about my kids. I fear that I have failed them. I fear that I have not given them everything I possibly can to ensure their every happiness. A fair shot of surviving the world they will grow into.

A trip to the Post Office last week helped give me some much needed perspective. As I was yelling at Caitlyn to hurry up and get out of the car so that I could mail off all of our tax information, I noticed a rope around the landscaping in front of the building. There was a small gathering of people with binoculars, and cameras. I turned around to see two baby gray horned owls in a nest their mother had build in the arm of a very old, very large suaro cactus.

Caitlyn asked why a mom would build a nest in a cactus. She feared the babies would get hurt. I thought the same thing, until I started to walk around the entire space looking at the nest from every angle I could. It was then I understood what the mother had done. She had build her nest in a large enough space for the babies to be safe, and yet they were protected by the very needles she had built her nest upon. I am sure it was painful to craft such an environment. Yet she knew the babies would thrive there. They have. They are perfectly safe in the most unlikely of places.

Like the owls, I am not sure I could have predicted the place I call home or the life I have, but I think I get it now. You can be happy in the most unlikely of places or circumstances. You just have to walk around it, figure it out, and see just how big the possibilities are.

Here Comes Peter Cottontail

2009-04-21T13:19:00.000-07:00

So what's a mom to do when the wee one brings her all of the Easter eggs that the Easter Bunny fills? Freak out? A little, but when in doubt, figure it out. We just put all of the empty eggs in the baskets for E.B. to fill. It actually turned out great because we then color coded the eggs for the baskets. Logan got green and blue, Caitlyn got pink and a few yellow and green with her name on them, and Reagan got purple and yellow. Of course E.B. left an empty one in their baskets to remind them of of why we celebrate Easter. That discussion was the best part of the day, it was led in part by Aunt Joce, who no doubt was praying for a little divine intervention herself in that moment.

Since Logan is getting older, E.B. is finding craftier ways of hiding his basket.

It took him about 20 minutes to find it.

Reagan's rules for egg coloring:

1. drop egg in cup with great force

2. pull out immediately with hand

3. inquire why the egg is "bo-kin"

4. pick off egg shell and take three bites

5. repeat until all of your eggs,

sister's eggs, and brother's eggs are colored and broken

They both loved their pink!

The apple never falls far from the tree....

The girls were happy to take a picture...as long as no boys were allowed

The sweetest part of Easter!

Caught Up

2009-04-16T18:38:00.000-07:00

There's been quite a flurry of activity these past several weeks in our home. First up was the Pinewood Derby. Logan did great for his premiere at the events. He loved painting his car that he and his dad did together, so much so that my kitchen table is still showing the remnants of the red, green, and silver love.

A few weeks later was our annual Anthem Days here in town. It's a mini fair at the community park. There are vendors hawking their products, pre-schools, and psychology. There are all the traditional fair foods; roasted corn, snow cones, and fry bread. There are bounce houses, pony rides, and music. But best of all, it's the time of year that the carnie's descend on our little town and charge rates comparable to that of securing life insurance. It cost $12 for Nathan and the kids to ride ONE ride. The Starship 2000 was the chosen one this year. Back in my carnie loving days it was better known as the Gravitron. You know the one where they spin you around at mock 5 and then drop the floor out from under you? I thought for sure Caitlyn would bow out and Logan would puke. Turns out they are natural born spinners and loved it.

The other ride for the day was the giant train. It's a 6 car train that goes all over the community area in the center of town. It comes complete with trips over bridges and through tunnels. We have wanted to go since we moved here, and it was a beautiful day to ride.

We have also hit up a hockey game. Nathan and I have been before, and we thought that there was enough action to keep the kids entertained. Logan loved it. He wanted to ride the Zamboni. Who doesn't? As long as she was eating, Caitlyn was mostly pacified. But then there's Reagan...and Dora. To a 2 year old, a coyote mascot looks much like a fox. More specifically a fox named Swiper. She lost her mind when Swiper came out on the ice riding a four wheeler to give away a motorcycle. She of course believed Swiper was swiping the bike and was screaming at the top of her lungs "Swiper no swiping, Swiper no swiping." When the bike was securely in the hands of the winner, she replied, "oh man..." I am not sure how many more games she will be attending.

All and all Arizona has been lovely this spring. I imagine it is much like fall for those with four seasons. It is a great couple of months, but you know you have to soak it all in before the dreadful weather rolls in...but on the bright side at least we spend our dreaded months at the water park and not shoveling snow.

4 Minutes...

2009-03-25T09:23:00.001-07:00

I have to go out on a limb and out myself. And then, I will have to repent. You see, shortly after Nathan and I got married, we went to his house in West Point, Utah for what we thought was going to be a family dinner. So me being...well... me, started in on how ridiculous Wrangler jeans and Roper boots were and how I could NEVER be a farm girl, and then a story of me was recounted of when we went to the Elk reserve and I thought you could actually pet the Elk. I know, I know. Well, turns out that the family dinner was actually a surprise birthday party for Nathan. As each dear old friend of Nathan's filed in in their "fitted" Wrangler jeans and Roper boots, my plate of crow pie grew.

Fast forward 10 ten years, and not so much has changed. My foot is often still suck in my big mouth, and I am still a city girl. But this weekend we got in touch with our Cowboy side at an old western town set up called Rawhide here in Phoenix. We saw the gun fight, witnessed the sage coach, enjoyed a rodeo, and my kids dabbled in the cowboy life.

It all started during the Rodeo when they announced that for a dollar kids 6 and under could ride a sheep. Having just watched kids riding the donkeys down the western front street, I asked her if she wanted to ride the sheep. Being the city girl I am, I didn't know that riding a sheep in the Rodeo ring was more like riding a small bull than a mellow donkey. Neither did she. But the 10 kids that rode before her tipped her off. Especially the one that was trampled by the sheep. She was a little nervous by that point. I told her she could do it, the rodeo clowns would protect her, and she really wanted the necklace they give you when you are finished riding. So, when her turn came, they picked her up, released the sheep from the gate, and we watched her go around that rodeo ring hanging on like a spider monkey in a skirt and pink cowboy boots. The sheep however, much like the bull in the rodeo, didn't enjoy the riding session and tried to buck her. The bruise on her chin still reminds her of unique encounter with the sheep's head.

Never one to be out done, Logan then rode the mechanical bull. His palms were a bit sweaty, his nerves tried to get the best of him, but he rode his 8 seconds to glory. Right before the bull bucked and he was flung to the mats below. Afterwards I asked him if he ever wanted to ride a real bull to which he replied "uh no way!" That's my boy!

Reagan even logged some pony time. And as we left, I told Nathan I had a really good time. I even mentioned we should go to the rodeo next time it was in town. We could make a date of it. As long as I could wear my flip flops and comfy jeans.

Happy Birthday Logan!

2009-03-09T10:28:00.000-07:00

Ten Things I Love About You...

1. I love when you give a little side smile. It shows me you still want to be that little kid who loves to snuggle even though you think you might be getting to old for that kind of stuff.

2. I love your prayers. They are representative of your compassion for others.

3. I love your desire to always serve those around you. You help get your sisters breakfast and then stay after school to help your teacher clean up the class.

4. I love that you wake up so cheerful and ready to start the day.

5. I love that you ask questions.

6. I love your honesty and that you feel like you can talk to dad and I about anything. I hope that never changes.

7. I love that you are always willing to try new things.

8. I love that you love to read. I love to tuck you in at night at talk about all of the books you are reading, from "Tales of a Forth Grade Nothing." to the biography of Barack Obama.

9. I love that you look up to your dad and want to be like him. He is a good man and loves you very much.

10. I love that you want me to stay at home to be with you. I am so grateful that I have never had to miss a moment of your experiences. The wonder and excitement you have for life makes me honored to be your mom.

Momma Mia

2009-03-02T16:02:00.000-08:00

Conversations with the kids...

1. What is something mom always says to you?

C. "no, I mean yes"

L. "NO"

2. What makes mom happy?

C. Cleaning up

L. When the house is clean

...See I am easy to please

3. What makes mom sad?

C. When Reagan pinches you

L. When we don't listen

4. How does your mom make you laugh?

C. Tickle me

L. When she does something funny

...or stupid like fall off a chair because I am not paying attention

5. What was your mom like as a child?

C. Watching tv and playing

L. You were...nice to people?

Do you like that he posed it as a question as if I am not now...sheesh

6. How old is your mom?

C. "Uh I don't know, uh 25."

L. 32

7. How tall is your mom?

C. I definately don't know that

L. 5'4"?

8. What is her favorite thing to do?

C. Watch tv and clean up

L. Go get a pedicure and a massage

...We must not live in the same house

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?

C. Work on the computer, watch tv, clean up

L. Clean up, keep Reagan from running out of the house

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?

C. Church

L. Writing

11. What is your mom really good at?

C. Helping us

L. Writing

12. What is your mom not very good at?

C. Definately not good at carrying something

L. Getting places on time

...so apparently my inability to get anywhere on time doesn't go unnoticed

13. What does your mom do for her job?

C. clean up the house and make dinner

L. you don't have one

...Again with the eternal praises for staying home with my children

14. What is your mom's favorite food?

C. macaroni and cheese

L. artichoke

...crab

15. What makes you proud of your mom?

C. making dinner

L. She does lots of things for us

16. If your mom were a character from a book, who would she be?

C. sheesh this is hard, is this almost over?

L. Herminie from Harry Potter

17. What do you and your mom do together?

C. play games

L. go to the park or homework

18. How are you and your mom the same?

C. we both like to go shopping

L. both have a dent in our nose

19. How are you and your mom different?

C. don't have the same eyes or hair, but we both do have dots on our skin

L. you're a grown up and I'm a kid

20. How do you know your mom loves you?

C. 'cause she kisses me every night and hugs me and tickles me

L. by taking me cool places

21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?

C. The Crab Place

L. The spa

...a desereted island...by myself...I relly don't get there often enough

22. What do you wish you could do with your mom?

C. I wish you could play with me everyday and not have any work

L. Go to Chuck E Cheese

23. What's your best memory of your mom?

C. When we went to Pioneer Village and watched the Indians dance.

L. When we went to Disneyland on my birthday

Can You Hear the People Sing

2009-02-19T09:02:00.000-08:00

Did you know that Arizona was the 48 state to enter the union? That it became a state on Valentine's Day? Did you know that Wyatt Earp's Great Grand Nephew looks exactly like him? Did you know that all houses were adobe in Arizona until the railroad was brought in and with it lumber to build houses? Did you know that a senator from Minnesota 98 years ago did not want Arizona to become a state in the union because he said "all they got is Mormons and Mexicans?" I didn't know any of these things until last Saturday when we went to Pioneer Village for a performance of mine. It is a 28000 acre recreated village from Arizona at the turn of the century.

We learned a lot that day...

1. When you are singing on risers and end up on the back row, you really need to pay attention to the drop behind you.

2. Don't refer to the likeness of Wyatt Earp's nephew as creepy during his leading of the pledge of allegiance and the Arizona State Proclamation. Both the nephew and the microphones are sensitive.

3. When your son says "look mom, she looks like Sacajawea," don't think American History is being taught younger, be grateful for the $8 you spent to see Night at the Museum three years ago.

4. When a miner hands each of your children a bag of gold, tell them it's probably not real gold before they try to spend it at the gift shop.

5. When a pioneer teaches you how to knit off of a spool and says that children a hundred years ago did it for fun, don't believe her...it's not.

6. Penmanship was better and more fancy a hundred years ago because there was nothing else to do. It was knit or write pretty.

7. Homes were a lot smaller a hundred years ago. A three bedroom, 800 square foot house house held 6 people and still had a parlor for the piano. I probably don't really need much more when I think about it.

8. Wildlife is a lot closer to us than we probably want to admit. Like the mountain lion that lives on the mountain next to us, or the bats the we catch glimpses of in the car headlights at night, or the scorpions that scale the stucco beams on the front porch.

9. DO NOT stand too close to the pig pen, it is a decision that will cost you a shot of pig poo and mud to the eye, cheek, mouth and shirt.

10. I am so grateful I was born in the 20th century and not the 19th. I was not cut out to be a farm girl, or live off the land with the animals. If anyone doubts this, please refer to the incident in number 9.

Wasting Time...

2009-02-18T15:32:00.000-08:00

Pick the month you were born:

January-------I kicked
February------I loved
March--------I karate chopped
April----------I licked
May----------I jumped on
June----------I smelled
July-----------I did the Macarena With
August--------I had lunch with
September----I danced with
October-------I sang to
November-----I yelled at
December-----I ran over

Pick the day (number) you were born on:
1-------a birdbath
2-------a monster
3-------a phone
4-------a fork
5-------a snowman
6-------a gangster
7-------my mobile phone
8-------my dog
9-------my best friends' boyfriend
10-------my neighbour
11-------my science teacher
12-------a banana
13-------a fireman
14-------a stuffed animal
15-------a goat
16-------a pickle
17-------your mom
18-------a spoon
19------ - a smurf
20-------a baseball bat
21-------a ninja
22-------Chuck Norris
23-------a noodle
24-------a squirrel
25-------a football player
26-------my sister
27-------my brother
28-------an iPod
29-------a surfer
30-------a homeless guy
31-------a llama

What is the last number of the year you were born:
1--------- In my car
2 --------- On your car
3 ----------- In a hole
4 ----------- Under your bed
5 ----------- Riding a Motorcycle
6 --------- sliding down a hill
7 --------- in an elevator
8---------- at the dinner table
9 -------- In line at the bank
0 -------- in your bathroom

Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:

White---------because I'm cool like that
Black---------because that's how I roll.
Pink-----------because I'm NOT crazy.
Red-----------because the voices told me to.
Blue-----------because I'm sexy and I do what I want
Green---------because I think I need some serious help.
Purple---------because I'm AWESOME!
Gray----------because Big Bird said to and he's my leader.
Yellow--------because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars
Orange--------because my family thinks I'm stupid anyway.
Brown---------because I can.Other----------because I'm a Ninja!
None----------because I can't control myself

Now type out the sentence you made and post it in the comments below

Good Night My Angel

2009-02-08T21:46:00.000-08:00

I am by nature, not a cuddle machine. It is a flaw that drives my husband, who is by nature a cuddler, insane. I can't help it, I enjoy my space. Unlike a cow in the chute of a slaughterhouse, when pressure is applied to me, most often in the form of a hug, it neither calms me down, nor soothes me. So imagine my dismay when sometimes all three of the kids end up in my bed on any given night. I often wake up to a foot in my rib or a hand on my face. But most nights I find Reagan in the crook of my arm about 3:00am. I have finally gone on strike. Nathan wants his wife back, and I want my bed back.

So we hatched a plan. We believed it to be fool proof. It was only going to take a few days...we would put Reagan in with Caitlyn and then Reagan would have someone to sleep with, and Caitlyn wouldn't be scared - because someone else would be in her room with her. No more tears and a full night's rest, is there anything better?

Well a few days has turned into a few weeks, and things are not going according to plan. We have had to take shifts laying down in the girls room getting them to fall asleep, Nathan has taken the last few nights, and well, laying down turned into sleeping there. Tonight, I went to check on them and found Reagan's new cuddle buddy. So much for plans...

When You Wish Upon A Star...

2009-02-02T19:55:00.001-08:00

When we found out that we were pregnant with Reagan, we decided not to find out what we were having. I wanted that magical moment in the delivery room when they hand your beautiful baby to you and say "here is your little..." Needless to say our magical moment in the delivery room wasn't exactly magical. In fact it wasn't even in the delivery room, we never actually made it there. Our magical moment occurred in a hallway when they cut Reagan out of my pant leg. I asked what we had just before I fainted from the pain of childbirth.

So here we are now two years later, and that little baby who rushed her way into this world, is still on the go. Her "art work" adorns the walls in the hallway and up the stairs. Her babies and "melmo" are "riding" in every stroller, car, shopping cart, and inchworm that is mobile. The teak table is covered in bubble juice, and the porch resembles the beach, a result of her frog sandbox sharing it's contents. My floors are covered in mashed strawberries, and her face is a mesh of crackers and juice. That is, when it is not beatified with $20 lipstick and blush from my make up bag. I have gone through three tubes of mascara this month. The dogs have a hearty diet of corn dog left overs and carrot sticks for lunch, they have gained 10 pounds each. There are days I think she may make me lose -my- mind. But then she says "Hi mom, lub you." Some day I know I will miss all of the chaos created by this little whirl wind of girl. Today, I will try to enjoy it.

Stupid Girl

2009-01-14T14:03:00.000-08:00

There are only two things in life that terrify me. The Bogey man, and doing anything in public that means something to me personally. Not things like public speaking, or opening my occasionally offensive mouth to make a stupid comment, but things like singing. You know the kind of singing where people are looking at you, waiting to see what sounds your vocal cords will produce so that they can judge you.

I regrettably believed this fear was replaced with a fair amount of confidence a few years ago when I agreed to do a "special musical number" for a church Christmas program. Oh it was special. So special, I was never asked to perform again. I was the proverbial "white elephant" in the room. My nerves had gotten the best of me, and if anyone would have had a wine glass, I would have broke it with the noise that came forth from my mouth. Hideous!

Imagine then my shock and subsequent horror when I received a phone call yesterday at noon in which a friend excitedly told me I had an audition for ProMusica. It's a choir that sings with an orchestra. Some members drive up to two hours to be a part of this group. Most of them have grey hair and music degrees. I have neither. Apparently they didn't get the memo that I suck. I have evidence, people witnessed my horror. But I went. Probably because my friend said she would meet me there.

The Director was a half an hour late, he kicked everyone out of the room (a tender mercy), he made me do scales, I had to sing notes from memory in a different key than he played them, I had to sing America the Beautiful with no accompaniment. I momentarily forgot how it went. Then, he handed me a piece of Mozart music and told me to sing it. A page full of Alleluias. My hands were beyond clammy, and my brain short circuited on several occasions. The audition was nearly 45 minutes long and interspersed with comments about an airy quality when I wasn't in my vibrato, and that my neck muscles were too tense. Then he made me sit through the two hour rehearsal and eight pieces of music and listened to me sing.

Turns out, it was for the best. He said yes. So to my psyche that speaks such negativity to me, and to my brother who openly mocked this two time state champ, and laughed out load at the Christmas debauchery, I say......Neiner, Neiner, Neiner.

Santa Baby

2008-12-27T16:53:00.000-08:00

I love Santa, I really do. He brings me such joy this time of year. He offers me such leverage. Nothing trumps the threat of Santa not coming. These are the only two weeks in the year where sharing abounds and fights are found few and far between. Why? Because "I will call Santa right now and tell him to just go ahead and fly right by this house if you two don't knock it off!" I love that Christmas Eve my kids go to bed without negotiation or chatter because why? "If you two don't go to sleep right now, I will wait up for Santa and tell him that you made the naughty list this year."

The wee one is still too young for such Santa candor, so she indulges a bit more in the naughty list. Here are a few fine examples of what our naughty and nice list looked like this year.

Naughty: Breaking the head of the Raggedy Ann ornament. When asked who did it, everybody blamed somebody and nobody said he did it. Home surveillance tape shows the perp to be about 2 feet tall.

Nice: The kids made a few ornaments this year to add to the homemade tree. There is something very special about unwrapping these ornaments year after year and hanging them on the tree. There is a bell that sits near the top of our tree that my great grandmother made.

Naughty: Standing in the kitchen for 6 hours baking pecan sandies, sugar cookies, and seven layer bars, only to have Reagan lick 75 percent of the decorations before any of us could actually decorate the cookies.

Nice: The tradition of sugar cookies in our home. Every year I bake all 80 of them and the kids decorate them. They then pick their favorites to put on a special plate for Santa. I love that they will have this memory.

Naughty: The flu. Does anything more really need to be said. The most classic flu moment occurred at Christmas dinner when Logan quite calmly stood up from the table and proclaimed "Well I guess I will go to the bathroom since I just dropped a load in my shorts." He hasn't quite mastered the whole social filter thing yet.

Nice: I have had to clean out relatively few puke bowls since my mom is in town. My gag reflex is far too quick on the trigger for vomit. Pus, blood, guts, and poo are totally fine and within my capacities. Vomit, not so much.

Naughty: Santa kind of jipped the oldest. It occurred when in those few days before Christmas I dragged out all of the things that had been squirreled away for months. The neglected middle child was over compensated for, the wee one still isn't really into the whole present thing, and the oldest, who savors everything Santa, had a pile of 3 things.

Nice: Everyone thinks Santa is this really great guy because he sacrifices all of his time one day of the year to take toys to kids all over the world. His reward is countless homemade cookies of all varieties and a glass of milk with each one. You don't hear much about Mrs. Clause. Well, it's Mrs. Clause that does all of the toy making, and ensures that each child is well taken care of. She's the one looking for a parking spot at Target the day before Christmas Eve at 10:00pm to get the most desired item of the eldest child. Her reward? Rockband!! Total score, I am so almost ready to start touring with my mad skills.

Naughty: 5:00am. That's the time we finally let the kids get up. Actual time they woke up 2:00am.

Nice: 5:00am any other day of the year is appalling! But on Christmas day, it is pure magic. Santa always leaves the Christmas tree lights on, that's how you know he's been there. When you are up in the wee hours of morning, before the rooster crows, and the sun peaks over the horizon, those tiny colored twinkle lights of the tree faintly light up the haul below, and the kids squeal with excitement. That is the magic of Christmas.

Naughty: It has been a rather tumultuous year for us. I can say with a fair amount of certainty that 2008 was so NOT my favorite year.

Nice: But it was a year of tremendous growth and learning. The refiners fire has taught me more than I believed I was capable of. I have learned during this season of Christ's birth more about the power of his atonement. I have learned that asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but rather an opportunity to learn great depths of humility. I have learned that friends are a source of strength that I believed only families held. So to "Santa's Helpers" thank you. We couldn't discern your scampering feet, but the gratitude I have is unparalleled to anything I have been grateful for before.

With a house full of kids and dogs the naughty list seems to grow faster than a weed in spring rain. Good thing we have so many nice things to be thankful for!

Here Comes Santa Claus

2008-12-12T14:02:00.000-08:00

A few years ago I told my kids the story of how I saw Santa putting presents under the Christmas tree when I was five. It was magical peaking around the corner watching him pull presents out of his sack and carefully sack them by the tree. I didn't think much of telling them this story until the other day on the way to school Logan mentioned that the existence of Santa is a real hot topic on the playground. Logan, being the lawyer in training that he is, made his case for Santa and sited my tale of seeing him as a child as his evidence. In his mind, case closed. Caitlyn, being the direct child she is, flat out asked, "Is Santa real?" So now added to the list of excellent qualities I have as a mother, lair can now be found there.

Well with all this talk of Santa, and reindeer, and the North Pole, we decided to seal the Santa deal and took them on the Polar Express. During the summer, this train operates as the Grand Canyon Railway taking thousands of people through the Grand Canyon. But come December, the train becomes the Polar Express to the North Pole to see Santa.

On Wednesday we picked the kids the kids up early from school and started the 2 1/2 hour drive to Williams, which is at the base of the Grand Canyon. The first hour was smooth sailing, the kids all fell asleep because they knew it was going to be quite a long drive to the North Pole. During the second hour, we stopped to eat, and it was in that last 45 minutes that the assaults on one another began. It started with the paper bag from dinner being turned into swords. It ended with Caitlyn telling a french fry "You should be dead by now." I know, right? Where do they get this stuff? So after the little chat on why we don't say we are going to kill things, we all hopped out of the car to see Santa.

The train ride was very exciting for the kids. Everyone wears their pajamas and the elves on the train give each person a hot chocolate and cookie and then they read the story of the Polar Express. By the time you reach the North Pole, Santa is on his sleigh and an elf is loading the bag of toys. Logan was hanging half way out the window to make sure he got the chance to see the North Pole up close. I am sure he wanted to submit it for further evidence in his case. Santa then boards the train and gives every child who believes in him a bell. Then on the way back everyone sings songs.

I debated for a while as to whether or not I "heard" the bell ringing, but in the end, I heard it. All 97 of them on the train. But it's Christmas right? And what's Christmas without a little magic?

I Have Been Blessed

2008-11-25T20:26:00.001-08:00

Since my birthday and Thanksgiving are within two weeks of each other, I have spent much of my "drive time" thinking about this year, what I want out of the next, and what I have to be thankful for. And because so many expressed concerns about the last post, I figured it was high time to bust out more of my insane self and give you a few thoughts on the ten things I am thankful for. It would be easy to give answers like family, kids, friends, and yeah I am thankful for those things, very thankful; but there are the other things in my life that need to feel the love too.

1. Smiles. They are my form of hugs. Being the infinitely affectionate person I am, hugs are a little...oh shall we say...uncomfortable. A smile, and a half wave all are I need to make my day. It shows you care, really.

2. Musicals. I freakin' love um! I mean really, how can you not bop your head and tap your toe when Donny Osmond is singing "Any Dream Will Do." Or feel like Broadway should be calling you any minute because of how good you can belt out "On My Own" in the shower. Even my brother enjoys "Memory " from Cats.

3. Flip Flops. Some of you may know that I HATE socks. HATE them. My feet feel so trapped and when I wear them, all I can think about is how my feet can't breathe when they are covered in socks and shoes. (I know some of you are thinking 'why am I friends with her' about now, but stick with me) Nathan makes me wear socks at least once a week because he says he doesn't enjoy the daily exfoliating treatments he gets in bed from my dry heels. But those other six days I can't wait to get in the closet and get the flips.

4. Words. Although I am an atrocious speller, I can generally find words, even if the situation escapes them. Situations like when you are walking into a store in quite a hurry and you cut the corner a little short and knock over a display. Walmart people don't want to hear "Holy crap, I totally didn't see that," they just want you to clean up the Mac and Cheese on aisle 8.

5. Sense of Humor. It is almost as if the angels said, "there will be many storms in your life, here's the galoshes to play in the puddles.

6. Facebook. Not only is it a place to find people that I haven't seen in 15 years, it's yet another place for me to be humiliated. Like when I thought that I knew someone and was shocked to find them, carried on several conversations via 'the wall' with them, and then realized I had no clue who they are. The person I knew had a different last name.

7. Sunsets. The Arizona sunsets have nearly cost me license. Every night when the hues of purple, blue, orange, red, and yellow peak just above the mountain tops, I forget that I am driving a two ton vehicle and nearly crash into oncoming traffic. My sense of humor makes me laugh, the sunsets make me grateful.

8. My husband. I know I said I would move beyond family, but really the guy deserves some sort of badge of honor for ten years with me. Don't get me wrong, medals are deserved all the way around, but I have pretty much said every stupid thing there is to say both in private and in public, I have freaked out on him more times than I care to remember, and dragged him more places than he cares to remember. He is the yin to my yang, the calm to my crazy.

9. People Watching. It is my form of therapy. When I think I am losing my mind, I go to the mall and watch people to feel better about myself. Like when a lady screams at a sales associate in the store because something hasn't gone according to her expectations. I so would never do that. I would leave the store and talk about behind her back. That is what rational, non- crazy people do.

10. My own skin. I haven't always been ok with being me and felt that I needed to be a chameleon of sorts to please people, or to feel a part of things. I think I may be growing out of my 12 year old, middle school self, and be ok being me. Even if that includes flinging around a hanger while chatting with friends and forgetting that the hanger has a flaming marshmallow stuck to it. I have come to realize I am a little more animated than I thought.

So there it is, ten things to be grateful for. And ten things to work on for next year. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Farewell

2008-11-13T12:40:00.000-08:00

There is no greater suffering than that of trying to answer the question of why. It is "mortality's supreme test" and often leaves us disparaging, confused, and raging. This is never more true than in the inevitable face of death. Why one day a vibrant mother of three can be having dinner with friends who have known each other forty years, and have seen each other through the deep waters of lives well lived, is found the next day on the side of road, in the teetering space between life and eternity. There is no fairness, no equality, no logic. But in the hollowness of why, lies the harrowing of hope. Hope that we too can can live a life full of love, service, kindness, laughter, and passion. Hope that we can continue to weave into future generations that which has been fortified by the generations before. Hope that beyond the despair of aching loneliness, awaits the peace of placant memories. Hope that one day you shall stand before your maker and find your family encircled about you, reminding you of a life fully lived.

Crossing the Bar

Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home!
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For though from out our bourn of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.

--Alfred Tennyson

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2008-11-08T08:49:00.001-08:00

It's the most wonderful time of the year. There'll be pumpkins for craving, and candy for snarfing, and costumes galore...It's the most wonderful time of the year! We love Halloween. More so the season of fall in general, but really Halloween is the most fun, least stressful holiday. I mean really, when else can you steal candy from your kids without them noticing or throwing a full fledged fit? Even the dogs got in on the action this year.

The best part of Halloween is always the pumpkin patch. This year they had one at the community center right next to one of the ponds. A place situated such that you drive by and think, "oh my gosh, it's so pretty, look at how cute it is, let's go." Only, you arrive and realize that kids plus pumpkins, plus water, might not be the combination you were looking for. Needless to say, there were a lot of hairy eyeball glances shot in the direction of our youngest. I had no doubt that instead of throwing a penny into the pond to make a wish, she would be throwing in all of the pumpkins she could heave. Thank goodness for the lemonade stand. It might be sticky, but it doesn't cause a scene! The pumpkins still were heaved. She just waited until she got home to drop it on the tile. Lovely mess!!

After the patch, the pumpkins must be carved of course. Although, when you live in a place that is still 100 degrees, you have to wait until the day before Halloween to carve them so they don't rot. This year, that day turned out to be the day Nathan had several meetings, and I was going to have to carve alone. This is when the ol' independent gene that has been passed on to my children actually came in handy. Logan wanted to do his all by himself. He drew the pirate all by himself, and scooped out all of the junk in the pumpkin. He then thought that he would be carving by himself as well, but I quickly informed him that would not be the case. After several minutes of "discussing" that the knife was not a "safety knife," I finally convinced "the Kroeger Home Sheriff" that the knife was indeed not safe.

Caitlyn wanted my help to create the perfect princess pumpkin. Apparently she didn't get the memo that I can't draw a straight line to show a stick. That perfect princess pumpkin looked more like the corpse bride with 3 teeth in Betelgeuse, but she was happy. After two hours of carving, poor Reagan got nothing. Sure she got to scoop a few guts from the other two, but the thought of carving another pumpkin, made me want to drop it on the tile and break it just to not have to carve it.

Because Halloween fell on a Friday this year, the kids were all geared up to hunt candy well into the dark sky. But with foreclosures up, and the economy down, candy hunting was a little tougher then they imagined. Two hours in, their baskets still weren't full, and Indiana Jones and his faithful cat sidekick had enough. The flower? No, she was ready to keep burning the midnight oil. She wouldn't let anyone hold her basket, and she went up to every single house the big kids did. The only house she wouldn't go up to was the one giving away full size candy bars. That's right, Snickers, Milky Way, Skittles, Reece's Peanut Butter Cups, and Baby Ruth's. Full Size! I am convinced she knew I was stalking it, and wouldn't take it purely out of spite. I suppose I could have gone up and swiped one in the name of an 18 month old, but the lady didn't look like she would buy it. But two hours of walking, wrestling costumes, and pumpkin carving, I so deserved that freaking Baby Ruth. So I just took all 3 of Reagan's little Baby Ruth's and made myself a big one.

So the candy has been checked, fought over, horded under beds, and is now all eaten. The costumes are packed away with the pumpkin buckets and gobblin flashlights, and we are gearing up for the most gluttonous holiday, Thanksgiving. Then the most expensive, Christmas. Even so, I just love this time of year!!

My Fair Lady

2008-11-08T07:40:00.000-08:00

OK, ok I hear you! I know it has been a while since the last blog. But it would appear that my little muse has packed up his things and been on vacation, or left me for another brain, because I got nothin'. Not just uninspired, or lacking in things to share. Nope, just flat out brain dead. Can't put a coherent thought together to save my life. So life just keeps on happening, and I think, "huh, I should blog about that" but do I? No. Plus my camera died and I couldn't find the charger, and unless I can have the pictures, the funny lines, and the music all just so, I really don't want to try and blog. So you can all thank the PSP charger for pulling me from the slump.

It's been an exciting month around this joint! We started the month by attending the Arizona State Fair. This was momentous because I was going through withdraw of the annual deep fried snickers since we did not attend the San Diego Fair this year. So with that deep fried snickers lightly powdered with confectioners sugar on the brain, and a rumor of monkey jockeys that ride the backs of dogs in a race, we were off to the fair. Imagine my dismay when we exited the freeway to find that fair I was so excited to attend, was smack dab in the center of ghettoville. I mean windows missing in abandoned buildings with crack heads talking to themselves on the corner ghettoville. It might be enough to detour a family with more common sense, but us, no. We just put all three kids in the stroller and walked like we had kids that were going to pee their pants.

Once inside the gates, all of the sights, sounds, and smells of the fair made us forget what was just outside. It was almost like going into Willy Wonka's Factory, except of course that it was 105 that day. So the smells of the elephant rides and the bear show I probably could have done without. We started the day watching a women with a wicked lisp squirt honey into a bear's mouth while the bear rode a scooter, and ended the day chatting with the gang enforcement task team. Ahh, fair memories, and here are a few things we learned in between.

1. Don't buy the first hot dog you see at the fair, you end up with hot dog remorse when you see the same hot dog a dollar cheaper four carts down.

2. Don't let your kids take their allowance money to the fair. They come home with the kid equivalent of the orange shammies you find in the tents. In our case magnets and princess tierra's.

3. Do be very nice to the carnies, show a little leg if you must, they let you on the rides for free when you run out of tickets.

4. Do keep an eye on all of your children, 'cause they can run really fast and those bright lights on the rides are like a moth to the flame for them.

5. Do let your little ones ride the carousel as many times as they want, it won't be long before they are too cool for it.

6. Do bring your own water bottles, because when a kid spills 3/4 of the $4.50 water bottle, it may tend to freak you out in ways you didn't think possible.

7. Don't buy pens from the man who says he is deaf and is selling pens to earn money. Chances are, his hearing aids just don't have batteries.

8. Do go and see the banana derby any time you can. Watching a spider monkeys race in circles on the backs of St. Bernards will make you laugh no matter what kind of day you are having.

9. Do remember that you are an adult and do not have the same body you did when you were fifteen. This is especially important on the tilt a whirl and the tornado, rides that are like the Disneyland teacups on crack.

10. Do go to the fair every year. Not only is it the most fun and fattening day of your life, but the joy your kids find in it is so worth the $140 buck you spent to see it.

Calling All Angels

2008-10-15T09:58:00.000-07:00

This week is parent teacher conferences around here. You know, the days that your kids get out early and drive you nuts at home, but their teachers gush about how sweet and funny they are. Each year when that bright green sheet comes home for sign-ups, I always mark the first day, at the first time. I figure it is like a band-aid that has been fermenting on a finger for awhile. You don't really know what's going on under there, but you have to find out, and you might as well do it sooner than later.

Because I stay home, I have always viewed my kids welfare as my profession. Their success was my success, and their failures my failures as a parent. This is a flawed perception I realize, not only is it a wee bit narcissistic, but also because they are who they are and there is only so much you can do as a parent. I mean you can't sit next to them the day they take a test and poke them every time they get an answer wrong. You can't go in with an eraser and write their essays for them. Tempting, but no.

So when the school district called at the beginning of the year and said that they wanted to test Logan for the gifted program, I got a little puff of the ol' peacock feathers. I mean, come on all parents think their kids are smartest, cutest, most perfect things in the world, but I got the call confirming it. SCORE! Then reality set in the week after that when he brought home a math test that he got a D+ on. A re-evaluation of things brought me to the conclusion that perhaps the standards in Arizona were different than that in California, so what looked like gifted, was really just material he had already learned. Don't get me wrong, I still took him to the testing, but gifted is a really big word. It's the 5 year old who plays Chopin at the piano without looking at the music. That's not us. We are struggling with Hot Cross Buns on the recorder.

But alas, parent-teacher conferences brought another glimmer of hope. First was Caitlyn. I was a little nervous for that one. She hasn't really been bringing home any homework that quantifies what is going on in class. All she brings home are pictures of rainbows and butterflies. A happy well adjusted kid yes, but I was a little nervous about what she was learning. Turns out, it's a lot. She has patterns down, her upper and lower case letters and used 8 word sentences on the dibble test. The teacher said she doesn't send home a lot of homework because it is all day kindergarten and the concepts are reinforced multiple times throughout the day. I buy that. She also said she thoroughly enjoys having Caitlyn in class because she is so sweet and willing to learn. She even said that Caitlyn cracks her up with the stories she tells. Especially the one about the bad guys that broke into the principle's office and poured hot sauce all over his chair and then ran out the window really fast. There go those peacock feathers again.

After such a positive first conference, I was feeling pretty confident about Logan's this morning. The first thing she brought out were all of his sample writings and his grades for the quarter. Me being me and all that entails, my eyes went right to his writing scores. My heart started to flutter and my teeth started to clinch in response to what I saw. A C- on his first writing sample. What? No commas, no punctuation anywhere on the paper. What? This is my kid, I mean writing should be at the top, he should have issues in math, not writing right? I tried to process all of this information with his teacher sounding like that of Charlie Brown's in the background. I had to focus...what was she saying? Oh, that was a sample of the end of the year test they take? Oh, this was a free write exercise? Oh, he has all A's and a B+ in writing? Maybe I need to calm down. Oh, look at his bird in his picture, it has two wings and a tail; and the airplane says Southwest Airlines on it, that's hilarious! An A in music? Well then. Oh, he's such a sweet boy in class, and you love when he smiles? It just lights up the room? Yes, yes, I know, sometimes, I just get so sidetracked and forget.

So this year's conferences turned out not to have any pus filled green wounds underneath that fermenting band-aid. Nope turns out everything looks great, all that hard work and taking care of things turned out well. They are happy, well adjusted, beautiful, wonderfully successful average kids. And I couldn't be more proud!

She's Crafty

2008-10-02T16:28:00.000-07:00

(WARNING: the song attached to this post has a bit of the James Fry language at the beginningish, listen to the first minute and a halfish, then mute the next thirty (with Kate monster), but then listen to the rest, it's halarious!)

A few weeks ago I was tagged by a fellow blogger asking me to divulge six quirks that I have. To me this was like asking a dog to moo. I mean "quirky" is that person that lives alone with their 6 cats, or someone who perpetually looks like they dressed in the dark. Uhh, that's not me...right?

I then went to Nathan and told him about this little quandary and told him that I wasn't quirky right? I think milk may have come out of his nose when I asked him that. I was then dumb enough to continue the conversation with my mother, who when asked what my quirks are, told me to pull up a chair. Nice. So one night during the middle of the night, I began to ponder the oddities of my existence. I think this is why I never meditate, I mean talk about a Debbie Downer moment, "hmm let's see, what do I do that could be construed as rather odd." This is why I don't read self-help books. But, in a rare moment of self evaluation, here is what I have come up with:

1. I suppose it would be a quirk in and of its self that I didn't believe I had any quirks. Corky maybe, but not quirky. That was before the above mentioned conversations when both my mother and my husband went on for about 20 minutes each about my quirks. I didn't dare ask my brother. Gluttony is not on my quirky list.

2. There may be on occasion a time or two that I have been known to be a control freak. Nathan says it manifests itself most when we are in an area that we have never been before and I start giving him directions...without a map. Which leads to number 3.

3. I can neither confirm nor deny that I may or may not be an authority on everything I speak of. I mean, if I didn't know what I was talking about, then why talk right?

4. This one is closely linked to number 2. It's not really a control thing, I mean it's mine and I am the only one with the password, but I do have to have everything just so on my blog. It spills over into everything that I do that goes out into the world for judgement, but the blog is especially this way. Probably because I am writing and that is what some believe to be my best talent. All of the blog posts are titles of songs. The songs on the play list are placed there because they fit the blog. The quotes at the top of the page are linked to the posts as well. The top quote is a reminder of what the last post was about, and the second quote is a foreshadowing of the new post.

Oh, good Lord, this is miserable! I would rather give birth in a wheelchair 8 more times than have to ever do an exercise like this again. Blogger tagger, we are so not friends right now!!

5. I am convinced that the Bogey man exists and is going to break into my house at any given hour. A perfect example of this was this week when Nathan was out of town. On the third night I decided to sleep upstairs with the kids because the Bogey man would never harm kids right? Well when I got up in the morning to let the dogs out, the sliding glass door was unlocked but the stick was still in the slider gap. So I called Nathan to let him know that someone had tried to break into the house during the night. He reminded me of the incident a few years ago when I made him rush home because I heard people talking in the backyard and the helicopters were over head with the spotlight. I waited in the get away car in the driveway while he checked everything out. Turns out the big bad robber was Mr. Potato Head. I still think the sliding glass door thing is weird though.

6. This one some of you may find shocking...take your nitro pills now. I may often be perceived as a social person, but really, the thought of hosting social events gives me hives. I refuse to throw parties or invite people over because I am sure that no one will come. It is an unexplained phenomenon in my existence, but if you ever wonder why you are not invited over, it's because you won't show. You wanna come over? Invite yourself, then I know you will be there.

When I was tagged, I was asked to tag six others, but if i do, then it will solidify that fact that you are never coming to my party, so I am tagging no one. Just this once, I will be the glutton.

What Would You Say...

2008-09-23T21:57:00.000-07:00

A picture might be worth a 1000 words, but the things that tend to fall out of the mouths of children are priceless...

Our New Antique Upright Piano

"Mom, how am I supposed to practice at the piano if Reagan keeps coming over and banging on it and screwing me up? Can't we make a schedule where I get it for a few days, then Caitlyn gets it for a few days, and then Reagan can have a few days when she gets a little older."

Caitlyn's Ear Piercing

"Mom, Dad is going to freak out when we get home and he sees that I got my ears pierced. He is gonna say 'What the Hell' isn't he?"

Reagan's Halloween Costume

"Reagan if you wear the hat, I'll give you a piece of candy. Want some candy?"

Slide Rock National Forest...In Flip Flops...

Total Outdoorsy Wife and Kids

Mom, next time we go in the mountains I want to wear my other shoes, these frickin flip flops are freakin me out and my legs are all itchy."

"Dad did they just paint these rocks or something, they are all so red."