Magic Mickey can't make

So the other morning Zachary came in and rolled around on the bed - absolutely gleeful. He proceeded to drive his toy cars around - across him, the pillows, and some Mommy legs he decided made excellent bridges and highways (especially with all those intersecting veins!). For him, at the moment, nothing else mattered in the world other than lying on the magical expanse - which to a two year old is a vast - of Mommy's bed in the patches of sunlight, getting to play and be with Mommy all at once.

He wasn't worried about what he was going to do five, ten, even fifteen minutes later. He wasn't concerned about whether his clothes were going to match, that he would get to watch his favorite tv show, or the computers would be available when we went to the library. Certainly whether or not he was being fed organic food without growth hormones, or that the household products from the cleansers to his bubble bath contained natural products that wouldn't cause early hormone production or cancer. Even being able to find whatever toy he was planning on playing with next was far from his mind.

In the brief recesses of my mind I remember such a carefree innocence. When playing on my parent's bed was like entering an enchanted realm. Where the only thing that mattered was what I was doing exactly what I was doing at that moment, and nothing more. When I didn't need to worry about bills, upcoming expenses, work, school, the children's education and development, weight, cholesterol, and somehow having a personality and being able to contribute to worthwhile conversation on top of it all. Oh and let's not forget going beyond the knowing the latest fashion and and make up trends to actually demonstrating them. On me.

Somehow, in between braiding hair, baby kicks, shrieks, squeals, giggles, and "I have to go pooootttyyyy!" I get envious of the care free innocence my children have. Is all the constant concern, stress, and worry just a mandatory and inherent part of being an adult, a parent?

Perhaps my problem is in my question. Worry. In the Bible, Jesus asks us to cast our cares, our worries onto him. To give over our fears, our doubt, and trust in Him. How wonderful that sounds - to be able to not worry. To be able to relax, and live in the moment, for more moments.

Sunblock Sinner

Usually I am vigilant to overly obsessive about sunblock. I buy the super -d-duper SPF 5000 and apply it the recommended time span before sun exposure, and then every two hours on the dot afterwards. I slather liberal amounts on all four children from March until the end of October - when it is usually snowing. Our family does not do any form of outside activity in the winter, or else my routine would continue.

My hyper vigilance on sunblock sprouts from many reasons. I am fair skinned and freckly (when my children are really bored or too hot to move, they connect the dots with my freckles to make constellations or spell their names - they can do both with plenty of freckles to spare). I don't tan, I burn to a searing crisp and then turn paler. Most times I could give the Cullens a run for their money - except for my porky pig pink undertones. Skin cancer is a very real danger - as the media and my mother constantly remind me. Plus it is another way for me to protect them, to try to keep them safe just that much longer before they strike out on their own and I loose my Supermommy cape.

So for over 13 years I have obsessed. Sunblock, hats, umbrellas...until this year.

This year has been different - it is the one I have let go and become a sinner. Not out of laziness, or the mere impossibility of running after four wiggly children in 90 degree weather while 8 months pregnant. That my children are generally so shockingly pale it can be disconcerting to check on them in their sleep, especially when they are sick due to the nature of their pallor may have had something to do with it, but there was more....

This year has been one of care free abandon. Safely enclosed within our cedar fenced back yard my younger children have gleefully run naked through the sprinklers and splashed in the plastic pool. This year will undoubtedly be one of the last where they are not too embarrassed of each other to do so - my older two are much more modest and splash in swim suits and shorts - but seeing the younger ones - so free and joyous in the wonder of water droplets and sunshine - it is enviable. Their skin has turned a golden tan, blond highlights streak through their hair. Like they are actual, not figurative "sunbeams" from one of their favorite primary songs.

When they are all done, I snuggle them close. I breath in the scent from the grilled dinner, the grass clippings, the water from the hose, lemonade, and the little bit of lingering baby scent that flits in on occasion and I relish it.

I don't want to hang up my Supermommy cape and become just "Mom" - but when I do, I hope that my children will remember me wearing that cape - and the glow of sunshine it helped wrap them in.

It's been a while......

So it has been a while since I posted - so long in fact that I actually forgot the name of my blog or it's url and had to go through a complicated techno - hunt in order to track it down. Now that I have it, I am going to save it in several places to make sure that if I ever go on a nine month hiatus again, I will be able to return without so much effort and brain fizzing.
Going back to the nine month hiatus, some may be wondering exactly what has been happening in that time. Others know and are laughing, snorting, and rolling on the floor as I try to maintain order, structure, and a relatively acceptable level of sanity in my busy household.
My last post was September 19, 2010....I am not even sure I remember back that far, so I am going to try to construct some sort of timeline in order to bring the blog up to a relevant time span.
September 24, 2010 - Chloe turned 7. This was celebrated with a royal gala princess party, made complete by guests in princess attire and a three tier castle cake.
October
Was busy but without incident. Chris was granted the opportunity to take the children trick or treating in the cold rain as that I was sick and relatively comatose on the couch.
November
* Harry Potter 7 part 1 came out, and in a house of Harry Potter fans, this is a big deal. I went opening night with Chris and during the weekend stood in line for an hour and a half in the rain/snow/wind/hail with Melodie so she could see it as well. It was nice to have the mother/daughter one on one time - though we were both eager to get home and into jammies when it was done.
*My grandmother died and I flew back to Michigan for four days for the funeral. I flew out of SLC early Thanksgiving morning, which involved getting up even earlier to drive through Sardine canyon in negative degree weather and blowing snow. I stayed up the night before and made the turkey, and Chris pulled together everything else with Melodie's help to make sure they had a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, even if I couldn't be there.
Even though it was under unfortunate circumstances, it was nice to have the opportunity to see my family again for the first time in over a year. I stayed with my dad and his wife Judi, which was the first visit with them without children running around like zoo animals that I have ever had. I learned a lot of family history that I never knew before, as well as viewed lots of pictures.
I also had a brief opportunity to see my mom, as well as one of my friends from Flint.
December
Christmas! I still vote that we should do the secular gift giving on December 6th, and celebrate the true meaning of Christmas over Christmas Eve and Christmas day, but this year my vote was over ruled. Of course I also voted to scale back the amount of presents received, due to that presents have to be put away and taken care of - a job that often falls to Mommy. After drafting more help from Chris and Melodie in that department, I think that I can look forward to smaller celebrations in the future.
I also had a doctor's appointment that went somewhat along the following lines. Okay so it really didn't, but it should have.
Shouldn't the flight sickness and jet lag stopped by now? Yes?
Then why do I still feel like I have both of them - all the time?
Wait a minute...no I am not peeing in a cup and you can't make me - I know what happens when I pee in cups.
Truthfully I already knew I was pregnant before I went into the doctor's office. I have a hard time believing any news story where women claim that they didn't know they were pregnant. I usually know well before that missed period because my body is very into maintaining the status quo. Any slight hormone fluctuation and all heck breaks loose. Pregnancy is definitely more than a slight hormone fluctuation.
In any event - surprise - I find out I am pregnant and due in August.
January
I turned 30. Relatively uneventful other then that. Oh yeah, I also learned how to Skype, which has eased missing my family some, and I think my parents are grateful that the disaster and activity they witness is in my home and not theirs.
Let's skip to an end of March/early April combo
We moved!!!! From a three bed 1.5 bath condo with no lawn, to a four bedroom,2 full bath, 2 living room ranch with a huge back yard. Yay! Room for a garden and to play outside - picnics - bbq's - camp outs! Hurrah! 2 car garage - big hurray as that means no more scrapping two inches of ice off the windshield or desperate prying like a rabid animal trying to open the frozen shut doors.
My van semi died, though it at this very moment really dead in the driveway, which caused me to buy a new to me vehicle - 2001 Durango. Heat and air conditioning! Room for everyone! Radio with more than five stations that the vehicle itself selects! Much happiness.
Some new furniture purchases were made - like my favorite darling breakfast nook that fits perfectly in our kitchen corner - and a changing table/dresser combination for the inhabitant of my rapidly expanding belly.
Speaking of the baby - had the big ultrasound and I am going to soon be holding in my arms a healthy baby boy!!!! Now for the name game.
May
Melodie turned thirteen - she is now an honest to goodness official teenager. I had a snotty comment to type about her age and attitude finally matching, but I can't. She really is the most amazing young lady. She is generally pleasant, and helps without being asked. I adore her, as does everyone else with good reason. We marked the occasion by giving her an Iphone 3G. Other than that she was using mine more than I was and I wanted to have my phone back, I feel she is well deserving of this present! She is supposed to have a party at some point, but we are waiting for a weekend where everyone is at least not infectious and festering, even if they aren't feeling top shape.
I started a new position at Home Depot. After being a cashier for over two years it was time for a change. Besides, now that I am in my third trimester, lifting concrete and drywall, and dealing with customers asking "Aren't you about to pop?" was beginning to be beyond my scope of tolerance. When a customer complained that he couldn't find what he was looking for and should have just gone to Lowe's, I responded that I had been having contractions for three hours and exactly what did he expect me to do about his problem? Yup, that is a good indicator that change is needed.
So now, instead of being a cashier, I am in book keeping. This means I handle counting the money, time card management, various store reports, and making sure that all the stores hardware/software is functioning. I also dropped down to part time hours instead of full time. Both of these changes are awesome, and I am the happiest I have ever been while working there. Once my training is done, I will be weekends only - and going in at 5 am. I should be home around the same time my family is getting up!

Which brings us up to current. We are in the last week of the school year and both Melodie and Chloe are excited to finally have it be over with. Melodie is looking forward to returning next year to the local middle school and entering 8th grade - she has decided the other kids - even the boys-weren't so annoying after all when compared to spending all your time with a two toddlers.

Chris and the kids built a picnic table for me for Mother's Day, and this afternoon we are putting in our raised bed garden. We are planting tomatoes, green peppers and red peppers, string beans, strawberries, carrots, onions, peas, and pumpkins. I am hoping for a bountiful harvest on the strawberries and tomatoes, and to be able to grow at least enough pumpkins that the kids can carve them for Halloween.

I am still a shutter bug, having taken over 1000 pictures since we moved in the first of April, but to post all the pics would be a cumbersome task at this point. I am going to try to sort through them and create some web albums, and then I will post the links on the side of the page.
I am so thankful for all the blessings that I have received over the past little bit. Yes, working full time, raising four kids, and being pregnant has been crazy. My kids say and do things every day that make me almost spit what I am drinking or cry because I am laughing so hard. And that is what living is all about. :)

Stolen Moments

There are times as a working mom that I long heavily for the days that I was able to stay home with Melodie and Chloe. As fall slowly arrives out here in the west, I find myself growing more nostalgic. I am envious of Chris, who is able to walk Chloe to school in the warm golden sunrises, holding her sweet little hand and getting to savor the last fleeting moments as she races towards being a big girl and being to old and cool for such things.

Wednesday I was able to drop the terrible twosome off with Melodie at the house before walking to Chloe's school and picking her up from After School Club. Holding her hand in the bright mid afternoon I was able to listen to her chipmunk chatter about school that day and her hopes for her birthday party.

Thursday morning, 6 a.m. as I sat at the table trying to shovel in my breakfast - an event that happens more often than not on my drive or while I am at work, Zachary climbed up into my lap, warm and fresh from sleeping, then proceeded to gobble my bite off my spoon. Sophie soon followed, and the two of them alternated eating my cereal until they had consumed the entire bowl. I am sure I could have poured them their own bowls, and they may have even had time to eat them, but I enjoyed the few moments in the dark snuggling them and sharing with them.

These moments are the stolen ones. The breaks in the busy insanity of working 40 hours a week and raising four kids that cause a moment of wonder and pause. A reminder of that it is not all about getting the bills paid, making sure there is clean laundry, cooked meals, and appropriate experiences for educational enrichment. Sometimes it is just about the experiences. I don't know many people who in sharing fond memories of their childhood expound upon the cleanliness of the baseboards, window sills, and stove tops. They remember the silly things like sock fights and blowing bubbles in the house, or dancing in the rain. They remember snuggly things like hot cocoa and patchwork quilts. They remember colors and feelings. I remember walking to and from school with my mother and that she wore a red coat. Now, I long for a red coat of my own.

Pressed Leaves

Melodie was recently assigned a science project that is supposed to span several weeks to complete. For this project she must collect and press ten different types of leaves and then classify them using a dichotomous key. Fantastic! I was excited about this project because it would force me to actually do the family hike that I had been planning on for the past several weeks. We live a four minute drive from a national forest, and I am always thrilled when I pass the entry sign, complete with the Smokey the Bear warning level sign for fire danger.

So yesterday we all piled in the van in the late afternoon when the weather had cooled to reasonable high 80's and drove into my least favorite canyon in the world to explore and gather 10 different types of leaves.

Here are my scientific observations:

*Even though plastic bags were brought for both Chloe and Melodie to gather leaves and interesting things they found along the way, bags should have been brought for the smaller children as well - Zachary confiscated Melodie's bag and proceeded to make crushed leaf soup.

*I let my toddlers run free without holding hands as that there was no danger of them running out in front of a car. This was immensely enjoyed by said toddlers as they ran, danced, climbed, and frolicked out in the wonders of nature.

After all what was there to worry about? If they fell, it would only be off a cliff and possibly into a rushing river. They could also sneak a poisonous berry or three into their mouths, be bitten by a poisonous snake, be stung by poisonous bugs, or garner a rash from a poisonous plant. So practically nothing to be worried about all!

*A six mile round trip hike that has an elevation change of around 500 ft is not that challenging or long generally. People ride their bikes on these trails. However, if you have two toddlers, it will take you two and a half hours to complete - and you will be packing the toddlers the last mile back.

*Sometimes not being practical can be lots of fun. The youngest members of our crew were obsessed with the river flowing next to the hiking trail. (See above reference to toppling over the edge and into river). On the way back we slid down a moderately less steep side of the cliff and threw pebbles into the water - with much excitement and glee. I probably would have even let them wade in this shallow part had a mosquito the size of a dime not landed on me and tried to suck out all my blood. Dime size mosquitoes are my cue to flee back to the safety of my urban dwelling.

*Pictures can't capture the best memories. Though I took lots of pictures and am completely convinced they could film Lord of the Rings in the canyon if they needed a back up location, the best moments were missed. Film can't capture the bubbling excitement of toddlers as they spy new leaves, rocks to climb on, or the fifth woolly bear caterpillar (who they call Holy Moly's - too much Batman). Film can't capture the feelings of contentment and peace as you walk with your family in the last glowing rays of sun. It can't capture the warmth of your three year old snuggled in your arms as you carry her back - her sweet kisses on your cheek, her chubby hands clasped around your neck, and baby bird voice chirping "I love you Mommy."

*Every kid is different. I get to make this observation about a million times a day, but it was particularly evident on the way back through the canyon. Zachary, if given a piggy back ride, will sit still and hold on for dear life - causing near strangulation for whoever happens to be the unfortunate carrier. He does not feel safe, comfortable, or confident being carried up high - even at home he does not like being lifted up to touch the ceiling. Sophie on the other hand, if someone is silly enough to give this daredevil a piggy back ride, will not only not hold on, but uses the time to demonstrate her climbing techniques and gymnastic skill. She has an amazing amount of faith in that she will not be allowed to fall and that whoever is carrying her has the competency to keep her contained. This faith is not entirely justified.

All in all, we had a lot of fun. Next time we go, we are going to hike up to the wind caves - it is a longer trip, so Melodie, Chloe, and I will be carrying packs - and toddlers, but I think we are up to it.

With experiance

There is an odd transformation that happens to mothers when they have more than three children. This is especially true when they have children in both the teenage and toddler year age ranges. Their personalities and senses of humor change. The mother who couldn't stand to let her children wear a shirt with stains on it previously no longer cares about the stain, but thinks that everyone should be grateful that there is a shirt on the child at all.

Cereal or pancakes become acceptable dinner food due to that either the meat was not removed from the freezer, or the mystery meat once cooked still resembles nothing identifiable and you are not sure whether the dead parakeet or hamster was ever taken out of the freezer to be buried when spring came.

As you watch new moms hover over their precious toddlers at the playground to ensure they don't fall or jump from a place too high, you barely bat an eyelash when your own surfs down the twirly slide or jumps from the fireman pole platform with a mighty flop and roll onto the mulch below.

There is a better understanding of the "Lord of the Flies" kids down the street who ritualistically chase each other with various lengths of PVC or sticks, depending on the day. In fact, you begin to admire the ingenious rational behind the PVC yourself, as that the "baby" carefully consumed the last four Nerf swords.

You find yourself threatening things such as "If you don't be quiet and behave I am going to sell you at the next auction I find" only to have a response of "We're not worried Mommy, we are pretty sure there won't be any bidders. Especially not after last time. "

Instead of immediately rescuing the small child who is balanced on the back rim of a folding chair on top of a container of bubble mix on top of the counter top in order to reach the top of the refrigerator, you spend several minutes searching for your camera, and then proceed to take ten or fifteen shots. You email some to your mother and father to prove that your children are indeed worse than you ever were, and file the rest in the "Grandparent's Revenge" box, that you will show your children when they complain later about some escapade their own child has managed.

Many women have made ample amounts of money detailing their family's exploits - and will continue to do so. Let's face it, they are funny and misery loves company. We love to know that we are not going insane. We are not failures. Our children are not doomed because we let them watch too much TV, run around naked, or consider using them as examples of Darwinism at its finest.

What's in a name?

All little kids go through stages where they want you to call them something other than their own name. You know, that name you spent hours pouring over books to find, and intimidated the nurse in the recovery room with as you glared over her shoulder to make sure she spelled it right? The name you cooed as you rubbed their chubby legs with lotion, and sang them lullabies. That name will sudden mean less to them then the candy wrappers they cleverly disposed of by hiding them between the seats of your couch cushions.

Sometimes the name they chose is from a favorite television show or movie character. On occasion it is that of their best friend or an idolized family member. I went through this stage for an exceptionally long period of time (there is some debate as to whether I am out of it yet - and I probably would be if I could ever conclusively decide on something else) and most of my choices came from favored books.

Sophie has now entered this stage. She started off by being rather inconsistent as to what name she wanted to be called each day. On extreme days it could even vary by the hour. One of the best parts of this game is that she refuses to tell you straight off what to call her. Instead she makes you guess, and doesn't respond or acknowledge your presence until you hit the right one. There is quite the lengthy list to choose from, and considering that she often requires combinations such as "Princess Ladybug" or "Her royal queen Sophie Christine" this can be very time consuming. I swear she didn't answer me the other day until I called her "Your royal highness grand supreme dictator of the ultimate and unlimited dominion."

The name she seems to have stabilized on the most consistently though as of late is, ironically enough "Abby." I could blame the adorable pink muppet with magical powers, or the fact that she spends enough time at the doctor's office that they could add a new wing through her bills, and all "official" forms have her as "Abigail." I could blame my six year old, who has never fully accepted calling her Sophie. But I can't blame Chris, who out of respect for me, or perhaps fear of the now perfected glare of doom, refers to her only as "Ladybug."

She insists that her name is Sophie Abigail, and that we must call her "Abby." To her father, she recently retorted that she was not a bug, and not to call her one. Surprisingly, I am okay with this recent development. More so than I thought I would be. It could be because Abigail is actually a rather pretty name, just not the name I wanted. Or it could be that Sophie is a force of nature not to reckoned with, and far more stubborn than I am.

I have thought about dropping her middle name, and just having her be Abigail Sophia Stewart, but that leads to rather unfortunate initials. It seems hyphenating it may be my best option at this point - Abigail-Sophia Christine Stewart. Quite a mouthful really, but a name that befits a royal princess - which she believes she is. I tried "Sophiegail" but that was quickly squashed.

Amazingly enough this sort of disorderly conduct when it comes to names is fairly common. My home teacher, when I was relaying this ordeal, said that his brother went through something similar. His mom always called him by the first name, and the dad called him by the middle name - and now his brother switches between the names dependent on the situation (one is more professional sounding than the other)

I, out of habit, still refer to her as Sophie despite her requests. Which could be why she did not stop coloring on her brother when I politely asked "Sophie" to stop, why she continued to play with her brother's GI Joe that she commandeered to go with her Barbies at bedtime, and why she continued to drive his toy truck filled with LGM's despite his pleas and my insistence that she let him play with his toys. That, or it could be an inherent natural desire to torture her younger sibling merely because he is last in line in the birth order.

Reasoning not withstanding, basically feel free to call her whatever you choose. When she is old enough, she will probably choose something entirely different from what any of us call her anyway, merely because she can.

One, two, switcharoo

So, with our family already being in an unconventional circumstances, we add in some massive role reversal just for kicks.

Chris babysits the babies, or rather terrible twosome tyrannical toddlers, everyday while I am at work. He helps Melodie and Chloe get off to school, and picks up Chloe at the end of her school day. He kisses boo boos, dries tears, cooks dinner, and often has helpers in the kitchen baking up treats like cupcakes or brownies - something verboten in our house generally. He is soft spoken, easy going, and yet somehow manages to try make sure bed times get obeyed and prayers are offered before too many bites of the meal gets eaten.

I work, somewhat begrudgingly depending on the day, as a hardware store drone. That being said, it keeps the bills paid, food on the table, and a roof over our heads. I am boisterous and loud, with some of my favorite phrases being "Shake it off," "Tough it out" or "Suck it up soldier." (Bet you can't tell I was raised as a military brat! ) I wrestle with the kids extensively, which is why our coffee table, meant for quieter entertainment, like board games and coloring, spends more time pushed out of the way in the bathroom then in the living room where it belongs. Though spending time as additional towel rack/clothes closet doesn't seem to be damaging it much, I am beginning to wonder the wisdom behind that investment to begin with.

I leave tools precariously about. My father can vouch for this, as he more than once wondered exactly why the hammer was being stored in the nursery. (I had been hanging up shelving). I take pride in being "handy" and fixing things, and as of late have seemed to imagine myself being some type of carpenter as that our minimal valuable storage space is being taken up with wood for my "projects."

As mild mannered and easy going as Chris is, I come with a warning label "Caution : extremely volatile. Does not live well or play well with others."

He shakes his head and laughs at my own somewhat harebrained antics. Asserts that because of me, Melodie is never going to have a proper teenage rebellion. Blue hair? Sure honey - if you add white highlights it would be super cute. Skulls and black? Look at the cutest shirt I just found! The skulls are shiny and even have wings! Nose ring? When you save up enough money dear, and I even found a stud that's a butterfly. Due to the recent conversation on tattoos, Chris's new mantra is "Your body is a temple."

Let it be said that I am not trying to be Melodie's best friend on these issues. I just feel that there are bigger issues to worry about in life than hair color and fashion choices. Perhaps teaching 8th grade in Flint and watching children just a little bit older than her sell drugs and prostitute themselves out made me feel this way. Or perhaps the knowledge that when she knows she isn't going to shock me, it won't seem as cool and she will moves on from whatever stage into the next one and one day revert back to being something a little more shelf stable, preferably human like.

All in all, having Chris back in our lives has been beneficial. Financially, it is saving me money and allowing me to consider other options in terms of employment and education. Having him around allows me more quality time on a one and one basis with each of the children, especially Melodie. He gets some of my errands done for me while I am at work, which allows me to come home and actually be with my kids, instead of running around like a crazed chicken until everyone is overtired and hungry. Church attendance for our family has drastically improved, as that he can help corral, cajole, and corner whichever children are healthy enough to go.

Everyone has already learned to ask him first for permission. He is beginning to learn to ask me before answering, and once he does, I am sure he will be able to return that flame retardant suit to the nice men down at the local station.

Because because because

I have developed an unusual relationship with the father of my children. Some may think it unreasonable that I even talk to the man whom fathered three children with me. Our relationship before he left was tumultuous on the best of days. When Eminem raps about a "tornado meets a volcano" he pretty much had us pegged.

The circumstances of of his leaving our family three years ago were grievous. The recovery afterwards was costly - emotionally and financially. So why on earth would I let him back into our lives?

*Because after weighing the lawyer costs and court fees in order to hold off the inevitable, I decided that the best financial option was to work out an arrangement between ourselves.

*Because I needed help and a break. After being on my knees so much that I have permanent carpet indentations asking for some kind of assistance or relief, this option was offered to me.

*Because my babysitter makes almost five hundred more a month that I do to watch just Zachary and Sophie.

*Because my oldest daughter needs the opportunity to be a kid and not the surrogate parent that is an inherent part of being in our situation.

*Because to one very special little girl, her daddy remains her superhero - complete with cape and the ability to leap large buildings in a single bound.

*Because people make mistakes. Sometimes these mistakes are rather large and hurt those around them. But people also can learn from their mistakes, changing and becoming a better person afterwards.

*Because all are forgiven in Christ.

*Because sometimes when you are outnumbered, it is nice to have an ally.

*Because if not for any other reason, I receive a certain amount of maniacal comic relief as I am regaled with tales of typical two year old antics that are normal fare for me, but totally new to him. Add in a moody cynical teenager and a six year old prima donna, and I get a deranged satisfaction out of a) being right about things 97% of the time, especially when he insists on trying things his way first and b) not telling him the right way first and watching him figure it out.

Pincushion empathy

I have discovered a new shared identification with anything that gets routinely poked, such as a pincushion, or is full of holes, such as a colander. In fact, this identification is the whole reason I now have the time and ability to update the blog that most feared I had abandoned.

Recently as I edge closer and closer to thirty, I decided to take a better look at my over all health. Truthfully I spend so much time taking my children to the doctor's office that I have spent more time in waiting rooms than I care to. I even have my own personally embossed chair. There is a whole list of things that need to get done, and that I would rather get done, such as alphabetizing my food storage, than sit in a waiting room when it was not made mandatory by such fun things as strep throat, ear infections, and what one child still claims was a vagrant strand of a the mathallergonic plague.

But if you use the analogy that the human body is like a car - mine was long overdue for a routine oil change and tune up. It took me years to figure out regular vehicle maintenance schedules for my actual vehicle, so it makes sense that it took even longer for me to figure out such things for myself.

Just like I would like my van to last at least another 100,000 or so more miles, I would like my body to last another 60 years. So I begrudgingly went in to both the doctor's office and the dentist - I am smart enough to know that good oral health helps maintain good overall health. Plus I still had that lingering wisdom tooth issue.

End result? The removal of two suspicious looking moles from my shoulder. They turned out to be nothing of concern, though it would have been nice to have been told that green is normal in the healing process when they use silver nitrate. My cholesterol is a little high, so I have a prescription for that - but other than that things are looking swell.

The dentist office on the other hand was not as cheerful. I had the top two wisdom teeth removed at the end of July. Not the most comfortable procedure, but necessary in that it helped reaffirm my loathing of jello and inconvenient inability to tolerate pain killers stronger than infant tylenol. Determined to get in touch with my inner masochist, two weeks later I went in for a cleaning and exam. I dragged not only myself through this, but all four of my children in back to back bright and early appointments.

My children had beautiful teeth, but I failed miserably with five cavities of my own. Whether sticking in the Shepard's hook repeatedly causing me to have cartoon like spasms and my eyeballs to pop out and stick to the ceiling was required to determine this in under debate. As that the dentist I saw for cleaning was a different partner in the practice than the one who had originally removed my upper wisdom teeth, he claimed he was up to the rather cumbersome challenge of removing my bottom wisdom teeth - a simple procedure of shaving off a chunk of the jawbone and surrounding teeth and completely avoiding the entwined nerves.

I was privileged enough to participate in this joyful experience yesterday. Sparing too many details of the event, other than it took an hour and a half to remove one of the two teeth, and I was not numbed again for the second one, I now have two more expensive holes in my mouth for my greater good.

Okay I can't resist sharing a few more details, and later I can just claim I was under the influence of some very strong Tylenol 3's. The only medication of the various options that dentist presented that I was willing to take.

It hurt. A lot. At one point my tooth shattered, sending shards impaling the interior of my mouth and also clogging their vacuum suction thingie.

The tools they use look archaic and vaguely representative of those I saw in my western civilization class when we studied medieval torture methods. I resent having a tool referred to as a cow-horn - think small shoehorn - used to remove my teeth.

I don't like nitrous being used - the mask on my face makes me claustrophobic, and I am such a control freak that I would rather endure the pain than feel the slightly fuzzy feeling - which I managed to relay to the dentist while he was using a bite block and had four fingers in my mouth.

I spent much of the time mentally trying to invent new tools and techniques that would make the whole thing more humane, especially since I know for certain there is no way that Sophie would be able to tolerate it. Doing so allowed me to remain distracted from the reflective image in the dentist's safety glasses, or that my blood was spattered on his forehead, and glasses, and face mask and and and. It was harder to ignore when he got up mid procedure to cleanse and change.

I choked at least four separate times on my own saliva and blood. This experience reminded me that it is actually possible to drown from two tablespoons of water. I was determined to survive however, as that dying by choking on your own blood without a good drug addiction seems wrong somehow.

It is never comforting to hear your dentist say "I met my match with this one."

Bloggy bites

It has been almost four months since I posted my last entry. I have meant to post. I truly have. This lengthy time span has no real justification. I have not been exceedingly busy, or at least no more so than the average single mom of four children spanning teenage and toddler years. School let out for the summer and is now back in session. We did not go camping like we had planned, and after experiencing almost two and a half months of 96-99 degree weather straight, other fun trips that were planned were put off until the chances of frying to a crisp lessoned. We celebrated Zachary's second birthday - giving me the pleasure of having two two year old children, for at least a brief period of time.

Not being exceedingly busy does not mean that we haven't had anything happen though. In an effort not to overload anyone with information, I am going to attempt to post everything in little bite size pieces. I make no guarantees about consecutive order or coherency - both being affected by the reason for my ability to catch up on the posts at last.

And we are back on air

I recently just went a week without at home internet access. The withdrawl symptoms have ebbed somewhat, but I am grateful to be able to yet again indulge. There have been events and moments to blog about, emails to send, bank accounts to manage, and facebook postings to update. More importantly I missed my friends. I have so many friends that are awesome and busy moms like me - and it is nice to be able to send a quick im to catch up while I am getting the 10,000 other things that need to be accomplished done.

This past week has been one of ups and downs, like most weeks. Tender moments where Sophie asked to go to the library, or Zackie helped me make banana bran muffins (mainly because he peeled an entire bunch of bananas - letting him mash them afterwards probably is not going to serve as a deterrent for this kind of behavior in the future) Funny moments when Sophie announces to the entire DI that we have find the potty so she can go pee pee - an act she refuses to do outside of the public restroom environment, or Zackie insisting on getting kisses with every snip of the scissors while getting his hair cut. Trips to the park and terrible two times two tantrums.

As the seasons open a new chapter and spring turns into summer (that is if you are lucky enough to get spring; we are still getting the occasional snowfall) my tiny little brood and I are also opening new chapters. Chloe and Melodie both move up a grade in school, and Melodie is already busy with the young women at church. Sophie should be starting preschool in the fall, and for the first time, Zackie and Sophie will be separated during the day. There are many changes happening for us over the new few months.

"Life is change. Growth is optional. Choose wisely." - Anonymous

Conference Calamity

Apparently last week was setting to the tone for how things are going to be for a while...

Today was stake conference - and everyone in my family was incredibly excited because it was being held in the tabernacle. This excitement did not transfer into motivation however, so as usual we were running late to conference, even though I started getting them ready two hours before it began.

We entered the building from the back, which unfortunately is the direction everyone is facing when they are seated inside. We try to scurry as unobtrusively as possible up the stairs to the balcony on the north side - which was packed. The usher decided the best place to put us was right up front, which is indicative that the usher has never personally had small children. As soon as we are seated, after crawling other members, I realize what a terrible plan this is. For starters, we are in view of everyone present, because not only are we up in the first row of the balcony, we are also closest to where the podium is - so people cannot avoid looking at us. Also, right in front of us is the railing - which translates into a giant climbing bar in the hearts and minds of my small children. They immediately grab hold of it, and do everything possible to try to climb over and fall to their dooms. I manage to distract them for about seven minutes with fruit snacks and sippies, as well as the lift the flap books that I had brought along. This calm respite did not last, and soon they were trying to climb again, and arguing profusely at loud volumes with me about restraining them. I dig out the paper and crayons from the diaper bag, which again provides a calming influence, but this time the respite is briefer - Zackie decided the railing would look lovely with a lime green color streak and Sophie sent her crayons catapulting over the edge to land on unsuspecting attendees below.

When the climbing begins again, I direct Melodie to take Sophie down, out, and around the building to sit in the rows below - thinking that she would sit next to one of the families from our ward. Melodie disappears and I am unable to locate her - but never mind because I am still dealing with the willful force that is Zachary. He is content to color, look at books, climb onto the pew behind us, and play footsie with the beautiful young blond girl that was sitting next to us for some time, with only minor issues. His playful singing during the hymns and clapping afterward garnered some amused chuckles. I was even able to make the observation of how beautiful it was to sit in the tabernacle and look out the windows at the snow capped mountains and green trees.

It is shortly after this point that Zackie notices Melodie and Sophie sitting in the balcony on the south side. "Mei Mei I see you! " he yells loudly at a time opportune due to its quietness. He continues to yell for Mei Mei, even after she vacates from the south side balcony in pursuit of Sophie. Deciding the easiest way to get to her would be to fly, he returns to trying to jump from the railing. The squirming in his tantrums kept unbuttoning my shirt - but thankfully Melodie appeared to get something from the diaper bag, and took Zackie with her back to Sophie. Chloe curled up against me, and with twenty minutes left, it looked like we were going to make it through conference in moderately good form, or at least in one piece.

Then I notice movement on the main level up near the podium - sure enough, Zackie, happy, confident, and smiling, was making his way up to talk from the podium - and trapped in the balcony, there was nothing I could do to stop it.

There is a redemptive light though. Behind the podium is where the choir sits, and a friend who is also a sympathetic mom of multiple toddlers retrieved Zachary and was able to meet me at the balcony stairs with him. I told Chloe to stay in our seat, and went off to find Melodie and figure out exactly why and how Zachary was able to escape and make it to the podium. Doing this without causing more interruption required me to exit the building, go around to the front, and re enter. I enjoy the quick walk, with Zachary chattering along in the sunshine and the cool breeze ruffling our hair. As I come back in the building, I glance up in the balcony area to see how Chloe is doing, and find her dangling over the balcony herself. I communicate as best as possible in rapid hand gestures for her to sit back, and go back to trying to find Melodie.

I found her and keeping the babies with me, ask her to get Chloe. Sophie and Zach use this time to try to open every locked door on the lower level below the main seating area. By the time Melodie and Chloe return, only the closing hymn and prayer are left of conference, so we can leave a little early guilt free.

We head out the doors into the sunshine and begin the short trek to the van, which had to be parked across the street, down the road, and over a hill. Feeling that the calamity has come to an end, I even agree to let Sophie and Zach walk on the sidewalk without holding anyone's hand. Zackie is in sock feet, because he loathes anything actually touching his toes, but socks wash and it is a beautiful day. A beautiful day following a blustery one that rained and snowed...which means there are puddles. At this point I am guilty of being an adult, and forgetting that puddles have irresistible gravitational pull - they simply demand that you jump up and down in them. As you can imagine, literally five feet from the van is an enormous puddle and before my ninja reflexes can react, Zackie was gleefully making splashes and ripples.

Which leads me to where I am now. The kids were fed a quick lunch of lemon sautéed cod, herbed rice, and asparagus then sent to bed. Where they hopefully will stay for quite some period of time, because we are having triple chocolate cake and ice cream tonight.

Curling up under a rock please!

So this past week has been a dousy - one that really should have been turned into a comic strip.

Monday - gave small toddlers Nutrigrain bars to snack on during the ride to daycare. Note: Small toddlers do not actually like said Nutrigrain bars. While getting Sophie out of her car seat, she stealthy flung the Nutrigrain bar onto my seat without me noticing. Running pressed for time as I get back in the vehicle, I do not check the seat for any such items. Turn up the music and dance in my seat while driving to work to get me pepped up for the day. Go into building, clock in, and proceed with normal work day for over an hour. During this time I also dance around to the music playing on the pa system. Go to help a customer and slide my thumbs into my back pockets - at which point my fingers stick to the outside of the pocket. Made worse when I realized the flavor selection was strawberry.

Tuesday - Agreed to purchase a used computer desk from an advertisement posted on KSL (think craigslist type thing) Owner is located in a small town about 30 minutes away (supposedly) on the other side of the canyon. Head out late to pick up desk due to Zackie having a case of monkey syndrome and mistaking me for a tree. Drive down, as usual getting the moderate amount of amusement that there are horses and cows grazing along the main highway - meaning stick out your hand and touch them close. See sign advertising "Fresh Pork and Lamb" and notice that said animals happen to be happily lolling about underneath. Enter the canyon and observe a flashing sign announcing "Use caution - wildlife on roadway." They weren't joking either - lots and lots of wildlife was running about in broad daylight.

Get through canyon of doom and pass by the store that is "Tropical fish, craft and hobby, custom word carvings" all in one, which is conveniently located next to the goat farm. Realize I am way too much of a city kid for all of this outdoorsy/country stuff. Go to purchase desk and owner cannot make change, but assures me that there is a gas station a couple miles up if I make a right at the stop sign. Good - because there hasn't been a gas station or anything but fruit stands and a fresh beef market for over 20 miles.

I have no faith that the gas station in question actually exists. I drove for 20 minutes, got soundly lost, and ended up at Smith and Edwards - which is also an ace hardware, cowboy supply and military surplus shop. Their motto is that "We've got everything - you just have to find it." They do have everything - much to my amazement and amusement. Parachutes, diapers, bullets, a taxidermed bear, saddles, bridles, lassos...I got lost and couldn't find the exit for several minutes while inside the store. But it was really fun looking at things I had never even seen in person before. The wall of mounts was a little disturbing - as was the fishing lures that were bigger than any fish I have ever caught. Decided that I would have to bring the kids there on a rainy day just to explore and play - it could probably kill at least six or seven hours.

Left my cash in the car, so I figured I would just get change from my debit card - wrong answer.

Find my way back to the owner's house and head the other way in search of a gas station. Find one, get change, and get the desk. All in all, the one hour trip took two and a half. Figure as long as my evening is shot, might as well get my hair trimmed and pick up a few things at Walmart once I get back to the "city." (Have I ever mentioned that Midland is a metropolis compared to Logan? If I haven't, I am now.) Ignore the "falling rock" sign as I drive back through the canyon.

Hair was trimmed without incident, except for an excessive wait. Went to Walmart and was actually able to remember everything that I have been meaning to pick up and get it into my cart - the replacement tube for Chloe's bike tire, the bath tub plug, (hair dye kit - comes into play later), wash cloths, milk and so on. I didn't mention that it was storming on this particular day. Walmart looses power. Walmart looses back up generator power. Employees are sent scurrying through the dark asiles, sans flashlights but using cell phones for light, to get everyone to the front to check out while the registers run off auxiliary power. Unfortunately they can only use the two lanes they had open, and the registers at the jewelry, electronics, and customer service counters are already down. Wait in line for twenty minutes - at which point the last registers go down and everyone is escorted from the building without their merchandise.

Wait! There is another Walmart. We have nothing except two Walmarts, a Kmart, Sam's Club, and Shopko. I ask if anyone knows the number to the other Walmart to see if their power is down as well. Another customer ends up calling his wife to ask after the employees fail to locate the other store's phone number or a phone book. They have power. Yay!

Drive to other end of town and go into Walmart. Forget 90% of what I remembered at the other store.

Wednesday - Got through day moderately okay. Ran late in the morning, and late back from lunch due to Chloe deciding that changing from shoes to sandals was an emergency and she could not leave school to be dropped off at daycare before it was done. Decide to put computer desk together - when tipping it upright, Melodie gets distracted and computer desk drops onto my thigh - making a two inch cut and a bruised area the size of a soft ball. Ouch. The computer desk does not fit in the intended area, so all furniture in the living room now has to be moved so that the computer can reside in an area where people will use it and it won't hack up lint balls from the dryer.

Thursday - Went fine, and got a lot accomplished. Well except for some issues with Department of Workforce Services, which is like the Department of Human Services in Michigan. They decided to close my case due to not having enough paperwork in the verification process. I called and said "Hey, you never notified me you needed this paperwork. More than happy to give it to you - mind giving me an extension before you close my case and leave my children without medical coverage?" Their answer " We don't send out notifications of what additional paperwork we need from you - we just automatically close your case. Get the paperwork in when you can, but we are not going to back date any coverage." Good to know. Unfortunately it is all paperwork I do not have and I require from Michigan, and they won't fax it. NO ONE gets to break anything or get sick until this is straightened out.

Decide that it would be a great time to dye my hair with a dye from the box. Normal people probably would have reviewed the week, which also included stepping on tacks, getting fingers smashed, hair dryer breaking, and the laptop now being so outdated that it is incompatible with itself, and said, you know maybe not. But I was not deterred and carried on as planned.

Friday - woke up at 6:50 to the sound of Chloe playing on the computer (which she is not supposed to touch without permission) and the realization she had turned off my alarm. I have to be to work at 7:00. Tell said child that she will be talked to later, and run around in frantic frog (Kermit from the Muppets) fashion getting myself and small children ready to go and out the door. Look into mirror while brushing hair - OMG there is a calico cat on my head. Nope, that is just my hair...

Get to work and realize that the normal tooth pain I have been dealing with for over a year is now unbearable. Really really unbearable. I cannot even drink water, and food has become my enemy. Informed my manager that I was going to have to leave, and started calling around for appointments to get in on an emergency basis. Found one at a reasonable time and price, and went it at 10:45. It seems that my wisdom teeth are not wise, but the epicenters of evil - with live tissue and nerves exposed. The dentist thinks that it does not need a surgical referral and he can just extract it at his office...could I come back at 1:00? Sure. About this time I remember that not only was Melodie's birthday party tonight (which I hadn't forgotten) but she was also having friends spend the night (which I did forget). Use time in between the appointments to pick up popcorn, popcorn flavorings, pop, and other supplies for the hoard of teenage girls that are due to invade my house in the evening. Go back to the dentist.

I have never had a problem with needles. Nope, I am one tough chickie. Then again, I have never had to have needles stuck into my gums before either. Decide that this is not going to become a new hobby. After completely numbing the left side of my mouth, the dentist concluded he cannot do the extraction after all. Instead he sands down my bottom teeth (you know, the teeth that are highly sensitive to little things like temperature and such, they aren't helped by sanding) and then breaks open my wisdom teeth, puts in a medicine capsule, and cements them closed. This should help for anywhere between a week and a couple months, but I schedule an appointment in July to have my wisdom teeth removed anyway. Yes, that is plural because though I went in for my left side, he did this same procedure on the top right side as well. By the way, it was observed by all the staff that my wisdom teeth are unusually far back in my mouth. So I end up paying over two hundred dollars to fix teeth that are coming out in two months. This isn't as thrilling as it sounds.

The left side of my mouth and my tongue remained numb into Saturday morning, which made it difficult to eat or talk.

On the plus side, Melodie had forgotten to invite her friends to spend the night, and so it was just a party with giddy girls watching movies, eating popcorn, and playing on the Wii. Everyone had fun, and everyone went home - leaving me moderately free to curl up under a rock and come out when the world promises to be nice again. Just as soon as I marinate the chicken, take Chloe to her friend's birthday party, scrub the bathtub, flip the laundry.....

Keep Walking....

Windows open and warm breezes blowing, I sit down and realize I am so sore! We finally are starting to be consistently warm - it hasn't even snowed in over a week :) With the onset of warm and sunny weather, we have been outside playing at parks and walking everyday. Our multiple trips during the week to the library have become adventurous excursions as that we have been walking and choosing different routes - added adventure points due to keeping toddlers in strollers, retrieving objects thrown in a projectile fashion from said stroller and their hands off shelves.

I can't believe how quickly my children are growing. When I snuggle Zackie while putting him to sleep, he still seems like a little baby, but yesterday at the park he refused to go down the slide - saying "No - too high! Too high!" Sophie charged this same slide, which does send you down at an amazing velocity, (it is a tube style twirly slide, and the kids literally pop out the end) even when she came out the bottom with a bump and ended up landing face first on the mulch chips. Everyday they grow more independent and say things that surprise me - such as Sophie pointing out accurately a hawk in the sky.

Melodie is going to be 12 in a couple weeks. She is, as she always has been, just absolutely amazing. I am so excited for her to be entering this point in her life - where she gets to visit the temple, participate in young women's activities, go to girl's camp, and start exploring in depth who she is, and who she really wants to be. At the same time, I wish I could hold on tight to her childhood years just a little bit longer. I miss the little girl who cuddled on my lap for stories and snuck in to sleep with me at night.

Chloe is as vibrant as sunshine. She too is growing up far to quickly for my taste. She can read stories on her own now, and has been practicing her cursive and multiplication tables. She has been having a few struggles, such as being diagnosed with ADHD (which left me giving a flustered apology to her counselor after responding "Ya think" when this diagnosis was revealed) and still suffering from some lingering depression we can't seem to shake. But for the most part we have good days, and are excited for the sunny weather when she can ride her two wheeler bike without training wheels.

And so life continues to be good and bless us. With the warmer weather and sunshine we are greeted with amazing scenery - perfect blue skies with cotton ball clouds and backdropped by snow capped mountains. It is beautiful, peaceful, and soul satisfying.

Quoth the Raven

I almost, almost have gotten used to that there are big black ravens out here, and that they have the disturbing habit of landing on the hood of my van while I am praying and cawing surreptitiously. It would be a little more helpful had I not read all those Edgar Allen Poe, Charles Dickens, and Agatha Christie books. I miss cardinals and blue jays, but their replacements have been ever so much more fun. FAT little quail run around in abundance, and it is not uncommon to see pheasants running through the neighborhood yards, or for that matter, wild turkey. At least I know that if hard times come, I won't go hungry....of course that is if all the other gun owning citizens in the valley don't get them first.

It is definitely a different world here, where pretty much everyone owns guns (more than one and legally) and they look at me like I have three eyes and antenna when I mention I don't. That fact is probably going to change, plus I am enrolling the girls in hunter's safety classes. The average person starts shooting and gun ownership out here around the ages of three or four (even the girls - I asked my Bishop's wife, and she said she was three). I don't want my children to cause an accident or worse because they don't know anything about guns or are uncomfortable with them.

Yesterday was a beautiful day. Unfortunately we didn't go outside to enjoy it because my children have continued their strike on cleanliness, and I decided to hold them captive until rooms were clean. Of course that means today, with rooms clean and furniture moved, is an absolutely dreadful chilly and overcast day and taking the perpetually coughing and consistently nose running gruesome threesome of my four children outside to walk around barns and play with brand spanking new farm animals is probably out of the question. But then, if we bundled up and went today, we could avoid the crowds sure to accompany one the highest anticipated events for kids in the valley.

Along with getting the rooms clean, I managed to go through Zackie and Sophie's closets and in a burst of rebellion packed away the heaviest of the winter clothes for next season. I know it is early to do so, but I can't help but try and be optimistic. It has snowed continuously since I moved here, and snow and I are no longer on speaking terms. I also managed to pull out the stray too small clothes, and the clothes that they own but I will never ever let them wear, and should they appear on my child in my presence the result is altogether unpleasant.

Today's list of excitement on the "staycation" - inoculations, bank, WIC clinic (anyone who has ever had to go knows that you need to take camping supplies and food for three days - I have been there over nine hours before) Sam's Club (thanks to free one day passes deposited in my shopping bag at Wally World), library, possibly the DI or another thrift store, and then, if I am feeling real adventurous Target. I have not suddenly struck it rich, in fact just the opposite - I haven't gone shopping other than for groceries in a long enough period of time that we may need to use those t-shirts that have become new members of the rag pile (thanks to red crayons and dryers) as cloth diapers if I don't go. We also need to replace the newly inducted t-shirts and pants. And come up with art supplies less likely to be hiding in tiny nubs inside children's pants pockets.

Some may not have heard my bitterness over that the closest Target is through the dreaded canyon and an hour away, but in case you haven't, I am bitter and periodically suffer symptoms of severe Target withdrawal - especially since diapers, diaper rash ointment, and fruit snacks - all necessities at the moment, are cheaper there. I know that they are non veteran or charitable organization friendly, but due to that their associates are not perpetually incompetent or unfriendly, their prices are comparable or cheaper, and their product is superior, they remain on my favorite store list. How I long for the good old days where there were three Targets within a five minute highway drive from my house - none of that driving requiring navigation through a canyon of doom. But I suppose that I do have something like 15 tractor and farm supply stores - including one that sells tractors in a variety of designer shades, is something to be grateful for.

Golly gee Goliath

As some may or may not know, I am in charge of our "Orange Embrace" program at work. It is not a position I particularly enjoy or stay in voluntarily, but since it pleases that powers that be, so I remain. This often means that my register area is covered completely with paper, markers, glue, and other things that make it resemble 3rd grade arts and crafts. A customer of mine noticed that I was drawing different people and asked if I was an artist. No was a quick response from my lips, but he pressed onwards. His ward is going to be doing a talent show, and he needed help making a life size replica of Goliath. I am not an artist, I maintained, but would be more than happy to help the best I could.

So that is what I found myself doing bright and early in the sunshine this morning for three hours - marking out Goliath's massive form. His head is now gingerly shoved behind my seat for me to work on here at home - making it as three dimensional and fearsome as possible. When I got home, Melodie asked me if I was done with Goliath. No, I sighed in response, there would still be several hours of painting and reworking before Goliath will reach his complete splendor and be presented on the 23rd in the talent show.

"Mom," she replied in exasperation, "Why is it taking so long to make a giant pickle?"

Sunshine and sandwiches

I was hit with the sudden realization the other day that my children are all...well...children. Though this may sound odd, for the first year and a half or so of life, depending on the child, children aren't really children. They are instead a living force somewhat resembling something imagined by Jim Henson and his amazing muppet people that though hitting milestones and developments, still depends on you for absolutely everything. Their likes and dislikes are relative to what you have exposed them to, and what will garner approval from you. Then all of sudden one day they turn the switch from automatic to manual, and from that day forward, you have one wild, breath taking, and fabulous ride. Zachary hit this point a few days ago - and our lives haven't been the same since.

Today is the third day of my official "staycation." It was supposed to be a vacation, but alas it was not in the cards. Rather than picking up shifts at work, I decided to enjoy the time with the kids - our first real down time since moving out here. Monday we walked to the park and the library, and were rained on for the walk home. Tuesday we stayed inside - huddled together against the four inches of accumulated snow outside, and today was library and park again. Though seemingly a mundane pattern, it still was filled with moments of surprise - like surprise that wet spot on the couch was not from the leaking sippy as previously thought.

Sophie has been speaking in complete sentences for a while now, and last night recited the whole entire story of the three little pigs, complete with plenty of "huff and puff." Zachary is still doing one word at a time, but has mastered inflection, proper response, and sarcasm. (Being pushed on the swing while he laid on his stomach garnered a "wee" with as much enthusiasm as one might expect if he was being presented a spoonful of cod liver oil) Since he can say words like "dinosaur" and has been able to for a while, I suspect there is more vocal capability there then what he is demonstrating, but prefers to present himself as the strong and stoic type.

If he is going to carry off the strong and stoic thing, he is probably going to have to ditch the motto "Everyone deserves a little sparkle" especially when carried out with mass amounts of rhinestones, glitter, and his sister's tutus. We are currently trying to focus this energy in the direction of pirates and musketeers...and I personally am thrilled with his new penchant for trains...though trying to explain that not everything is a train or destined to make the choo choo noise has been a little more difficult....

Beheaded Barbie is indeed Broken - brought to you by the letter "B"

Sophie came up to me just a few minutes ago with a head in one hand and a body in the other and informed me that her "Barbie broke." The title of this post was my response. Poor Barbie, we loose so many good ones that way....

Aside from the lessons on decapitation and plastic resiliency, we had quite an enjoyable weekend this weekend, which was a well deserved variance from the chaos that has dominated the past few before this.

For those that don't know, Melodie's dad has recently moved out to Utah, only about an hour away. This provides a unique situation, since we have not resided in the same state, let alone within reasonable driving distance, since she was a year old. Prior to February 5, she had not seen him since 2006. Right now we are trying to establish a workable comprehensive visitation arrangement, but needless to say there are inherent bumps and spills along the road.

Couple the changes in circumstances with potty training, teeth loosing, school registration, summer sport sign up, inoculations, and the flu that will not leave, and our well was running a little dry....so despite airline tribulations, having my friend Chris from Phoenix visit was a great respite.

The kids and Chris got to experience some new things together - we went to Angie's, a local restaurant that is the very pinnacle representative of small town everybody knows everybody atmosphere, which is also conveniently a block from my house. Angie's is always busy - but the kids were awesome.

This was followed with our first trip to Willow Park Zoo, a cute little zoo here in town that I can't wait to go to again. I think it is a safe bet to say that we will be spending many spring and summer evenings there, as well as at the adjacent park and play area.

Some of the most fun was probably found in the flurry of excitement from some sword play - Nerf style. Chris purchased four Nerf swords on Friday night at Walmart, and as most of you saw on my Facebook page, plenty of enjoyment followed.

Time machines, memories and dreams

"We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams" - Jeremy Irons

While I have been busily straightening the house, preparing for a weekend guest from out of state, I finally managed to unpack the last few boxes from our move. I have also managed to vacuum out the van for the first time since our arrival (it should be noted that frosted mini-wheats, no matter how much children like them, are NOT good travel food) , and post some recent pictures on Facebook. It is only now that I realize we have been here almost five months. Five months? It seems almost hardly possible. Even though some of the very cold and snowy days have felt individually endless, it also feels like we just got here a few weeks ago.

We had great travel weather - bright, sunny, and gorgeous the entire time. Nothing dramatic happened, unless you count that we subsisted pretty much the entire drive off of McDonald's, there were a few desperate miles of waiting to find civilization, and the lone rest stop resembled something that would make "The Shining" seem like hospitable and feel good. We also learned that slight incline and 90 degree demon drop can mean the same thing on directions, and that will power alone will not cause a van to drive over 35 mph if it is climbing a mountain and pulling an overloaded trailer.

People came out of the wood work to help when we arrived - providing enough cooked meals to last us two weeks, and unloading the van, trailer, and car top carrier so quickly I barely got the word "Hi" out before they were done.

We have been incredibly blessed to have a great ward, good neighbors, and a generally open hearted community. Upon learning that we were new comers, people made sure I knew where everything was, what numbers to call, and had recommendations on where to go for everything from pediatric care to Popsicles. To ease some of the scramble for Halloween costumes, we were able to borrow from my visiting teaching companion - and we got to experience the annual Pumpkin Walk - which is a walk through of displays comprised of scenes made out of pumpkins, and ended with cider and cookies.

Was the move everything I hoped for? Absolutely. I could not have done a better thing for my family. Every time I step outside, even now, I am swept away by the beauty and majesty of the scenery surrounding our small community. There is simply no way to capture it, on film or in words. It is truly awesome.

Moving here allowed me to transfer into a full time position with Home Depot, with a set schedule and guaranteed hours. I have weekends off, and get out early enough in the afternoon that I can have some quality time with the kids before they go to bed. They go to better and safer schools - I get calls on a regular basis from parent volunteers at the middle school with kudos from the teachers on Melodie's performance in the classroom, and Chloe's school secretary has even gone as far as to help arrange transportation for Chloe to go to birthday parties.

Shortly before Christmas I finally caved and cut Zachary's hair, primarily because my little monkey man had started pulling it back into pony tails on his own. Zachary copy cats everything Sophie does, which means I am now potty training two toddlers, though only one of which is ready - and the standard warning issued to unsuspecting visitors in our house is "Watch out for puddles." I am also getting the special treat of some spectacular tantrums thrown by two very stubborn and opinionated toddlers.

Speaking of toddlers, it is their bedtime. More to write later, such as the many deaths of the parakeets, the recent updates with Melodie, and the desperate search through pictures to determined if the newly lost tooth was indeed supposed to actually come out......