Life In General

Just another poopy Sunday!

2012-01-08T22:11:00.000-06:00

Kinda like a "Manic Monday" if you will but more on the poopy side.
I want to preface this story with the reminder that I am the mother of four children, with a total of about 9 years of diapering under my belt give or take. That's probably a few thousand diapers, some disposable, most cloth, which is just to say, I do diapers. I handle poop, pee and the in between from start to finish... Nothing to sniff at if you know what I mean.
We arrived at church early for Rush Hour which Hazy and I skip so I had been chatting with a couple of women exchanging pleasantries that included "is this your first?" and my reply of "no, it's my fourth" to which I got the usual reply of "oh well you've got this all down pat now don't you?" Hazel hadn't pooped in a couple of days. That always worrys me, but it especially worried me this fine sunny Sunday morning as Hazy was arrayed in a bone colored tutu with leg warmers and every other bauble a mother can think of to put on her baby doll. She started to thunder down under. I hoped for the best but you kinda know there's no going back when it hits a certain point on the poo poo richter scale and I knew we were in trouble. I hastily turned her upright and sure enough, yellow was seeping through her onesie above the tutu. We booked it for the ladies room. My first concern was to remove the tulle entirely from the equation. It turns out it was a good move. I jerked it off unscathed, flipped open the diaper and expertly folded it in so she had a relatively clean spot for her bum while I wiped her. Suddenly, the little fountain of youth sprang into action. I had only laid the octopus on top of a long piece of paper towel so we were basically in double trouble. I quickly flipped the diaper back open but we still had a substantial amount of pee being repelled off the outside of the diaper and dribbling onto the tail of the onesie. I was now in "first baby crisis mode" I had no extra onesie and after tossing the defiled diaper in the pail I realized we only had one adorable sock. I glanced all around me and finally with dread at the trash can where I had deposited the diaper. I plunged in and found nothing but did have to make a trip to the sink to wash poo off my hand. It was time to strip the octopus. I stripped her naked as a jaybird with older women coming and going in their unhurried, collected fashion. I cleaned the changing table, redeposited the naked but very smiley octopus, breathing a sigh of relief that the poop hadn't given a final spurt during the complicated process. I got a fresh diaper on her and faced the onesie. It was tricky. I had an octopus on my shoulder and was trying to only get the part under the sink that was actually soiled and pump soap with the same hand but we survived. One old lady gave me a condoling glance and I said "no extra shirt" under my breath to which she replied "well that's a lesson learned now isn't it?" I gave her a droll look and said, "well, you'd think I'd have learned by the fourth kid if I was going to wouldn't you?" She chuckled and carefully dried her hands and left in her unhurried, collected fashion. I wrung the onesie out repeatedly then used about fifty or a hundred paper towels pressing them tightly into the onesie trying to blot as much moisture out as possible and finally redressed the very happy smiley octopus with one sock and went back to the couch. There was the sock. Nice little aha moment. I sat down to nurse her and tucked one of the decorative couch throw pillows under her head. She did that grand little move we all love. Nursed until my milk had a forceful letdown then jerked off coughing and wheezing while I sprayed the silk pillow with bodily fluid. Of course I had no burp cloth... so back we went to the ladies room for some more paper towels. I feel like I owe a little extra for the tithe this week. Anyway, we wiped down the towel as well as we could and left. It seemed like an unlucky place for us. And so it was because the rest of the day has been perfect.

Christmas 2011

2011-12-27T23:53:00.000-06:00

Dear Family and Friends,
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! May the season bring you joy and peace as it has us!
We relocated 15 minutes south of Longmont to Erie this February. It was probably the best move we’ve ever made. We live in a community that is so tight, that just thirty minutes ago my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, I received a plate of cookies from the three adorable munchkins next door. We have friends all around us who have kids in the same school and it’s really just one big party. We are so thankful God brought us here. The sense of community leaves you feeling as if you are in a constant embrace of friendship.
Three days after moving into the new house, we found out that God wanted to stretch us a little. No surprise, He does that with great regularity. We just hope we are growing in the way He wants us to. We thought three kids were all we could handle but He thought four was a better number. The kids were in shock when we broke the news to them up in Breckenridge on a ski trip. I video taped their responses. Watching Eden reject it out of hand then ask if we were serious while Kaitlyn instantly embraced the news and Nick hopped around like a little pogo stick was priceless.
I racketed my way through the year grappling with how I would possibly manage four kids, two dogs and a rental house across the country. There wasn’t an epiphany. I am just taking it one day at a time. Hm, that makes it sound mundane which my days are anything but. I’d give you some highlights but I have to remind myself that you were expecting a joyful letter about the blessings of 2011.
We took a little camping trip up in Estes Park with my sister Ginny and her family this summer. If I hadn’t been six months pregnant wearing flip flops, the epic six mile hike to a high mountain lake to see blooming lily pads probably would have been a little more thrilling. As it was, I think the grueling trek was a feather in every kids hats and that is a treasure in itself.
This fall we took our annual trip to the mountains to see the fall colors. Somehow we waited one week too long and wound up driving up to Frisco in a snowstorm. It was surreal to see snow with patches of golden aspens peeking through. Jody’s dad and Marcy met us up there and we had a nice little mountain jaunt. The kids loved the trip but I kept having contractions which was giving Jody the jitters.
Two weeks later our lives changed forever. Hazel Ann was born. Each of our children have brought a profound change in our world, filled our hearts to bursting and made us want to laugh and cry all at the same time. Hazel is no different and if anything the senses are heightened. The unexpectedness of her arrival in our family makes everything about her presence more amazing and incredible. I sit and hold her for hours every day, marveling at everything about her. I haven’t been caught up on laundry since she was born but I wasn’t very often before anyway. Jody and I are swept away in love with our baby and so is everyone else in the family. It’s like we got a puppy. We love her, dote on her, carry her around and can barely stand to let her sit in her swing or bouncy seat. My favorite thing is to lay out the sheepskin by the fireplace and lay her on it so she can watch the fire. She is the most peaceful child in the world. All is as it should be.
Thanks to so many of you who have given Hazel such lovely presents. We are so blessed and thankful to know each of you. Thank you for the beautiful Christmas cards. I love the photo cards. I can’t believe how the kids grow and change each year. Please call or write anytime!
Love,
Jody, Elizabeth, Eden, Kaitlyn, Nicholas and Hazel

Thanks Anna

2011-12-07T23:28:00.000-06:00

Little Hazy is already six weeks old. She's alert, smiley, demanding, cuddly and completely adorable in all of her little clothes she's been blessed with by family and friends. Tonight she's in a dark pink sleeper with pale pink hearts and a froggy. My friend Anna sent it to her today. Anna is one of my most treasured long term, low maintenance, generous, genuine and completely unique friends. I think back to when she became my friend when I was working two jobs trying to make it on my own. We would drive to downtown Denver, go to a little hole in the wall coffee shop and pick up a latte for me and a steamed almond milk for her then we'd go sit on the 16th Street Mall and watch people. Strange people, funny people, weird people... one time a naked person wrapped in a blanket running around confused... We were as different as night and day but we always had common ground. We made memories, shared some pretty special experiences and then when our lives changed we saw each other less but my friendship with her has always been a link to a different lifetime that practically nobody else in my life is linked to. I do pity her being my friend for so long. Somehow she's managed to supply each of my kids with darling gifts and I just keep having them. Most people knew me during one birth or another but Anna has always claimed me and always kept our tenuous friendship alive and always gifted adorable things to the family that just won't stop growing. So, thanks Anna. It seems like I'm only ever saying thanks to you but thanks. You're a peach.

A sunset and a tree

2011-12-02T11:10:00.004-06:00

Two nights ago I was driving through the neighborhood right as the sun sank behind the Rockies. In a rare display the entire sky radiated colors in an enveloping glow. I was overcome and told the kids to look at the sky. I twisted in my seat and could see little whisps of pink glowing all the way to the eastern horizon. There were billowing dark clouds high in the sky which I suppose reflected the sun into a breathtaking display. As soon as the car stopped Eden was out and running for the house to take a picture with my high dollar camera. I find it shameful that she has had full camera privileges since Nick was born and I still treat Kait like a two year old. She dashed to the back yard and snapped several pics. I was carrying baby, groceries etc... in and asked her if she got it. Her face was neutral. I did but they aren't great. I didn't think any more of it until this morning. I was rousing my poor tussled blondies in my usual no nonsense fashion; offering the unwanted lecture of falling asleep sooner so it's easier to get up. A completely hypocritical utterance but habitual all the same. Eden sat up in her bed and in a gravely voice she said "Mom, are you going to take a picture of the tree by my window today?" I leaned over and glanced out the window and the tree took my breath away. I wish I were a real photographer but alas, you will have to use your imagination to visualize something far more sensational than what I captured. I will say that what I saw both times left me aghast that anyone on this planet could doubt the sure evidence of a master design. It also gave me great appreciation for Eden's eye and her instant appetite for raw beauty.

I had a hard time picking which of her pictures of the sunset to use, so I chose the first and last. It shows the lapse of time and I have no idea why she thought they were less than great. If you click on them you can see them bigger.

This is the exact view from her window.

It wasn't good enough so I tromped out in the snow in my boots, pj's and bathrobe to take a couple close ups.

This is too amazing to attribute to chance. This is the product of a divine being making beauty for his enjoyment.

Kind of like... this...

Happy December world, Hazel beckons to me.

Hazel Ann

2011-11-13T23:22:00.000-06:00

Jody and I have another child. A breathtakingly beautiful little girl named Hazel Ann. Somehow we never had the sense to ask God for her, so he gave her to us of his own volition to show us how wonderful His ways are and to bless us because He loves us so much more than we will ever truly comprehend. She is as calm and quiet as a morning after snow has fallen. She gazes into my eyes and her lips play with a smile then form a perfect O. Her head and cheeks are as soft as a peach and her toes are long and amusingly prehensile. Her fingers are delicate and refined; she holds them like a little lady about to play a pinafore. The overwhelming gush of raw love and emotion when she was born still sneaks up on me several times per day. Her squeaks and coos, her gulping as she tries to drink every drop of milk and her little hands grasping my finger, my necklace, my shirt. The desperate sucking on her hand as she anxiously waits to eat again and again and again. These are all magic. A magic I really never thought I would experience again in my life as a mother. I find it incomprehensible that I was content without her and amazing that God has given her to us.
Her birth was the most gentle and easy of my four children. I woke up a little after 4 AM on Sunday, October 23rd. I got up to go to the bathroom and felt little trickles of water running down my legs. I couldn't really bring myself to believe my water had broken but sure enough it had. I stared contemplatively at the evidence and couldn't quite believe it. After a few seconds I said "Jody..."
He responded as though he'd been awake for hours. "Yes."
I said "I guess my water broke."
He sat up and said "should I call the midwife?"
It set the tone for the whole morning.
I called Gin and texted Jen B. to tell them how sorry I was that they were going to miss the birth. They were both sad but gracious about it. I know Gin blamed me for starting the labor by having Eden's birthday party and going to the pumpkin patch but it was actually the easiest birthday party ever. I didn't even have to set out plates and napkins or make a cake or basically anything. The pumpkin patch excursion probably took 20 minutes and required very little from me, other than supplying the coupon code on my phone for my living social discount. I take comfort in the fact that the midwives believed very strongly that there had been a drop in barometric pressure causing me to go into labor. Either way, I really would have held on until the girls got here if I could though the end of pregnancy really is a miserable thing. I had not the slightest premonition that Hazel would show up 9 days early, but man is it a relief to be done being pregnant.
Jenny T. came over right away with her camera and we hung out and laughed about Jenn D. being completely comatose when I called her. I was having light contractions, Jody and I had the bed ready, and I was kind of twiddling my thumbs and wondering if I should eat something or if it would be puked back up in no time. Finally I decided to have some cheerios. At the time I thought it was goofy of her to take the picture but as I looked at the photo's it seemed like the natural beginning of the story.

A little while later the midwives came. Jeni checked me and I was 5 centimeter! I wandered around for awhile doing little things and I couldn't find the right place or position, so I'd grab Jody and hang on him since every other contraction was starting to feel uncomfortable. He makes me feel warm and fuzzy. ;-)

Jody went to wake up the girls and get things together for the birth and I just couldn't seem to find the best place to sit so I sat on a barstool in the middle of the living room. I think someone had drug it in there to set my drink on while I sat on the ball but it became my platform for the first half of my labor. While my friends lounged on the couch making funny conversation, I perched up on the barstool laughing and moaning.

Jody came down from upstairs and said the girls told him he was joking when he went to wake them up for the birth. I found this very entertaining. It didn't take five minutes for them to come down to check for sure.

My midwife Jeni had told me I could get into the bathtub whenever I wanted to but I wanted to wait until I was not coping easily with labor and wanting relief. Finally awhile later I went in the bathroom and got into the tub. I lounged in the water worrying to Jody that my labor wasn't getting hard and wondering if it was just going to take a really long time. Jeni offered to check me and I was at 7 centimeters. I remember locking eyes with Jody and saying 7 down 3 to go!" He smiled. The only thing hanging me up was how many birth stories had I read and how many births had I attended where a person progressed great and then stalled anywhere between 7 and 10? I was happy but not over confident. I continued to feel a niggle of fear that this could take all day. The girls came in the bathroom and Eden anxiously asked me how much longer it would take. I laughed about how present and excited she was. I told her I had no idea. I focused exclusively on a picture in my mind of my body opening wide up for the baby. With each contraction I would go limp and find that picture. I could feel my insides creaking as the baby came down. This is what they call "laboring the baby down." It was fun to doula myself through this process so consciously.
I had to go to the bathroom so I labored in there for awhile leaning into Jody, my ever present faithful one. He did whatever I asked, pushed on my knees, braced his arm so I could hold onto him. I remember yelling for God to help me and hoping to high heaven this wasn't going to last for very many more hours. I announced that I was getting shaky so they brought me some nasty sweet stuff to balance my blood sugar and forced me to drink it. Jeni said I was getting pushy to which I whiningly replied that I WISHED I felt pushy. She wanted me off of the toilet especially since the baby was in a +2 station as she didn't want me to plop a baby in there. I still maintain there was no danger of that happening but all of those dramatic people like to say "it's a good thing we got her out of there when we did" so I just let them say it. I didn't want to get back into the bathtub so Jenny T. ran out to Jeni's car and got the birthing stool and they set it by the tub. I sat down on it and hated it instantly but I felt the baby about to come out and announced that I would not be moving. It seemed like I waited forever for the next contraction and then I pushed, ever so slowly telling myself not to tear and holding my mouth ajar. Every time I felt it start to burn I'd slow down a bit and then let it rest for a second. It's the first time I've ever tried to control the pushing so that I would not tear. Very gently, the baby's head came out and the midwife said "the cord is loosely around the neck but it flipped over easily". By this time all of the kids were gathered around and though I didn't know it, Kearney was laying behind everyone and attending her first birth as well.

When they handed me the baby, I felt a rush of love such as I cannot describe. I don't remember having it with the other kids to such a magnitude. I was completely overcome by it. She was completely covered in vernix and incredibly beautiful and perfect in every way. I'm told it's the hormone oxytocin, but that seems to make it sound so much more clinical than it felt!

Kaitlyn was at my left elbow and everyone wanted to know if it was a boy or a girl. She got nervous and said it was a boy. I said, "lets check and see." We checked and I instantly wished I could take the words back and let them be hers so badly but I instinctively corrected her and said "it's a girl!" Nick seemed a little terrified of the baby, I think because she was covered in vernix and had blue skin but I reassured him and a few minutes later he was all over her, trying to give her a matchbox car.

Eden wanted to be a part of everything. She cut the umbilical cord. The midwife warned her that she might have to cut twice but Eden didn't wait for her to finish the explanation, she expertly snipped the cord and was complimented by Jeni who told her she did a better job than most adults.

Then she helped weigh, measure and dress her. Eden's very competent in a foreign setting. I wonder what she'll be when she's grown.

All in all, my labor lasted from waking up a few minutes past 4AM to 7:52 AM when Hazel was born. She weighed exactly 7 pounds even though she was 9 days early, was 20 1/2 inches long and her head was 14 inches. The average baby head is 13 inches so that makes my completely skid mark free delivery quite notable. ;-)

I could post a thousand pictures and make this story so long because I love to tell a birth story but I guess I'll stop here. Hazel's birth was amazing. The pain was never worse than a stomach flu and I honestly think if I'd known that it would go so easily and end so soon I probably wouldn't have bothered complaining for the 20 minutes when it was a bit of work and wasn't feeling so great.

Eden tops the single digits!

2011-10-22T22:51:00.000-05:00

She's 9 years old now, so next year we break into the double digits! She's so fun and interesting. She loves scientific things, girly things, techno things and gymnastics. Give her a science experiment, a new purse or hairdryer, a chance to do handsprings or an iPad to play on and she's equally enthralled. I love this about her. I can think of a million things she'd love to do and the list never seems to end.
Yesterday was her birthday. I relived every detail of her birth with her, which she absorbed with great interest. In my personal experience, children love to hear every detail about the day they were born. It seems to resonant deeply with them that their parents must love them very much to want to reminisce about that special day.
The school costume party fell on her birthday so I asked her if she wanted to go and she didn't. I asked if she wanted pot pie and german chocolate cake, and she did. This is typical of Eden. One birthday we would have gotten her anything for her birthday and she asked me to make spaghetti. So, somehow the day spun out of control between buying groceries, taking treats to Eden's class for her birthday and then doing gymnastics, so I did not get the pot pie done. I asked if frozen one's would work and of course she was fine with that. Eden's as easy to please as anything. I did make the entire german chocolate cake and frosting from scratch start to finish with a couple of bumps along the way... one particular bump being the giant one in my belly.
She had her party today and it was so sweet to see little faces that have been a part of her birthdays year after year. Scout, Lauren and Charlotte have all stayed friends with Eden since Kindergarten and it is cool to see that constant in her life. I hope we've settled.
We got home from the party and Eden landed on the couch with a big sigh. She smiled at me and said "that was such a great party Mom." She got up and hugged me and said "thank you" with great feeling. That's what I live for, those little moments. I love each of my children very deeply and they all have hearts of gold. I often feel like I'm so poor at modeling behavior that I find myself admiring in them, but they get it from Jody or somewhere, thank God!

Mundane musings of an Erie country mouse.

2011-10-18T15:56:00.000-05:00

I hadn't thought of how to get around it but Adagio Tea charges me a $2 "Rural Delivery Charge" now that we live in Erie. Today it occurred to me to have it shipped to Jody's office in Boulder to avoid this ridiculous fee and he found it as amusing as I did. His observation was that now we can tell people we live in the country! I grew up "rural", and his grandparents farmed "rural" so we are familiar with the term. It should involve dirt roads, opening and closing gates and packs of noisy dogs, or at the very least a half mile between neighbors on long lonely roads, not a stop on a daily route through a neighborhood on a culdesac 20 miles from Denver. I suppose in Colorado, I might consider a "rural" delivery fee fair if UPS had to traverse Berthoud Pass to deliver my tea... Never the less, I have avoided the charge, and that is what being a stay at home mom is all about. I have my $2, and my tea is soon to be shipped.
In the past week and a half we have had grandparents come to visit, a trip to the mountains, a belly henna tattoo party, an all day outing to the zoo and the complete collapse of the pregnant lady. Yesterday I felt like I'd been hit by a mac truck. I sank into my bathtub mid-morning, toddled to my bed and then melted into Jody's side of the mattress imagining him somehow cuddling my deformed body while Kait and Nick painted in the dining room... dangerous I know. Somehow, this week I will pull it together, make my granola and breakfast burritos, get Kait healthy, have a birthday party for Eden, figure out my iTunes, walk 3 miles every day and visualize birth. Next week, I'll again walk three miles every day, make freezer meals with Gin, stock my house with enough food for the end of the world and then try to relax this baby out so we can finally find out if it is a boy or a girl.

Happy 20th Birthday Michelle!

2011-10-12T16:23:00.000-05:00

We think of you all of the time and pray for you every night. We love you and hope wonderful things for your future.

Kait's back in violin!

2011-09-29T23:29:00.003-05:00

Here is a picture of her first lesson with Sandra Wong.

We pulled up at Sandra's house for the first lesson. I knew she had three large dogs but hadn't really put much thought into how that affects a very tiny little house. As we walked in, I got a strong aroma of dog mixed with some kind of incense or something. I grew up on a farm so smells aren't terribly important to me but I do have a very keen nose, especially when I'm pregnant. Kait and Sandra started comparing Kait's violins to see which one was a better fit and I glanced down at Nick next to me. His teeth were barred and his nose was scrunched. I said "Nick, what in the world is wrong?"
Without opening his teeth he clearly said "it STINKS in HERE!" while continuing to scrunch his nose and bare his teeth.
Kait and Sandra were in pause watching the whole thing. I shrugged apologetically and told her I thought Nick was unaccustomed to incense or whatever that smell was. She pointed to an air freshener plugged into the wall directly behind Nick and said I could try taking it out.
When I next glanced at Nick he had the first two fingers of his right hand jammed up his nostrils and with a nasally ring he said "let's go HOME NOW, it STINKS in HERE."
I wanted to curl up and die but Sandra seemed to expect a comment from me, so I said "four year olds just have no filter." To which she laughed.
A few minutes later Nick and Eden went into the next room and Eden came back and said "Mom, you should see Nick, he has his entire head buried in her box of stuffed animals." Sure enough, there he stood bent forward with arms dangling and his entire head stuck in a box of stuffed animals.
Meanwhile, Kait had a wonderful lesson and played twinkle for her new teacher and did everything asked of her with enthusiasm.

Humility

2011-09-24T23:50:00.001-05:00

Oh autumn how I love thee! I will say that I can't really understand how we already have illness in our house before it's even chilly and crisp all day but so it will be.
Kait woke up Thursday telling me her throat hurt. I thought maybe it was dry. She ate breakfast and told me now her head and tummy hurt. I couldn't decide what to do so I sent her to school and sent a note to Ms. Baxter asking her to let me know if Kait looked peaked. She told me Kait was rolling along not the least bit sick. I picked her up after school and her eyes had tears standing in them and she was holding her throat. I felt like such a rockstar mom. I babied her all evening and the next morning I couldn't tell whether she was still sick or just wanting more attention. I told her she could stay home but when she saw me chopping apple slices for her math group she was reenergized and decided at the last possible second to go to school. I thought it was a short little bug. Then Jenn picked her up on Friday and took her to gymnastics in Lafayette. She said Kait was happy, high energy, and passed me on 287 as I headed to my midwife appointment. 15 minutes into gymnastics the gym staff called me to tell me that Kait was there crying and saying she had strep throat. I was then lectured on the highly contagious nature of strep throat which I had no idea how to respond to. How do I tell them that Kait thinks the name "strep throat" is another way of saying her throat hurts. Kait got on the phone crying that when she did a backbend her throat started hurting again and she wanted to go home. Jody had finally been able to make it to an appointment, but didn't get to stay for a minute of it. He hopped on his motorcycle, went home to Erie, got his truck and went to Lafayette to get Kait while Jenn sat with her at the gym. She got home, I gave her ibuprofen and shined a light down a very red and pussy throat. Aha, so maybe she had something there with the "strep throat" after all. Why do I always handle childhood illness this way? Poor darn kid. In the mean time, Kait took her continent test on Friday with strep throat and got a big fat 0. How did this happen? Oh, her pregnant, overwhelmed mother/Room Parent Coordinator/She Finds Retro/wife/cook/sock folder can stand for an ovation now... anyway here's how it went as I chopped chicken:
"Kait name the continent where giraffes are from."
"Banana (giggle giggle)"
"Kait, name the continent we live on." "America (giggle giggle)"
"Kait, are you going to study for this continent test?"
"I... don't know.... (giggle giggle)"
"You know what? Have fun on your continent test, if you don't want me to help you study, we'll see how it goes."
Um yeah, so if Mom has no patience, doesn't prepare you and sends you to school with strep in first grade, you might get a 0 on your continent test. I got a note from the teacher. She wondered about Kait's test. I told her Kait had elected not to study and I had decided that was fine so she could see the value of studying when she bombed it. The saving grace is, that Kait's teacher knows Kait's mother very well and tactfully suggested that Kait study over the weekend and retake the test so she can clearly see the value of studying. I took the lifeline.
If I make it to the end of this pregnancy and my three amazing kids are still wrapping their arms around my giant belly and telling me how much they love me and the baby... I'll assume we "survived" this very surreal experience and try to forget all of my "pregnant" moments this time around, there have been so many. I'm pretty sure everyone I know has had to pick me up and set me back on my feet at least once. So, Ms. Baxter took a turn too. That was nice... and humbling.

Some funny stuff to remember

2011-09-15T10:56:00.000-05:00

A few days ago, Kait came home from school. She was so excited I thought she would burst. Here's how it went down. "Mom, I have something to tell you that you are probably going to hear about... well actually you probably won't hear about it but I'm going to tell you! Ms. Baxter told me that my handwriting was the best she had ever seen me do and told me to move my clip up. I did two more good things and got to move my clip two more times and I got a BAXTER BUCK!" Kait has handwriting like, well, it's like a four year olds. It's wobbly and large and wandering. I had to write a note to Ms. Baxter thanking her for the positive reinforcement. It seems to take very little to motivate Kait.
The same day, Eden came home with her spelling test results and was proud to show me that she had only missed one thing on her spelling test. I am so pleased with the way she is grasping math, reading voraciously and throwing herself into school with gusto this fall.
Nick was wearing shorts that swim on him yesterday and he would grab the back of them and pull them up. He did this all day and finally at the end of the day he started chuckling to himself and said "Hey Mom, this is kinda funny, when I pull my shorts up like this, I open my mouth like this." He reached behind and pulled his shorts up and stuck his chin out in front of him and dropped his mouth open. It was so funny to me that he realized he must look very funny doing this. I told Jody about it and Eden was there listening and she got a full on belly laugh out of the story. I love the way Eden gets such mirth out of Nick's antics.
The other morning the girls were having their cereal before school and I said "I can't wait for this baby to come out, so we can put that little outfit you got with the little green leaves on it with the little hat and take a first picture." They both agreed that it was going to be wonderful. I said "and it would be funny to just send out a pic to everyone that says, "Welcome Baby Allen" without identifying to people whether it's a boy or a girl. They lit up like Christmas at that idea. Talking about how long they could torture people by withholding that information.
Poor Nick has been the volunteer of the week at Flagstaff this week. He sat in the work room with me while I made about 700 die cuts for the first grade class just twiddling his thumbs and imagining things. After a long silence he would say something like "Mom, wouldn't it be cool if the road was gold, and the school was gold and all of the cars were gold." A little later... "Mom, some people are BIG! Some people are so big... I bet if a person ate and ate and ate, they would get REALLY BIG, like a GIANT!"
And finally, Nick's favorite word appears to be "allergic". Last night he was pretending with Kait and I heard him repeating to her in condescending tones that he is "allergic to carpet." A little bit ago I heard him talking to an imaginary friend saying "I'm allergic to yellow."

As the season changes...

2011-09-13T22:03:00.002-05:00

So does my perspective. Suddenly I looked at my belly yesterday and said, I'm sick of this, I want to see this child. This little person who is jabbing my side with his/her heel while sticking his/her butt up like a tower, might have hair right now and I want to know if it's a tow head like the other three. Is it a boy or a girl? What will it's name be? Are the toes just piled together like a haystack like the others? When it's been this long, it's hard to believe that this one might look just like the others. Every two years I cranked out a blonde haired blue eyed jewel... will this one wonder if he/she is even related? I remember being convinced as a child that I was adopted and my parents just weren't telling me the truth for some reason. My fantastical theory was based on the fact that my older siblings were more solidly built and had brown hair and I was a complete waif with pale blonde hair. I was sure that I was not related to them and anxiously waited for the day that Mom would sit me down to tell me where I came from. It never resonated with me that they were a normal size because they ate and I wasn't because I refused to eat. I think my perspective was that parents just told you things like that to make you eat. One day it occurred to me that perhaps there was a picture of Mom pregnant with me, if I were truly their child. I went through every picture album they had and found naught. Sometimes I would ask my mom about all of her pregnancies, little things just to see if she would slip up. If she voluntarily brought up her pregnancy with me I would listen very attentively for any contradictions or evidence. I honestly believed she was spinning a tale to convince me I belonged to them. I think I wanted to be adopted, probably so that my speculations would all be justified. I even came right out and asked Mom and Dad why I had blonde hair and they both always just laughed and said they had blonde hair when they were little too. I didn't believe them because Louis and Ginny had never had blonde hair in my memory. Then finally, when I was seven years old, my longstanding secret suspicion was put to rest. My mom had a baby and THIS baby had strawberry blonde hair and he was a giant baby weighing in at 11 pounds 5 ounces. Absolutely ANYTHING could come out of my parents, I was now thoroghly convinced.
Call me silly, but now that the girls are in school, I don't feel like such a spectacle. Walking around hugely pregnant holding a little boy's hand feels so normal. People assume he's my only child and that I'm overdue. It's a lovely charade, but only until people speak to me but because I am an attention hog. I always correct them and say that this is my fourth child and that I have several weeks left until my due date. It paralyzes most peoples vocal chords but they usually choke out a congratulation somehow.

I read a fairy book today

2011-09-05T18:58:00.000-05:00

Nick asked me to read one of Eden's fairy books the other day and it was a real struggle. When a four year old has the attention span to listen to a 75 page book of drivel, you really do have to go ahead and read the whole thing because of the crestfallen expression if you don't. I tried to quit. I finally realized towards the end that half of the battled was me trying to sink back into the couch with the baby compressing my lungs making me feel like I was gasping for air as I read. We went on to read "Oh the Places You'll Go" which was fine because I crouched in front of the couch and I like that book. After that I was done but Nick had arranged 5 more books on the couch in what I suppose he fancied as a compelling display. We read all day it seems. Then Kait and Eden come home. Thank God Eden is reading books to herself but I have to read with Kait for a minimum of 25 minutes and go over all of her sight words two or three times and try to keep track of the weekly homework and monthly homework assignments for both of them. It seems like it would be more fun if I were able to read books about birth or novels by Francine Rivers to the kids instead of the 6,348th reading of "Green Eggs and Ham". I shouldn't really say that stuff should I? Scratch all of that, nothing fulfills me more than reading to my children, reading and reading and reading.
We are in the middle of a perfect family holiday weekend. We have done home projects, let the kids have sleepovers, played clue, roasted marshmallows, scored free tickets to the Rockies game and still plan to squeeze in a bit more! Jody took an extra day off of work and I think he's going to take the girls to school early Tuesday so they can all go to breakfast then spend the morning with Nick and me, then hang with Nick all afternoon while I fulfill school obligations then hit the Valmont Bike Park as a family when the girls get home from school. I wish that were a typical Tuesday for us. It has been the most relaxing, happy weekend in the world. I must go eat my grilled brat.

Never was a perfect day

2011-08-30T08:54:00.000-05:00

If you have a bad day, I think you should take a cute picture and tell a different story. I mean, do I really want to relive each little hell in fine detail when I'm old or just look at the pictures and smile? Yesterday was an epic fail. Here's the pics I got before everything went south. ;-)

Why I delude myself into believing organization is around the corner:

2011-08-22T23:08:00.017-05:00

I've got a couple of things going for me. #1. I'm going to Ikea tomorrow and #2. I'm pregnant and hopefully nesting. If these two cosmic events can conspire to organize my life, I will be very happy for a short while until normalcy returns and I am again stuck with 1/2 sets of legos, miscellaneous parts to polly pockets, mason jars with grasshoppers inside them, a sticky refrigerator with popsicle juice making the freezer door stick and an insurmountable pile of school/mail/newspapers etc... PAPERS. I don't need these papers. I don't use credit cards. I don't want new windows or a roof or a kitchen remodel. I don't need anything from Pottery Barn. All of the store sales are online. Honestly, the school could just send home the kids papers that need work. I don't mind tissue paper in care packages from anyone. That is a totally acceptable source of paper.
A few months ago, I did a total detail of my car. It was the first in a very long time because Jody has officially surrendered to the chaos of all of our kids and sworn off ever dealing with the gooey, nasty, sometimes even puzzling contents of the van again. He no longer wanders the house with a mini paint roller on the weekends, nor does he insist on measuring before I hang a picture. The garage is a lost cause, as are many other things he has released with the intentional focus of staying sane. He has zeroed in on preserving the truck the children rarely ride in and the motorcycle that is his. Anyway, so somehow I told myself that if I totally cleaned the car it would probably stay pretty nice because the girls are so big now, they probably won't trash it. There is a slowly dawning realization in me that, perhaps the only way I stay sane is by deluding myself in such a way, although I can honestly say my sanity is under scrutiny lately. Today as I was preparing the van for the trip to Ikea, I realized that there were empty yogurt tubes in the floor, crushed up goldfish, whole animal crackers and splashes of chocolate milk here and there on the sides and doors. That's just a brief overview, I am sparing you the gritty details. My complete reluctance to "intentionally parent" is now reaping what has been sown. No longer can I claim my little piglets are just too little... no, this is my own creation. How does such a thing happen, you may ask. Well, I will tell you. It starts with me staring blankly when I come out of a craigslist "furniture hunting or selling" stupor which can last from 5 to even 45 minutes. I might slowly come into focus to realize of course, terrible things have been swirling around me a a dizzying speed. All of the couch cushions are removed, the Wii is going full blast, there's a cluster of cups of half drunk chocolate milk with a half a dozen straws and a handful of spoons, and chocolate milk powder loosely sprinkled around with little puddles of milk dripping down the edge of the table, and of course the milk is still sitting out. This may be small potatoes compared to what they have decided to "cook".
What will I do? I will go to Ikea, idealize my life in that store and then come home, have another baby and continue my life where I left off. When I don't know what to cook, I'll stand in the kitchen eating cherries and repeatedly opening the sticky refrigerator door and all of my other cabinets in quick succession with long pauses in front of the cereal boxes. When I have too many papers, I'll make them into a painting drop cloth for Nick. But for a day... there is Ikea.

Highs and lows

2011-08-19T09:50:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I am swept away by how Jody loves me. He loves me so true. He's the most loyal of people. If I pick on him for the way he prioritizes his work, I always know in the back of my mind, it's not because he wants to do it, it's because he has to and he has to do it 110%, it's his way. What really amazes me and has every time I've carried one of his children, is how patient he is with my emotional highs and lows. He is so, so supportive. I wish every pregnant lady had a guy like him. He affirms me, he supports me, listens to all of my woes and seems to be genuinely interested in helping me work it all out. I could not ask for a better partner in life. Someday Eden, Kait and Nick will read this and hopefully it will set their standards for finding a person like Jody and being a person like him.
Lately, I've been trying to truly wrap my mind around the fact that I have a birth coming up. I'm in the last trimester. This is for real, and I've got some birth planning to do. Even as I write this, my entire belly is shaking. I guess this little persons ears are burning. My births feel so long ago that it seems like I've forgotten what my "priorities" for the birth were. With Kait I fantasized about baking a cake for everyone to eat after she came out while I was in labor. Ridiculous. I was thrashing around gyrating and praying somebody would get there before she came out which my midwife mentioned the other day. She laughingly said she remembers so clearly racing to my house to "catch that baby". With Nick, I just remember being so ready to go into labor for so long that we finally decided to wash the dogs because we had already done a "final grocery shopping" trip twice. I think with this one, I'll just make lists, like lists of helpful things to do during labor and my grocery list etc... buy a bottle of champagne and wait for the big day. My sister and friends want to come to the birth so I kind of picture it being a party. Baby comes out, we all have cake and champagne or fratata and mimosas depending on what time it is, then I collapse and they grab my cash and shopping list and do everything I should have done. Doesn't that sound nice? I guess with nesting I'll probably try to do everything myself after all but it's a nice fantasy. I guess my main wish is that everyone could be psychic. They hear my thoughts and put my hair in a ponytail or turn the lights down or grab me a glass of iced tea... all of those little things that drive a woman crazy in labor but she just can't articulate. But mostly, so help me, if anyone throws a pity party for me in labor this time, I'm going to attack them. I absolutely hate pity in labor and have yet to have a baby without someone saying something as stupid as I would if I were there helping.
Beyond that, I'm completely blank when I imagine myself holding a new baby with a new name and a new birthday. It's mind boggling. It's the most surreal pregnancy I've ever had. So many people have said the words "when you hold that baby" and I just can't even believe it. I try to picture myself holding a baby, wearing a sling again, nursing a baby, dragging a baby carrier around... it's literally inconceivable.

The end of summer

2011-08-16T09:45:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was our last day of summer. Jody worked a ton of hours last week so he could have the day with us. It frustrates me to no end how overworked he is and how there is just nothing to be done, but I know I need to resign myself to the fact that it is not in my power to change that. Anyway, we went to Boondocks and we all had such a great time. There was a tranquility in the constant laughter and completely relaxed time. We had no schedule, no time frame, just family time. After countless go cart rides, bumper boat rides, laser tag and mini golf, we used up the last bit of time at the arcade. Eden had begged Jody to play WII with her, so we came home and he checked that off. Kait had begged for a bike ride to the park, so we checked that off and by then it was time for baths and bed. The end of summer came and that was it. I wish life could be an endless summer with Jody around to do all of that with us every day. It's taken me many years to realize it, but doing those kinds of things are so much better as a family than trying to go with friends and keep track of a gaggle of children.
At 11PM Nick got growing pains. It took awhile but we got that worked out. This morning at 5 the alarm went off. No, I do not have any idea why Jody either gets up that early or tries to every single day. I couldn't go back to sleep after that. It was nearly 6 when I gave up and got up. I made lunches, scones, sausage, tea and roused the girls. While I was making the lunches I realized that Kait won't be having lunch with me anymore. The water works started and haven't stopped since. Maybe it's because I'm pregnant, maybe it's because you really don't know how to appreciate that short time you have with each of your kids before school steals them away. I think of how I took it all for granted with Eden and then felt torn in half when she took off to first grade. I sat in a little puddle, wondering why I couldn't just breathe in and out and savor the experience of being with them. Now my little buddy sits beside me with his spider man tattoo watching me type. He's impressed with all of my letters. He isn't sure we should take a walk without Daddy and Eden and Kait. He says he isn't interested in doing any school with me but he'd consider playing trains. He isn't ready for his scone at the moment, but I imagine if I get him off for a walk he'll want to go home and eat his scone. I know how short this time is, it might be his last year keeping me company all day. And yet the years stretch before and behind me in a blur of happiness, sacrifice, stress and immeasurable joy. While my time is short, it seems I've never been without a little mouth to feed, a little sticky hand to wash, a carseat to buckle or a situation to negotiate, and really it seems I never will, even as my lovely little girls head off to school with their marching orders in hand.

I'm happy again

2011-08-01T23:13:00.000-05:00

Kinda wandered my way out of the black forest a couple of days ago. Whew.
I sat in church this Sunday staring rather perplexed at a skirt hitting me mid-thigh in a sitting position thinking, how many wardrobe malfunctions can I have in a single pregnancy exclusively on Sunday? One day I got dressed, wandered around the house getting everyone ready to get out the door and looked down to realize my top would be fantastic for nursing... with the easiest access from the top ever. That was a last minute save at home but the very next week, I squeezed into a top, told myself it was the last time, got to church, sat down and the thing was gapping big holes of skin between each button. Well, what's a girl to do? I mean, I'm there now, it's just survive and repeat next week apparently. Fourth pregnancy? Seriously? Anyway, I charged into the grocery store today with my cavalcade in tow and met a cute little preggo girl striding out with a mid belly tank top and a mini skirt on. She was workin it. I guess that's the way to look at it. Hey, I'm Jennifer Aniston and I don't care if anyone sees my belly, 3/4's of my boob or a little butt cheek...
I'm also getting a little too much feedback on my body overall this time around. Whether it's someone exclaiming to me that I'm huge and asking me to agree or asking me when I'm due and then letting their eyeballs fall out when I answer. I mean seriously people. I'm not thrilled to be pregnant a fourth time, you are not helping things. I eat the nice feedback up like peanut butter cups. I can't believe how needy I am. When I get the "you are just such a cute little thing ALL BELLY" I bask. I know I've got a spare tire and back fat. I know the truth but feed my ego, make me feel good. What have you got to lose? One that gave me a couple of rounds of good belly laughs was when I mentioned my stomach had been hurting to my neigbors a few days ago and the husband looked over and said "ya know, you might be pregnant."
We are having our usual fall drama. School is starting in two weeks, our renters gave notice that they're moving out in four weeks and we have an appointment on Thursday to find out if Jody needs another surgery for his thyroid cancer. A month ago, this might have sent me into the nut house, but some crazy prayer warrior has bumped me up and I am sailing. My perception of Jody says, he's the same. We're going to be just fine.

Call me "The Hammer"

2011-07-11T12:16:00.003-05:00

The other day I was told that the Bible is a guide, not something you "hammer" people with. It made me smile because I don't have to hammer people with the Word. "For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. - Hebrews 4:12"
Having been on a very constant faith journey for the last four years, I can say that I depend upon that truth. I depend upon the Word to not just be a guide, with love and mercy as the only bottom line but as a strong, true, living, active and precise support system for me. When I am weak, the Word does not give me any less than I need. When I am dark, it does not fail me. This is not because of anything other than that it is literally breathing life into me. While other people may feel they need to caution me about sharing that part of the Word with a lost and dying world who just wants to be loved, I know that it is all that has sustained my mind from complete bedlam and I KNOW that it is what the hungry and lost in this world need. While love is sadly defined in any way a person wants it to be, and is confused with a myriad of other things, truth stands and truth guides and truth protects. It defines love and leaves nothing up to interpretation. The thing that I see Jesus offer in all of the gospels is truth in the spirit of love. It's not an easy example to follow, but after all he is the greatest example in history. He made no excuses for peoples sins, he only forgave the repentant and gave them truth to hold on to. And so, when I have fallen, I go to Him, knowing he will forgive me in love, but equally importantly He will give me the strength to change and be more like Him. In all of my discussions with my non-Christian friends over the years I've come across people who find it offensive. They are not in a place where they can humble themselves enough to repent and be forgiven, because they don't want to believe the sin in their lives is real and true. Many of them do not even agree with me when I mention my sins and even go so far as to argue with me about the existence of my very own sin. Love without the truth only excuses our behavior and beguiles us into believing that everything under the sun is okay. So, what I ask, hurts the lost more? Love without truth or truth without love? And what will sustain the faith of a child of God in the storm? The love or the truth? For me, I know that one can accomplish nothing without the other. It is true love!

You never really have "arrived"

2011-07-04T16:13:00.000-05:00

My faith is not that of Peter's, nor even Thomas probably. Sometimes it is firm, sometimes it is weak and sometimes I am wandering in blackness repeating the truth to myself over and over wondering when the peace and faith will find me and restore the light. About a week ago, the blackness had it's grip and Satan who knows my deepest fears began to hammer away at me. He never stopped for a minute. At night as I would try to fall asleep, my heart would accelerate with fear and it held me like vise. I asked some friends to pray for me and I know they did. I know because, although I'm no sage, I do know a faithful prayer warrior. I suppose now, I could have asked for more people to pray me out of my dark place, but it felt like a mini-crisis that surely three faithful prayer warriors could extract me from. I felt better for a couple of days, then plunged again, repeated truth to myself, read the Word and waited for it to pass. I sold some furniture which boosted me but the niggle remained and the hair on the back of my neck was still on end.
Today, I got what I think is my breakthrough. I think. And although the miracles in my life are probably not worth writing to Guidepost over due to their almost normal appearance, they are worth writing to God over. I thank Him. He is always with me, and he does direct the feet of his faithful. I had some people coming to see a table and chairs in my kitchen and when I opened the door a beautiful Indian woman with a belly a tad bigger than mine stood there with her husband. I invited them in and felt happy. He explained to her why the table might not be the greatest for their space and she mentioned that she still really loved it, so he acquiesced. It was cute and very loving. I asked Jody to come in and help him take it apart, while asking them if they were from India. She said yes they were and I told them I'd had the joy of being a doula for an Indian couple and had been amazed at all of the cultural differences. She smiled and said, "oh, were they Hindu?" I said yes, and she agreed that they were very different. I was intrigued and asked her whether they were Hindu and she said "no, we're Christian." Jody came in and glanced at the husband and said "oh, you have thyroid cancer too!" I hadn't even noticed his scar but it was right there, just like Jody's. He'd had two surgeries, the last one had been two years ago, just like Jody. His vocal chord had been compromised like Jody's. His wife mentioned getting nervous about the checkup every six months and so here stood someone so like us, I couldn't quite believe it. She then mentioned that they had waited 9 months after his radioactive iodine treatment to conceive and that her husband wanted to have four or five kids. The strangest thing was, they were standing there in person addressing every fear that Satan planted in me. I was afraid the baby could have been affected by Jody's radioactive iodine treatment. Answered. I was afraid Jody's cancer could come back, answered by a little family who are fearlessly planning their life in spite of the same exact cancer. And finally, they paid me for the table, money being my other gripping fear right now with a baby on the way. This is all one month before Jody's July checkup and ultrasound. So, my wavering faith is again held by the steps of a righteous family living by faith right before my eyes. It's a comfort.

Father's Day this year and such

2011-06-23T23:47:00.001-05:00

Father's Day was beautiful and fulfilling for Jody. This makes my heart sing because, well most of the time I don't feel that I measure up or that he'll ever really feel like I'm quite good enough.
Kait and I got up and made him waffles. She busied around like a little bee chopping strawberries and arranging them on superfluous dishes and pouring his orange juice, chattering at a dizzying speed which was for some reason driving me crazy. I repeatedly hollered for Eden and finally climbed menacingly into her bed and drug her downstairs with breakfast cooling which added steam to my irrationally irritable mood. Somehow we did it all, and Jody loved his breakfast despite the portly steaming spouse at the table. I'm not sure how, but I got a shower before church. We sat in church and a father of ten got up and spoke to the fathers about "intentional parenting". I was SO convicted. It wasn't my special day but I guess I'm a special case of always wallowing in my inadequacies. Jody enjoyed it too, which really is the main thing and then we went to the Father's Day car show that the church has every year. It was nice. We went home and chilled for awhile. Gave Jody a random smattering of presents from Lowe's that he loved. I don't know deep down whether he really did love and need them or whether he just tends to be gracious about receiving gifts, anyway, he doesn't seem to intend to return the deep well sockets, the measuring tapes, the drill bits or the screw driver heads... which I have decided to chalk up as a score. We then all suited up, loaded up and headed to the new bike park on Valmont in Boulder. I would definitely say that the ride could have gone better but Jody was simply radiant that we were all riding with him at the park on Father's Day. I'm not sure how many times he thanked each of us for participating, yes even the portentous marshmallow wife rode. So, I guess we'll try to hit it again this weekend and hopefully things will go a little more smoothly each time until I'm to the waddle and squat point. Then we went home and grilled brats and hung out as a family. I call the day a success.
The kids have each had some special little moments as their anticipation of the baby grows. Nick now ascertains to me daily that the baby is a girl and still plaintively asks me if the baby is going to come out soon. One day he pointed at a picture of a baby at Costco and told me it was like OUR baby and pointed at my growing girth. He also informed Eden's friend who was here for a sleepover that there was a baby in his mom's tummy in a stage whisper. He loves my belly with complete abandon, even pulling my shirt up at the library today to whisper little messages with his lips smooshed against me followed by several wet kisses.
The other day I was telling Kaitlyn what all I needed her to do and she said "okay, but can I please visit the baby first? I haven't visited the baby in so long." She then pulled up my shirt, repeated her name about ten times to the baby, kissed my stomach and left.
Eden, after having tried to get her hand on my belly for a good kick for a couple of weeks announced to me that she thought that the baby stopped kicking when I told people, so she just wanted me to gesture to her and she would come feel it. I did this two or three times and sure enough, she finally got a good kick. When she got the kick, I stayed calm to see if she noticed it and her eyes widened and she looked ready to burst with glee." My nose got kinda burny and I know it's just the whole pregnancy hormone thing, so somehow I kept it cool and we just enthused together without mom falling apart into a weeping mess.
Kait had now of course just had it with the situation because Eden felt the baby move and she didn't so she wouldn't even try for a couple of days, but yesterday she did and got a nice big thump and the same glow came over her face. The expression of rapture again made my nose start burning, but I did my best to act normal and savor her moment with her as well.
All is well on the home front. I get bigger, summer gets hotter, kids get the summer crazies a little worse and Jody works harder, because that's what engineers do in the summer.
This is an article on the project he just finished called Fillmore Plaza in Cherry Creek, my old hood. And I guess, now he's hard at work on the phase II of the Erie Park which will be of great personal benefit to his family. I'm looking forward to it.
http://www.bizjournals.com/denver/news/2011/06/23/cherry-creek-plans-renovation-party.html
He just showed me a night scene picture of it tonight.

It makes my heart burst with pride that Jody was part of something so American, so capitalistic, so successful at driving the economy in the only sure way to make it work. Just hard working people, putting their money to work and growing businesses and creating jobs without government handouts or interferences.

Father's Day Special

2011-06-18T13:51:00.000-05:00

I can't remember a single Father's Day from when I was a kid. I can't remember a single thing I did for my dad, but he is wonderful and I hope we made them special and I just forgot. I see a lot of myself in him. My kids want me to take them off to do something and I want them to all pitch in and help me get caught up so I can enjoy it too. They just don't get it, and I don't think we did as kids either. I've always been very close to Dad and I think it's because I grabbed whatever opportunity came my way to go be with him. My siblings tend to complain about Dad always being too busy when we were kids, but I think I spent more time with Dad than not. I helped him sell and install water softeners, fetched water or tea to the hayfield, rode the tractor with him, hauled hay with him, went to the sale barn with him, listened to him talk about everything under the sun to other grownups while I twirled on the counter stool at the hardware store or the tractor parts store or traced the design of the oriental rug in the front room at Culligan. I counted inventory in the back of Culligan with him (I never knew it stuck but I know the diameter of any pipe or fitting on sight), played around in the haybarn and on the pallets of salt in the back of Culligan while he loaded and unloaded. And it had a million rewards. I know songs that other people my age don't even know exist, I've had an ample supply of mounds bars and nehigh peach sodas. I've acquired things like a beaver fur hat custom made for me and taken home a kitten on his whim. I've been on roads in Arkansas and Missouri that most people will never travel and have memories of watching the hay baler knotter being repaired over and over and over. I've chopped wood, helped repair a sickle bar, sharpened chainsaws and smashed my fingers stacking firewood more times than not. All the while, going to church anywhere from twice to five times per week, and hearing the Word over and over and over. Some would say that on Father's Day, we celebrate the dads for taking us to theme parks or going skiing, but for me, it's a day I celebrate being included in EVERYTHING in my Dad's life, being taught at his knee and having more memories with him than not from my childhood.

A boy is a wonderful thing...

2011-06-13T22:33:00.018-05:00

Pinata booty, which was then supplemented by Cam, a darling "big kid" who graced Nick's party.

I love my boy. He be celebrated his fourth birthday two days ago and I have such a hard time remembering life without his wonderfulness. Four years and two days ago, I was thrashing around in a birth tub, struggling for words to tell people to turn off the damn lights and turn on my Sarah MacLachlan music. Then, Eden was announcing to the room at large that he was a boy. My boy. Jody's boy. Such a real boy. He saunters, he talks about cars and trucks, holds me and kisses me every day, loves his nerf gun and zooms around on his strider bike like a wild man. The night before his birthday, I prayed for him and he grabbed my hand and held it and said "Mom, lets talk about cars." I begged him to stay three for another year and he obligingly agreed. The essence of Nick is yellow crocs, a ball cap, a bag of chips and either a car, a backhoe a bike or a gun. I love every minute with him. The other day he found a thumb tack and brought it to me. I asked him what he had found and he drug the point of it down the arm of our leather chair. I jumped and screamed. Tears filled his eyes and his lip wobbled, "sowwy Mom, sowwy!" Eh, who cared about the dumb chair anyway? He loves his dogs to a painful degree. Sometimes I don't know how they endure being the bad guys for at least half of the day but he does make it up to them with those painfully tight love holds. He plaintively told me he wants to play with the baby today. He's tired of waiting for it. I'm not tired of waiting, but I'm glad he is. I love my Nick. If I want a cuddle, he seems to always be handy, he will hold me, kiss me and nuzzle me in the most endearing way. He loves blankies, snuggling and reading stories. I can't think of anything Nick doesn't love. He's enthusiasm and joy from life gives me a thrill every day. The face he had when the waitresses sang "Happy Birthday" to him at Red Robin, was priceless.
I know for certain that the children we have been given are the greatest and most undeserved blessing of our life. The gift of spending our days and nights enjoying their presence is purely a gift. The gift of joy, time, love and memories. I hope I hold the pieces inside like a treasure and open the trove from time to time, so I can remember the cute little words, the hilarious facial expressions and the unexpected offerings of love.
Nicks birthday weekend was complete. He had a grand pancake breakfast made by Daddy, a dinner out, a huge party the next day with water balloon fights, a pinata, a cool tipi, hot dogs, cake, ice cream and water guns. It was a great "little boy" birthday party. It's been awhile coming. His birthdays up to now haven't amounted to much and I think this one was tops! We decided since he doesn't have very many little friends, we would have a family style party and invite anyone who has been a friend to Nick, and that turned out to be kids anywhere from the age of 1 to 12, with a total of 18 kids in attendance. For me, it was so great to have my guests arrive on foot or on bikes. We have such a fantastic community of people here and I've been lonesome for that for a long time. The second thing I realized and personally appreciated, were the benefits of having big kids at a little kids party... well the right kind of big kids, the kind that hand me paper plates, and remove difficult packaging for toys, give the little guy part of their pinata booty, let him whack them with swords during a serious water gun fight and clean up the remains of a pinata massacre. That kind! That last pic, is of Nick nailing Kieli with a water balloon.
I love you so much little boyo. My little Boo.

The end of school

2011-05-27T21:56:00.000-05:00

We finished school today. I get a little weepy here and there. I really can't quite sort out whether I feel like I'm indulging in something when I cry about the kids growing up or whether I'm being forced down that path by a bunch of sentimental chain jerkers. Either way, every year I get misty eyed. I'll be honest that I can't say I felt misty eyed over Eden moving on. She seemed to respect her teacher this year but there wasn't that bond where you know that your kid has a teacher who loves his/her students each and every one and they are all special to her. Her teacher had favorites and Eden wasn't on her short list. I kind of felt sad for her but I do know that her first two teachers were genuinely fond of her and enjoyed talking about her, so I guess you can't have it all. Kait, on the other hand, had that special teacher this year. The one that has warm and special words for each of her students and loves them all completely. I love seeing that coming from a teacher because they make such an impact on a childs life. Some of them grasp that and consider it part of their job description. It's something I appreciate that as a meddlesome critical parent.
I've felt a little person bee bopping around inside of me. Sometimes I take a minute to imagine what the little person doing somersaults and kickboxing inside of me would look like if I could see. Kait wanted to know how big it's gotten so I checked a weekly growth log on the internet. The analogies always crack me up. A bell pepper. Okay. Well, I'm not sure why almost every fetal development analogy is food oriented, but that's what we get so... the bell pepper was kicking it up today. If it were me writing it, I'd use different animals each week. It would be sure to give pregnant women crazy nightmares of delivering a guinea pig, chihuahua or a prairie dog or something. That's definitely something to motivate a woman to take her sticky white baby with gooey hair and often bruised up cone head and kiss it with fervor. All while having the incoherent thought of "thank GOD you aren't a weiner dog!" That must be why they use food. We all know it's not a watermelon in there, we know it's alive and somehow I think the seed could be planted in a crazy pregnant mind quite easily that you've got an alien or furry creature growing inside you. Just sayin.
Eden loves the science of things, so we were discussing how the body breaks down food and passes calories through the umbilical cord to the baby at dinner tonight. She got a bright smile and told me that the baby is like a balloon inside of me and the umbilical cord is pumping it up. I guess this is cute but is it very fun for a woman to think about someone hooking a bicycle pump up to her for the fourth time in her life? No, it's not fun. Do I want to feel like my belly might split right down the middle at any moment again? This is not a trick question. No, I don't!
Here was a grand time I had at the kindergarten party. Another woman who accidentally had a fourth child found out I was accidentally pregnant with a fourth child. She attached herself to me like a leach telling me how horrible it is to have four kids and how awful it is to get pregnant with a fourth child when you didn't plan it. I tried to dodge her, repeatedly rushing over to get my arms pulled out of their sockets doing the parachute game with the kids, but as soon as I gave out, she would catch me again and ply me with inappropriate questions and volunteer an unnerving amount of personal emotions over her FOURTH pregnancy. I didn't learn anything that you could say to make a woman feel better about an unplanned pregnancy but I did learn several things not to say. If this is making you fearful of what you should say to a woman who isn't thrilled to be pregnant, I have a bit of advice. Just laugh when she does and shake your head with a sad smile when she does and whack her on the back and tell her she'll be fine. It's fairly elementary. Don't be surprised if she tells you one day that she has come to terms and then complains for a week straight, followed by another announcement that she is finally happy to be pregnant. It seems to be part of the "process" from what I can determine. Obviously it has nothing to do with not wanting your child. They are purely selfish emotions related to self, not child.
My very most favorite quote of the week is "it all goes so quickly, savor every minute." My reply was "I'll try to savor at least one out of ten and call it good." Seriously, this incredibly short stage is lasting for a significant portion of my life at this point. I did just sit and stare at all three of them. I tried memorizing their faces and funny things but it's just a big mosh. What a waste of emotion and memory space. Now I appear to have completely run out of emotion and memory and I've got another little person to pour all of that into all over again.
For any person reading this who didn't have the sense to laugh: I'm FINE! I'm FINE. I am trying to be funny. It's a raw attempt at dry wit and sarcastic inappropriate humor.

Beauty of a season

2011-05-22T16:56:00.001-05:00

It's spring. Some days are windy, some are sunny and some are rainy. I've been told by a friend who lives in Portland that nobody is sharing much pity for a person in Colorado who cries in her teacup over four days of rain. I think we had more than four days of rain but somehow I don't think that makes much difference to the people sweltering in Arkansas and living under umbrellas in Portland. It may very well have drowned the tomato plants... but again, I doubt this is dredging up much pity from any front.
We are leaning into our last week of school. I can almost taste the freedom but first we must do two weeks of swim lessons at 8AM. Then I'm free. Free as a bird to sweat my way through summer with a growing baby belly.
This afternoon we went to a neighbors house. They bought some furniture from me and mentioned they had to postpone coming to see it because they had baby goats born. It was practically an invitation to see the little cutie pies, so we ate a quick lunch and scuttled over there to cuddle some little warm soft bits of God's creation. They had a two month old llama named Bandit, so we got to visit with him too. Adorable!
When we got home, it was such a lovely day the kids decided to plant my pepper and collard green plants. Mommy remembered to take pictures! Everyone pat me on the back! These are the moments we wish we had pictures of, and this time I DO!

Savor the flavor

2011-05-18T09:30:00.002-05:00

My hazelnut tea sits beside me in a cup Kait specially picked for me this AM. It's filled with the tea from Eden and Kait's cups after they left for school. I am honored that they favor me with little expressions of love and flattered that they wanted to have tea with me this morning. I over steeped it, so they didn't drink it. I love the tender taste buds that haven't been hardened by years of parenting. I remember when an over steeped pot of tea went right down the drain. Now, I just savor the flavor and imagine how perfect it could have been.
We had some lovely conversations this morning, centering around the baby. It started with some new words crossing my lips. I told them I'm excited to be pregnant. They had no idea this was a milestone with me which I think is a small miracle and definitely a good thing. I said something to the effect of having wished I could have picked my last baby out at an orphanage in Africa but this was great too. Eden volunteered Kait or Nick for taking me on that journey but reasserted her age old message of "but I'm not sure I'll ever have kids so I probably won't do that." I laughed and told her it wasn't very fair for her to be all excited for me to have four kids and then warn me that she might not ever give me any grandchildren. Eden told me her friend Destinee was amazed that I'm pregnant which Eden related with the "play by play" effect. It made me feel weird and old. You can't really describe how weird it is for one of your kids to relate to you what other people think of your pregnancy when you've always just had little toddlers running around when you get pregnant saying "mommy has a baby in her tummy! mommy has a baby in her tummy!"
I'm always looking to see what's under the surface with the girls so I said. "What would you say if someone wanted to know why I have babies at home?"
Eden's had a certain air about her since she was two and it always tricks me into parenting her like she's a teenager for some reason. She paused in her lunch making, and while holding a ziploc bag, an air of knowledge fell over her like a mantle. "I would just tell them that you are more comfortable at home and you have your babies in the water instead of an old hard bed because the water makes you feel better." She said the word 'feel' with great emphasis.
Kaitlyn piped in with "I'm going to tell everyone that you like to have your babies in a tub!" Nice visual Kait, now I do feel like the weirdos on the SNL skit.
Yesterday Kaitlyn also asserted to me that dinosaurs are distinct. She was so proud of the use of the word. My little mini me. I remember reading the dictionary and practicing words and thinking of profound sentences to use them in only to finally lay it out there for Mom and Dad and have them burst into hysterical laughter and then pronounce it properly to me.
Jody and I are picking baby names. He has no motivation so I'm rolling along like a steam roller with him going around and around the steel plate against his will. I write lists with names, where they are on the popularity chart and what they mean. I email them to him and he grudgingly highlights the one's he likes in red. We're only on the first name right now so I can see this could be a rather lengthy process. We have two solid ideas but I do have a name I just can't convince him of for a girl but I WANT it. I have this annoying habit of thinking if I say it over and over to him in a cute voice he will grow to like it. Jody's stubborn so it will probably have the opposite effect.
I have stared at baby things on craigslist for three months. I am not convinced I need a single thing I've seen. I have a very short list of six things I need which of course will have to be new (carseat) or from a specialty store sigh. I hate having had so much baby experience. It makes me so picky. The rest of that stuff all depends on the baby. When you KNOW it's your last one, there is no point in having something that your baby might not like. That's my philosophy anyway. I will admit that this could be a hangover from the incredibly liberating process I went through two years ago when I got rid of a million baby things. Having that snatched away is a bit of a stabbing pain because the kids have certainly acquired enough things to compensate for the unloading of baby paraphernalia. I feel almost claustrophobic when I go in the "baby room" and the kids have scattered their stuff around playing. They CANNOT grow into that room. They CANNOT!
Later today Nick strolled into the kitchen while Fiona was here for a playdate with Kait. He told me "The girls are in the bedroom, but I'm not a "girly girl" I'm a boy like daddy---- and the baby." Oh sweet Jesus, let the boy have a boy please! I can't imagine his disappointment with another sister. LOL! He looked at me quizzically and said "do we still have a baby Mom?" I said "yeah, it's still in my tummy." He kicked the kitchen cabinet with his toe and said "I want to see it" and turned and ambled out of the kitchen.
Nick played with a one year old baby at Bible study the other day and he was quite funny. He had no concept of appropriate play for such a tiny tot which gave me giggles. I think he loved the baby but when the baby came to me and was talking gibberish, Nick scrambled up me like a cub and said very plainly "this is MY mommy" while holding me in a crushing hug. Oh boy. How do the one's who got to be the baby for this long cope I wonder. I do wonder.

The sower of the Word

2011-05-16T21:57:00.000-05:00

Matthew 13

3 Then he told them many things in parables, saying: “A farmer went out to sow his seed. 4 As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. 5 Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. 6 But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. 7 Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants. 8 Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. 9 Whoever has ears, let them hear.”
18 “Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: 19 When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart. This is the seed sown along the path. 20 The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. 21 But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. 22 The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful. 23 But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.”

It's supposed to be a challenge, something to rise to. Something to be. But I've been a bumbling sower for years. I find it... frustrating. I read the parable and I see faces. I see the one's who had no roots. Then I think about the the one's who didn't try to understand me, and instead tried to see the Word through human eyes which enabled Satan to steal it from them. It's such a downer. Recently, I had a little boost though. A friend told me that people I didn't know, had been witnessing to and praying for a family who I had recently invited to church for years. All it took was a warm conversation and an invitation to church, for something to start. Jesus, my prophet. I love it when your words match something happening in my life. It makes me feel like you're my friend and not just a friend of the disciples.

John 4
36 Even now the one who reaps draws a wage and harvests a crop for eternal life, so that the sower and the reaper may be glad together. 37 Thus the saying ‘One sows and another reaps’ is true. 38 I sent you to reap what you have not worked for. Others have done the hard work, and you have reaped the benefits of their labor.”

I'd like to hug every sower in that family's life. I'd like to be glad with them. I'd also like to think that I'm wrong about the one's who's faces are like ghosts to me. I'd like to think that they WERE fertile ground and my seeds were slow to germinate or were dormant. That someone even now might be reaping the harvest of something sown long ago.

"The Best Mom in the World"

2011-05-10T14:08:00.001-05:00

When Jody pulled me close and pressed his mouth into my hair and told me I was the most amazing mother and he couldn't imagine anyone else who could be a better mother to his children, you'd think I would get a warm fuzzy glow. Instead, I got the jolt we all get but somehow I think mine is worse than average, Mother guilt. I wish I were better. I wish, I wish, I wish. Mostly, I wish I measured up to the beautiful cards the kids made and people gave me. I wish I were the greatest mom in the world so those cards would feel like a well deserved accolade and I was finally being given proper appreciation.
Last week was just basically a bust. Nick ran away with Journey on his strider. I ran and screamed and ran and screamed but they were out of earshot and I was just a gasping, fat, pregnant woman standing there with anger and fear competing for the top emotion. In those terrible twenty minutes when he was lost, all I could do was burst into tears, imagining the worst and wondering why in the world God had put another child inside of me. The next day I got a call reminding me to pay a very important bill... How did I forget that? It was three days late! The next day I got an email from Kaitlyn's teacher wondering if I'd forgotten her assessment. Two days later... yes I got a day of respite, my carpool friend called me and wondered if I'd forgotten the kids at school. Oh, yes I had! I can't do it! I really can't. I'm too lazy, too disorganized and too everything for four kids. I say it to friends and they give me an uncomprehending smile. They really don't think it's that big of a deal. They have planners that are completely filled in. They have a laundry system. They have clean bathrooms. This is a part of their daily routine, and yet their lives are a mystery to me. I'm just that simple girl who falls off of the organization wagon, has a complete wipe out and has to create a new resolve on a regular basis.
I kind of wonder sometimes... what if there were a super mom about twenty years older than me, who would come live with me for a month and teach me how to be "The Best Mom in the World". She could put me on a schedule, use a hot shot on me when I sit down to puddle on Craigs List or my blog and lecture me for several hours per day on how to be the proverbial virtuous woman, all while reminding me of the schedule. I wonder if it would create a new mentality for me. I wonder if that would be the key to becoming "The Best Mom in the World."

Another year slides by...

2011-05-02T16:18:00.001-05:00

On May 2nd, 2005 I woke up about 7:30AM wondering if I would be pregnant forever or just go into labor someday. At 10:35AM, I was holding a screaming baby girl in my arms who had been named before Christmas, Kaitlyn Belle Allen. It was like I'd always known her. She flew out of me like greased lightning and I had to tell someone to grab her before she banged her head on the floor of the birth tub. It was probably the most defining day of my life as a woman, so I could really go on and on, but today I celebrate six years of knowing and loving Kait, not the anniversary of the day I realized I was superwoman. Just kidding, really.
So, what started out as a blood curdling scream the day she was born has now grown into nonstop chatter...and she has a quip and a sassy remark for everything that comes up. She'll negotiate anything, from changing into her play clothes, to getting candy before dinner. Even after my final answer... I swear I have no idea who she takes after. No, honestly? Every time she pops off, I feel like I'm looking in a mirror at myself 25 years ago and I feel laughter bubbling inside me. I guess there's more to Kait than just that smart mouth though. She's spunky, riding her bike fearlessly and stubborn, holding her position just a little longer than I can stand sometimes, sensitive when she thinks someone is laughing at her and fragile, bursting into tears when someone forgets to pray with her before bed; she's beautiful, taking strangers breath away and thoughtful, making a special breakfast for Jody and me on our anniversary; practical, explaining her reasoning of things to no end and even autocratic at times, demanding that Eden and Nick play exactly what she wants in the way she wants with the characters she wants, and with the lines she wants them to say. But mostly, Kait is loving. She is so kind to her siblings and so helpful to me. I always feel a spirit of love in her. Ginny calls her a "Who" because she has a little "Who" face but underneath I don't think she's quite so gullible and maleable as little "Cindy Lu Who". Her foundation is solid,her faith is unshakable and I foresee a girl who will plow her way through life, with not just a conscience, but a determination to see that truth is upheld. Yes, I'm proud of my little Kaity Kat, but who wouldn't be?

Mushy gushy

2011-04-21T09:43:00.000-05:00

It's April and I am completely twitterpated. Jody and I stood on a bluff in Arkansas one April day and we promised before that gathering to treat each other with utmost care and consideration and love. I am happy to say that nine years later, my list of regrets and wrongs suffered are meaninglessly short and my warm memories of love and care are endlessly long. Jody and I have really lived life together. I remember when it felt like we had no history. There were all of these people with all of these memories with Jody but I wasn't one of them. Now, it seems like I'm the one who knows him and cares for him the best of all. I don't know how we did it, but we got one of those lucky, incredibly cohesive marriages. I love him! Ah, I am so glad that I am twitterpated on my 9th anniversary instead of the alternative.
Now, can I make this little story as funny for you as it was for me? Twill be the true proof of good writing though it could never be quite as funny to someone who doesn't really know Jod. We sat on the couch watching The Office. Michael was trying to get up the courage to propose. Everyone was saying how scary it is even if you know the girl will say yes. Jody turned to me with an exaggeratedly serious face and said "I was nervous". I laughed and said "yeah, there was a real risk I'd turn you down..." He snickered and said "nah, I had you right where I needed you with a bun in the oven." I started laughing at his little quip when a light dawned in is eye and he said "Kind of like right now!!!! We should renew our vows!!! You could go put on your wedding dress and we can go out there on the deck and... RENEW OUR VOWS! It was just this time of year too!!!!" I was now hopelessly giggling over the sheer thought of Jody EVER doing something as public and sappy as a vow renewal and all because I'm pregnant in the spring again. He cracks me up sometimes. Life really is good.

Lift Off

2011-04-06T11:01:00.001-05:00

As Jody and I sally forth in life with our arms locked and our shoulders squared, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that we are walking across the palm of God and he has marked our path for us. So, while sometimes one of us feels like a foot gets stuck in between his fingers or that the wavy print of his hands are too bumpy (maybe that's why I've been so queasy lately), I must thankfully acknowledge, that it's a close, familiar and special, even Holy place we tread. I'm overwhelmed when looking back over the last few years, seeing so clearly how God has held us, spoken to us and used us. It has been a much better journey than the one people walk down there on the cold hard ground. I think I can remember the day we stepped off of the ground and into his hand. Well, I'll speak for myself, I tend to assume that Jody always feels exactly the same way I do because he does more than half... but anyway... Fear had a clincher hold on us of with all of that stuff we were going through and God put a picture in my mind of us sleeping in our bed and it was sitting in His hand. His other one was smoothing our covers. I guess that was the moment of "lift off."
I'm pregnant. When we found out, it might be an understatement to say that we were extremely upset that things were NOT going our way. Just to clarify why, I'd like to reference my 2005 Christmas letter where I lined out that we had been blessed with a second daughter and were happy that Gods plans had so far coincided with ours and we hoped for a little boy someday to make our family complete. You may then reference the 2007 Christmas letter in which Nicholas (the little boy) arrived. You can imagine our shock that God had not wrapped up his family plan for us when we did. Nick will be four in June... Jody and I even looked to heaven and asked God if he just didn't even like us, in our selfish moment of "BUT WE WERE DONE!" I wallowed in this self pity/God loathing state for a few weeks... several weeks... much to the bemusement and even dismay of my closest friends, but alas it came time to read James and reconcile. This is the only proven method in my life for receiving constructive criticism. I have granted James a special authority but I suspect it's because he's dead and his book is short. Some little excerpts: "God blesses the people who patiently endure testing." Made me think of this little peanut inside of me right now because I always hear "it's a blessing, it's a blessing, it's a blessing." Then down a little further "Whatever is good and perfect comes to us from God above who created all of heavens lights." Ah, what could be more "good and perfect" than a little baby, hand made by God for our family? The part in between talked about the danger of blaming God for tempting you when you want to do something wrong. Something wrong... something wrong... like considering a pregnancy anything but a joyous sovereign gift from heaven to be celebrated and going so far as to ask God if it's a mean trick? See, I like it when James sticks it to me. I must be sick... but anyway. Alrighty then! So yeah, that's what we signed up for when we stepped off of the the cold hard ground and onto the living palm of God. Plans that were not our own and ways that are not our ways. We've kinda got our "palm legs" though. We can roll with it.
So, to the wonderful little person inside of me, if you ever read this blog, you've blessed me already and I've only known about you for a few weeks. You will be an amazing person I know, and I consider it pure bonus that God used you to help me become the woman He wants me to be.

A vaulted ceiling, a mirror and the elusive trash can...

2011-02-24T16:00:00.000-06:00

Last night I sat in our living room with Nick. I tipped my chin to the ceiling and belted out songs at the top of my lungs. I sang everything from "Amazing Grace" to "The Wild Colonial Boy." I'm sure Jody was glad to have a tv to hook up in the basement so he didn't have to sit through my ridiculous opera show. Nick liked it though. He asked me to sing "The Wild Colonial Boy" twice!
There's some rather entertaining things about this house. There's a giant mirror in the dining room. The neighbor works for the glass company who installed it and he told me it's there for good. So, every single meal, Nick watches himself eat. He pauses and shoots at his reflection or opens his mouth as wide as possible while scrunching his nose into a little bunch and bugging his eyes out. Sometimes he smiles as pleasantly as can be at his reflection and makes efforts to appear that he is very pleased with his food as he chomps it with great appreciation. Kaitlyn appears to care nothing for the mirror but Eden has used it on two occasions to help summon tears. It always helps her cry if she can stare at her dismal reflection while bringing her tears on. Jody and I just try not to look at ourselves eating which we both find rather nauseating and focus rather diligently on not giving Nick any attention for his hilarious antics.
One day Kait said "Mom, I'm very sorry to tell you this but there are some THINGS that I just can't get used to at this house". I said "really, like what?" I thought she'd say she didn't like being way upstairs without us or that she wasn't used to Theresa being gone. Nah, silly me. "Well, I always open the pantry to find the trash and it's not there and I get confused about opening the refrigerator" (it swings the other way). Ah yes, these are the grave concerns of the five year old who just relocated. LOL!
This morning Nick snuggled up to me and said "Mom, are you going to ride a giraffe soon?" I said "no, I don't think so, are you?" "Yes" he said simply. "Oh, how are you going to do that?" "I'm just going to climb up there."
Finally, a note I found written by Eden on a small hot pink post it note.
How To Go To Abby's House:
1. get a jet
2. get on a jet
3. forese (force)mom to go on a trip
4. do it for my b-day
(flip to back side)
5. get really mad
6. say I miss her so bad

Aww, Gin and Brad, please move here!!!!

Priceless

2011-01-26T10:51:00.000-06:00

Antique Automobile Coloring Book .25 cents.

Talking Scooby $2.

Pottery Barn Kids Whale Step Stool $5.

Vintage Retro Yellow Dresser $10.

Kaitlyn announcing that she locked a master lock onto her seat belt when you have a dresser in the back of the van and no other seat for her... priceless.

The new hood in Erie

2011-01-20T13:35:00.001-06:00

When we moved here, Eden started Kindergarten and made two friends who made it through to second grade with her as declared friends who she must extend birthday party invitations to. Oddly enough, their last names start with A, C and a D so they were all grouped together at Kindergarten graduation and I snapped a photo. I loved it because they were a rainbow with the blonde, red and dark hair. Left to right, is Lauren, Charlotte and Eden.
In about a month, her first fast friends at school will be close enough neighbors to walk to each others houses. I'm thankful for her to have this continuity in her life. We left Littleton when she was two and a half and she was devastated after the tea party we hosted to tell all of her cute little friends goodbye. Then, when we left Kasson, she cried her first true heartbreak cry. She sat on those stairs and cried for her home and her best friend and I felt AWFUL! So now, Eden will be near her friends and we'll have water gun fights and run in the sprinklers and ride bikes to the ice cream shop and all of those things that you hope your kids will experience with their friends through childhood. Man, I'm such a sentimental sap.

This is Eden and Lauren dressed up for Halloween this year.

This is Eden reading a birthday card from Charlotte this year:

Kaitlyn is in Kindergarten this year and she is in class with Lauren's little sister whom she made friends with when Eden and Lauren struck up a friendship. She asked me a few weeks ago if she could have a tea party with some friends from school. She chose Fiona, Katelyn and Abby. They all live in Erie and two of them live within a stroll of the new house. I snapped a pic of their party. Left to right is Kait, Fiona, Katelyn and Abby.

All I have left is to find Nick a circle of friends. I hope it all comes together for the little guy this year.
So, that's why the nomads are moving again. And stay tuned, I wouldn't be surprised to see another move coming up in the next two or three years. ;-)

As a mother...

2011-01-18T18:02:00.001-06:00

We all curl our toes when we think about the "sex" talk. We paint these pictures in our minds of how we'll stutter and avoid it until the last possible chance and then hopefully just pass the whole thing off to the "sex ed" teacher in sixth grade. Okay, not all of us. I'm the lone ranger who flew by the seat of my pants and just knew that if I answered every question that came to me completely giving no more and no less than they asked, it would all go off famously... and... so far, it's going great. When Eden was four I got pregnant with Nick and she wanted to know how a baby got in there. I got the cutest little book that was called "How Babies are Made" and read it to her several times. It was so cute, completely avoiding sex, just showed a cartoon picture of sperm and egg saying they join together in a mothers womb and then they grow into a baby. She was fascinated with sperm and eggs, thinking it was amazing that it took a piece of a mom and a dad and they joined together to make a new person. It was all she wanted to know. A couple of days ago we were packing up her room for the move and she said. "Mom, how old are boys and girls when they get their sperms and eggs?" I had to have the question repeated because I had been very engrossed in whether to keep all 487 stuffed animals or just 162 of them. Once I hit the reset button I was fine though.
"Oh, you were born with eggs, all of the eggs you'll ever have are already inside you... but that's a good question about sperm, I guess I forgot. I'll check that out. Why?"
"Oh, I just wondered if that's why Abby and Ethan can't take a bath together."
When something has been germinating in a completely innocent mind, it can be very hard to grasp where it's going.
"Hm, what do you mean Eden? I'm not quite getting it."
"Oh, well Kait and Nick still take a bath together sometimes but Abby and Ethan don't so I thought maybe if they were in the bath, the sperm could swim over to Abby and she could get pregnant."
This was very enlightening and I was very glad that I had pursued this conversation.
I smiled and said "No, you have to have actual sex to get pregnant, you can't get sperm out of the water."
She nodded and said "ooooohhhh."
I wondered if the next question would come. We've come that close before and she'd never pursued it.
After a minute it came "so what exactly is sex?"
I said "the penis goes inside the vagina and releases the sperm, and if the girl is ovulating, the sperm fertilizes the egg and a girl gets pregnant. So you see, it's not easy to get pregnant, you have to have sex, and that's why God made it that way. Sometimes, if people have sex with someone who they aren't married to, they can get pregnant and have no daddy for their baby. God's plan for a family is that every child gets to have both a mommy and a daddy, and it's beautiful. So, you should only ever have sex with one person, like me."
She nodded very seriously and said "Daddy."
I decided to go ahead and explain when a girl could get pregnant since it was hand in hand with the rest and was after all, the original question. "And, a girl cannot get pregnant until she has a period."
"What's a period?"
"It's what I have each month when I bleed. It's an egg that wasn't fertilized by a sperm. Every month a woman ovulates which means she produces an egg and if a sperm doesn't fertilize it during ovulation, she has a period about two weeks later. A period starts when you're 12 or 13."
She sat quietly thinking about everything I said and said "okay, I get it."
No embarrassment, no blushing. Nothing. It was strictly a scientific question for her. I decided that it was nice that she asked me before all of the boy crazy stuff started. It seems to be so much easier to just add a little piece of information to the stack as she asks. Hopefully it will all end well. We'll see. I really should have read a book or something. Too late to second guess now! LOL! Btw, to my mommy friends, I did also tell her that it's not appropriate for kids to talk about, and each parent tells their own children about how babies are made in their own way.

Girlfriends and God

2011-01-12T19:47:00.001-06:00

Last year I hit thirty and thought things would start to make sense. Who was I kidding? I still feel like a nineteen year old girl "playing grownup." People have always said that age is just a number and now that I'm thirty-one I think I have figured that one out. The question of where I'm at, now that I'm thirty-one is the most interesting contemplation, not the monotonous progressive counting reminiscent of kindergarten. A great discovery now that I'm in my thirties is the incomparable value of girlfriends and God. I'll be honest that I guess I'm a late bloomer in this respect. Most people seem to grasp the value of girlfriends fairly early on but I didn't. Managing relationships has never been my strong suit and I was not good at prioritizing or showing appreciation for my girlfriends at all. Through my twenties I think Jody and I explored the immeasurable worth of having a true connection with your spouse as you begin a family. It was great and I look back on it with a glow of satisfaction. But now I'm broadening and thinking about things in a little different way. My chum Jenn brought over Chinese and we had a four hour lunch today. When I was primarily focused on Jody, I used to sensationalize how grand it would be to go have lunch with him, and it is grand if he has the day off of work. On the other hand, if you go on a work day, he will be thrilled but distracted and you'll be lucky to have him 70% at attention for a little less than an hour. I'm not saying Jody is an abysmal lunch date. I'm saying it's not the best way to connect with him and it's not the most relaxing thing in the world that you can do for him. On the contrary, I feel like I'm slightly taxing him. I don't regret the effort, I feel we have nice memories from our lunches and I'm sure we'll still do it, but under close examination a good question is "What is the best way to love your man with meaning?" Around noon Jenn called to tell me she was running a bit late because she had tried to cram a little too much into her morning so she could be free all afternoon without chores. I laughed and told her I had done exactly the same thing. We were so focused on how great our lunch date was going to be, that we had crammed a ridiculous amount of effort into setting our entire afternoons free. And we were glad we did. We ate way too much Chinese and gabbed it up for the whole afternoon. It was kind of a dawning of a new realization for me. How nice to have my dream lunch and an animated discussion of things that would be physically painful for Jody. How nice for Jody to come home to a less than needy wife who had a great day and prepared a fine dinner. By the same token, how nice it was that he and I had a lovely breakfast together without my telephone or internet when he had a day off last week. I feel the same glow from both experiences and I'm glad that I'm learning how to tap into the "good times".
The other thing I'm exploring in my thirties is resuming my "best friend" status with God that I had in my teen years. It seemed like I just couldn't do it in my twenties. I had baggage from churches, choices and the overwhelming new job of wife and mother. I think finding God in the middle of it was just beyond my faith and organization level. It seemed like whenever Jody and I made a step in that direction we'd hit a spiritual wall and the Holy Spirit was elusive. I look at how reachable God is to me now compared to my twenties and I'm kind of flabbergasted and very thankful. I spent a worried and guilty decade wondering how I was ever going to get back to Him and here we are. I finally feel myself pulling back into a comfortable and familiar friendship that makes everything in life make sense. So yeah, I'm glad I'm thirty-one and I'm pretty sure I'll be glad to turn fifty-one and eighty-one.

And a Happy New Year!

2011-01-04T11:44:00.001-06:00

We had a fabulous time in Arkansas with my family. There were a couple of dim spots. Daniel, Hannah and Karhys weren't there and many things conspired against us making it to the farm, so the kids have to wait to meet the new filly named Jasmine indefinitely. I must say though, we had great food, as much tea as a person could want, a latte at my fingertips at any moment(courtesy of our great host Brad), a warm fire and five children in the house to make it feel completely like Christmas. I wish I could recall all of the things that made me laugh until I cried but they escape me and I'm left with a warm happy feeling that should last me until spring.
A couple of days before we left, Brad asked if I wanted to go to a thrift store with him and I agreed. We eventually wound up at a pawn shop where a man was trying to sell a 12 gauge home defense shotgun with pistol grips and a night spotlight. It was rather ironic because Jody had just told me two weeks ago that he wanted one for Christmas. I have a rather soft spot for home defense, so he kinda hooked me. Long story short, the pawn shop wouldn't pay his asking price but Brad and I were jockying for the chance to, and Brad the gentleman let me win. We strolled into the house and I handed Jody the case and told him I got him a little something for taking care of all five kids while we were gone. So we blasted out of 2010 with a shotgun on the back of Ginny and Brad's property. So fun!
Today was the girls first day back at school. Eden had a history report due which had somehow morphed into Jody assembling a model of the U.S.S. Constitution. I really thought he was going to lose it and smash the whole thing to pieces a few times. He would explode and then smile at me rather sheepishly and try again. One time I heard a clatter of tiny pieces and then "shhhhhhhhhhhhhh------oooot!" As he neared the end, he turned to me to put on the rigging and sails. It was not a well made model. I'll just stop. I might be able to make a story about this funny sometime down the road but I think the pain is just too fresh. Anyway, Eden sat down and wrote a very nice report on "Old Ironsides" and I loved it.
Today I am sitting here for a moment to document how wonderful my morning with the two greatest guys in the world has been. We shuttled the girls off to school and then had pumpkin bread, sausage and eggs with hot tea. We were satisfied with the rarity of this treat in and of itself when a hawk landed on our back fence and

decided to breakfast with us. While he happily dined on a fresh bird, Jody took the opportunity to take his portrait which he seemed to enjoy. He let Jody come right into the back yard with him.

If I make it through this week...

2010-12-10T12:15:00.000-06:00

I'll deserve a tiara at the least but more appropriately a pair of wings. The week started off with Monday. I don't know how everyone else feels about that but I do know how Garfield feels... and I tend to agree. I screwed up going to Bible study by accidentally scheduling a couch pickup after dropping the girls at school. Nick and I drove down to Stapleton and picked up the jester sofa. I now have three couches in stock and it's the only one I like. Why I have the other two is a mystery. That night I don't know what I made fish and rice for dinner and we went to choir practice at 6:30. This sounds like a loosely filled day as long as you don't add in the park, potty trips, the three trecks to school in a day, feeding people, negotiating the most ridiculous things like, who touched Mommy first when we got out of the car and trying to keep the laundry under control. The next day wasn't terrible but it was tight. We did all of the usual grind but then picked up Wendy's on our way to the Children's Museum for "Target Tuesday" which is the free night. We got home at 8:30 completely wiped but it was SO fun! They are all three at the most perfect ages for me to go to the Museums etc... with all three by myself. Wednesday was a bit of a mosh. Fill in all of the drudgery plus Kait had a playdate and I hadn't had any bread for Edens lunch so Nick and I swung by school and picked her up for lunch. She loved it! Nick and I spent forever at Target after that, getting the deals of the century. I walked out with basically the whole store for a song. The cashier smiled at me and said. "You did good, really good. I'm going to tell my daughter about you." Poor daughter. BUT, that takes about two hours of planning. So, if you're one of those people who says "oh, I don't know how you have time for that." You're right, it does take time. Lots of time. But it pays better than a $10 an hour job at Penney's. If you're intrigued, create an account on couponmom.com and you'll see how addictive it can be to save more than you spend at the store. We went home, put away millions of groceries and Christmas gifts and chocolate that was basically free, and went and got the girls. Every night of the week, please insert homework. Sometimes in the car making Eden think she's going to puke, sometimes at home with grape juice spilled on it... I made sausage potato soup with some delicious leftover fingerling potatoes in the fridge and loaded back up and headed to choir practice at 6:30. We were there until 8:15. Yesterday was when things started to unravel.I sluggishly pulled myself from bed after staying up way too late watching House and folding laundry. I showered... was that the first time this week? God I hope not. We all had to go to school because Thursdays I volunteer in Kait's class. I also had to wear makeup because Eden has always requested makeup and earrings from me when I volunteer so Kait has started making that request too even though she really doesn't care. It presents a problem because makeup gives me a terrible headache. Nick and I were there til 9:45 with my eyes burning and head pounding and then we ran home and tried to get some preschool time in together. Meanwhile the house has not been vacuumed since Sunday and for some reason Journey appears to be shedding her entire winter coat???? Everywhere we go, Nick looks like a miniature "abominable snowman" because he rolls in the fur... I mean floor. I've furminated her twice and put entire grocery bags of hair in the trash. We picked up Kait and filled the very empty car with gas. We came home, grabbed Eden's lunch which I'd forgotten to take with me not once but twice in one day and ran it over to the school. When we got back, Linda called and said she was taking Amani to Golden Ponds and would we like to go too. I bundled everyone up and we went to Golden Ponds. The wind was blowing the kids bikes backwards when they tried to ride them so Linda and I called it good and loaded them back up and went home. Kait and Amani and Nick played in the basement all afternoon while I prepared my King Soopers list. We picked Eden up and headed to Kings... Yes, me, three kids and everyone in Longmont who has gotten off work for the day with a giant cart with a car on the front. I had to count items too. It became Eden's job to keep track. For every ten items we saved $5, and she did a good job. They all insisted on a free cupcake, and a free cookie.... and yes a free balloon. Now it was me, three sugar high kids and three red balloons with a giant cart and more people streaming into the store. I had coupons, i had a list of my digital coupons. I had to keep Eden counting the bonus buys and neither Nick nor Kait would stay in the cart. Then the dreaded baking aisle. Yes, can you see it? Christmas baking time! Every man or woman was either in the baking aisle or swarming at the end of it trying to get into it. Somehow... we busted out of there with our chocolate chips. It got to the point that strangers were warning my children that they were "going to get into trouble with their mother" if they got out of the little car." Finally we waded our way to the register and escaped. Again, I took home the whole store for peanuts. I think my garage looks like a food bank these days. We dashed home, put away groceries made taco meat and black beans with cheese as fast as possible. Stuck the taco shells in the oven while hollering at Eden over and over that she has to do her homework as fast as possible. Suddenly wondered if I had switched the oven from broil to 300 degrees. Skidded over to the oven, pulled the door open and flames lept a foot high out the oven door. Eden started screaming and the smoke alarm went off. I threw a cup of water in the oven and our house turned to a dense cloud of smoke. The kids stood with oven mitts waving them in the air around the smoke alarm while I ran the charred "remains" out to the dumpster. Jody walked up. I announced that we were having taco salads and that it had to be eaten in two minutes. Two minutes later I announced that the girls had to get their shoes on so we could make it to choir practice. We were there until 8:00. Tonight will be the first performance. We will be there from 5:45 to? and tomorrow we have two performances call time of 1:30 until???? 7?

The Season For Cheer

2010-11-28T22:45:00.000-06:00

I haven't had a Christmas with my whole family since Jody and I got married. I've had Mom and Dad come, and I've had Ginny and Daniel come but we haven't all gathered together for a Christmas in years. I'll admit, I'm having a bit of a boo hoo that Daniel won't be sent home a bit early from Afghanistan so he can have Christmas with us but it'll be mighty close to a full family Christmas. Apparently Abby is so excited that we're coming that she has cleaned her room and purged it twice. Not only that but she's avidly creating little origami boxes and such for who knows what. Gin acts like it's a trial due to all of the bits and pieces that are always lying around but I know she loves Abby's active mind and nonstop ideas.
On our end, we're shopping and wrapping gifts already. We managed to get Marcy and Jerry their gifts and sent with them to Minnesota so it's one less package to agonize over. Whew, I've given myself a target of one more week to get Daniel and the Barry's packages off and two weeks to write my Christmas letter and get a family picture done. There, it's in writing so I have accountability.
Last night Marcy and I took Eden and Kait to The Nutcracker which was fantastic. We all put on our finest and dressed to the nines. We went to the Mackey in Boulder and it's old and beautiful. We sat in the third row of the balcony and the second row was empty, so the girls neither one had to look over a head. The cathedral ceiling of the auditorium was breathtaking and the girls absorbed every detail. Kait made it through about three sets before she told me that she thought there were going to be words and that she was sad there weren't any words. I don't know how I failed to describe the performance as a ballet but those are the little surprises of parenting. Eden was completely enthralled. She loved the music, the tricks of the stage and all of the amazing costumes. She knows the story of The Nutcracker well, so there were few surprises and many fulfilled visions for her. During the intermission we all shared a giant cookie and the girls drank hot cocoa in their beautiful Christmas dresses. It was one of those moments. I saw it in Marcy's face and I felt it in my heart. We were so glad we lived it. We were so glad we made the effort and made the memory and made the investment in the girls. Marcy got them each a trinket to remember our outing. After the second act started Kait again bemoaned that there were no words. I made up some words like I was a narrator but she was across Marcy so I didn't do it for very long. Pretty soon I could hear her just chattering away in quiet voice and leaned over. Marcy told me Kait was narrating it for herself. It's a fine jewel in my treasure chest of memories. We all had a wonderful time.
I told the girls that this year we are going to live up the Christmas season like never before. We're going to the tree lighting in town, we're making cookies and decorating ornaments with friends, they're singing in the Christmas production at Church and we're doing every other festive thing I can think of. What's the point of life if you don't live it?

Traditions of time...

2010-11-18T14:48:00.003-06:00

My childhood Thanksgivings were grand. It was the embodiment of the true spirit of Thanksgiving. Mom was always overwhelmed. She never knew how many turkeys she was going to have to cook. She didn't know how many chairs and tables she would set but somehow she always muddled through, linens starched, crystal and china washed and silverware polished.
We formed some traditions that died before we had a chance to get too used to them but some still hang on. About a year after Mom and Dad bought Culligan Mom announced that she was postponing Thanksgiving dinner to Saturday so she would have time to prepare for it. It stuck. Instant tradition. It was a double edged sword though. Yes, she had more time to prepare but practically nobody we knew would be otherwise engaged the Saturday after Thanksgiving... and the number of people who get invited to a house when six people are doing the inviting gets a little bit out of hand. Mom stuck to her southern hospitality with fervor though. Some people who came were a thrill and some were less than thrilling. I prefer to reminisce about the thrilling people. We loved to invite the Torrijos family every year and embrace the diverse heritage and the shared thankfulness for America. Gilberto and Elesia were first generation Americans hailing from Columbia with a mysterious fascinating background and beautiful foreign accents. I can hear Gilberto's hearty laugh as I sit here. He was like a grandfather to me in some ways, maybe a great uncle or something, I don't know but he was grand and funny. Aunt Bonnie and Aunt Jessie always came with our cousins Diane and sometimes Michael. Aunt Bonnie personified joy, her voice rang clear and high above the din and her shattering laugh was her hallmark. Aunt Bonnie and Gilberto now laugh for Jesus in heaven. That tradition is gone but I've saved it as an example I would like to pull out and apply in my own home someday. Striking vibrant people who are the jewels of a party. Aunt Nancy and Uncle Roger usually came. Uncle Roger would be pressed into service repairing a car and Aunt Nancy would industriously charge into the kitchen and start delegating tasks that Mom had been trying to shoulder on her own.
We always bought huge bags full of mixed nuts to shell for the fruit salad and the nut pies. That one carries on. Kids love to shell nuts.
Homemade rolls were a staple and Gin and I both hold to that tradition as well. What is Thanksgiving dinner without homemade rolls. Ah the funniest story of all lies in the homemade rolls but that will have remain untold... regrettably.
The fruit salad Granny used to make remains and though every one of us made it without celery at Dad's request for years, it turns out that Ginny, Mom and I all found ourselves wanting to put it back in last year.
Then there was the pie situation. No amount of reminiscing over Thanksgiving would be complete without reliving the pie drama. Every single person in the family wanted a different kind of pie and some all of their own. Dad wanted a walnut pie and a mince meat pie. Louis wanted an entire pumpkin pie all to himself. Ginny wanted apple pie, Daniel and I wanted pecan pie and Mom wanted coconut cake. We then had to calculate the number of additional guests and divide it so at least 1/3 of a pie had been allocated per person. I believe the record set on this was 14 pies to be divided among 32 people. Yes, the math isn't quite right but I am certain we had 32 people in my parents little house sitting at tables made for anywhere from 2 people to 8.
It's funny how we never took pictures. We didn't even realize we were making memories we might want to relive someday. If I had a picture of Mom, Aunt Bonnie and Aunt Jessie doubled over in laughter, faces flushed from the hot kitchen and tears of hysterical laughter running down their cheeks when Aunt Jessie accidentally put baking soda in the gravy instead of corn starch, it would be a prize. If I had a portrait of Gilberto's face when he tasted a persimmon that wasn't ripe against Dad's advisement, I'd have something to make me laugh on my darkest day. If I had a picture of Gin's consternation when I insisted on dying my hair black (though it turned out gray) and wearing my Native American dress to Thanksgiving dinner, I'd post it on my facebook page every Thanksgiving.
This year, Jody's dad and Marcy will come have Thanksgiving with us. It sounds so small but making Thanksgiving Dinner for seven people is a big deal. It gives me some empathy for Mom. What a wild scene our house was as a kid and I didn't even know it.

Eden is eight...

2010-11-14T01:02:00.002-06:00

Well, actually she has been eight for about three weeks but I never did write my birthday blog for her. I could say what she's done this past year or how she's changed since her seventh birthday but I don't think it would do because in all of the ways that define Eden, she has never changed. She is like the deepest water of the ocean. She doesn't chatter. She doesn't jitter. She isn't domineering or controlling. She's present. She's beautiful. She's vivid. She's profound. She's not tied to convention nor is she fettered with time. She hears your inputs but she has her convictions and if they don't concur, well you're better off trying to move a silent, placid mountain. She speaks sparingly but with depth that usually shocks me at first hearing and makes me want to cry with the retelling. I gather a lanky child in my arms with legs that take up my whole lap, I smooth her satin silk blonde hair that now falls in a cute chunk over one eye (like Ms. Baxter), I look into her beautiful blue wide set eyes with the light sprinkle of freckles on her nose when she speaks and smiles and I hope I always remember that child, the beauty and the simple joy for life. If it makes sense to say, I think Eden is the one who is patient with me. While I beg, cajole and scream for her to conform to this world, she smiles and tries to cooperate with almost a tolerance while knowing I can't understand her big picture. I think she knows my faults and failings better than any other member of the family because I can't see it and I don't always understand her and it physically drains me. She's referred to as "an old soul" by many and I think with good reason.
This year at our parent/teacher conferences, I've no doubt that the teacher thought she would be revealing a great surprise about Eden when she told us that Eden is an extremely bright child and her only struggle was completing tasks in a timely manner. She said with great concern that she might sit for 20 minutes with a paper untouched because she had a question and had never raised her hand for help. Through a series of events I've also discovered that not only has Eden held up the entire drive line at school while stopping in to check on Ms. Baxter in the afternoon, but she has also been tardy for the same reason. Apparently it's very important to her that she visit Ms. Baxter no less than three times per day. I think it's a perfect example of her perspective of the existence of time and how her priorities rank. I rather imagine she pities the world for being so obsessed with time and prioritizing schedules.
A few weeks ago, I asked her if recess had been cold because it was an insanely windy day.
She said "yes but I love to hear the wind. Sometimes when the wind blows, I feel like it's trying to say something to me."
I said "really, what do you think it's saying?"
She said "well, I don't know, I don't speak wind, but maybe it's trying to bring me a message. I bet my sister Michelle loves the wind and she sends me messages. Like it's our own special thing, just the two of us thinking about each other. But all of our family, I mean you and Daddy too."
I told her that was a beautiful idea. It was so sweet and soulful. She's eight years old, sitting there with the fall melancholy we all get, articulating it all so beautifully and making sure she doesn't hurt anyone's feelings to boot. Special, special girl.
And tonight was rather entertaining as well. She told me that she has started a page about Jody in her creative writing book and that she had written that he is great to wrestle with and loves to take her to the arcade. I thought those were great and then she told me that when she's all done she'll write a page about me.
I said "Really? What will you write about me?"
She said " Oh I don't know, that you work really hard and clean up after everyone?"
I raised my brows and nodded, I'm sure I was wincing.
She said "(giggle) and that you like to take us to thrift stores."
I just took them to the Museum of Nature and Science for the day so that was a bit of a blow but I nodded all the same and said "okay."
Then just for good measure she said "and you make really yummy hot cocoa for us when we're cold."
Considering the effort put into hot cocoa compared to the pot roast I made today I had to wonder... if my children really don't care if they eat good food or go to fancy museums and those things really don't impress them... maybe I AM wasting a lot of time like they all say.... ;-)
No, that can't be the case. On her birthday, Eden was so sick with a terrible cold and we offered to get her food anywhere. She told me she wanted a home made cake and home made spaghetti because it was made with love. She got exactly what she asked for.
So Eden, I pray for you that you will follow the will of the Lord. That he will show you great things. That your life will be a testimony to everyone who knows you of Gods unfailing and beautiful love. I pray that the angels will guard and protect you. I thank God for making you so wonderfully with so many amazing skills and attributes that can bring him boundless amounts of glory. And I thank Him for entrusting you to me, so I may enjoy you for this short time.
I don't know how many more springs I'll get to watch you hunt for Easter Eggs, or all of the other wonderful childhood pass times but I can't say that I mourned the passing of Barney or your diapers, so bring on the middle years. Let's see how we do.
That's about all I can say about my amazing #1 girl. I'm so glad God found such a great way to get my life on track. Blessing us with Eden has been a beautiful, joyful ride.
The halloween rock star.

This is me?????

2010-11-12T01:01:00.001-06:00

I just found this old blog I wrote and never published. I was hoping it would slide into when I saved it as a draft in May but it didn't. Ah well, I've messed up the order. Anyhoo, very funny story on Kaity. I'm going to tag another one on here about her playdate tea party. I have also promised myself that I will write a special belated birthday blog for Eden. I can't believe I didn't write one this year and I just noticed it! It'll be forthcoming tomorrow.

This was from May:
When I consider where I came from, I find it nothing short of mind blowing to think that I'm an urbanite with three kids enrolled in soccer, running around volunteering to feed 50 1st graders ice cream and buying and selling furniture willy nilly all the while listening to Kaitlyn's never ending tirades in the back of my mind.
"Mom, Grandma Barry and I have a secret and we're not telling anyone!"
"Okay."
"Okay Mom, it can be a secret with just you and me and Grandma Barry."
"Okay."
"I told her that you and Eden called me a party pooper this morning and she thought that PROBably hurt my feelings."
Long pause.
"Okay."
"I have been having lots of bad days Mom. One day I got a hole in my head and they had to put STAPLES in it, the next Eden hit me on accident, and today I scraped my leg on a ROCK." (I feel the need to insert here that it almost sounds like Kait puts a "g" on the beginning of words starting with "r" so it sounds like "grock".)
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Are you ready to go to Target?"

And this one was from November 9th:
I was invited to an exclusive Kindergarten Rockers preview show today. As I entered the room, I saw child sized chairs in a neat row apparently for spectators to sit in. They were facing the ottoman and couch. The ottoman had been draped with a sheet and Fiona stood in a dramatic pose with her body turned profile. A sparkly cap perched jauntily on her head with short curls peeking out. A little to her left and behind her, in a relaxed pose sat Katelyn R. With the guitar laying against her and a sweep of hair across one eye, she strummed with a faraway look. Behind Fiona, Kaity Kat and Abby stood on the window ledge above the couch. Abby was frozen in a pose with one knee crooked and her fingers forming a sideways v across one eye. Kaity Kat stood with feet planted wide. Her arms were stiffly at her sides and her hands were turned palm flat and her body was stiff. Fiona jumped and turned 90 degrees to face me and began to sing a song she had written this afternoon. "One daaaay, I was sittin lookin out the window, lookin out the window for my friends..." Kaity Kat and Abby started dancing like there was no tomorrow and Katelyn began to hit it on the guitar. I sat stunned. I have not exaggerated a single bit of this.

My Family Tree is a Fig Tree

2010-11-01T16:11:00.002-05:00

Last night, for the first time, I simply thanked God for our house in Minnesota. I could feel those words straight from the Holy Spirit and it felt so comforting. I think I can link it to the small epiphany I had in church yesterday. We were reading Luke 14 but my eyes strayed to Jesus' parable of the Fig Tree in chapter 13. When I read it, I identified with it immediately. Here's the story, then I'll tell you how I related to it.
6 Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree growing in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it but did not find any. 7 So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, ‘For three years now I’ve been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven’t found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?’

8 “‘Sir,’ the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.’”
First, I identified with the fig tree not bearing fruit. Jody and I have known Christ as a couple for our entire marriage and I have known Christ since I learned how to talk. We have not born any fruit of our relationship with the personification of love though. Of all of the things Christ told us to do, from the great commission to feeding the orphans and widows, to Loving the Lord our God with all of our soul, might strength etc.., we really hadn't practiced it. Of all of Paul's admonishments to the early church, Jody and I did not throw ourselves into the work we're all called to do as Christians.
Secondly, I noticed the caretaker did not cut the tree to bear more fruit like the parable of the grape vine. He tilled the soil around it. That is what we have experienced. We've felt very uncertain for the last three or four years but never have we had a piece of us cut off... unless you count Jody's thyroid gland and 50 or so lymph nodes in his neck. We've felt the earth shake and questioned our foundation but our family unit has remained intact. He's provided for our needs and healed Jody's wounds. I figure I should make a list of fertilizers. Maybe your caretaker will use these.
The day we accepted that Jody's uncle would not be paying Jody a paycheck anymore was the first tough blow. It was a very terrifying experience. We had moved to Minnesota in a small non-metro area for a job which had been presented to Jody as a sure thing. We bought the house everyone recommended and presumed life would be stable. Now we realized, our house was worthless and there was no other job to fit Jody's two skill sets within 75 miles of our residence. I can't imagine how it must have felt for Jody. He's the provider for a wife and three children ages five, two and six months. I know I felt it, but he felt it more. He found a job in Boulder and we packed up lock stock and barrel and moved across country the first week of January 2008 to rent a small house sight unseen and rented out our house month to month to a single mom. It was the move from hell. Eden was sick the entire drive. I have tried to block that memory but it actually haunts me.
The next blow came about 6 months later when the housing crisis was coming into full swing and we thought we had sold our house for a loss. I opened a letter. It was a notice that the earnest money check had bounced. We were on our last straw, so we rented it out again. Our life was on pause. There was no way to buy a new house, so we just had to wait.
About three months later, Jody called to tell me he had thyroid cancer. He sounded so empty. I told him to come home immediately. I sat there with that horrible ache in the back of my throat wishing I could cry. I called my sister and best friend, but they didn't answer their phones. I tried to breath, I tried to pray. I kind of cried but it felt more like I was suffocating. I tried to read up on it, and got lost in the stages, the kinds, all of the things I didn't know any answers to. Jody came home and we laid on the couch together. The worst part was just that we didn't understand. The cancer story is so long and was so up and down, not because of Jody's health but because we just never felt like anyone explained anything and we didn't even really know if we should be afraid. His first surgery was in November. He thought it would be easy, in and out. He didn't want extra people in the house. So, the neighbor came over and I drove Jody in to the surgery. The doc made it sound so easy. Three hour surgery tops, overnight stay in the hospital. His thyroid would be gone and he'd take synthroid forever. A bummer but doable. My friend Shawna who I am thankful has a very special relationship with God felt she had to drive down from the mountains to be with me. We sat there forever. I can't remember how long that surgery took but I know it ran at least an hour over but maybe two hours over. I was talking crazy to Shawna and she just nodded and listened. Finally the doctor came out and every question I'd had pent up for the last few weeks came pouring out. He was a surgeon, not an endocrinologist and he had just been through a very harrowing surgery as I later assimilated. He and I did not hit it off. Jody's cancer was much worse than the doc had anticipated and he had spent hours scraping it off of Jody's vocal chords so his speech wouldn't be impaired and selectively removing lymph nodes. He had a particularly hard time working around the parathyroid glands, so Jody had to stay in the hospital an extra day or two because he wasn't producing calcium. He said "I beat them up pretty bad." As it turned out, Jody and I went to the wrong doctor. He did his best, but it wasn't good enough. If you ever need a surgery, do your homework. A month later he had a dose of radioactive iodine. They locked him into a chamber with lead walls, gave him the iodine and slipped his meals through a special little trap door. He said the isolation was terrible but it was worse when he came home and felt like he shouldn't touch anyone because he was so toxic. Then I went with him to the scan. I watched his body image on a big screen light up wherever he had absorbed iodine and felt fear all over me. They hadn't explained what it would look like or what it would mean. We had to wait for the results. It went like that with every step of Jody's cancer. Nothing was ever explained until after the fact. I got to the point of hysteria several times. At each checkup they took Jody's blood. Finally one day, they said it was time for an ultrasound. I asked Jody why and he told me they said it was routine. We'd seen his blood work every time too but it had never been interpreted for us and gave us no idea of what we were about to find out. When they did the ultrasound, they found three masses in the left side of Jody's neck that the first surgeon had missed. I cried and cried. I called Jody's mom and cried. The doctor ordered a PET scan to be sure the cancer wasn't in Jody's lungs which is where it goes if it travels down lymph nodes. I felt like my body was trembling all over 100% of the time. Finally, the week before the PET scan Jody and I fasted together. It was a first for us and we really bonded through it. It brought peace. I came to the realization that my security comes from God, not the presence of my husband or dad or any other person on this earth. The day after the PET scan, the doctor called Jody in to see him. He told us in person that it was all clear. Again, the ground around us had been tilled, but the little fig tree stood. We went to the Mayo Clinic for the next surgery because we trust them, we know they're the best and they are the pioneers of an experimental non-invasive procedure called alcohol ablation. Unfortunately, Jody's tumors were too big, so they did the surgery and it was hard again. I've never been there with someone going through surgery so I had no idea how it knocks a person flat. All the way through I just asked God not to make Jody go through this again. He came out with an incision all the way across his throat curving up almost to his ear. It was huge. Then we got the bill. The insurance company said they weren't going to pay it even though we had called them to be sure it would be covered if we went there. It was $33,000. Jody was angry. He said we should have just gone back to the hack. I argued back that there was no price too high for his health. Still, I did wonder why we'd paid into insurance for all of those years. We went about five rounds with the insurance company and today we got the word that they had finally completely paid their part, about 17 months after the surgery.
This last spring we tried to sell the house again. It sat vacant, for sale, for $20,000 less than we owe on it for 6 months and we never got an offer. Now we have renters again. We're still renting a two bedroom townhome, while we pay $300 more in our mortgage payment than we receive in rent each month.
That is why I say, the earth around my family has been tilled. I'd like to tell you what figs are like even if they said in Rush Hour that it would be our only reward :-) Just this time, we'll use our story to motivate others in lieu of our heavenly reward. Figs look like the faces of my children as they sit in rapt attention at Rush Hour each Sunday. Figs smell like the pages of a Bible. Figs taste like food for hungry neighbors. Figs sound like the praise my children lifted to Jesus when they led praise and worship at church in the Kids Choir. Figs feel like a warm coat for someone who needs it.

Can I really confess?

2010-10-23T00:18:00.001-05:00

Is it even possible to articulate the space between the rapture and mind bending end of my patience with my children? If I found a way to, would you judge me? I can only say yes. Because I'm firmly convinced that nobody else goes through this. I think you all have your ups and downs with your kids but I am sure that I'm the only one seeing stars whether I've just screamed myself dizzy or held my breath too long counting. On the other hand, am I the only one staring in rapt fascination as Kaitlyn forms her expressive mouth into a word, Eden tells me a funny joke or Nick says "amazing" as he stares at something I've baked. No, I'm sure that the happy side and the middle are shared by us all.
This morning I had laid out a set of clothing for Eden, handed her a towel when she got out of the shower and run downstairs to where Kait was in the bath other bath because Eden hates baths and Kaitlyn hates showers. I shampooed, conditioned and brushed Kaits hair, dried her off and procured seasonally appropriate clothing for her. I went back up to the middle floor. Yeah, that's why I have such a girlish figure... or not. I started their lunches, I got cereal bowls out and then asked Eden where she was. There was no reply. I continued, Kaitlyn sat down with her chosen cereal as usual, ready WAY before Eden. I yelled up to Eden that I needed to know what kind of cereal she wanted. No reply. I yelled again after making the peanut butter sandwiches. No reply. How many minutes had transpired... twenty... thirty? I walked up half a flight of stairs and there she was, not a stitch of clothing, hair dripping wet on end with a shirt in her hands. It was not the shirt I had laid out. I felt that vein throbbing in the side of my forehead. She told me she wasn't going to wear that outfit and couldn't find her "skinny" jeans. She brushed past me downstairs and found them folded in a laundry basket. I'll clarify that she turned 8 yesterday. No, she is not 15 or 17 or 18. I did not hold my breath and count! I railed in a most unbecoming fashion. It wasn't patient or kind or understanding and I broke the rule of "don't ask why" that I like to preach. I asked her what she had been doing that WHOLE time up there! When she told me "looking for my skinny jeans" I thought I was going to collapse, I was definitely dizzy. Not because a person should never look for their skinny jeans, but if your jeans are not in the drawer and they're not hanging in the closet, it's time to move on ya know? How does a person spend 20 or possibly 30 minutes looking in the same two spots for a pair of jeans? Eden ate her cereal in about 30 seconds. I swept the other two children out the front door to the car but my phone was ringing and Eden was of course still putting her shoes on and stopped to answer it. (It would be well for all parents of 2 or less children to take note of how easy it is to handle just two children and how impossible it becomes with 3). I buckled Nick, counted to 1! and started screaming again. No response from the house. I marched in, took the phone away and propelled her out to the car, wondering how I will make it another 10 years of this. I just don't think so. It's just not for me. I was good with diapers and burping and all of that jazz, but a diva? No, I cannot handle a diva. THEN, the revelation tonight. It turned out that after struggling against a rash on Eden's face since July of which we have been through hoops over that there had been a transgression. I have banned all things from her face, I have thrown away her toothpaste, I have gotten countless creams, ointments, trips to the doctor and the expensive dermatologist. We've considered food allergy, impetigo, perioral dermatitis, kleenex with lotion... I can't even remember what all we've been through with this, several things multiple times where I would prohibit something and she'd forget or just disobey because she wanted to be glittery etc... and finally, recently I had it almost but not quite gone and then a couple of days ago boom, starts turning red and itching again. I was reading online AGAIN tonight, just going over everything again. Telling Jody this one person had finally beaten the perioral dermatitis by avoiding mouthwash, regular toothpaste, regular shampoo and regular conditioner. I idly mentioned that I had told Eden to cease mouthwash weeks ago and Jody said "no, she was using it last night!" Instantly I felt my mouth go dry, that helpless feeling that no matter how hard I try, Eden will never work with me to make that infernal rash go away. I lost it again. Screaming, railing about her never getting rid of the rash, telling her to go dump out the entire bottle of mouthwash, on and on and on...
In summary, ll I can think is that, God had a special purpose in giving me Eden. Not just because she's a fabulous person and has unlimited potential but because she pushes me in the most indescribable way to the point that I really don't know how to speak clearly let alone think clearly sometimes. How can we get to the point that she's a healthy whole person when she's grown without being damaged by me? How will I empower her to her greatest potential without squashing her spirit? How will I ensure that we can be great friends when she's grown and talk to each other about everything? I think the real kicker is that Nick is so manageable. Kait stresses me a little but Eden has taken me to the edge of my mind since she turned a year old. So these things continue to roll around in my suspiciously warped brain, and they've been confessed now. It will change nothing I suppose. I'll just hope that Eden will read my blog someday and know how much I love her and forgive me, like in that Francine Rivers book I just read. It always turns out happy in the end right?

Today was beautiful in it's own way

2010-10-19T01:15:00.000-05:00

When you're a mother of three and all of the kids are sick, you don't think of it as an opportunity for a great day, but it was. Eden cried while holding her pain ridden head in her hands the second she got out of bed, Nick's fever continued to rocket and plummet, he puked on both of the couches and though it's terrible to say, Kaitlyn was the most positively affected because the cold settled in her throat and her voice was impaired to the point that she did not shatter my eardrum for a whole day.Woohoo! Bonus! Just because I'm a glutton for punishment, I declared no TV for the day to boot. You have now decided that my title and opening comments are sickeningly sarcastic. Aha! You are wrong! Eden and Kait were weak and I'm glad I didn't let them go to school but as the day progressed, they felt better and played a grand total of 10 board games in one day including four hilarious rounds of twister! The girls had the energy but Nick was still just laying near them, so they made him a giant pallet on the floor and rigged a roof over it for him, so being sick would be more sensational, which I loved and thought was terribly sweet. On top of that, Eden started reading a book and became so engrossed, I saw her standing at the kitchen counter on one foot with the other propped on her leg, reading it while she waited for something. It was like looking in the mirror at myself when I was 8. Nick was the sad part of the day because he wasn't on the mend until after 4, so I held him when he asked me to hold him and bathed him when he puked, and washed several loads of laundry and prayed for him because he's such a tiny thing. When Jody got home, Kaitlyn had just spelled doctor with the sandpaper letters missing only the second "o" which I thought was very cool and Nick was begging everyone to play Hungry Hungry Hippos. It was just good in so many ways. I'm a lucky, lucky woman to have the freedom to take care of my kids on a sick day without worrying about all of the things that so many Moms do have to worry about. May God help me always see His blessings, know them for what they are and give Him all of the glory. He so obviously loves my family and me very much.

A bouquet

2010-10-12T23:07:00.000-05:00

Tonight I sit and glance frequently at a bouquet of roses on my dining table. They're a symbol of what Jody and I would love to be able to give to Michelle today. She turned 19. She has reached the age of being allowed to search and find her birth parents if she so desires. Jody has spent months agonizing over what to write to her. I think his greatest fear is that she may somehow feel that she was rejected by him when every selfish part of his being wanted to renig on the whole adoption and keep her. In light of the sacrificial decisions that Jody and Karen had to make and the impact it had on them personally, I believe that Michelle is grateful to them. Not a single night passes that her name doesn't cross my girls lips. Not a day passes that the single photo we have of her isn't perused. I remember the day that Eden smuggled the picture to school and told all of the students and teachers that it was a picture of her sister and her dad had adopted her, in typical backwards kindergarten communication. When she came home I found the picture and she started to vent to me about the teachers pestering her with so many questions about Michelle. Poor dear, didn't even know what an interesting story that would be to a teacher. I remember when the full impact reached her of why she couldn't call Michelle, and as she processed, she asked if we were going to adopt her to another family. I felt my heart squeeze as she made these logical leaps in her mind. It's such a difficult concept for a child to grasp. I spent so much time explaining to them why Michelle had a different family and all the while I wondered if I might be echoing Michelle's own mother through the years as she raised a little red headed angel that she loved more than life itself. Perhaps she would have been able to give me some pointers. Still, the never ceasing burning inside of both Eden and Kait to meet Michelle amazes me. I think they feel her if that's possible. So Michelle, wherever you are, we've prayed for you. Jody for 19 years and me for the 10 years I've known your sweet face. We've prayed for your peace, your joy, your faith and that you could feel not only your own family's love, but ours as well. God willing, maybe someday we will meet and see for ourselves that you've been sheltered in His wing and called according to His purpose.

Whimsy

2010-10-11T23:51:00.000-05:00

I plunked Nick onto the bed after his bath and the towel fell around him. He held his hands up and examined his fingers with a serious concentration. Without even making eye contact with me, he said "my fingers are old..." and then glancing at his feet he said "and my feet are old too." I wonder why it's always such a special interest for me when one of my children exclaims over things that were a particular fascination for me as a child. I feel connected to them, like time doesn't separate our childhoods. That simple purity and happiness.
Kait's favorite question for me these days is "MOM! How many times do I have to tell you?" Her mouth looks like she just sucked on a lemon with a devilish smile curving the edges as she relates her entire 3 hours of school every day. I have a standard line of questions for her. "Did you learn how to spell banana yet? Did you learn how to read a chapter book yet?" and then I just kind of throw in some randoms. She cracks me up. Today she told me there's going to be a new boy in class. I told her in sanctimonious tones that I HOPED she would tell him right away that she's not allowed to have a boyfriend yet, like she had told all of the other boys. She smirked and told me she hadn't had to tell any boys any such thing.
Eden is the enigma. I had been watching her school focus slipping for a couple of weeks and the red marks in the Friday folder seemed to be reflecting her homework attitude. I don't love it, but she has always been one of those children that needs me to metaphorically grab her by the collar and drag her up and go "drill sergeant" every so often. I told her that I was prohibiting any tv during the week and I expected her test results to reflect her abilities, ra ra ra ra. I talked about the difference between people with potential and people with potential and drive. Ra ra ra ra ra. She gave me a winning smile and told me it really didn't matter because she's going to be a rock star when she grows up. Somehow, as I usually do with Eden, I completely forgot I was talking to a second grader. "Do you have any idea what it takes to be a successful rock star? You need a general knowledge of several instruments, you need to know how to read and write music. You have to take voice lessons. You have to be willing to work your heart out! If you want to be a rock star, you are going to have to work for that dream!" Eden stared at me... blink, blink, blink. "Well, I was thinking I'd take over for Hannah Montana if she wants to quit sometime." Can you see my body wilting?
I will say that the papers in the Friday folder were wonderful this past week but I'm not saying that I honestly think anything I did was right. I feel like parenting is just this blindfolded experiment for me. Sometimes I guess things correctly, sometimes... not so much.
Then there's those deep moments with Eden. We were talking about the beautiful scarves Daniel brought from Afghanistan because I saw a woman wearing one. Eden asked me if she was a bad person or a good one. I told her I had no idea and hadn't even thought of that when I saw her, I just wanted to point out that she had a shamash like ours. Eden watched her and said "I don't really care what religion people are, I'll be friends with anyone." It melted me to hear such a natural acceptance of people. I agreed with her and we talked about many different people we know with many different beliefs. I told her that she was smart to understand so early that we should respect people no matter what their religion or creed is but we also need to remember what the difference is between a Christian and people of other beliefs. I gave her a minute and she said "well, we believe in Jesus." and I said "and..." She sat there for a minute and said "they believe in something else." I waited and said "and how does that affect their eternity?" She looked kind of confused so I said, "When we die, we'll go to heaven with Jesus, but someone who denies Him...." She looked rather bleak and said "won't." I felt the great conversation sinking and wanted to lift it back up. I reminded her that is why we're supposed to be a light and salt to all of the earth, so others would want to know Jesus too. She smiled and nodded but I could see the weight. A new responsibility and knowledge of a truth now sat on her shoulders. But that's reality I guess, it seems daunting to me most days too. And if that's her toughest reality, she's a lucky child in this old world full of pain and suffering. One nice thing about Eden, is one conversation about something and it's done. She's got it. So, now we can go to the pumpkin farm, have a birthday party and visit with grandparents without a care in the world other than the lost souls who we must pray for and love without judgment or condemnation.

This message may not be for everyone.

2010-09-20T01:26:00.002-05:00

This Sunday our pastor asked that we write down our testimony. How wicked we were before we knew Christ and then when the change came and then how our lives are now. I'm afraid this is going to be a bit outside of the box but give me credit. At least it's true!
I'm on this spiritual journey that kinda hurts, kinda feels good and kinda worries me that maybe I'll just forget what I've learned and wind up back at square one in a couple of years. I think I spent most of my life taking a bit of pride in being willing to square with a person, take my medicine and dish it out... well, mostly I just dished it out with strict measure whether a person liked it or not. I think this was mostly because people were scared to dish it out to me, not because I didn't need some medicine. Then I'd kind of verge into this super annoying perverse pleasure in making people feel very stupid if at all possible. But that wasn't my strongest suit. My strongest suit was sarcasm and knowitallism. I was the queen. I noticed at my wedding that only my guy friends held on to our friendships despite my acrid personality and actually showed up, one even officiating our ceremony. I have no earthly idea why they came but I have to say it really meant something to me that they all made the effort and shared a table and witnessed my rite of passage with smiles on their faces and happily another girl on their arms! LOL! Well, Gin and Di came but they're relatives and they had to because they were my bridesmaids. Oh, oh! I take it back! My sweet Sarah Hunter came! I love her.
Three years ago in February, my life took a huge turn when Gin had finally had it with me. I'd rocked the boat with basically every other member of the family and they had kinda gotten mad then cut me off for awhile, then just shrugged their shoulders, battered and embittered. But Gin had just had it, Mom and Dad's house had burned down and I was pregnant with a baby that I couldn't decide whether to have at home or "shudder" the Mayo Clinic Hosiptal. I was really crazy. I can't believe I actually contemplated that. I even went there for an appointment and tried to get myself to do it. This is a classic example of exactly how crazy some pregnant women get. Somehow, Jody, the one true constant in my life just held me while I cried through this crazy transition in my life, told me with authority that we were having the baby at home (this is so amazing for him to know me so well and love me so well like he did) This emotional drama lasted for about two months. I mean weeping all day and night. Just walking around with a kleenex to my face bursting into sobs as soon as I drank some water and accumulated some tears. It was that season, the one that people talk about that change their lives. It was like I finally saw myself for who I was and felt what God could be to me in spite of it all. Jody lived it to me and I knew I needed it. I knew I was was a wreck and a horridly mean person to countless people. I can't say I received Christ then because I've always known Christ, he's been there speaking to me my whole life. I've argued with Him, fought Him, loved him, spoken to Him and had Him speak to me. I've wrestled with God on every level. It goes back so far it's almost like he was one of my siblings that I argued with all of the time. I'd make my case, sometimes he'd throw down and give me an ultimatum and I'd take the recommended path or sometimes, I'd say NO, I'm going this way and I mean it! I have specific instances running through my mind but they probably would be a total rabbit trail here. So anyway, there was this breaking point where all of my walls came crashing down. I was alone except for Jody and God. I had my parents but they were going through a major crisis and thankfully I somehow realized that I did not need to be laying all of that on them. I started making a concerted effort to be more thoughtful of the people in my life who really mean something to me and felt remorse when I started fights etc... I was growing, mainly just with Jody and Gin, but it was there. I noticed that with every new relationship I started, I treated people differently than I had when I was younger and that I was careful not to replicate old behaviors but with old relationships it was the hardest. Anway, there was a true awareness of other peoples feelings and my motives in all of my millions of "confrontations" I had started were becoming painfully clear and I was learning the "Spirit of the Law" as my mom has always said. Then the 2008 elections came and I have to say that everything kinda went out the window. Now this is a perfect example of why I'm hoping I've really had an epiphany but kinda fearful that my old stubborn streak will win out (that's the SIN that Cain wrestled with and God so kindly pointed out that he could BEAT it if he TRIED). So yeah, the 2008 elections were very much a struggle, and I have to admit, a weak spot in my character, yes, I guess if anybody wonders if God can love them, they can read this and know that for sure, if that girl lives with the confidence that God will patiently love her through her "ELECTION FEVER", and forgive her for her hot headed, bull headed, stubborn craziness and then forgive her when she repents... then yeah, He really can love me too. Alright, so that little test of my character was, pretty ugly and I probably wrecked my witness to more than one person because I completely cast aside the whole "love motive" thing and somehow thought that I could convince people to agree with me by hysterically screaming at them, on the verge of tears over their blindness... oh ish, I hope this little confession helps some other poor sinner like me and encourages them in that weird reverse sort of way without totally distracting them from the point of this story. So you're seeing my very winding, path here... oh maybe it's "the one less traveled" right? Nah, I don't think so, nice thought contrary corner of brain that presents late at night, but no, it was the easy self indulgent path that likes strife and arguments and creating chaos and division, the one that leads people far far away from God and certainly not to Him. It was that path. So, I slowly worked out of the election cycle and have survived the current president with a small amount of grace... am I giving myself too much credit? Well maybe I'm doing reverse psycology on msyelf. Work with me here. You know you aren't supposed to judge me! And then conflict seemed to come from every corner but I wasn't creating it anymore. I suddenly realized that I was NOT the only person with that disease and they were totally RAINING on my parade every day. Three days ago I actually confided to Gin that I am completely SURE that there is a secret meeting being held. It is the "Betsy hasn't been shit on today" meeting. And they go around entertaining volunteers and let them present their "Shit on Betsy" plan and then select the very best one. So it really hurts, like wow! "That was a CHRISTIAN God!!!!!" And in our usual relationship fashion he looks at me incredulously and says "So are you!" So that's my testimony. I was supposed to share the life changing moment and how it's been such a glory day ever since I gave my heart to Jesus but, well, as you can see, all I've done is a disertation on shit. But I can't think of any other word to describe how it feels when people hurt you and that's my message. I really wish I were just allowed to be eternally happy but the fact is I've hurt alot of people and shit on them, and sometimes I get hurt and shit on too, but I guess that's what Love showers are for. So thanks to my bud Jen for finally talking me into joining a Bible Study for the first time in my adult life and encouraging me to grow, and believing I am a good friend to have and loving me and mostly just not shitting on me. Thanks to Knelly for being such a great friend. And thanks to my parents for the foundation that has held me through many a shit storm in the last three years. Thanks to my sister Gin for being the best sister a girl could have. A huge thanks to my Love for living Jesus for me every day of our marriage, tempering my words when they need tempering and making me happy even on the days I've been shit on. Thanks most of all to Jesus for helping me keep it real and loving me in my wicked state.

Do you believe in magic?

2010-09-13T16:28:00.000-05:00

I do. I believe in God's magic anyway.
I woke up on Sunday morning with the worst vertigo. I looked at the empty spot in the bed where Jody should have been and knew he had drug himself into work to get a project out by a deadline (insert the music with those words "all by myself, don't wanna be... all by myself"). I've had a middle ear infection before but I knew this was from my severe allergies. I've been blowing my nose like a cartoon character lately. I stood in the shower with my entire back pressed against the wall with the world reeling. I had to go pick Eden up from a sleepover. I drug Kait and Nick out to the car and drove with my teeth gritted. We picked Eden up who was incredibly groggy and grouchy from staying up too late. I drove back home to feed everyone some food. I had to focus every step I took, and then Nick had a fit. He shoved his cereal bowl across the table and milk and cheerios slopped out. I told him to "EAT!" so he started grabbing individual cheerios out and throwing them backwards over his shoulder. I transported him to his room to think about his actions and collapsed on the couch. I told Kait I just didn't have it in me to take them to church. She told me that would be fine, she just needed my phone so she could call Daddy because she was sure he would understand and come home and take her to church. I was in full throttle "victim" mode so I told her if she was going to be like that I would take them to church. I went upstairs and retrieved Nick. I made it to the van again by sheer grit while yelling at all of my children for various transgressions. My neighbor Peter was in his yard and cheerfully greeted me. He's a self proclaimed agnostic so I always try to consider it my special job to be "Christs Love" to him. I greeted him with gritted teeth and told him I was going to have to do a lot of repenting for the number of sins I'd committed against my children in my effort to get them to church. He found that quite amusing and made a witty remark, sending me off wondering which of us was living a better example for the other. We were about 15 minutes late for Rush Hour but that's kind of an Allen family tradition so it was cool. I reeled into the building, clung to the chair in front of me and the message was on "responsibility". Well, I knew for sure Eden needed to hear that so I got my chin up. We are not going to open up for examination whether I needed to hear about that myself. Somehow I survived the bobbing happy people on the stage and got all of the children to their classes for the first time in my life. Jody always takes two and leaves me one. I was really missing him. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible while clinging to railings and trying not to think about throwing up. I'd now been trying to function normally for about 3 hours give or take and it was starting to take it's toll. I went past the door where I knew my van was parked and I'd be lying if I didn't confess that running away crossed my mind. I sat down in the sanctuary. I wasn't even bothering to stand when they said stand, clap when they said clap or bow when they said bow. I just sat in the pew with my back pressed against the wood trying to be as still as possible. The sermon was fantastic as usual. I can always count on Pastor Alan to convict me, uplift me and motivate me. We continued to study how to be more Christ like from the gospel of Luke and I had found myself skipping around finding all of these examples of how much God loves me and even the comparison where Jesus asked how much more God must love his children than a parent loves their own. I thought about how much I love Eden, Kait and Nick. Most of my time is spent on them, making their lives as great as I can. Then I think Pastor Alan read "Psalm 37:4 Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart."
Or maybe I just thought about it. Anyway, I was kind of thinking about how to delight myself in the Lord and as we took communion I sat there telling God that I really wanted to bring the girls to Childrens Choir because I want them to have more of His Word hidden in their hearts but I needed him to give me the push he'd given me that morning. Then I thought again about how much He loved me. I told Him that I had no doubt of his ability to heal me of the vertigo and that I would really love to be healed but I needed His help one way or another. I took communion and felt peaceful. Then Jesus did his magic on me and the vertigo went away. I took the kids to Children's Choir and felt so completely happy.

wah wah wah!

2010-09-09T22:00:00.000-05:00

Can I have a wah wah post? Why, yes, of course I can have a wah wah post, this is my blog!
I will say that for the most part, we had a good day and I'm a happy person and I'm not just a big meanie but at about... eh 4PM things kinda started to slide downhill.
Eden has had a rash on her face for two months or more... I took her to the doc before school and she told me to put antibiotic ointment on it. Yep, took my $20. Didn't work, so she said to put cortisone cream on it. Didn't work. Said I had to see a specialist! What? That's all a doctor can do? Suggest that you wander around a pharmacy grabbing random creams and smearing them around on your kids face while the damn rash grows? So today we got our appointment with the specialist and I had to pay $50. She came in, smiled at Eden, told me it was some kind of dermatitis and gave me a prescription. For real? I had to pay $50 for that? How annoying! Then she turns on me and gets this expression of horror and disgust and says "What is going ON with your NOSE?" I took it pretty easily and said, "yeah, I'm starting to wonder the same thing as I look at your giant chart of skin cancer." She quizzed me on the growth of my nose mole and I honestly couldn't give her an informative answer. I have no idea if my mole has changed. It's just not too high on my priority list. I mean I stare at my eyebrows that aren't plucked, not the same ugly old mole that's always been on my nose! She sent me into a tizzy. I said "do you think it's cancer????" She said "well, it certainly needs to be biopsied, it's VERY unusual!" She, of course has no idea what I've been through with cancer lately. I drove home ran straight to Theresa's house and laid on her couch having a fit of hysterics. Well, mainly just hypothesizing the worst case scenario which I equate with hysterics in retrospect. This was completely inappropriate behavior as I am quite sure Theresa has enough on her plate. Meanwhile, the kids are just kind of wandering between her house and mine while I pay very little attention. Finally, either I pulled myself together or Theresa pulled me together and I announced that my brood was going to evacuate and make her home a sanctuary again. I walked up on my porch and the door was locked. Eden told me that Kait had locked it. No problem, I went and hit the garage door opener. I walked into the garage and the door to the house from the garage was locked. I pulled out my keys and low and behold I'd never put it back on the key ring after leaving it with Theresa while we went to Yellowstone. I walked around the side of the house and Kait was trying to open the window to the basement. I uttered some bitter words to her and headed up the stairs to the deck. I grabbed the sliding glass door and it was locked. I looked up at my bedroom window on the third floor and it was open with the curtain fluttering in the breeze. I went down and got the ladder while phoning to Jody to bitterly account to him the situation. I wrestled it up the steps while the new neighbor kindly offered to help in some way. I grouchily told him I was fine and gave Kait another scathing look. I wrestled it up the stairs of the deck and the man decided to just jump over the fence and help me all the same. We wrestled it around on the deck, admitting we should have adjusted it in the yard and not on the tiny deck but we finally got it to a workable height and I scaled it while Theresa stood out on her giant boat dock... I mean deck and made exclamations. I announced that I needed a dinner knife or a flat head screwdriver which she promptly procured and I popped the screen open and crawled through. There was an applause from the deck and I went downstairs and opened the sliding glass door. By this time I was very sweaty and hot. Jody called to ask why I hadn't used the garage door opener... ugh! Re-explained the situation to him and he said he'd be home after 7... triple ugh! I came inside and Mom called. I really did wish she were here to massage me but alas, I still had to torture Eden through her homework and make dinner. I ran back outside and started the grill and ran in circles looking for a part for the food processor so I could slice potatoes for oven fries. I finally gave up and hand chopped them. I found it about 30 minutes later on the filing cabinet. I wish my brain had all of the connections. I hadn't even remembered it being in my possession. Somehow it came together nicely and we had burgers, oven fries and asparagus for dinner. The girls are in bed now but I am having to delete about every third letter because the little guy is torturing me by sneaking over and typing a random letter or number here and there. I'll give him a minute...
et5555ytttttttttttttttttuyo'[sjktjgrmntfhyrfhdyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

September nostalgia

2010-09-06T22:25:00.000-05:00

I really don't think there's anyone who doesn't start to get nostalgic this time of year. You feel the crisp air, you know that another summer has slipped away and somehow you just can't help slipping back to another fall that changed your life or just felt the same in some way. We sat at Golden Ponds feeding the ducks stale bread today and somehow I traveled back to the trailing end of farmers market in Mantorville when we lived in Kasson. The kids played at the park while I junk shopped, got some random preserves or squash from the vendors and let the old ladies oogle Nick in a sling. It was so calm. I always felt so relaxed at that park just like today as I tried to toss my stale bread pieces to the furthest duck and for once just sat and stared at what the ducks looked like instead of my kids. Most of the time I'm watching them to try and memorize their movements, their expressions, their size, their mispronunciations, their new skills or their unaware adorableness. I'm glad I spend most of my time doing that but there is something very relaxing about staring at a ducks face and thinking he has a joker smile or discussing which one everyone thinks is the prettiest. It's just free.
The sermon this week at church was on kindness. He preached from Luke 4 and even read the verse where Jesus tells us to pray for those who hurt you. It hit me deep. I was hurt by someone recently and to be called so specifically to pray for them was good but intense. I walked out of that service with a renewed determination to show kindness to people. I've found several opportunities to show kindness to people who are very different from me which I did purposefully and it seems like I just enjoy being kind to people more when I do it with such purpose but I don't know why.

To laugh or not to laugh... that is the question

2010-08-26T23:13:00.000-05:00

Kait has now crossed the threshold of schooldays. She marched off to school on her first day with very high hopes. Her expectations were higher than her eyebrows and it does seem like her eyebrows are very high most of the time as she raises them for effect when she pronounces each syllable of a word. That's only about 70% of the time but it's not what this blog is about.
So, Kait had her assessment the third day of school and came out exclaiming that she thought she did very well and that she liked her new teachers. A couple of days later she told me that she had learned something very important about math during her assessment. I showed the proper interest and she continued while KLOVE blared in the background and I'm sorry to say I temporarily tuned out but came back with a snap when she said "and that's what it means to 'predict', so now I know what the word 'predict' means.
On Monday the kids had the day off and I was out of whole milk so I asked if they'd like me to make some oatmeal and eggs. Kait replied "well, I'd rather have pancakes... that is IF you know how..."
I tried not to smile and said "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that."
She got quite a bit of mirth out of that and smiled rather triumphantly.
I asked if she thought they'd like to have the oatmeal pancakes I occasionally make and she said "well, not really... you see... those don't really.... um... agree with my taste buds." (while tapping her tongue with her finger for emphasis)
Alright so she won that round, and got her pancakes but never told me if they were up to snuff with the holy grail of Daddy's pancakes.
Now, yesterday she got home from school and had been here for a bit and then said "Mom, I need to talk to you about something." I said "really?" She nodded and said "I am disappointed with Flagstaff Academy." I nodded and said "why?" She said "well, I thought it was going to be harder but it's not, and they made me sit and color for 30 minutes. It's just too boring." I told her I'd let Ms. Millane know she wanted harder work (just humoring her, I mean they have to do a lot of boring remedial stuff for the first few weeks of school.) She had similar conversations with every member of our family before the night was over, the last one to her Daddy ended with a bit of moisture in her eyes. Her "school honeymoon" had already ended. Today she got in the car and immediately said "Mom, do you have Mrs. Millane's phone number? I want you to call her and tell her that school is not hard enough." I pulled forward and waved Mrs. Millane over. She came over and I reiterated everything to her within Kait's hearing. She smiled and she reassured Kait that it would get harder. Kait oversaw this with her eyebrows raised, I suppose to show us the gravity of the situation. When we got home she told me we had better go downstairs and find some hard school work for her to do. And she did. LOL!
And finally, there's that bit about finding it necessary to use five syllable words in most sentences as Poppy put it. Sunday, Kait told Jody that she didn't know the names of the children in her class at church. He said, "well, their names are right on their shirts." Her voice got an edge and she said "well Dad, I can't just read their names immediately, like you can."
Ah, Kaity Kat. Someday, I will cry with laughter when I read this again and I'll hug you and be so glad I know you. You three are the biggest stress reliever a Mom could ever have. With you guys around I don't have to find things to laugh about, rather it seems I'm always trying to not.

When will she be baptized?

2010-08-21T22:41:00.003-05:00

So tonight we had a wonderful night. My friends Jen and Dan left their kids with us for the day while they did the most hair raising race up Copper Mountain I've ever heard of. It included crawling under barbed wire through pits of mud, jumping over fire pits and crawling up and down piles of hay bales. Very entertaining in the retelling but it's not my story. After the race, they showed up with Mexican takeout from a great little restaurant in Erie and I made margaritas. We had a great night.
When the party was over, I'd had two margartias and Eden was missing the stone from one of her opal earrings. I decided to show them the special item from my jewelry box that had somehow survived for 26 of my 30 years. I showed them the ring my dear Granny gave me when I was four. I told them of how it was lost and then found again in the emergency room after my arm was broken when I was twelve. Then I showed them the charm from my first Mothers Day and told them it had at one time been lost for two years only to be found in the final clean out of the Durango before we sold it. Eden and I had a great connection through these stories and she felt more hopeful about finding the opal but then I showed them the single earring from the pair Jody had bought for me to match the ring they've seen me wear every day their entire lives. It devastated Eden but it showed her that sometimes thing turn out well, but sometimes you deal with disappointment.
Somehow, despite my slightly impaired state, the subject turned to my faith. And in a rare and completely open moment Eden said "Mom, part of me wants to get baptized but part of me doesn't." I said "I am so glad you told me that! I want to know when the day comes that you completely believe that Jesus died on the cross for your sins. When you know that and you are completely sure, you'll be ready to get baptized. It's kind of like when you get married, you put your hand in the hand of a man and you promise that you will love him for the rest of your life and you'll never deny it to anyone. When you are ready to put your hand into Jesus' and make that promise Him, you'll be ready to be baptized." She looked at me with a dead serious stare and said "Mom, when you say it that way, I think I do believe it. But how are you sure that the Bible is the oldest book in the world? Have you read all of the old books to be sure?" I felt like I had just been hit between the eyes. I thought "okay, why did I think tonight was the night to drink two margaritas? How did I not consider that tonight might be the night that Eden reaches out to me for true faith and expect exceptional answers?" I looked into her luminous eyes and I said, "Eden, I have read old books, and yes I am sure the Bible is the oldest and I have just read alot of books in general, but do you know what? I'm going to find out what the oldest books are and be sure we find out all about them." She smiled with her pure simple confidence in me and said "what if they found a really old Bible? Wouldn't that be cool?" I said, "do you know what they did find?" She said "what?" I said "they found the dead sea scrolls, and they were written on papyrus" (I thought her eyes were going to pop out her head) and do you know what they found?" "What?" They found that the words on these ancient scrolls were the same as the Bible ours is translated from today. The words are verbatim, exactly the same!" I saw joy spring into her eyes and I knew, she isn't easy, she won't just believe what a person tells her to, but Eden will find her way to the truth and she'll have an unshakable foundation. So, to anyone wondering, no Eden won't get baptized this Sunday, but I'm pretty sure that when she does, she'll mean it with her heart, soul and mind. She has the most analytical mind I could ever imagine and she's amazing, simply amazing and wonderful.
And to anyone wondering about my emotional state, I cried several times tonight. The girls gave me several kleenexes and even took my glasses away at one point which was really a struggle because Kait temporarily lost one of the pieces of jewelry I was using as an example. LOL!

2010-08-15

2010-08-18T11:09:00.000-05:00

The Circuitous Path

2010-08-06T14:18:00.001-05:00

As I turned onto our street, my eyes were glued to the 100 inch long sofa in the back of the truck. The rope had slipped down to the legs and each small bump was giving me a jump. Suddenly the bump of my life hit and I realized that I had hit a large curb with the van and shot the front tire. I oozed the car over to the curb and got out and walked home. My shoulders slumped and I trudged up the driveway to make my confession to Jody. He didn't say much which made me want to kick myself or put an icepick through my hand, I wasn't sure which. We headed up the street and he looked at the tire. We went back down the street to grab the jack and all of the kids. I looked at the couches I'd just purchased to hopefully net $300 profit. "Well, I wish I hadn't bought those couches" I said. He looked up surprised and asked me why. I rambled on about how if I hadn't bought the couches I wouldn't have popped the tire and blah blah blah. He still didn't say much and was about to go in the house. He paused and looked back at me with a twinkle in his eye and said "well, I don't think we'll be able to salvage the tire!". My eyes almost bugged completely out of my head. "Well, of course not, the side wall is shredded Jody!" He gave a chuckle and said "oh they were just about shot anyway!" And then I really did want to put an icepick through my hand just because I was sure I didn't deserve a husband like that.
I spent the next three days mulling over what we should do. Should we get two new tires, one new tire, four used wheels with tires so we could switch winter tires easier or just used tires in general? On Monday Jody and I hunted through Craigslist and I called every tire dealer in Longmont and Boulder. While on the phone with a tire dealer I realized that the rear tire had a huge bubble and was about to pop. I guess I grazed the curb with it too. UGH. We decided to buy four used tires from a guy down in Centennial for $100. I drove down during rush hour, threw them in the truck and flew up to Erie for Kaitlyn's meet the class party. It was easily 3 hours spent in the car and $20 or more for gas. I got them home and Jody pointed out that one was bald and the others weren't in the greatest shape. I beat myself up about that for awhile and then went to bed. The next day we took the tires over to Discount Tire and I asked a nice guy named Josh to please pick out the four best tires and put them on the van. He went back and forth examining and finally stood in front of me with an apologetic expression. "Ma'am, those tires aren't going to fit your van." All of the air rushed out of me. I said "they're 16s aren't they?" He nodded silently. "My husband is going to KILL me for not double checking the size" I knew it was a lie because Jody is a saint and for some reason he loves me in spite of every idiotic thing I do and he'll still just pull me in for a hug and tell me he loves my legs or that I'm cute in those pants. The nice tire guy said "did you buy these here or did they come on your van?" I said "my husband bought them here" rather miserably and without expectation. He said "can I check the mileage? We might be able to work something out." I figured best case scenario, this was going to be a $10 discount on new tires or something but hey, I wasn't going to dick around anymore, it was time for me to lay down some cold, hard, nonexistent cash. He held the door open for my ragtag crew and I stood at the counter while all three children sat on high stools swiveling themselves around at dizzying speeds and Josh typed and typed. Finally he looked up at me and smiled "Ma'am, I can put two new tires on your van for $48. The room tilted and for a second I swear I was going to hug him... then I briefly considered telling him that I would hug him if I wasn't so sweaty... then I just said "you're kidding me." He shook his head and said "your husband got road hazard and they're fully covered. You just have to pay to renew the hazard and $15 per tire to have them mounted. You think that'll make him happy?" Here he was actually thinking I had a mean husband. LOL! I guess it served me well to make Jody out as a monster. I nodded and blinked. I said, "so are they the same tires?" He said, "well, actually you had 50,000 mile tires and we're going to put 85,000 mile tires on because that's what we have on hand." I thanked him several times and left.
I called the craigslist man in Centennial and he agreed to take the tires back because he had sold them to me as 17s and they were 16s. I just had to drive back to Centennial.
I told Jody later that it seems some people take direct routes to accomplish things and some people like me, consistently take the longest hardest path possible to accomplish basically the same thing. Rather like the process of identifying Jody's cancer and removing it. Did it really need to take 12+ years? Perhaps that's why it's so hard to sell our house. Once we have completed our very long and arduous route, we'll arrive at basically the same conclusion as everyone else. And maybe, if nothing else, we'll appreciate the result more than someone who put their house on the market and sold it in one week. I can't say that I can see a greater benefit from the long hard route, but it's a life. Maybe the lesson is patience. Patience is, after all, a virtue. And I can't think of a single person who's ever said "Jody and Elizabeth are the most patient people I know".

Living in the now.

2010-07-01T23:38:00.000-05:00

The other day I was talked into taking all three of my children to the BMX track in the pouring heat (mid 90's) without Jody. When we arrived Nick examined the track with nothing short of delight. He ran to the top of the nearest hill and shouted some gibberish including the words "bike" and "down" while gesturing at me and his strider (which is still too large for him) I smiled and scaled the hill in my Chaco sandals with the strider in hand. When I got to the top and looked down I said "well, buddy, I really don't think we should do this, it looks way too big for you..." He smiled at me again with that winsome grin and said "but zoom zoom Mommy, zoom zoom!" In a moment of foolish parenting I turned to mush and acquiesced. We began hurdling down the hill and I tried to put my sandals into a skid which seemed to work more like a slide and then one of us lost control. We went something over teakettle and well, it was a very dusty and humiliating experience. I still have a wound on my hand that got infected at one point and Nick makes a point of kissing practically every day. What really put me over the top was when Jody's friend Tony casually mentioned to me that maybe we'd be better off on the little kid course on the other side of the BMX track. Yes, that's right. He watched us hurdle to what could have been my child's ultimate demise knowing full well that there was a much wiser alternative a stones throw away. I have not quite forgiven him yet.
We dropped the price on the Kasson house and aren't very hopeful. It's disappointing to see something you loved and invested so much time, money and energy into losing value every time you inhale or exhale but we've reached the point of not caring. No matter how low we have to go, we'll do it now. It took alot of time to get to this point, but we've reached it, so hopefully it'll be a blessing to someone else.
At last checkup a couple of months ago, Jody's cancer appears to be well in check. I suppose that Dr. Grant, who I can't help but have a little crush on, did a fantastic job even if the insurance company disagreed. We've been back and forth with them about four times now. They've haltingly paid a little more each time. Here's hoping that now, a year after Jody's successful surgery we'll at least get that resolved.
Gin will be here in a few days and I truly hope to make the time to blog while she's here and document some more wonderful childhood memories her trips afford our kids. A camping trip to Yellowstone is in the works this time. I can only imagine the great memories for the cousins to share.
Eden and I just watched Cary Grant's last movie "Walk, Don't Run." It was a very good film.
So, after spending three straight days painting at least 14 hours each day, I finished painting my entry and living room. It was grueling and with out sheer determination and little people constantly bragging on my work, I'm sure I would have thrown my paintbrush at a light fixture and gone to the pool but I am SO glad it's done. It's inspired me to do some decorating which I used to love and basically just put on hold after leaving Kasson. When I look at the pictures I took when we were trying to sell that home, I see the care I took with the placement of each item there. When I look around here, I'm starting to see it again.

A Happy Father's Day

2010-06-21T00:19:00.000-05:00

Friday Jody got home from a very long week of work. I guess he worked around 60 hours while I sat and mulled over which park to hit, whether I should have a second Corona at Jen's house or how I was going to summon the energy to hit the pool again. He got out of the truck with a six pack of Mikes Margarita's for me and a heart melting smile on his face. I mean, can I be any more spoiled? I was supposed to have dinner made and a beer in hand for him after a week like that! Anyway, we rushed him in the house to open his present from us and examine his handmade cards. Why I didn't photo any of this is now beyond me and why I have not a single photo of Jody with the kids for Father's day is another unforgivable faux pas. Everything we got him fit perfectly, a major coup for me! I never seem to get just the right thing! Then we chilled for the rest of the evening and Jody and the girls went and picked up QDoba for dinner. The next day we packed up way too much stuff and headed up to Wind River Ranch in Estes Park for the night. Jody had some work to do up there (surprise, surprise!)We went swimming which was such a hoot with Nick. I put this life jacket on him and he just swam around all proud and giddy. Hilarious. Eden mastered swimming on her back across the pool. Kaitlyn just ran around worried that she was too hot in the hot tub and too cold in the pool and finally deciding she should just supervise. Jody eventually chased us all back to the cabin which due to some confusion didn't have sheets and towels yet. I jumped into some clothes and it wasn't a moment too soon because a breath later three men were in our room with us trying to insist on making our bed for us while I washed my makeup off in the sink. I shook hands blindly because I hadn't found my glasses yet and was trying not to be rude. I don't know how I managed to keep the giggles at bay during this serious discussion but we did manage to get all of those men out without them making our beds for us. I think that if I had let them do it, I'd have to have been allowed to video tape it for America's Funniest Home Videos. Especially the tall guy with the handlebar mustache and straw hat. We meandered around the ranch on Father's Day morning while Jody worked (of course, see the pattern here?) the kids fed the horses, we inspected the work Jody was doing, we played on the playground, pretended in the ghost town clapboard building thingy and had a good time. We finished things off with another trip to the pool and then headed back down to Longmont. I got rib eyes, corn on the cob, grilling veggies and some fresh bread and we made what Jody thought was the best dinner in months. We polished the night off with raspberry milkshakes. That was our Father's Day and I think it might be one of the best!
A few funny moments I'd like to document for laughter later.
Eden: Kaitlyn, have you ever kissed a toad?
Kaitlyn: Nooooo...
Eden: I have.
Kaitlyn: Did it turn into a prince?
Eden: Well, no but it was really funny, he was just sitting there staring at me and I held him like this and kissed him. (giggle giggle)

Nick has ratted all over the Wind River Ranch and he stands surveying a wooded area. He says "Mommy, the bears are through that jungle."

Kaitlyn sits staring at Karhys in the bouncy seat with the vibrator on. Her assessment "I think it feels to her like she's going up into outer space".

She also found it so interesting that Karhys liked the quilt on the wall that she asked Hannah if she thought it reminded Karhys of something she had at home.

One more on her, we are trying to watch something on TV and her terrible Handy Manny music on the computer with the computer game is so loud, we beg her to turn it off. She casually goes to the volume settings and turns it off. How many barely 5 year olds can do that? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's fairly common but I guess it doesn't matter when something becomes an accomplishment for a child, it's still just as amazing.

Mundane

2010-05-19T02:01:00.003-05:00

Maybe this will go down like a good Lawrence story. I'll just start typing and realize I have a very entertaining life and think of some amazing moments to share. It really doesn't matter what I write, so long as I get the drug of having written. I've had a mommy night. I watched two episodes of "Parenthood" and the season finale of "House" while continuing to fold the 8 loads of laundry I had procrastinated. Jody came down to tell me good night. I wrapped my toes around him and just smiled into his eyes, knowing he's the only one who can make me feel like a school girl. Then I had to blog. I could stay up all night on nights like this. Loving my life and thinking about the greatness of God, people, flowers, chocolate and the internet.
Eden's Grandpa Barry got her a book, eh, two years ago. It's "The Adventures of Frog and Toad." Suddenly she loves to read it. It's the first book that Eden reads just for the fun of reading. I find her piled up reading it and chuckling her way through it. It's a breakthrough. There is no magic like watching my girl with a book open as her eyes slide from left to right and expressions play across her face. First grade has been a real journey for us. Eden's understanding of the purpose of school started a little differently than my brain could process. She began the year with a little folder to put "incomplete papers" in. Well, she just considered it a great place for things she never got around to finishing. Naturally, it all came home to roost with her homework. Ms. Baxter had no alternative but to send home the biggest pile of half finished junk you've ever seen. This kind of halfway (I'm using a nice term here, take note people!) approach lasted until the first parent teacher conference. Ms. Baxter (the Great) told Jody that Eden was lagging in basically every subject. We had a come to Jesus meeting the next night and a rare level of communication was achieved. I said "Eden, did you know that you actually need to do well in 1st grade in order to move on to 2nd grade with your friends?" My daughter had no idea. I just have to say I felt like I was talking to a marshan because when I was in school, if someone had told me I was going to have to settle for being less than "smartest kid in the class" I might as well have been told to wear a dunce cap. She really thought she was going to school for story hour and braiding her friends hair. I shared this with my mother who instantly identified with Eden. I found it astounding because she was valedictorian of her class. She told me she never even tried in school until junior high when a teacher expected more of her. Great, so I got a mini Mom.... not only was this exasperating but shocking. She drove me crazy as a kid, always slashing red marks all over my writing and now here she was admitting she was a half hazard student herself. I almost wish she'd never tell me any more true stories. They're too overwhelming of a contrast against the mother/teacher I remember. At any rate, we started incentivizing progress and Eden jumped in and started putting her nose to the grindstone. Still, reading was such a struggle. We slugged our way through the required 30 minutes of reading each night, thinking the day that Eden would ever read for the joy of it was a la la dream. Now, we've had the breakthrough and made a trip to the bookstore for another Frog and Toad book and a horse book and a pony book. This is a landmark moment for us, because I always get books from thrift stores and the book sale at the library but I feel like I have this hairline opening and I don't want to screw it up with another dry history book on the Founding Fathers, a random chapter book way too advanced for her or Junie B. Jones (the worst kids books ever). She read all afternoon. Amazing. For this, I tip my hat to Ms. Baxter and all of the teachers at Flagstaff who have worked with Eden. Anyone who knows us both well, knows that Eden is marvelous, no fantastic but she can say or do just about anything school related in such a way that it will drive me insane with frustration. By the same token, I can say just about anything in such a way that will automatically lock Eden up and put her into "non-learning" mode. If a person wants to see me cringe, just tell me I should homeschool her. OMG!!!!!!! So, it's been a year of huge accomplishment. She's on the right track. It's just a load off of my shoulders. I am so thankful, so glad, so happy and I'm really anticipating summer. It's going to be a blast. I just know it.

Mother's Day

2010-05-09T23:01:00.000-05:00

When I became a mother, it had little meaning beyond the moment. I didn't analyze much beyond what it would be like when she said "momma" the first time or how exciting it would be when she rolled over. I didn't know how tough it would be and I certainly didn't think about school. Whew. I've made it about seven years now. It's up and down and over and under. Sometimes I don't know how I can take it. Sometimes I know I'm not hacking it. Sometimes I float as I bask in a smile. Sometimes I just survive. Sometimes I thrive. Sometimes I know I'm doing well but sometimes I know I'm not. It's easy to feel kind of abused when you have three kids. They're just clammoring for more of you and fighting for the lap so I can be their furniture. It doesn't seem to possibly matter what I want to offer them, they'd rather have something else. And yet, in those special moments, I feel that love where they want to show me. Today Kait was cleaning up the living room so it would be clean when I came downstairs for breakfast. She came up the stairs huffing and puffing with a huge armload of books. You know, I'm the only one who ever huffs and puffs up the stairs with armloads of books, so that meant something to me. I thanked her and she said "Well, Eden won't even help me, she's just laying down there in the floor pretending to be crucified on the cross." For real, it's hilarious to hear Kaitlyn's little chirpy voice say the word "crucified". I think about that now and wonder how I can be such a martyr about being a mother, but I often am. The work definitley pulls me down when I lose track of the blessings and the joys that God gave me here on this earth. I am blessed. I have a charming redhead lover, three blonde beauties and a life most could only dream of. And so, I thank you God, for the beautiful Mother's Day with homemade waffles, three beautiful children marching off to church, flowers everywhere and pots to put them in, the sun in the back yard and the neighbors to share dinner with. I am blessed... and now I shall go sleep in that wonderful bed. If only I'd gotten a picture.

And then she was 5

2010-05-04T23:17:00.000-05:00

Every birthday my kids have, I have to reminisce about the day they were born. I remind Kait that she flew out of me like a flash. I tell her that she screamed like a mad woman as soon as they placed her in my arms and she hasn't turned off the vocal chords since (which I don't say).I picture her first bath, her smiles within the first week of her life. Her dimpled smile on the swingset in Kasson. Marveling as she scooted across the floor like an inchworm at Christmas time. Laughing as she stood by the leapfrog table covered in chocolate as Eden's words of "Mom she likes chocolate!" finally sank in. I don't remember her first steps but it doesn't really bother me because I do remember so many things. My 18 month old held her sole diet of blueberries in her hand and said "look, I got seven!" Coincidentally, she did! Watching her learn to ride a trike Grandpa brought her on her second birthday. Taking away her binky shortly after her second birthday explaining that we needed it for the baby. She stuck it in my belly button and asked the baby if it liked it. Then, her face as she welcomed her baby brother into the world in her old bedroom. After we moved to Longmont I remember her loving the trampoline I picked up but only if everyone jumped the way she told them to. I've loved teaching her to read, to count, geography... everything. She's my sponge. Spouting out all of the things I don't want repeated! The stories she can weave, the dreams she can concoct. If one person had to bear the load of things in Kait's brain bursting to come out, it would be mind bending. She spends hours every week on the phone and skype. Even my whole family can't bear the words. People asked me what to give Kait for her birthday this year and I was dumbfounded. What do you give to someone who just talks nonstop all day every day? Today she asked me to identify whether things were man made or nature all the way across town. She's ceaseless and none of it seems to be connected or remotely predictable. Well, I love you little girl and I hope you love these little reminscing blogs when you're older and wonder what we saw.

Olive My Love

2010-04-28T11:23:00.000-05:00

If you have children and haven't read them that book, you must. I just love that book.
I guess I'm kind of a hopeless romantic and I'm sure it comes from my Dad's side of the family. Apparently Granny was wooed by Poppy in the most outlandish way but I can't possibly retell the story because I'd mess up the details. Something to do with him coming to her place of work every day and sitting like an Indian until she agreed to go out with him. By the same token my dad told my mom to either change her phone number or to tell him to go fly a kite and that was his proposal. I remember him singing her the song he had written for her and loving the romantic qualities in him. So, it only makes sense that I spent my entire childhood and teenage years concocting the most elaborate scenarios in my head of how I would meet the man I'd fall in love with and what a hopeless romantic he would be. Instead I got the most classic beginnings of all. I sat at the front desk of Carroll & Lang, answering calls and transferring them to the appropriate people when the door swung open and a redhead in a blue oxford with a roll plans under his arm walked in. That's it. It happened a thousand times while I worked at Carroll & Lange, but that's the one that mattered. Now, eleven years later, I don't think I could have made a better choice than asking him to go to a hockey game with me. He's really "the one." I always joke that no other man would have stayed married to me or avoided the dread "cast iron skillet" like Jody. I joke, but at the same time, I really mean it. I'm pretty rough around the edges and Jody really takes that edge off. I remember every guy I ever kinda liked and think about how bad I set them off with my razor tounge... I even slapped one of em... eeek. For sure, Jody's the only one who has ever taken the fight out of me. Completely. No matter how mad I get about silly little things (because I'm a firecracker)I just can't quite be mean to him. If we've ever had a rocky time, it was because one of us didn't do enough to show love or appreciation, but I'm happy to say that in eleven years knowing Jody, I don't have those piercing memories of striking out at him like I do with every other person I've known for any length of time. As a matter of fact, he's quite possibly the only person that really gets me. When I talk about something, he's so much a part of me that he instantly articulates my feelings to me which tells me he really feels what I feel. It's like magic to me. He's my perfect match and I never live a day in doubt of it or wishing for a different life. The only thing we get crosswise on is adoption... I really want a black baby and he just won't cooperate. Maybe that's the thing that will make our adoption story so great someday. LOL!
Yep, last night marked eight great years since our wedding on the bluff. I made him his favorite homemade pizza and laid on the couch with my feet in his lap getting an exquisite foot massage while he watched a hockey playoff game. Well, except when the game got intense... then there were long pauses in the massage but thats what made it a Jody massage. :-)
So, to my friends in search of the perfect match, that's what it looks like. I guess it's not Hugh Jackman jumping on a horse and hunting down my purse snatcher after all. And as for hopeless romantic...Jody beats the movies to pieces... I just have to get these kids shipped off to college so we can resume our hollywood romance of tealight candles, chocolate covered strawberries, bubble bath and champagne. Well... maybe we'll start with getting our own bedroom soon. :-)

Time has different speeds... I'm sure of it.

2010-04-20T13:51:00.004-05:00

I'm sure it does. The hours on the road to meet my new niece were so long. I drove until my bum was numb. I envisioned her, I imagined what it would be like if Daniel were there. I pictured Hannah with her in her arms. Finally, I stopped at Subway at 10:30 because I hadn't eaten dinner and my stomach was in knots. My phone rang and my heart plummmeted. All through the day I had been the one calling. Nobody had called me. It was Elisabeth calling to tell me that little Karhys had made an appearance at 10:22. I still had two more hours of driving. Ah well. It brought to mind the phrase "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans." I spoke to Mom and Dad. I felt like I'd let Daniel down a bit. I'd promised to be the presence for the birth of the first Herbert in 23 years. Mom told me that it would all work out perfectly and I'd get some very special alone time with the wee mite. When I got to the maternity floor of the hospital I realized that it was the first time I'd been to a hospital for the birth of a relative since Daniel himself was born. I remember a nurse holding a screaming red child and telling me (I was 7) that he was my brother. He was huge, 11 lbs 5 oz, screaming belligerently and quite terrifying to me. I remember being allowed to hold him when they came home and he wasn't so red when he wasn't screaming. Ahhh memories. Now he's a daddy fighting for us in Afganistan. As we turned the corner, Elisabeth (Hannah's sister) and Elizabeth (Hannah's other sister in law) saw a nurse wheeling a baby forward and broke into smiles announcing that here she was and had just gone for her security photos. I walked up to the little girl and felt tears welling up, knowing that Daniel still hadn't held this little mite and wouldn't for months. She was beautiful. I suppose that everyone says that. They call every baby beautiful and I respect that, but truely, this girl has a claim to beauty in her own right. I felt a shock that she had dark hair. Daniel and Hannah are so fair, I had expected a little nondescript downy patch on her head like all of mine. As I took in the curve of her top lip and her well formed nose, I saw Hannah very clearly. I wanted to see a bit of my baby brother and I know that features will come out in time that I can pick out as his, but on that first day I only saw Hannah. Hannah excitedly recounted the speed with which her labor had passed just like her momma. I cast glances at my little brother pulled up on skype who I was seeing for the first time since December. I was so happy and relieved for the new mommy. She'd been up for 36 hours and the longer it took, the more tired she would have been for the pushing. I wanted to take care of her but I knew it wasn't my job or place. It made me sad that I had known nothing about birth when Ginny had babies because I could have taken care of her. I tried to be at Ethans birth but he had been a recalcitrant baby coming 10 days late, long after my flight home to Colorado. It was a piercing disappointment and it comes back to me now. I stayed with Hannahs family for the night and two of her sisters slept by her in Daniel's place. When I came back in the morning, Hannah was awake and so happy and radiant. Her sisters were exhausted sleeping on a chair and a cot. Daniel should have been on that cot but I tried not to dwell on it. Daniel was on skype again. I think those love birds would sleep by that video chat if they could. He watched his baby girl while she slept and we all talked of inconsequential things. Hannah agreed to let me hold my niece and I pulled her into my arms and unwrapped her little feet and hands and tummy and legs. I played with her toes and marveled at her perfection, wishing Daniel could feel newborn skin. She was practically comatose after the exhausting work of being born. I suppose I spent nearly an hour with her but of course it felt much shorter than a sixth of my drive. I kissed her, marveled at her round cheeks, touched her perfect nose and wished she'd be this wonderful little caterpillar when I next saw her but I knew, she would be already metamorphasizing. No longer will her little knees be pulled up to her chest when I next see her, the swaddling will be gone and she'll be stretched out rolling around in a whole new and adorable phase. Back home, my own wonderful family was waiting and calling me with frequency. By noon I was aware of the fact that Hannah had so many people in her life, I was only cluttering the place up. Her mom was helping her with breastfeeding, her sisters were fetching her needs and I felt welcome but the sheer number of people must have been suffocating for the new mommy. I believe there were 10 adults and four children in the hospital room at one point. Her wonderful brother Ben helped me unload the baby things I brought and it was time for me to leave. I wish I could say I had been a valuable presence in some way, contributing to her and not just taking time with my new family member, but alas, I was rather useless aside from some pictures I took. Here's the new girl! The one we welcomed on Friday night! This is why we live. For these miracle moments when we see the power of God to create a human for us to love, nurture and enjoy!

Time to count my treasures

2010-03-29T12:40:00.004-05:00

That's what I love about my blog... when good stuff happens, I want to blog it, when bad stuff happens I want to blog it. It doesn't seem to matter how I feel, I want to blog it.
Today I got up, it's the first day of Eden's spring break. What a lovely feeling to have my eyes open at 8:30 and turn over and see Nick laying in his bed smiling over at me. It's so funny how everyone pities me because we're in such a small place that Nick shares a bedroom with us when I find it to be the sweetest thing in the world about9 90% of the time. He's a very special little man. Anyway, I came downstairs, started tea and checked my email. There were two relevant emails. One was from our renter time stamped 7:24 and one was from Jody time stamped 7:29. I looked at the titles. The renters said "notice of intent to end lease" Jody's said "Hey". I clicked on Jody's and found the sweetest love note he's sent me in months. It was exactly what I needed. I moved on to the renters email and found myself devoid of emotion or impulse. It was as though God were telling me that I do have what's important in life. I have Jody. He writes me love notes after 8 fantastic years of marriage. We have our great children and no matter how much I stress about that house, it won't change the situation or the fact that I have a simply wonderful life. I went to the brink when Jody got cancer, I know everyone says that it's not a bad kind of cancer and it won't kill him, yadda yadda yadda. The bottom line is, it was not just the run of the mill thyroid cancer, it was all over the place and it took me to the edge. I looked at what a future without him would look like and I realized what a great thing we have going. Forget about the penniless state, the renter status, the medical bills, the house in Kasson that I want to curse but know I shouldn't. Forget about everything except that I have a husband that comes home and wraps his arms around me and loves me wholly. We don't have all of that junk that other people do. I don't know why we're so fortunate or why we'll never break each others hearts but we got that. We got that magical little piece that holds an entire life together. My kids could someday lose a parent, but they'll never lose their family or the security of knowing it's whole. We might not be able to buy a house for years, or a trip to Disney in their whole childhoods but they do have the important pieces that make good people who contribute to society in a postive way.
The day of countless treasures doesn't stop there. When I got downstairs I had also missed a call from Gin. I called her back and my dear sister of thirty years was on cloud nine. Why? Because of something I had shared with her. I shared my Dave Ramsey course with her two years ago as I paid off every last stinking credit card, Gin aborbed it, grabbed it and ran with it. She was calling to announce to me that she and Brad had saved more than enough money for their property taxes for the year and for the first time in years their tax refund was not going to pay off credit cards. It was just their money to spend as they chose. Brad told her he's officially done with credit cards. Wow, what a blessing to me, to know that I shared something with my dearest friend in the world that had improved her life so dramatically. Can any gift be greater than to be free of financial stress?
A few hours later, the doorbell rang. I went down and there was a package from Pottery Barn. Okay, anyone who knows me, knows I did NOT order anything from Pottery Barn. I opened the box, sure it was an accidental delivery. No, there was my name on the packing slip with an adorable little silver tape measure. Printed on it was "measure twice, cut once." I stared in utter confusion, fear struck me that this might be an inside joke from someone that I was supposed to understand. Finally my mind cleared and I realized that this must be the little gift that Knelly wanted to send me the other day just because she thought it was so cute. It was just another piece of the symbolic puzzle in my day.
What more could a girl ask for?
Now I must make my children a lunch and go romp and play with them for the rest of the afternoon.

AZ

2010-03-15T23:23:00.004-05:00

More ramblings for myself. Sometimes I write these for entertainment and sometimes I'm just documenting some memories. I figure I'll go back and read this stuff someday and laugh until I cry or just be glad it's there. Actually, I did do that a few months ago. I went back and read some blogs from 07 and laughed until I cried (but Gin thinks I cry too easily when I laugh, so I guess that's not too amazing). Anyway, I'm glad I've got it and wish I tried harder.
A little over a week ago we went on our first family vacation since Nick's birth. I'm not gonna lie. It's been a hard time in our lives for the last couple of years. It was liberating to just kick back and relax for most of the time. Jody's mom and Jerry took us to a great dinner theater on a farm. We ate on tin plates, got rowdy and banged on them with spoons, the kids were enthralled with the singers thinking we were in a movie. The girls got to shoot a colt 45. It had pearl handles and was over a hundred years old. They each got a turn, emptying wax rounds at a target. It was the highlight. They panned for gold, went in a saloon and listened to a singer. Kait told her Grandma that it was so beautiful her eyes got wet. I've jumbled up the sequence but it was a great night. The kids wished they could go every day. Jerry took Jody and Nick to a pre-season baseball game between the Diamondbacks and the Cubs. Nick loved it. Maureen treated all of us girls to Mani/Pedi's which we were thrilled with. We got to catch up with GG. I played a couple of rounds of scrabble with her and we had some good laughs. Maureen and Jerry hosted a big dinner and had all of her family in the area over one night. That was fun too. One night Jody and I got to have a grown up night out too! I put on a hot little number and failed to get any pics of us. ;( It was very romantic. We sat on the same side of a cozy booth in a small upscale restaurant. We were unaware of the expectation to make reservations, but were kindly seated anyway since the place wasn't packed. ;-) The meal was perfect and cost twice as much as any meal we've ever eaten but again, I didn't take pics of the food, though I should have. It was a memorable night. Kait had a lengthy "to do" list for the trip and I think that practically everything was hit. We went swimming, picked lemons at Aunt Margi's, named Kait's doll with Aunt Sharon and went shopping.It was a fun trip and we're thankful for the generosity of Jody's parents or we'd probably still be years away from a family vacation with the whole boo crew.

You have no idea...

2010-03-15T01:00:00.003-05:00

Well, I had been getting about a phone call per day from the craziest loon I have ever spoken to and it might be possible to relay those conversations properly if I were a great writer but I'll just try to give you a general idea. It takes some labor to do the "" stuff but in this instance I guess I have no option. First you must imagine a woman speaking in an artifically husky sexy voice with her mouth a little too close to the receiver. Not me, her. Anyway, her name is Heather and her email address indicates that she is a "Private Investigator". I think I've got this set up.
"Hi Heather, my name is Elizabeth, I got your email about your interest in the dining set on craigslist, what can I tell you about it?" (normal human being)
"(Weirdo)Ohhhhhh, Elizabeth, I am so glad you called me back, you see my boyfriend... oh I just hate using the word 'boyfriend' when you're over forty tee hee hee, he is in the process of looking at real estate and we came to be discussing design and I mentioned Mid Century to him and we came across your ad and I just love this table and it perfectly matches my ART and he he he he, well, he wants to buy it for me and I think this might really mean something,you see he's going through a divorce but we don't talk about it, but I think that he wants me to have a really nice dining set to come eat dinner with me. I want children so badly, do you have children?"
"Yes, three"
"Ohhhh, we want seven but we're probably too old but even if we can just have one or two....ha ha ha it would be a dream come true...he's a lawyer."
Ya know what? I thought I could relay all of those phone conversations but I just hit my max. Hopefully you get the idea. This woman talked my freakin ear off non-stop forevaaaaa! Meanwhile, I'm in various locations, my couch, my neighbors house, my daughter's classroom, making crazy faces thinking this is the most colossial waste of time in all of history. After the fifth call, I finally caved. She wanted me to deliver the dining set to her apartment over an hour away, sight unseen and she was promising that HE would pay me $690. No other prospects were looming and the bank account was looking kinda dim with the renters check bouncing and all, so I finally caved. There was also the excting thought of not having daily conversations with Heather. I'm sure you can imagine what her husky romantic diatribe over my affirmative decision sounded like, and how long it took her to profess it to me while diverting into admitting that she has been taking notes when her boyfriend calls her and reading them to me... I guess she somehow wanted me to decipher if these notes meant something... I was speechless, just focusing on the $$$ in my mind. I'm sure they were reflecting in my pupils. I got to the apartment and called her, she said she'd be right down so I waited and waited, and she never came out the door. I went inside the apartment building and found the little machine like they have on Jerry Seinfeld. I punched in the numbers and I really wanted her to answer so I could pretend I was on the show but it just rang and rang. I went back out to the car very puzzled. I called again and her "boyfriend" answered. He mumbled something about how it took Heather awhile but they'd be right down." This was at 3 in the afternoon so I naturally started speculating why he was there at that hour and what they were doing. Finally the door burst open and seductively swaying towards me comes a woman in the tightest black top and pants ever in the history of man with stilletto heels. Her boobs could literally rival Dolly Parton. Her lips could rival Angelina Jolie and her arched eybrows don't immidiately bring anyone to mind. She comes swaying towards me with curling blond hair, terrible makeup of which the bright pink lipstick is on one tooth and who is behind her??? A man at least 15 or 20 years her senior weighing in by his own confession at around 275. She runs her clickety nails over the table and oooohs and aaahhhs over it and he is inscructiable. I start sweating. He hasn't decided??? Finally, she bats her eyes, and he whips out the cash... he flips through his $50 bills and hands me a handfull and I feel happy but that this scene is kinda messed up with me in it. Ya know, I'm in a North Face cycling shirt with baggy stained jeans and furry crocs that are three years old. I don't belong in this movie. I could go on with all of the no so shocking things she said or try to describe her "art" but it's midnight and I've run out of steam. Suffice it to say, that one day this week, I really lived a Hollywood moment and met a true gold digger and a true sugga daddy. I went home with a money song in my heart, wondering how her private investigating business was going...

Count the Valentines!

2010-02-14T00:08:00.003-06:00

I stood in the kitchen with the refrigerator and stove pulled out, painting feverishly while the kids were happy. Nick's hair and right shoulder bore the evidence. Kait stood first on one foot then the other. Finally with a long sigh she said, "Mom, I think... eventually... you're going to need a taller ladder." Later, as I pushed on, swiping on the second coat in record time, she sat on the counter taking whatever painting apparatus I wasn't using and coating it liberally with paint. After watching me cycle through the different tools a few times, she said "okay, well when you need the dealtail thing, I have it all ready." I looked over and said "detail?" Her reply was so Kait. "Yeah, but I just call it dealtail."
A couple of days later she said "Mom, why did Tony close his shop?" I said, "well, he just wasn't making enough money." "So his boss told him he had to close it?" "Well, no, he made the decision, he was the boss." "(Gasp)Tony was a boss???? Wow, I wish I could be a boss... what do bosses do? Just tell people what to do and stuff? I wonder how you get to be a boss." All I could think to myself was "Yeah, a kid like you would daydream about being the boss." I just laughed and enjoyed it.

Merry Christmas

2009-12-25T13:15:00.001-06:00

December 14, 2009
Dear Family and Friends,

It has been awhile since I have written a Christmas letter but I'm turning the tide this year. It's been another rollercoaster year in the world of the Allen family. I guess everyone knows, last fall Jody was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and the first surgeon didn't remove all of the cancer. This spring we elected to go to the Mayo Clinic and have one of the best surgeons available perform the very delicate job of finding and removing the remaining cancer. It was a huge effort, supported by both of our families, that paid off enormously. Jody recently got the great news that he is very healthy and has only two very small questionable lymph nodes that may have to be looked at in a few years. They can't even be confirmed as cancer at this point. It's wonderful news, but the experience has changed us. We've now crossed the rivers of unemployment, being unable to sell our home in Minnesota, and learning contentment as renters the past couple of years. Now, we can truely empathize with any person facing the uncertain news of cancer. I can't help but be reminded of the parable Jesus told of the pruning of the vine so it could bear more fruit. I am happy to say, that our family now bears much fruit of God's goodness, when compared with the spiritual desert we complacently resided in just two short years ago. I can't say we've arrived, but God is definitely at work in our lives and the change is deeply satisfying.
My day to day is a bit of a disaster. Everyone knows I'm as haywire as they come. It didn't matter much when I was a stay at home mom to preschoolers, but we've now transitioned to school. I have to rise early and remember some detail every morning when I take Eden to school. There's homework, library books, tennis shoes on gym days... the list goes on. I'm not proud of the fact that I never do seem to get it all right, but I suppose the children will muddle through their school years as well as possible despite their deeply flawed mother. It is nice that we have new teachers each year. I know Eden is always loved by them, but having me for a class parent might be a little too much for any teacher for years on end. Between that, chasing two toddlers, keeping track of our escape artist dogs and buying and selling furniture, I rarely have time to put on a belt or tweeze my eyebrows.
Jody has been work - work - working as usual. His company is staying afloat amid the difficult economy and I'm thankful they have a strong business plan and know how to cut corners to prevent layoffs as much as possible. He's been riding his bike like he used to, before Eden was born and going to spin class most mornings at the gym. I told him the other day that his chiseled face is very distracting. How do I put a she devil face here? He loves it when I embrarras him... or maybe I just wish he loved it. He also built Eden's rabbit, Cotton a cage this fall that I like to call the "Taj Ma Hutch". The rest of his evenings are consumed with homework, pillow fights and wrestling matches and a bit of furniture refinishing.
Eden is seven this year and she has been trying out different hobbies. She finished up gymnastics in the spring, tried riding a horse and did a soccer clinic this fall. She announced yesterday as she got into the car after school that she needed to start Karate right away. Apparently there's been a recent rash of kiss chase on recess. She's doing great in first grade. She loves science and history and has grown by leaps and bounds in just one semester. I really can't believe that they call this first grade; she knows what an atom is, how a circuit works and who the phonecians were. She knows six parts of speech and how to write a letter from begining to end correctly.
Kaitlyn is four this year and this will be her last year at home under my wing. She works on her phonics daily and is constantly doing educational games on the computer. She is learning how to form letters, capitalize and space words on the computer and can sound out almost anything. She loves to type messages, write letters and makes er... well... abstract art for me. She's been taking violin since September and is on the brink of learning how to play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." I feel giddy when I watch her little fingers gaining confidence and skill on her tiny little instrument. I'll miss having her as my little buddy next fall.
Nicholas still has me wrapped around his little finger. I am starting to treat him like a big boy but I was struggling, as my entire family so nicely pointed out. He's very active, loves to build, loves to tumble and do acrobatics; but most of all, play with his cars and trucks. He talks enough for us to understand his needs but still bursts into spontaneous tirades of gibberish that send the whole family into laughter. He's expressive, charming and loves to cuddle. We have the tantrums and all of the lovely little two year old dealings but overall, he's a very good little two year old, even if he has been coddled a bit.
We'd love to hear from any and all of you. It seems like over time, addresses and phone numbers have a way of getting lost but it doesn't change the feelings of goodwill we cherish towards you all. May everyone's Christmas be filled with good memories and special time spent with family.

Love,
Jody, Elizabeth, Eden, Kaitlyn and Nicholas

I think it's important for me to record this.

2009-12-15T16:04:00.002-06:00

I have done Eden a terrible disservice and really have no way of making it up to her. She cried, I cried, then I cried again because of the horrible guilt. Somehow, this past fall, I sat down with the school calendar and recorded on my master calendar that Eden's Winter Musical would be on Wednesday, December 9th. By some mental acrobatics, I somehow managed to change that to December 16th in my mind. By some crazy twist of fate, both dates were wrong and it was, in fact, Monday, December 14th. It was last night, and Eden missed it. All of that would be understandable aside from the fact that I received several correspondences from the school regarding the exact date and it never registered. This was compounded by the fact that Eden told me last weekend that it was on Monday and I didn't believe her. I thought she was confused. I glanced at my calendar and didn't even notice I had it written on the 9th, not the 16th anyway. So, somehow despite approximately 15 safety nets, I made Eden, dear Eden, miss her Christmas Musical. She practiced those songs for months, she anticipated wearing her most beautiufl dress, and then she had to go to school today and listen to all of her friends talk about it. I have cried on and off about ten times. I am overcome with regret. So, though I often make fun of my lack of organization, I really do wish I could ever just get the really important things right.

A little confession

2009-12-08T00:02:00.002-06:00

Now, if this is not something that you identify with... please do me the favor of NEVER telling me. I realize that I am held to a higher standard by people judging my faith in Christ and I understand the logic. They think I find myself to be a better person deserving of heaven which is a complete misconception but is there nonetheless.
Sunday morning I rolled around in bed pretending I didn't need to get up yet. Finally at 9:20 I arose. I sailed into the kitchen to find Kait at the counter and Eden playing with the bingo game cage. I told them to run upstairs and get dressed quickly so we wouldn't be late for church. What I did not say was that they should disregard my lecture of the night before about their state of dereliction and desperate need for bathing. I ran downstairs to grab a shower because we all know that people will forgive dirty children but not dirty parents. I was in the third glorious minute of my shower when the pressure dropped and I realized the girls had independently decided to bathe. "GREAT." I got out of the shower, dashed upstairs and told them to hurry while digging everywhere for a clean pair of jeans that I like on me. None to be found. Gotta wear the old faithful black velvet pants, but it's freezing outside so then I had to paw through all of my drawers looking for the only pair of leggings I own to wear underneath. I finally felt sufficiently attired and turned back to the girls. They had decided to get out of the bath with dry hair. Now that was just pointless to me. I told them to wash each others hair and dashed downstairs to dry my hair. I got it about half dry and started getting the "Oh God, we're going to be late for CHURCH" ants in my pants. I dashed back upstairs and pawed through Nick's dresser looking for church clothes while lecturing the girls that they HAD to get OUT of the bath. They jumped out, I dashed back downstairs to answer the 10:00 doorbell and show some furniture that the lady did NOT buy and came back up a few minutes later to find Eden standing there telling me she had no idea what to wear to church. This was just the limit. All the while, Jody had been shoveling snow in the driveway and getting a shower himself, which turned out to be a 20 second shower where he shiveringly washed his hair. I dashed into Eden's room, found her some clothes and practically dressed her. Talked Kait into switching into a shirt that kind of matched her summer dress and tights she had chosen and then started trying to get Nick up so I could dress him. I had thrown several random items out trying to decide what would be both warm and cute on a 5 degree day. Not that Kait had cared, but all the same. Ya know? Eden showed up with her clothes on! Victory only to annouce that she had not conditioned her hair because she didn't have TIME. I exploded. Of course, having spent 30 minutes and an entire water heater full of water, I THINK she had time to condition her hair. I drug her quivering frame into the bathroom, slapped leave in conditioner into her hair and brushed it. Jody dressed Nick. Praise God. At this point, my neighbor Theresa whom I had invited to go to church with us was in the driveway, beautifully made up with smooth hair, fresh makeup and a cleaned off car. I started throwing granola bars at people and I KNEW I was not going to make it if I didn't get at least one cup of tea so I heated that up. We finally drug the whole clap trap crew out the door and made it to church on time.
I'm only sharing this story because I do know for a fact there is another woman who shared this same drama at a time in her life because Jody's mom told me so. No, it wasn't her! It was her sister and she said that she used to commit more sins getting her kids out the door to church, than the whole rest of the week. True, so true.
As I sat ready to take my communion at the end of church, all I could think of was how I had gotten up too late, had not laid out clothes for church, yelled at my daughter for my own lack of organization, had failed to give my family a breakfast due to my laziness and still sat primly in the pew with my symbolic cup of Christs blood which was shed for the very sins I committed that morning.

101

2009-11-16T22:22:00.004-06:00

Yup, this is my 101st blog entry.
I sat in my girls room recounting another childhood story last night. It is always their last request to either Jody or me before they drift to dreamland. I relived the day my dad drove down the road with my sister and me past our church and then past the ATV store. It was Mom and Dad's 17th anniversary.... I think. Suddenly, dad pulled off the road, turned the car around and headed back to the ATV store. He had an idea and nobody knows how to be completely impetuous like my dad. He pointed at the huge trampoline on display out front and announced that it would be the perfect anniversary gift to Mom. Gin and I wanted it and I mean BAD but we just weren't sure how Mom was going to feel about it on her anniversary. It didn't matter. Dad had sold himself on it in a split second. The salesman quickly convinced all of us that we needed the one with the 25 year guarantee. We took it home, broke open the boxes and pinched our hands a zillion times putting the thing together. Dad was positively giddy and completely sure it was the recipe for an unforgettable anniversary. Ginny and I had finally reconciled ourselves to the fact that we might enjoy Mom's anniversary gift more than she would and maybe we'd just have to live with the guilt. Mom came home with Daniel and we led her to the trampoline. She saw it and laughed. She walked up to it and tears of laughter were pouring down her face. She held onto the side of it and laughed. Then she got on it and jumped and laughed harder. Very quickly she jumped off and headed to the restroom laughing. She came back and started laughing as soon as she got back on it and I guess I had no realization at the time but now I see how my parents were able pull through all of the tough times. It wasn't a perfect life and none of the six people in our family were perfect people but we all instinctively knew how to make something special happen for one another in a completely selfless way. That memory is so clear and yet the one thing I'm fuzzy on is exactly how long Dad just stood watching my mom's joy. I guess my family thinks that I'm fortunate to have a crystal clear memory of my childhood and also be able to cling to the happy moments, put a glow around them and call them my childhood. Luckily, I'm also able to remember the tough times, when my parents chose to love no matter where their partner was at, and I know that is what pulled them through. Mom and Dad have been through alot in the years since that anniversary. As a matter of fact, a house fire took every memento, ever love letter, every gift from every anniversary and every love song Dad ever wrote for Mom but they still have a trampoline for a romantic night under the stars now and then.
Jody loves for me to share it all. He sat and listened to that story about the trampoline and I saw a wistfulness in his expression but also a recognition of what to want. His only comment was "That is a wonderful story." It told me he was so glad that I had that memory and that now we can give our children such memories together. I feel the same unbreakable thread of love in the family Jody and I have been given. It is the thread of love and selflessness that always pulls us through the impatience, the miscommunications, the hard days and the uncertain moments.
But to my parents, I can only say, thank you for the gift. Thank you for the example to follow. The gift of perservering through every hardship, side by side, slugging it out together, for God, for each other and for your children. Of all things, I think to myself that I want to give to my children more than anything, I just want them to always know that we love God, we love each other and we love them more than ourselves.
I think my next blog will be a collection of the love shown by each family member just to me, that I will never forget from those not so long ago days on the farm.

Map Loco

2009-11-12T15:42:00.003-06:00

I am loco over my map loco. I had peeps from Dublin Ireland and Cali visit my blog today! It's so cool! It made me want to keep writing. Maybe someday I can get a paying job writing. I think for that to happen, I would have to morph overnight into a planner with a writing career plan.
I'll add a little onto my last blog just because my mind has expanded on it. If you are not a planner, it means you are a dreamer. You replace your planning time with dream time. For instance, this AM, I knew I had to take food to the teachers at school. I toyed with making bread, dreamed about all of their faces when they saw the homemade bread, tossed aorund the idea of making other tantalizing treats from my kitchen, like my homemade macaroni and cheese but I had no shell pasta or maybe piles of scones, but I would need cream, perhaps fratata but I had no hashbrowns. While I was dreaming up the tantalizing treats to place before the worshipful teachers and school staff, I took care of the feverish children and wondered if they would ever get well. I wandered over to the computer and what to my dreaming eyes should be on craigslist but another leather couch. I pounced on it and the lady gave me first dibs. I loaded up the groggy children, dashed over to Niwot and discovered a not so great couch. No worries, I could go home and still have time to whip up something nice for the teachers. I called Jody and he said I should go to Sam's for a replacement camera and so I decided with my poor miserable children in tow that I should just find some easy pre-made treat for the teachers at Sam's. It would feed them and they might not contract our terrible virus. That is what happens to dreamers. Planners, sit down a week in advance, plan what they'll take to the teachers and go to the store several days in advance and purchase all of their ingredients. Then they place tantalizing homemade treats before the eyes of the adoring school employees.
The other day, Kait came to me with her eyebrows scrunched together and said "Mommy, what does stinded mean?" I scrunched my eyebrows together myself and looked into her eyes. I hate asking for more information so I said "Extended?" She replied that yes, I had it. "I sagged with relief because I just love it when I don't have to pepper the kids with questions to figure out what in the world THEIR question is. "Extend is when you make something longer, like a table with the leaf in it or if family visits and decides to stay longer, they have an extended visit." Kait nodded, with that look of a child on a wavy sea of confusion in their minds. I watched her eyes bounce around the room trying to make an intangible connection then she said "well, what if a dogs tummy is stinded, then what?" To me, I just couldn't help but wonder how long Kaitlyn had been contemplating the word distended. How long had she thought about it and tried to puzzle it out and where in the world had she heard it? She hasn't seen Animal Planet in ages.
She calls Halloween "Hallowing." I love that.
Eden was rushing around the other day working on the Thankfulness tree and skidded across the kitchen (her tylenol was working) "Mom, where's the destruction paper?"
One night when dinner cleanup was done, I landed on the couch with a sigh, but it didn't feel like I was alone. I didn't hear anything but it felt like another person was very close to me, breathing distance. I lunged up and looked out the window beside me to see if someone was right outside. Nothing. Still the strange feeling persisted. I heard a little crinkle of plastic. I looked down at the floor at the end of the couch. Nothing. The crinkling plastic got louder and the curtain swayed, a struggling grunt and a heavy breath was expelled almost right beside my face. I pulled the bunched curtain completely away from the wall and discovered Nick, with a package of AAA batteries open looking at a battery. I can't imagine the disappointment. He had planned this, executed it, squirreled himself away, probably anticipating chocolate and all he had was a battery.

What kind of person am I?

2009-11-07T19:13:00.003-06:00

I know that alot of people write books and slice people up into lots of different categories based on a variety of premises but I'm just gonna slice em up into two categories. There's the people that plan their life and people that dream their lives. I meet the planners basically everywhere. They are very obvious. If you have a question about a school policy, they ramble it off because they read everything in it's entirety. They get up at a certain time, they go to the gym, they do certain laundry on certain days, they have storage rooms with clear plastic totes that are labeled for extra security, they do meal planning, they remember where they are going and when, up to a month in advance from a mental CALENDAR, they balance their checkbooks, have an organized junk drawer and rotate the clothes through their closets. I realize there are some who find this as mind blowing as I do and that is why I have created the other category. Basically everything that happens, happens to you , not because you made it happen like the planners but because when you should have been planning, you were dreaming. I don't even want to go into what happens to the non-planners in the grocery store and the resulting week of meals from this weekly catastrophe... A perfect example of this personality type would be my impact on my entire relationship with Jody. We dated with no plan... that I knew of although there was plenty of dreaming. Later Jody admitted that he had a plan but never divulged it to me. His plan was sabotaged by my lack of planning and the resulting first "suprise miracle" followed closely by two more. There was a brief time of planning, where we sold the townhouse and bought a three bed two bath home in Littleton but then we decided to move to Minnesota. We had no plan whatsoever. We had no plan and batta bing, lots of stuff HAPPENED to us. I can't help but think, that if we were like the couple on House Hunters that strolled out into suburbia, bought a two story house and furnished it for the "someday" that they have children, with a calculated plan... perhaps things would be a little more... planned.
Luckily for my children, Eden and Kait both seem to be natural planners. Kaitlyn plans all of her grandparents visits well in advance, she plans craft time each week, trips to the park, grocery store trips and even baths. She loves to make lists and phone calls to arrange playdates...Eden plans her birthday party six months in advance and regularly has planned marketing strategies of which today included starting a hair braiding business. She's made and "OPEN" and "CLOSED" sign to hang on our front door and huge posters to put out front tomorrow. I am only hoping she won't find it crushing if I am her only customer, but kids seem to be resilient, especially if they are planners because the next strategy is in the works before the first one has failed. None of this comes from me. I decided to start the fence repair project the other day and had no concept that I would possibly need more than a chop saw, a drill and some screws. As for measuring each board, eh, what's the big deal? I soon found out what the big deal was and suffered a laborous experience due to, as usual, my absence of ability to plan.
Even this very moment, I know if I want to come up with any creative Christmas gifts for people, I need to get on it right now. Will I do what I know the planners are doing? No, I won't. Christmas will happen to me just like every year. I will be a victim of it's chaos and confusion, hoping that if I make hot cocoa with a peppermint stick in it and sing Christmas songs to the kids every night of December, they'll look back on it fondly and think how special it was, without a clue of the clever "Martha Stewart Living" Christmases going on all around us.
I also know that I should have a list together of groceries I need for Thanksgiving. Will I do that? Perhaps, if I finish painting the bathroom that I started over a week ago and can't seem to get around to finishing the trim on. I do have to say, I'm not overly concerned, because I have sewn up Thanksgiving quite nicely. I have two planners coming to dinner, so it should be a cinch.
In closing, I have to say, that even though I push it, I don't plan and life really does just seem to be happening to me all over the place, I'm so happy. I'm just so happy. The blessings God has brought through my complete lack of planning have made up for all of the chaos of the process.
Now that I've written all of this, I realize quite clearly that Jody IS a planner... I just need to be on the planning committee. I could take the minutes.

2009-10-29T14:59:00.001-05:00

Seven years of Eden

2009-10-29T11:25:00.004-05:00

This is a bit belated but I try to make a special blog about each child around their birthdays.
I have had ups and downs as a mother and whenever I honestly look at it, the only downside to parenting is my own selfishness, laziness or impatience, not any absence of greatness from my children. It's amazing, we have had seven years of Eden. I suppose it would make Adam and Eve jealous. I've always pictured them in Eden for maybe a few months and then blowing it.
Eden has been basically the best first child God could have given us. She is relatively quiet, intelligent, creative, not too bossy and very patient with the others. She's sensitive which has made school a bit of a journey but she seems to be doing well now and has a fun little circle of friends.
She lost three teeth this fall before she turned 7. It seems like we're running out of those little kid first memories.
What I love about Eden is how she cares about me. She's not quite child like. If I have a headache, she honestly wants to give me a massage. If I snap at her she politely tells me that's okay she'll do whatever she asked for later. It's very convicting and I think it's the only true motivator of change. Having a child willing to behave more maturely than me, really puts this parent on track. I volunteer in her class and when I come in, she makes me feel so loved. She just wants me to be with her every second and hugs me constantly.
She's a floating soul with a long attention span for imagination and a short one for penmanship. She loves math and seems to rarely get a problem wrong, comes home bursting with information about science, singing her songs from music and diligently trys at english and reading but I do believe she will be relieved when they tire of trying to make her write and hand her a laptop someday. Writing does not appear to be her forte. The more she has to write the less interested she is in the project.
Her giggle is one of the most addictive sounds. As a matter of fact, I can hear her making the whole crew giggle right now as they make stair sleds out of sleeping bags and tumble down. We have a foot of snow outside and if I were a great mom, I'd suit them up and take them to a sledding hill.
Some of Eden's finer moments this year have been:
She told me she made friends with a girl named Ella because she was always alone on the playground. I loved that she reached out to someone who seemed alone. When I met Ella's dad later he told me it was her first year. It brought a bit of joy to me.
She really does just play whatever Nick wants for hours. She does the same thing she did with Kait at this age where she feeds ideas to the little one and makes them feel like it was their idea and then makes it even better. She's a great friend to her siblings and I love that.
I guess I feel like a seven year old is just so big and so little. So big that she's going to school all day, marching in with her backpack and her lunch sack, but just so little next to all of those other kids. So big compared to her siblings but so little when I can't get her out the door in the morning because she's still pretending a big scenario with Kaitlyn while I yell "PUT YOUR SHOES ON!" She's doing really great with school. She gets distracted but I'm told that goes with the territory.
On her birthday, I took cupcakes in to her class and had them all set out when the kids came back from a specials class. The children came pouring in bursting out with exclamations like "CUPCAKES, ORANGE JUICE, I LOVE CHOCOLATE!!!!!!" Ms. Baxter was repeating in a normal voice over and over "Please go to your seats and do not touch the cupcakes." It was pandamonium. I watched the kids pour in and wondered where Eden was. I should have known she'd be last. She's the pokiest puppy in the crew. She walked in, her eyes slid over the room, and then came to rest on me. She smiled, walked over to me, wrapped her arms around me and said "Thank you Mommy." She quietly sat down at her desk, listened to the birthday song and snarfed down her cupcake. It kinda felt like I got the big gift. What a lady to just thank me like that with such sincerity.
Her birthday party at the Rec Center was fun too. She climbed the rock wall which she's always wanted to do and she swam almost to her hearts content. I made a rainbow of cupcakes that turned out pretty cute and all of the kids seemed to have fun. Her Grandapa and Grandma Allen drove out for the week, so she had a special taxi service to school and whatnot. It seemed more like a birth week than a birthday.
I love you so much Eden.

Singin in the rain

2009-10-27T22:19:00.003-05:00

Seems like you're always facing something and sometimes it's worse than others. Fall has a certain knack for presenting us with stuff. I remember two Christmases ago I was consumed with the move back to Colorado and all of the emotions surrounding it. Last year we were dealing with Jody's cancer and spent Christmas waiting to find out if they thought they'd gotten it all etc... Now this one will be spent fighting our insurance company to make them pay for Jody's latest surgery. It seems ridiculous and frustrating but it certainly puts money in perspective when I look back at the weighty issues we've faced lately. I know it's easier for me to put money worries aside because I'm not the breadwinner and I have an instinct for thinking optimistically but for this Christmas, I oddly feel a burst of joy that hasn't consumed me for many Christmases. I am so relieved that all we really have to deal with for now is money. What a relief. Even as I stare at a $30,000 medical bill wondering how far I will have to go to find someone to take responsibility for it. So, let the financial rain fall. It's nothing.
Kaitlyn had violin today. She loves it. Today she was finally allowed to play the bow on the violin for the first time. This was either her 6th or 7th week so there was alot of build up to this. She has mastered nothing but she and I have learned alot. I feel so overwhelmed at each lesson but what's interesting is Kait takes it for granted that she'll be able to do it and she does it.
We went to the pumpkin patch this last weekend and had a good time. I can see how far Jody and I have come. We took one look at the pumpkin prices and decided to pick up our Colorado grown pumpkins at King Soopers and pay for a hay ride. Learning the hard way how to have a good time and pinch those pennies.

2009-10-27T19:17:00.001-05:00

2009-10-23T16:41:00.001-05:00

This n That

2009-09-19T00:14:00.003-05:00

Eden started school in late August and I'm such a wimpy mom. I just hate going to bed at night and I hate waking up in the morning. I roll around in the bed moaning and finally drag myself away from my little heaven and then go inflict the same torture on Eden. Who picked this life schedule and why does everyone have to participate? If they had a school that ran from 10-5 Eden would go and we would love staying up late and sleeping in like the sluggards that the Bible calls people like us. Anyway, here's a pic of her on the first day. Doesn't she look bright eyed and bushy tailed? She won't say she loves school and she won't say she hates it but I think she's really distracted by the other kids. She comes home telling me she had to take school work out on recess because she didn't finish in class and hasn't eaten a quarter of her lunch. Already all of this friend drama on the playground... ugh and we haven't even started homework. She's also started riding horses this year. I got a 1/4 lease of a 19 year old pony and she can go out to this farm nearby and ride her twice a week. She loves it!
So Kaity and I are homeschooling again this year. She's always pushing me and I'm horribly distracted by my little furniture business but we do try. Here's a picture of her standing by the self portrait we made this week. She also learned how to read the word "the." A new word she is using for everything is "concentrating." It's her explanation for everything she forgets. "Well, I was concentrating on yadda yadda yadda, so I FORGOT yadda yadda yadda. LOL! She's also starting violin. I don't even want to go into the details of the violins that have run through our house on the hunt for the perfect one, which I believe we now have. She's excited and Eden can't wait to hear her play "twinkle twinkle litle star."
Nick is just the darling of my life and he gets away with MURDER. He bites Kaitlyn, gets out of bed and comes downstairs after I put him to bed at night, he refuses to eat meals, begs for trix and is just basically spoiled rotten. I really hope he doesn't get rotten. I feel powerless to even try to parent him with the same discipline I've given the girls. He's my baby and now I get it. Every mother that I've seen carting her four year old around on her hip and getting a cup of milk for, now has my empathy. I officially get it. If he smiles and turns his head to the side like Bolt, I melt... I know the situation is dire, because the girls have started telling me "he's NOT a baby anymore, he shouldn't get to do that!" Oh and he won't talk even though he can. It's just pathetically adorable and irresistable.

Here's a couple

The Auction House

2009-09-16T12:36:00.002-05:00

It was a cool dark night. I walked into the seedy auction house and every sage eye in the place gave me the once over. I knew I looked out of place but something from my childhood calls me to places like this. The antique theater seating was reminiscent of the salebarn where I spent thousands of hours of my childhood watching the cow punchers push the animals through the auction ring. I settled in a seat in about the 6th row. The man next to me said hi which I recpirocated. I could feel my pulse pick up as I watched the auctioneer run through item after item, selling it before I could decide whether to bid or not. The old auction hounds stood at the front, eyeing everything over closely but I wasn't so brave. Suddenly, the handler was holding an old stenograph machine, they couldn't get a bid so they threw in a roadside emergency kit. They were asking $10 and nobody was biting. To my covetous eyes, what should appear but a shoeshine kit. He threw it in to the lot and every wise soul sat there impassively. I went back in time to my early childhood. My older brother Louis sat proudly with his shoeshine kit, polishing his shoes to an impossible shine. First he applied the polish, then he rubbed it into every crevice, then he let it sit, then he got out the brush, he brushed it seemingly forever, finally he set aside the brush and took out a softer brush, after that it was the super soft cloth being buffed across the toe of the shoe feverishly, finally to be lifted as if it were a magicians cloth to reveal a shoe that looked more beautiful than a new one. Perhaps not all of these images rushed through my mind, but the sight of that shoeshine kit evoked a general feeling of nostalgia as I stared at it. From seemingly nowhere, two antique prosthetic legs appeared and the whole crowd guffawed. If anything was going to kill the mood to bid, I think it was those creepy buff colored fake legs with scratches all over them. I stared incredulously, trying to imagine Jody's face if I walked in the door with such a spectacle. In a split second I decided they could always be discarded and I just could not resist the shoe shine kit. The auctioneer was about to give up. The price was dropping and finally it went to $2 and it seemed my arm flew up with a will of it's own. The auctioneer collapsed onto his desk and lift his head in a dramatic gesture and said with great feeling "THANK YOU FOR YOUR MERCY BID." Everyone in the room burst into laughter and the handler came toward me with those legs... then another handler came with the roadside emergency kit, then another handler arrived with the shoeshine kit and the stenograph machine. It was my first auction and I was already the laughingstock of the auction house. As I walked by, people would say "oh so you're the 'leg' lady!" "Ha ha ha, I can't believe you wound up with those legs!" " What in the world are you going to do with those things?" I gave a sheepish grin and made several trips to the car with my $2 loot, justifying it in my mind the whole time as a necessary means to a vague end.
Ahh well, I think I got the last laugh on all of those old auction hounds. I have a nice shoe shine kit and roadside emergency kit for my car.
The stenograph machine sold on Ebay for over $70. I gave a leg to a friend to use as a gag gift and sold the other for $10 on Ebay which I absent mindedly sent to the stenograph machine buyer and accidentally sent the stenograph machine to the very nice Dr. who wanted the leg but that's a whole nother story.

A fun little family visit

2009-09-13T19:50:00.003-05:00

Jody's Aunt Sharon and Uncle Bob breezed in last night and had a little visit with us. They even took us all out for a night out on the town and treated us to a yummy dinner at Johnny Carino's. I can't help but think how brave anyone is to take my crew out. It was alot of fun and even today Eden and Kait were bemoaning the fact that they weren't here longer. Bob's hilarious and Sharon's the epitome of kindness and attentiveness to the kids. I had to take a pic of Sharon and Kait together because they were matchey. LOL! Here's the fun evening. Unfortunately I was so consumed with taking the picture that I don't know what Jody was doing to make Bob and Sharon laugh so hard.

First Grade and other stuff

2009-08-29T15:08:00.002-05:00

Eden just finished her second week of school. I love it. I have all day to do my chores, drink my tea and educate Kaitlyn and Nick before I have to pick her up. Last year is just a miserable memory. My disorganization, Kaitlyn always feeling gyped on time for homeschool and Nicks naps interrupted are a thing of the past. We started the year with a bang just the way I had planned in a previous blog. I bought a closet bag organizer, went together with my mother-in-law to make sure Eden had enough clothes to make it until I catch up with laundry and then some, I bought a huge calendar and hung it on the inside of the pantry door and loaded it with the special days I must remember things. I baked banana spice bread for the fall festival and delivered it on time. I have remembered the Friday folder and kept everything in it's place so far. I do not know if I will continue in this vein for the whole year but it does feel very good so far.
Jody's mom and step-dad came for a visit recently and on the last day of their visit I had a little inspiration. As Maureen came out of the kitchen I popped my belly out as far as I could and gently rubbed it while saying"You know Maureen, we've been meaning to tell you..." She almost fainted. I laid in bed that night getting spurts of giggles over it. It just cracked me up to no end.
On that topic, my dear little brother Daniel and his wife Hannah are expecting their first baby! Apparently she has had the worst possible morning sickness, finally having to be put on prescription meds. Poor thing. I never felt good during pregnancy but luckily never puked.
I was sitting here the other day plunking around on the computer and looked up and Kait had her body half buried under the buffet. Suddenly she shouted, "guys come here, there's something very MYSTERIOUS under here!" It was an old egg sack from a spider.
WE went to Sam's Club last night and Kait wanted to buy a flat of gatorade. Jody foolishly told her that if she could pick it up and put it in the cart, he'd buy it... She couldn't so she moved over to the vitamin water which had fewer bottles and carried it over and slid it onto the bottom of the cart. Jody kept trying to argue and tell her that she hadn't put it in the top. The little spunky thing had gumption. She told him she had it in the cart and it still counted. Jody was trying to figure out how to avoid spending $13 on humming bird nectar so I said, "hey Kait, how about organic chocolate milk instead?" She just grinned and said "okay, but I'll get it" and marched off. Dad always said I was the biggest little kid he knew. Well, I guess Kait's the biggest little girl I know.
Nick runs non-stop. He runs circles around the house, upstairs, downstairs, through the store, down the driveway, here, there everywhere. We have a rather belated 2 year checkup coming up and I predict that he hasn't gained an ounce but has stretched 2 inches. Nobody can believe how little and agile he is. All of these thundering 18 month old boys seem to tower over him and just fumble along while he can climb anything, run as fast as can be and looks like he's about a year old. It's kinda funny.
Eden brought home the Friday folder last night and she had finished the sentence: In first grade, I want to learn... so she put "too be smart." The teacher put a smiley on it and wrote "you ARE smart!" I thought it was cute.
Finally, there has been a theft in our little world. Some Nazi stole my bumper sticker.... if you follow my political blog, check it out. I went crazy on craigslis.

A few cute moments

2009-07-27T09:57:00.002-05:00

The other day, Kait came and stood in front of me rambling on and on about something which I wasn't honestly even trying to process. Suddenly she stopped short and looked at me puzzled. "Why DON'T you use the purse Aunt Gin made for you anymore, Mommy?" "Well, I just got kinda tired of it and needed a change." "Oh.... I think that's a good acision, but it's kinda mean." And she left.

Nick had a nap and at bed time he was not tired. He laid in my bed next to me pretending his feet were two alligagtors I suppose. The left would attack the right with a huge roar and then the right would attack the left and wrestle it down. I said "shhhhh" so the wrestling match paused then resumed in a whisper.

Eden wanted to sell her bunkbeds and the matching dresser. I had been using the dresser for my stuff but finally it sold, so as the buyers and I loaded everything into the truck, Eden urgently flagged me down. She pulled me to the side and whispered "did you get all of your panties and stuff out of there?" The child looked mortified at the thought. I got the most helpless giggles.

Nick has a habit that cannot be captured in words but I'll do my best. If a mood hits him, he will avoid your eyes and watch you serepticously. He will continue what he's doing, darting glances from the corner of his eye without expression. It seems to be his trademark skill. If he thinks something is funny, he will sometimes hold a deadpan expression as long as possible before bursting into laughter. I've seen him hold out for over a minute while Jody balanced pringles on the tip of his tounge and sucked them in like a lizard.

Here's a little funny on Jody while I'm at it. The other night the kids wanted to have a band... it's a frequent pastime. Well, Jody suddenly had one of those gut busting bouts of childhood freedom and belted a plastic drum onto himself and led a marching band around with his body hunched forward, doing his best to do drum rolls with the drumsticks attached to the sides of the drum by rope. I giggled my head off. His completely off the wall expression was just so over the top I couldn't contain myself. Perhaps most women see their husbands act this way on a regular basis, I don't know, but it definitely reminded me of Jody's alltime high which I'm quite sure he'd string me up for posting here. I guess his typically reserved personality is what makes it so shocking and hilarious in the moment.

Jody's feeling pretty good. He didn't have an easy healing. The incision became infected twice so I made him get a prescription of antibiotics and his shoulder hurts pretty fiercely. I think he needs to go to a massage therapist but I haven't made him an appointment. He hasn't argued with my idea though, so that gives me an idea of how bad it hurts.

We are still renters and we are still landlords to a house a thousand miles away. For awhile I had anxiety about finding a house during the window of lower prices but with the unemployment rate still skyrocketing, I have a feeling we have time.

Jody's surgery and recovery

2009-07-02T23:23:00.003-05:00

This might be the dryest blog entry in my 1 1/2 year blogging history.
We flew to MSP last Wednesday and Jody's dad picked us up. Jody had tests and meetings with the doctor and surgeon on Thursday. His surgeon and doctor were wonderful. He had the surgery on Friday morning. It took about 2 1/2 hours. It took another hour and a half before he came out of recovery. Right away when we went to his room, he was joking and giving people a hard time. He was in pain, so the nurse brought morphine which knocked him out. The doctor came in and said that he had removed about 60 lymph nodes from his neck to be on the safe side and 19 had been positive for the cancer. He reminded me that this cancer can be very annoying but that Jody won't die of it. He said he can't guarantee that Jody is cancer free, but he really trusts his ultrasound people to find stuff and that as long as we monitor it, if a little tiny bit pops up here or there in the next few years, they might be able to do alcohol ablation and avoid surgery. So, we didn't get the absolute resolution we were hoping for but we trust that this doctor really knew what he was doing and had a good idea of what we were dealing with. We went home and grabbed dinner and when we got back to the hospital, Jody was awake and we stayed there until quite late waiting for the doctor to come by, but he didn't make it, so we went home very late with Nick quite sick of hanging out in a shared hospital room. The next day, Nick was oficially sick of the hospital. I took him in to see Jody in the morning and he was just nutsy, so Jerry and I told Jody we'd come back in awhile and let him nap. His mom came by soon after that so cruel, selfish mother that I am, I dropped Nick back off there with Jody and his mom and her husband while I grabbed lunch with my friend Knelly. I earnestly begged her to have her water break and go into labor in the restaraunt like in the movies but, stubborn woman that she is, she did not oblige. They said Nick had a wonderful time in the waiting room, but I still know I was being a terrible mom. At 3:30 they released Jody so I took him back to his dad's place for the night. He got a sore throat that night and woke up miserable. I made him a milkshake and he had a cup of coffee but he could barely swallow and often choked on water even. We decided to move to Jody's mom's house that day, so I had a very busy morning and his mom picked us up around 1:00. We got settled in at their place and his grandmother came for dinner. I was so glad to see her, she's one of my favorite people in the world. I wish I could just surround myself with people like her so they would rub off and I could be a better person. Jody was able to eat. His throat had gotten somewhat better. But... that night at midnight, my dear Knelly called and told me her water had broken and asked me to come since her midwife was over 2 hours away and she didn't know if it would go fast or slow. I had dreamed of miraculously squeezing her birth in to our whirlwind trip, knowing I needed to prioritize Jody over everything. Well, I thougth he was better, and that Nick was asleep and this was a prime chance for me to indulge. I dashed over to Knelly's in my p.j.'s and watched an awesome birth. I'm a junkie. If there is one addiction I have, it's birth. Not so much having babies, as being there,, for that miraculous moment when a baby slips out into the world and is greeted by the people who love it more than anyone else ever will. I dashed up and down three flights of stairs all night long and then drug myself back to the house at 7. Lo and behold, Jody is sitting at the counter, looking like death warmed over. He could barely speak. I asked how he was and he said that Nick had been up from 2 to 6. I honestly can't think of a time in Nicks life that he has spent four hours of the night awake but of course it happend on the night I left Jody's side right after a major surgery. I went and laid down, sick as a dog over what I'd put him through. I tried to justify it and tell myself all of what I should have done but I guess everyone makes poor choices sometimes. I guess if I had it to do over, I would have asked Maureen if she would be completely available to Nick during the night and not let Jody touch him. I mean, at his age, he can handle a few hours away from mom. I just felt like dirt, that Jody had shouldered that mess. His throat got worse, so we called the doc and his nurse said that it was normal and to suck on throat lozenges. His uvula was completely swollen. We got on the plane and flew home that day. We arrived at the house around 8. Gin had completely cleaned the whole house, made Jody stew with tiny soft pieces but deliciously wonderful. The children were all dressed up in their best for our homecoming and the table had a beautiful bouquet, a pound of organic hazelnut coffee, a bottle of chianti and a card signed by every child wishing Jody a speedy recovery. It was very sweet. Jody was barely able to swallow the stew but he managed. The next afternoon, I couldn't stand it anymore. I called his doc again and they put me through to him. He sat and chatted with me for at least 5 minutes, going through theories of what might be going on with Jody's throat. We decided to take him off of his Oxycontin and put him on ibuprofen and benadryl. The benadryl was my idea for the swelling... the doc really thought it was irritation from the tube in Jody's throat during surgery but agreed that the benadryl wouldn't hurt. He asked me to make sure Jody was propped up during the night and please call him the next moring at 9:00 with an update. So, we did all of the above, I got Jody to drink lots of water, I had made several fresh fruit smoothies and homemade icecream by this point. The next morning he said he was a tiny bit better so I gave him two benadryl and more ibuprofen and by the time I called the doc, Jody was sure he was a little better. Despite this brief update, the amazingly nice head surgeon of endocrine surgery at the Mayo Clinic managed to keep me on the phone for at least another five minutes, telling me how glad he was that I was in my own words "neurotic" over Jody. He said he doubted the benadryl was hurting but it probably wasn't helping. He spent all of this time debating over the thing and convincing himself again that it had to be the tube. He has to be the most compelling doctor I've ever met. I mean it. People need to realize here, that I typically detest doctors in the medical setting, though I've found many to be very nice people outside of the medical setting. I find the doctor side of them to be controlling, insulting, manipulative and suffering from a chronic superiority complex. I finally ended the conversation by telling Dr. Grant that if I didn't worship God, I would certainly worship him. He got a good laugh out of that and sealed his position in my mind of the greatest, and most humble doctor in the world. When I got off of the phone, Jody laughed and said "what was he saying all that time? It sounded like he just dragged that conversation on forever." Obviously, I just can't get over this guy. LOL! I made pancakes and Jody was able to eat them, so I knew he was better. He quit taking the benadryl for awhile and started blowing his nose and sneezing constantly which hurt his neck and shoulder terribly. It was then, that we finally realized that Jody was either having terrible allergies or a cold. He's been taking the benadryl religiously and now his throat feels great. He can turn his head to both sides. He's sleeping well at night and feeling good. All in all, a few bumps in the road for Jody but he pulled through. I wish I'd done a better job of taking care of him, but I like to think I learn pretty well from these little life experiences.

Nicholas James turns 2

2009-06-12T21:36:00.003-05:00

My little boy, the baby is now 2. I can't call him the baby and I can't count his age in months anymore. He does still nurse himself to sleep and he still speaks Nickeneese but he's growing up before my eyes. When Daddy comes home he does an adorable little dance and chants "Dayee Dayee Dayee." Then he squats down and pops up into a standing position. He crawls all over Daddy and balances on his shoulders, trying to wiggle his love all over him. My special connection with Nick is the way he loves to bring me books and sit right in my lap and speak Nickeneese to me when I ask him what things are in the book. He often shakes his head when I ask him to say something and just points. He has this hilarious thing he does where he squints his eyes and purses his lips in a world weary expression when he knows he's been caught. Then he tips his head to the side and gives me his best smile. It's a far cry from the fearful "busted" expressions my girls have always shown when caught with their fingers in the honey jar or an opened package of rolo's in the checkout aisle at Target. Nick seems to know that if he smiles I'll just melt. Fortunately for me, he's the only one.

Yesterday was a great birthday for the little guy and I am sure I thanked Jody for agreeing to "one more" at least three times. He started the day a bit early but it got him into Mommy's bed for a little while and then Kait made him a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast. I topped it off with scrambled eggs and oj and he ate his fill. All of us spent the day singing different "Happy Birthday" songs to him and asking him to show us how old he was. He would either shake his head or say "oooono" translation "I don't know" or squint and purse his lips and walk away. Despite spending the better part of two weeks coaching, coaxing and begging, Nick never even tried to hold up two fingers and say "I'm two." That's his personality, you just can't make him. He has recently started talking about babies. It's fun. He says "beebee, beebee, beebee."
In the afternoon, we made a german chocolate cake with all three children on the kitchen counter, sneaking bites of every stage. When I tried to get the cakes out of the pan, they stuck. GRRR, but lovely little Birthday Boy was there to grab handfuls of tender warm chocolate cake and stuff them in his mouth. I still managed to put the cake together but labeled it the homliest cake I have ever made. Eden was scandalized, telling me that it looked delicious. Jody proclaimed that he'd rather have a tasty ugly cake any day. It confirmed to me that it was, in fact, the homliest cake I have EVER made, and quite tasty to boot. We made homemade pizza and homemade icecream and Nick opened his gifts. It was really, a perfect little family day. I felt that Nick's birthday was properly recognized and was fun for everyone else to boot.
In summary, we are so happy to have Nick as the littlest in our family. He makes us laugh every day, makes me want to squeeze and hug and cuddle every hour, and makes Eden and Kait want to scream every minute. Thank heaven for little boys!

My Love's in Montana and Eden's almost done with Kindergarten!

2009-05-19T23:17:00.004-05:00

Jody had to make a little business trip to Montana this week. He called me today and I think he loves the place so much he wants to live there. Well, aside from the slow drivers. It sounds kind of like Arkansas. Lush green terrain with winding roads and people in no hurry to get anywhere anytime soon. I fell in love with Montana when I heard they're standing up for state's rights and telling the Fed's where to stick it but that's for the politico blog I suppose. Anyway, it was a short one, so we'll see him tomorrow and he had lunch with us before he left on Monday. Really it's like he was gone for all of one day. Not too bad, but I do miss the troublemaker. I told him the other day when he announced that he was going to try to sell his VP Free, that I'm going to write an entire blog entry about all of the "last" bikes he's had. The first one was cute, just cute. We were dating and he had taken a day trip up to Winter Park to go riding with a friend. He walked in with that little "bike grin" that I now know SO well and wheeled in his Jekyll 2000. He had gotten a great deal and it was his first full suspension."This bike will be all that I could ever ask or want from a bike." He told me the inches of travel and other bike lingo, something about xtr and whatnot. Three months later I see him looking at BMX bikes. Soon, he has acquired a BMX to take to the BMX track. Six months later... "I like the Jekyll, but the suspension just isn't quite enough... I bottomed out twice on my ride today." Sold the Jekyll. Next thing I know he's selling the BMX bike because he doesn't use it as much as he feels he should. Next bike was a Santa Cruz Heckler "There will never be a reason for me to get rid of this bike, I have wanted this forever." Several months later... "I really like the bike, but now that we don't live in Colorado, what I really need is something less aggressive." While still contemplating this all of a sudden one day, he bout a Giant Faith... Idk, but I think the Giant Faith was a little more agressive than the Heckler.... Now he had two bikes and took the Faith to Colorado for a good test run. Decided it wasn't the bike for him and sold the Giant. Now I'm getting fuzzy and it's weird because I'm coming up on more recent events. All I know is there is a dented bike frame from a bike that Jody loved. I can't remember if it was the Heckler or another bike alltogether. At any rate, we were heading to Colorado for a trip while living in MN and low and behold we hadn't gotten the bike rack pin in correctly and the whole thing came down WHACK on the interstate going about 70 MPH. It put a huge whammy in the frame of the... Heckler, that just seems wrong. I think it might have been a different Santa Cruz. Well, he sold all of the parts off of the frame and hung the frame on the wall and was completely bikeless for over a year. It was probably, in my estimation, the most emasculating experience of his life. We came home to Colorado, the home of Mountain biking... and he got the Santa Cruz VP Free... that was a happy man. You could not wipe the "bike grin" off of the man's face. I felt so free... Jody had a bike again, the greatest bike in the world. The ultimate bike... but alas, he couldn't use it for commuting to work, so he found a nice little commuter and then... announced to me.... that he is going to sell the VP Free because he doesn't ride it enough and he's going to take his time and get something different. I have now concluded, that it isn't about getting the perfect bike, it's about the hunt, getting to ride something different, and he can't claim that he wants something better anymore because he knows he has the best. Of course, this whole ramble is just to give the best man in the world a little hard time. I mean, after all, he is the man who moved 6 couches in and out of this house for ME in the last 9 months. That's love, tolerance and devotion there. Course it paid for the girls gymnastics so there's that too. LOL!
Anyway, we're just tuggin along, trying to wrap up our school year and today was no different. Eden's teacher sent me the upteenth email to tell me I had not done something I was supposed to. I am a teacher's worst nightmare. I forget to sign permission slips. I forget to put the Friday folder back in her bag on Monday. I forget to tell the teacher whether or not to add her to the headcount for pizza. I forget to return the library book on the specified day. I forget to take the "show and tell" item, as a matter of fact it's quite hard for me to locate the "show and tell" list so I know what "the theme" is. I forget the homework until the night before it is due and then make poor Eden slug through her whole week of matching, coloring and sentence writing in one night. I am horrid at being a school parent. Horrid. I mean well and always want to do things and participate in the classroom but I'm just a mess. Next year, I will have a day planner. I will leave it open to the next day every night before bed and I will have EVERYTHING in one place. It will be the beginning of the new me. I can just see it. Me, gliding into the girls room in the morning and gazing at their laid out clothes with pride as I gently open the shades and allow the sunshine to awaken their adorable little tow heads while I gently pad into Nicks room and gather his happiness into my arms and tug on his laid out clothing for the day. Because after all, in this fantasy, I kept track of the weather forecast and there is no need for me to dash downstairs and start the computer while simutaneously turning Jody's TV on and madly searching for the weather channel with no clue whether I'll get to weather.com or the local forecast on the news while the clock ticks and all children are still in bed with their usually clean but not folded laundry in various locations throughout the house and no thought in my mind as to where I will find a presentable shirt for Eden to wear without adornment as her dress code stipulates. No, in this fantasy of 1st grade, I will have TEN shirts for her to choose from and a little hanging stacker in her closet with days of the week on it, where she can proudly organize a whole weeks worth of clothes on a Sunday evening after our DAILY devotional and she has done her DAILY flossing and brushing. First grade will be phenonmenal. While the children naturally rise from their beds at 7:00, I'll be in the kitchen whipping up scones and bacon or waffles and scrambled eggs with fresh squeezed orange juice and a bowl of berries for good measure. As my shining children enter the kitchen (having remembered to go the bathroom BEFORE sitting down to eat) they will glow with happiness that I have made them a beautiful breakfast, there will be no "oh, blackberry scones, I had hoped you would bake blueberry..." The beauty of 1st grade will not end there. As the deadline for getting to the car approaches, from my fabulously organized coat closet I will be able to pull hats, mittens, coats and snow boots if necessary without tripping over the vacuum cleaner or the yoga mats or even the tool kit that has lost all of it's useful tools and I will snug each child into their cozy winter gear without a memory of slamming my poor baby in his jommies into his carseat with a blankie and his half finished cereal that I have poured most of the milk out of so he won't scream all the way to the school while dashing back and forth looking for my other two, one who can't find a shoe, the other who can't get the sleeve right side out in her jacket, the left hand pink mitten is missing and all she can find is her little brother's red one. And finally, in the new world of 1st grade, when we get into the car, I will have remembered to stock her bag with a snack, her water bottle and whatever various and sundry items the teacher has requested. I will not get halfway to the school before I realize my middle child is still struggling with her seatbelt, grunting and moaning completely unheard by my befuddled mind still clouded with the lack of tea and dreading the return home when I finally take the tea bag out that has been steeping for at least a half an hour. 1st grade will be phenomenal! I just know it.

Kaitlyn Belle

2009-05-11T21:50:00.004-05:00

For four years we've had the pleasure of sharing our life with Kaitlyn Belle, aka Kaity Kat, Peanut and Kay Kay. She is a bundle of energy. Typically telling everyone what to do, how to do it and when and where. She thinks she can do anything and often does everything she can to not have to do anything. LOL. I can't believe she has dimples and that amazing little white streak in the front of her hair. The button nose and high apples on her cheeks don't do the kid bad either. Sometimes I think that God was having such a good time designing Kait that he just kept adding another touch here or there for distinction and beauty. I do regret cutting her hair. I loved that long blonde hair with the curling tendrils on the ends. The bob is cute, but the long amazing shining hair was better.
Today she was playing with Nick and I overheard "Ladies and Boys and Gentlemen!"
Another hilarious but dangerous characteristic is the way she makes outrageous things up and tells them as fact. "Daddy, did you know Chinese people hold their hands like this?" "No, I didn't." "Well, they do, Grandma told me so."
Eden and I might be speculating on a subject that neither of us know the answer to, like rare animal facts. Kait will instantly jump in with something completely outrageous claiming she saw it on Animal Planet or that a highly credible source told her so. I wish I could remember a specific incident but my mind is slightly fuzzy this evening. The remainder of her mandatory million words per day are made up of telling me what she is doing and why every second. "Because" and "otherwise" are her bywords. Her diatribes are elaborate, telling me everything she pretended to say to someone when she was playing babies upstairs. She tells me what she's going to say to people and what she thinks their answers will be. She is stubborn, generous and willful. She pours herself into what she does, whether it's her gymnastics, riding her strider, sneaking up behind Nick and picking him up and squeezing him until he screams like a girl or wearing herself completely out trying to tell Eden and Nick what to do, what to say and where and how to do it. At the end of a day, Kaitlyn never tells me she isn't tired. She has lived her day to the fullest and is ready to rest. It's great. It's really awful that I can't tell people stories about her when she's around because she becomes furious, thinking we're making fun of her. Her vocabulary rocks my world and when I try to tell stories about it, she thinks we think it's funny instead of amazing.
My Kaity Belle is four and it's been a great ride. I remember that day. The one when I thought I might be in labor and the she shot into the world with a velocity that took my breath away. Thank God we had planned a home birth because Kait had already decided to be a home birth herself. She's a tornado with a sensitivity that suprises and an imagination that I've never seen in a child before or since. I'm so glad that God makes children each special and different. It makes parenting so exciting, rewarding and fulfilling. I still agonize that I don't know what to be when I grow up but at least I'll always know that I lived these years, planting flowers with my children, watching their first steps, congratulating each new word, savoring their smell, holding them in my arms each day, sharing kisses, sharing stories, hide and seek, trips to the park, watching them instead of the animals at the zoo, and of course celebrating each birthday and using it as a day to look back on all of the joy they have brought me and all of the facets they've added to the beauty of our family as they mature and metamorphasize into little people.
Happy Birthday to my Peanut!

Ahhhhh

2009-04-22T13:43:00.002-05:00

I feel so good right now. Jody's doctor had a checkup for him and said he had more cancer and sent him in for a PET scan which revealed only a couple of lymph nodes in his neck, and recommended another surgery. I am so relieved that's all there was and we have a clear picture of where we're at. Next step is to get a second opinion at Mayo Clinic and most likely schedule the surgery or treatment there. Jody's surgeon here didn't get all of the cancer out AND he was a complete jerk to me for no apparent reason. Jody says he has small man syndrome, which the endocrinologist said a little nicer. He called him Napoleon. All I know is I don't want to give him any more business.
One more thing, I'm not feeling very loquatious but this morning Kait said the funniest thing. She came down stairs and told me that she woke up and tried to lay there for a while but she was just feeling more and more "wrestless" (she said it like wrestle with ess on it) so she got up and came down stairs. Hilarious!

How do I know?

2009-03-28T17:51:00.002-05:00

How do I know that I have been a mother for six and a half years?
1.The other day I casually mentioned to Jody that the dryer didn't seem to be getting the clothes dry... I couldn't imagine what was wrong. The next day he came to me and said "Did you say the dryer had a problem?" "Yes!" I replied. "Well, it might have something to do with the fact that there was about enough lint for 10 loads in the screen."
2. On the day we went onto daylight saving's time, I actually convinced myself that the clocks were all wrong and picked Eden up 1 hour late from school. How cringingly embrarrasing.
3. The other day I was making peanut butter cookies with the girls. I completed the recipe and stood there stirring what looked like pie filling. I stirred it... studied the recipe, stirred it, grabbed the flour and dumped about a half a cup in, stirred it... continued to stare in perplexity trying to imagine my self putting puddles of peanut butter "filling" onto a cookie sheet. Finally I crossed the room to grab my tea out of the microwave and found my bowl of dry ingredients. "What the!!!!!" I dumped them into the batter and made cookies.
How do we as mother's get to this point? It's like we're beyond thinking. We live on autopilot and all reasoning skills are bypassed. I truely feel like, if I lose track of things for five minutes the whole day blows up. I might forget we need to go to gymnastics, I might forget to thaw meat for dinner, I might (heaven forbid) forget to pick Eden up from school. It's this continual grasping for what I'm supposed to do next and a blank feeling that I can't even process the babble of my great kids. How do we get through the day, enjoy it, savor the sweet moments and get everything done? And finally, for the truely daring, how do I get my house organized and remember everyone's birthdays a week early so I can send a card? It sounds so far beyond my limited skills that it makes me tremble.

2009-03-26T10:26:00.000-05:00

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Scones for dinner

2009-03-26T10:14:00.002-05:00

Yesterday Jody had to work interminably late. We decided we wanted scones and scrambled eggs for dinner. As the girls and I prepared to make the scones, Kaitlyn and I had a rather entertaining conversation. Ethan has a rat named Emmy.
Kaitlyn: Emmy is a strange name for a rat.
Mommy: Well, I think it's kind of strange for a boy rat.
Kaitlyn: No, it's a strange name for a rat.
Mommy: What would be a good name for a rat?
Kaitlyn: For a girl, I'd name her Flower. For a boy I'd name him John.
Mommy: Flower and John huh? That would be appropriate I suppose.
The scones were yummy and everyone slept well last night. Now, on March 26th we're having our first snow day of the year at school. Eden has been outside since she woke up. No breakfast, she just bundled up and headed out. I spoke with her at one point and she was covered in snow. I said "it actually looks like you've been rolling in the snow" which was an inconceivable thought to me. She just gave a quick nod and smiled. Yes, we are related I think... As the years pass, I wonder ever increasingly if in fact they did switch her at birth. I don't have that luxury with the other two since they were born at home and there wasn't anyone to switch them with.
Nicholas is upstairs right now plaintively hollering "mommy, mommy, mommy" so I guess I'm done for today.

Pics of the girls on their bikes

2009-03-20T19:05:00.002-05:00

Spring is sprung

2009-03-20T15:00:00.002-05:00

Well, the crocuses are blooming and the kids are riding bikes. I guess it's spring and thank goodness. We realized a few weeks ago that Eden has grown out of her dear Rosie bike. It was a bit of a sad realization but I promptly found her a bright purple replacement on Craigslist for $50. It was one year old and a very high end mountain bike that we could never have afforded retail. Jody picked it up and left it at our friend Luke's house while we looked for Kait's. We heard about the new thing for teaching kids to ride a bike. It's called a run bike and it's really short with no pedals so they learn to balance first, then you move them to a bike with pedals. I looked for one of those on Craigslist for Kait for a couple of weeks and then gave up and put up a wanted ad. A lady emailed me within 24 hours and sold us one for $50 again. Well, Jody was teasing Eden one night and asked her what color she wanted her new bike to be and she immediately said "PURPLE". Well, it's not exactly surprising with a little girl but it was kinda nice since that's exactly what we had found! Kaitlyn also requested a girly color but Jody explained to her that we really needed to find a neutral color and put girly stickers on it so we can hand it down to Nick and change the stickers. She thought about it for a few days and then came to him and told him that she was fine with a white bike. So, we had both bikes and Jody spent a late night getting them all clean and shiny. Yesterday he came home for lunch to suprise the girls. We were in the kitchen and heard the garage door opening so they knew he was here and everyone went running out through the garage door. Eden was in the lead and ran right past her shiny purple bike into her Daddy's arms. Kait was in the rear and paused at the top of the stairs paralyzed by the sight of the little run bike. She had a hesitant smile on her face so Eden turned and saw the run bike which was leaning against her purple bike and said "oh, cool strider for Kait!" Everyone just stood staring at Eden and then she finally noticed her purple bike. She was truely shocked. Later I asked her if her bike had a bell with it or if Daddy had moved the old one from Rosie. She promptly replied that he had moved it, she checked! I laughed and told her she had a pretty amazing Daddy. Eden's enormous eyes shined and she said "I have the best Daddy in the whole world. He's not that strong though..." I said "what?" She replied "well that's what he says all the time, that he isn't very strong." So, thank goodness he's the greatest dad and the most modest. ;-) Kaitlyn is slowly warming to her run bike but finds it a little intimidating. We're letting her take her time. Eden is zooming at high speeds on "Iris". Thank goodness she's religious about her elbow pads, knee pads and helment.
Nick is still talking Nickese. We understand "car, ball, bar, berries, mama, light and more. The rest is pure gibberish and it drives Jody nuts. He keeps asking me when Nick is going to start talking, as if I have any idea.
The girls are tumbling their hearts out in gymnastics. It's so fun to watch them. They point their little toes and hold themselves in the most fantastic posture as they practice the beam, trampoline, bars and floor exercizes. Eden can do a handstand! Kaitlyn can do hops on the beam! It's neat.
We're preparing for a big trip to Arkansas over spring break. We'll be in Mountain Home for three days and Cabot for three days. Hopefully we'll have a big family barbque while we're down there and see as much family as possible.

Professional Photos Spring 09

2009-02-28T21:30:00.003-06:00

These looked alot better after they were cropped. But these are still cute!

This should relieve some people~ ;-)

2009-02-27T21:02:00.001-06:00

I've created a new blog for my ranting. If you want the address, let me know. Otherwise, feel free and safe to continue visiting my blog for updates on my kiddo's and darling Anmchara.
Elizabeth

Ophelia

2009-02-18T20:12:00.003-06:00

On Saturday morning, my grandmother, Ophelia Hurst Davis went to be with her Lord and Savior. Grandma was an amazing woman. Many people say such of their grandmothers and I suppose they mean it, but I know it of her. She was a depression child with poor health that missed so much school it took a very long time for her to finish highschool. She never drove a car and lived most of her life without a toilet or a shower in her home. She raised six daughters on her own after doing what I consider a truely courageous thing. When her youngest daughter was 2, she divorced their father who had committed a horrible sin against her and her children. I do not condone divorce and she didn't even believe in divorce but when faced with no other choice, she did that which was never done in her society. She bore it as a mark on her for the rest of her life and of course never remarried. She suffered from many health problems but followed her instincts and her passion for knowledge and was able to live independently long past the time that most people thought she would ever live. She was an irascible and strong headed woman. If I described her in a word, I would have to say tenacious. She had a little spring on her 35 acres and believed it to be the healing waters and somehow pumped it into her house with a ram pump. As a small child, I spent countless hours at her house with my siblings and cousins. We played in the creek and broke into the old school house up the road and wrote on the chalkboard with old broken pieces of sheetrock playing school. We helped her with countless strange little chores that we didn't really understand the process of, like putting little branches and sticks in her driveway to prevent erosion. Every time someone visited her, they were given explicit instructions on exactly what she wanted them to do while they were there. I think she sat and planned every minute for me before I arrived. I remember being up in her apple tree picking each apple that she told me to. I carried hundreds of pounds of apples up to her living room, wondering what in the world she would ever do with them all. She, of course, sent more home with me than I knew what to do with either. I never visited her without demanding she make her special biscuits in a pan on the stove. She made the most amazing watermelon rhine pickles in the world. I saw some at a farmers market one day and my mouth watered. When I got them home, I realized that just because they call them that, doesn't mean they are going to be just like grandma's. She once told me she would like me to write the story of how she named her daughters. I wanted to so badly and we never did it. All I ever found out was that she wanted the name to be "The Six Little Peppers."
Over the years I've learned many things that she tried to tell me all along. RAW almonds are very good for you. Black walnut icecream and cheerios are the perfect dessert. Vinegar is an amazing cure-all. The Word of God is indispensable and life without it would not be worth living. She taught me to make dolls out of gourds and vinegar bottles. She taught me to make strings of paper dolls. She sat in front of her stove with me, letting me open her junk mail and giving me cherry vitamin-c's as a treat. She reminded me to sing to my children and share the Word with them. She bossed her whole family around, accused us of wilder things than I can imagine and yet never had to watch a soap opera for inspiration. She gave me a half of a stick of DoubleMint gum every time I saw her and never stopped clipping newspaper items for me and giving every bit of advice I would listen to. She wasn't perfect and she tended to drive all of her daughters batty but at the end of her life I can honestly say, right or wrong about all of the little things, she loved us all, and lived a life to live up to in many ways. I know I could have been a better granddaughter and spent more time with her. I know I should have written more letters, sent flowers and showed my love for the part she played in my life but I didn't. I take my comfort in the fact that she will live on in me in a million little ways and I'll pass it on to my own children. God bless my hard working grandmother who can finally rest with her savior and feel no more pain.
Finally I will share the last "clipping" she sent to me. I meant to have the pastor share it at her funeral but failed.

A Million Souls
A Million Souls for Christ our Lord,
A Million Souls a day;
Be this our goal, our heart's desire,
For this we humbly pray.

Today the world has learned to read,
No longer dare we wait;
The let us go from door to door
And witness ev'ry day.

He bade us go to all the world
And ev'ry creature, too;
Then will He not enable us
His blessed will to do?

He calls us to a great crusade,
No matter what the cost;
A million souls must be our goal,
Each day to reach the lost.
Oswald J. Smith

She wrote "A great preacher and writer " at the bottom.