Confessions

1. I am completely preoccupied with the fact that I'm about to have a baby, and I'm convinced every day that it will be the day I go into labor. Every day I wake up disappointed and discouraged. So every day I vow to stop dwelling on whether or not I'll go into labor, and I come up with a distraction and convince myself that I can wait until the 29th. I am able to find peace for a good 20 minutes before I start thinking all over again that I'm going to go into labor any minute.
2. I have been driving around for 3 days now with suitcases packed and loaded in the back for the kids and me, just in case I need to call my mom or mother-in-law to grab the kids and head straight to the hospital. I am aware that this is only adding to the craziness I described in #1.
3. I remembered yesterday that really good chocolate has the power to calm anxiety. Unfortunately, that calm feeling only lasts a few minutes before more chocolate is necessary, so I've already consumed large amounts in the last 24 hours. I'm pretty sure that between now and when the baby comes, I'll double the weight I've gained so far in this pregnancy. And I don't care.
4. I've never been ready for Christmas this early. I've been done with my shopping for a while now. I only have a few gifts left to wrap, and even the stocking stuffers are in individual, labeled bags, ready to be dumped into the stockings. My Christmas cards are mailed, and the house oozes Christmas charm. I thought this level of preparation would bring me peace in my last days of pregnancy, but it's only adding to the feeling that I should be having a baby RIGHT NOW.
5. I have been putting off making a treat to deliver to my neighbors. It's the one thing that just doesn't sound fun to me. I keep falling back on the belief that people won't expect anything from me because I'm so close to giving birth. Lame, huh? I used that excuse for the Christmas cards as well, but eventually I gave in and took care of those. Maybe today I should start making cookies? We'll see...
6. I have a dozen sewing projects that I could be finishing up to keep me busy, but I continue to brush them aside, including at least 3 that are Christmas projects, which have now been officially pushed to next year....again. This morning after my disappointing OB appointment - I'm still dilated to a 2, after 2 weeks! - I drove to my favorite fabric store and bought darling fabric to make a new blankie for my little baby. I'm going to get started on it this afternoon.
7. I'm more excited to have my baby than I am about Christmas. I know this will change on Christmas Eve, with the kids being so excited. It's really all about them.
8. I love my Christmas decorations so much that I'm already dreading taking them down in January and going back to what seem like very dull decorations in contrast. Maybe I should make my house cuter when it's not Christmas, huh?
9. I went down to use the iron on Saturday and it wouldn't turn on. I was devastated! No actually, I was excited, because it was a hand-me-down from my mom, that I think she was secretly happy to part with when she gave it to me. Not to sound ungrateful, but I've been excited at the prospect of a new iron for a long time. When I went to buy one, I realized that they can be quite expensive, so I chose one somewhere in between cheap and expensive. It's nothing fancy, but I'm super excited to use it. Does that mean I'll be tackling the shirts waiting in the laundry room to be ironed? Don't count on it. Sorry, sweetie.
10. I've been trying to keep my house super clean in case I have to run off to the hospital at a moment's notice. But I'm really lacking in motivation, so I'm sitting in the midst of a big weekend mess. I'm going to use that baby blanket as motivation, so I'm off to clean before I start sewing....

Waiting

I'm going a little bit crazy. If all goes as planned, I'll be having a baby in 23 days. However, I've felt for a long time that this baby isn't going to wait around. Seriously, I've thought that for a few months now. And the closer it gets, the more I feel like he's going to come soon. The problem is that I really don't know anymore if this is mother's intuition or wishful thinking. Of course I don't want to be pregnant anymore, and of course I want to hold my little baby. I think it would be awesome to have him sleeping peacefully through our Christmas with us.

So today - getting ready for church this morning, all through church, making dinner tonight - I was pretty convinced that things were in motion and that maybe tonight would be the night. Now, that's a bad thing for two big reasons: 1) John is working all night tonight, and will still be on call every night next week, and 2) I'm only 36 weeks along right now. A little too soon, I know. Now that the kids are in bed, John is gone to work, and things are peaceful, I know that I won't be going into labor tonight and I can stop panicking/getting super excited.

Now if I can just keep from putting myself on this emotional roller coaster every day for the next 23 days. You'd think I'd know better by now, having gone through this whole baby thing several times before!

Random List

I'm suffering from a case of severe last-month-of-pregnancy ADD. (I can't say ADHD, because there's absolutely no hyperactivity going on. Believe me.) As of today, I have 27 days until this baby is guaranteed to be born - that is, my doctor scheduled an induction for December 29th. I'm not certain the baby will wait that long, but I know I won't be pregnant when the new year comes, and I'm thrilled! My mind is a jumble, and the migraine I've had since I woke up this morning isn't helping, but I'm dying to post, so here goes...

1. I've been sick for months now. Seriously. It was John's birthday, so October 17th, when we took the entire family to the doctor to be tested for swine flu. I had already been sick for a week at that point. I lost my voice the day before that, and it's still not really back. (If I haven't mentioned it, Aidan is the only one who officially tested positive for H1N1, but they treated us all, assuming that we had it. Really a relief to me, as I'm hoping that it gets us out of having it later on.) I'm finally feeling like the cough will be gone for good within the next week. Still, this has gotten me pretty discouraged and I'm having trouble snapping out of it.

2. I felt better when I read Amy's post and all of the comments and realized that I'm not the only one "in a funk." I'm taking her advice and focusing on the things that make me happy about Christmas. For weeks, I looked forward to decorating for Christmas and made myself wait until the day after Thanksgiving. Then that day came, and things just didn't happen. Since then, I have NOT been in the mood, and my house getting messier and messier has not helped. Today I forced myself to finish the Christmas lights outside, which make me smile every time I leave or come home (or walk outside to look at them, like I have 5 times since I finished). I can't get a good picture of the whole house because of a tree that blocks half of it, and giant, bright motion sensor lights that kind of ruin the effect, but take too long to turn off. (Last year I stood across the street in the freezing cold for far too long waiting for them to go off so I could take this picture.)

This year, I added a wreath with lights and a red ribbon to each window. I can't really explain why this makes me so happy.

And of course, there are the 3 little trees that Becky found for me a few years ago on clearance for a steal. They stand right outside of my front door and I love them!

3. My husband surprised me with a weekend getaway last month. I should devote a whole post to the trip, but we all know I'll never get around to it. I just have to tell you how awesome it was. He got us a super nice room in Wendover. (Thanks to his mom and her best friend, we got the room free!) If you don't know where Wendover is, it's a little town about 2 hours from here on the border of Nevada and Utah with absolutely nothing in it except casinos. There's a constant stream of cars from Salt Lake to Wendover and back, because for people who like to gamble, it beats the heck out of the 5-hour drive to Mesquite or the 6-hour drive to Vegas. John and I aren't really gamblers, though, so you might be wondering, as I was when he told me we were headed there, what would we be going to Wendover for? Well, the coolest part is that he scored us (again thanks to his mom and her friend) free tickets to see Bill Engvall. He's one of the Blue Collar Comedy guys. His comedy centers a lot on his marriage and having kids, so it really works for us. And now that I've had satellite radio in my van for a year (the free year is almost up - aaaahhhh!), I've gotten to hear enough of him to fall in love. (Blue Collar Comedy channel, Sirius 103, in case you're wondering.) Anyway, we left the kids with my parents, enjoyed the drive with just the two of us, ate enough crab legs at the seafood buffet to be truly embarrassed, except that we weren't (free, thanks again to ....... you guessed it!), went to an awesome comedy show, stayed up late watching movies, slept in, ate at the breakfast buffet (once again, free - I know!) and enjoyed the drive home with his mom. It was a wonderful surprise, and did so much to lift my spirits and make me excited to be a mom when we got back to the kids. I love my husband, and can't tell you how blessed I am to have him and how much he does for me!

4. I can't tell you about Wendover without mentioning that I came down with a horrible case of hives the day before we went. My doctor (my husband, that is) is pretty sure they were post-viral. I was getting over (or thought I was getting over) swine flu and it made sense, but seemed like cruel punishment. I lived through the ordeal with a steady stream of Benadryl into my body, and the distraction of a trip to Wendover, but I cannot explain how awful it was! My fingers were so swollen that I couldn't wear my ring, and my feet couldn't really fit into any shoes. Even my eyes were swollen. When I started falling asleep at night, I'd relax and forget not to scratch, and wake up scratching myself to near bleeding. When they finally went away a few days later, I said prayers of thanks several times a day and vowed to never, ever again take for granted not having huge welts all over my body and not itching like crazy!

5. I've been reading a new book by Wednesday Martin called Stepmonster. It contains a lot of statistics and personal accounts that have made me feel like less of a monster than I have felt in the last 8 1/2 years of being a stepmother. It's so nice to realize that other people - a LOT of other people - have had the same thoughts and feelings that I have, and that I'm not a witch and I'm not crazy. I can't tell you what feeling understood can do for your sanity and your peace of mind. Expect to hear more - a lot more - about this in a future post.

6. Part of the reason for my funk is that my husband is on nights again this month. This is actually the third week of four, and the last week of his entire residency that he'll have to work the all-night shift, but it's not making it a whole lot easier. The hardest part for me is that he has to sleep in the day, and I have very noisy children and a fairly small house. The week before last I planned things almost daily to keep us out of the house, but that's not that easy to do. Next week he's on call every night starting at 5, but that's much easier to deal with. And after that week, we're back to normal life. The end is in sight, so I should just suck it up and deal with it, huh?

6. Finally, this is all I can think about these days:

I bought these last week on a rare solo trip to Walmart for groceries. I have left them on the kitchen counter since I got home, and stare at them several times a day every day. I am so excited for my little baby to come! It's making it hard for me to focus on anything, and I have so many projects I want to finish and things that have to be done before Christmas, but I'm feeling really distracted. You'd think that I'd be taking advantage of these nights alone to get things done, but I'm so exhausted every night that I don't accomplish a thing. Looks like this night won't be any different. Now that I'm done with this post, I'm going to bed!

Frustrated, Part 2 (Or, the update I should have posted a long time ago!)

Thank you so much for all of your comments, advice, and support on my last post. I think more than anything I just needed to hear that it's OK to throw in the towel without feeling guilty. (I allow myself to feel guilty way too easily, even over things that aren't in any way my fault, so you can imagine what I was putting myself through with this!) Here's the conclusion I've come to for the time being, thanks in large part to your input: I'm going to keep the class going through December. This will give me time to decide if there's enough participation to continue. Also, the baby should be born right after Christmas, and I'll know if I feel up to keeping it going.

Since I decided on my course of action, I've been able to have a better attitude and just have fun with it. I've had 3 moms bring their kids the past few weeks, and it's been great. I feel like they're having a good time and their kids are enjoying it, and people are chatting and seem happy. Really, that's my main goal with the whole thing. I really appreciate any chance to get out of the house with my kids and entertain them, while in the company of other adults. I crave adult interaction during the day! And I'm feeling like I might keep it going even if no one else shows, because it's seeming more like it's worth the effort. Of course, once I've got kid number 5 to feed every few hours while I chase around a very active kid number 4, we'll see how I feel......

As for relief society, now that "enrichment" is no longer, I'm pretty much relieved of that part of it. It really was my own thing all along, and now I don't have to pretend that it has anything to do with the ward (except that I'm using their building). So that's no longer a concern. Yeah!

Anyway, thanks again for weighing in and supporting my right to do whatever I need to do. If I end up cancelling the class next year, I think I can do it without feeling bad. For now, if you're ever looking for something to do on Tuesday at 1:00, you know where I'll be! Brittany, I'd love to see you again and get a chance to meet your cute baby. And anyone is welcome, so bring all of your friends!

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And now, just for fun, here's what I made at church tonight:

(Sorry, the picture's pretty bad, but my camera's batteries were about to die.) If you know me, you know that this saying is very appropriate for me. I'm excited to put it in my new bedroom! (Yes, I realize I still need to post pics of my new cute room. The curtains should be done this week and then I'll post. See, I really don't have it together. Don't think I don't know it!)

Frustrated

When we lived in Spokane, a girl in our ward ran the cutest little music class she called Cherubs. It was once a week at the church. The kids enjoyed it, and it was a great way for me to get out of the house and talk to other moms. Well, when we moved here 2 1/2 years ago, I opened my big fat mouth and told the relief society presidency when they came to visit me that I had toyed with the idea of doing such a group. They had been looking for something for the young mothers in the ward, and immediately an enrichment group was born. I have to say that I was hesitant to tie it to the ward in any way--there was no budget for it and no one really knew what I would be doing at the group. But I went ahead with it. I asked for a very small voluntary donation, as the girl in Spokane had done, and sank a ton of my own money into it the first year.

I named my group MusicMakers, and I've done it for the past 2 school years. It has been a ton of work, and quite a bit of stress. And here's a confession: I'm not a "fun" mom. And my personality just isn't bubbly. It has been an effort for me to try to let myself go a little and just have fun with the kids for that hour every week. I'm glad for the opportunity, though, because I feel it really benefits my kids, and I've had a good time with them.

At the end of last school year, the group really fizzled out. People got busy, and I spent the last couple of meetings at the church with just my kids. I tried to make the most of those times, but decided that I probably wouldn't do it another year. It's a lot of work to get everything together and drag it to the church, racing to get there on time, just to sit there alone. Of course, when August rolled around, the relief society started asking about it. I told them my feelings, and agreed to pass around a list to find out who was interested. We have a very old ward, with few moms of small children, and even fewer who are at home with them. But the list seemed big enough, and I really didn't want to let anyone down. So against my better judgement and the urging of my husband to give it up (he hates to see me stressed out), I went ahead and started in September. (I have to mention my frustration with one individual who pushed super hard for me to do it, through the RS, of course, and has only bothered to come to 1/2 of one class so far this year.)

So I have spent the last two classes sitting at the church alone with my kids again. I don't blame anyone, because I understand that people have other things come up, their kids get sick, and I would never expect anyone to show up every single week. I certainly didn't in Spokane. There were times I didn't go just because I didn't feel like it. I totally get it. But my big fear is that people aren't coming because I just haven't made it fun enough. I spend hours looking for music and books at the library, and making and buying little props. And I honestly try to be happy and fun. But apparently it just hasn't been enough. And now I want to cancel the class. In January, I'll have a newborn, and it would be my second year in a row trying to run things with a baby strapped to my chest. And I have a kindergartner, so I have to race her home from school and speed-feed the kids lunch so that we can get there every week. I could honestly do without the stress. I just hate to let people down. And I don't want anyone to feel guilty, like I cancelled it because they weren't showing up.

I haven't decided what I'm going to do. What do you think? What would you do if it were you?

One for the books

Saturday was my hubby's birthday. Happy birthday, sweetheart! I'm so lucky that you don't put much stock in birthdays, because it would have been a real disappointment. I hope you know how much I love you and that I intended for it to be a good day for you.

So for the rest of you, here's how our day went. I had received a phone call from the primary president the night before telling me that she and her kids had tested positive for swine flu. Having been in her car visiting teaching with her on Wednesday night, I couldn't help but worry that my family had the virus as well. We had all been sick for over a week, and didn't seem to be getting better. I worried all night, especially because we were already with my good friend and her kids (sorry Becky!) and I didn't want them to get sick. Unfortunately, we had a practice Saturday morning for Sunday's primary program and I was now not only pianist, but filling in for the president as well. So I left my kids at home and wore a mask to the practice, where the rest of the presidency and I talked to the bishop and decided to go ahead with the program, even without 1/3 of the kids and the president and myself, the first counselor and pianist. (Wearing a mask is a great way to convince people they should stay away from you. If you ever need to get out of something, I highly recommend it!) The minute I got home from the practice, we loaded the kids in the car and headed to the clinic to find out if we have swine flu.

Poor John. I had been so stressed out that we were sitting in the waiting room, all wearing the required masks and trying to find the humor in the situation, when I realized that I had never even wished him a happy birthday. And of course, we spent the next few hours wrestling our kids and trying to survive a 6-person visit to the clinic. Fun times, I tell you! The good news--Katelyn and Carter were definitely over any illness and weren't even tested. The rest of us were tested for swine flu, but wouldn't get the results until Monday. Assuming that we had it, they sent us home with Tamiflu.

I'm grateful to my mother-in-law, whom we had already exposed to our illness several times in the last week. She had already had whatever we did, and agreed to still take our kids for the date we had planned that night. We headed to dinner at Black Angus, where John had a gift card he'd gotten for his birthday. However, there is no longer a Black Angus in Salt Lake. I wasn't too disappointed when we ended up at Ruby River. But when we headed to the movie we've been dying to see (The Invention of Lying), we found out that I had ordered our tickets online to the wrong theater. The only explanation I can offer, since we go to this theater all the time and always order our tickets online, is that sickness and stress had totally messed with my brain. Since it was showtime, we had no choice but to pay for 2 more tickets. We had a blast, but John will never let me forget the date to a nonexistent restaurant and tickets to the wrong movie theater.

I found out when we went to pick up the kids that the main side effect of Tamiflu is nausea and vomiting. It put a little damper on the evening, but we still went home and put the kids to bed and watched some shows together before passing out in our bed.

We made the most of our forced sick time while we waited for our test results (home from church Sunday and work & school Monday) and finished our bathroom, finally. Wanna see? Here's the only before picture I could come up with (and yes, that's Carter when we bought this house):

So even though you didn't see the shower before, hopefully you can appreciate this. The old one was big sheets of vinyl or plastic that looked like tile glued to the walls. The tub had completely lost its finish and always looked dirty, no matter how I scrubbed it. We got a new tub and put up real tile. John and I had a fun 4 hours racing to cut the tiles for the edges with the saw we rented before we had to get it back to Home Depot.

John was skeptical about the paint color, but as usual he let me do what I wanted, and we're happy with it. It's a very pale blue with a bit of turquoise to it. It's really soothing, and goes well with the beige of the floor and shower tile. We had a very basic laminate counter top built for the space, which John installed himself along with a new sink. I painted the old vanity and got new hardware, and bought a cheap mirror and painted it white, and we got a cute light fixture. The old one was an ugly medicine cabinet with 3 globe light bulbs on top - I'm sure you've seen one like it.

So we're super excited to have a clean, new-feeling bathroom. All the white makes it feel particularly clean and fresh. I know it's hard to get a good sense of it from the pics, but it's really hard to get pictures of such a small room. Guess you'll just have to come see it in person!

We got the results of our tests on Monday. Aidan was positive for swine flu, although the rest of our tests were negative. Since we had already been sick over a week when we were tested, I'm sure we all had it, and I'm a little relieved to think that we may have built up immunities to the virus. Tanner has strep on top of it all.

And now for this morning's adventure. I had a feeling that something was going wrong while I was switching the laundry downstairs. I came up to find that Aidan had gotten into (literally) the bucket of flour that I had stupidly left on the floor with the lid on but not closed tightly. I considered my options for a second before I remembered that we know for sure that he has swine flu. Thank goodness the bucket wasn't quite half full, but still a waste of a lot of flour! All I could do was laugh, especially since he thought he was quite funny and enjoyed me trying to knock the flour off of his clothes and out of his hair. (Notice his little tool box in the middle of the mess.)

Now that I'm looking at this picture, it doesn't look half as messy as it is in real life. Guess I'd better be done with the computer so I can clean my floor!

Adventures in Parenting

The Good:

Each morning, Carter and Aidan and I accompany Katelyn around the corner to school. I push the stroller while Carter rides his bike and Katelyn rides a bike or scooter. They get to play on the playground until the bell rings, then the kids line up and their teacher escorts them to class. This morning, Katelyn was already in line and following the teacher with the other kids when Carter got a very strong urge to give her one final hug and kiss. He was so insistent that I let him run after her. He was quick and didn't hold up their little line at all, and it made me glad that I allowed it. His little displays of affection just melt my heart.

*Because I have yet to post pictures of Katelyn's first day of school, I'm going to take the opportunity right now. Most of you are totally familiar with the emotional side of the first day of school, so I'll spare you a long, drawn-out post. Suffice it to say, I was sad to send my first child off to kindergarten, and tears were shed. It helped me to see her so happy to go.

This picture is blurry, but it captures Katelyn's mood that morning just perfectly.

Striking a pose

Katie and mom on their first walk to school

The Bad:

Aidan is the happiest baby around - usually. He spends 98% of his time smiling, laughing, and playing around. He's quite a tease for a 13-month-old. Well, my happy little guy has suddenly turned into a screaming, crying baby, thanks to some teeth trying to fight their way through his gums. He woke up around 4 this morning, so upset that I thought his screams were going to wake the other kids. I gave him Tylenol and held him for a long time, and finally gave up and put him in bed with me. He eventually fell asleep right before 6, just 15 minutes before I get Tanner up and see him off to school. Poor Tanner had to eat breakfast alone this morning because I was afraid if I tried to move Aidan he'd wake up and start screaming again, and I couldn't leave him in my bed. Of course, I had to get up soon anyway to feed the other kids and get Katelyn off to school. A few months ago, before Aidan starting sleeping through the night, I would have considered that a decent night's sleep. But I've gotten a little spoiled lately, so I was pretty tired this morning.

Unfortunately, the screaming and crying also lasted through much of our Costco trip today, and through Tanner's parent/teacher conferences. It was fun to try to talk to 8 teachers with a squirmy, upset baby in my lap.


The Ugly:

I mentioned that we went to Costco today. Well, I wouldn't recommend a Costco trip to anyone whose huband is out of town (hint, hint, Alisa). Somehow I managed to fit most of the store in the cart before we finally made it to the registers. After shopping for what seemed like hours, we had lunch at the snack bar. It is a real test of patience to try to get your rambunctious kids to eat their pizza without making a huge mess, and in less than 2 hours, all with a baby who's writhing and alternating between whining and screaming bloody murder.

So we made it through the shopping and eating, and were headed out the door. I let my kids bring the remainders of their drinks, and you can probably see where the story is heading now. Right as the woman at the door was checking my receipt, Carter dropped his root beer on the floor. It spilled in the center of the entrance, so people were backed up waiting to go around us as one of the employees and I worked to clean it up. Carter was upset and asking for more root beer, and I've been trying hard not to overreact in these situations. So to show him that I was not really angry over a spilled drink, I ran back and got him a little more. We gathered ourselves together and finally got out the door, and had walked about 12 steps when Carter dumped his entire drink AGAIN! We were outside of the store, but still inside of the main outer doors. I saw that one of the employees had seen it, and decided to let them take care of this one. So we left, and I made Carter throw his cup away. Sorry, but no refill after the second spill! I wasn't really embarrassed by the first spill, although I don't enjoy holding up crowds of people. But the second one made me feel like a real idiot for having given him another drink to spill immediately. Oh well, what do you do?

Frea.king.out.

I've got a million blog posts rolling around in my head, and tons of things I want to catch you all up on, but I can't get past what's going on around here right now, so that's what you get to hear about. John leaves Sunday morning for a 3-week radiology course in Washington, DC. We've known about this for months, and I had originally planned to drive out with the kids and spend the last week with him sightseeing and hanging out. Since we made those plans, we spent all of our money redoing a bathroom. I also realized that it would be pretty tough to only take the kids out of school for a week (which seemed like the longest I'd want them to miss) and drive all the way across the country and back, still leaving enough time to see some stuff in DC. And John's not thrilled with the idea of his wife driving the kids cross-country alone. (Personally, I'm pretty independent when it comes to that stuff, and don't see that as an issue. I could do it! Of course, it would be exhausting......) So we'll do DC with the kids when we have unlimited time and money, or at least more time and money than we have now.

That leaves me here to be a single mom for 3 weeks. I'll be honest with you - I'm freaking out. I feel pretty confident that I can handle things as far as keeping our home running, but when I really start to think about all of the responsibility, I do get a little panicky. However, my main concern is that I don't want to be without my husband. He is my best friend in this world, and the most important time of my day is the time we spend together at night after the kids are in bed. Looking forward to that time is what gets me through my days. Man, I'm getting myself worked up, so I'd better stop thinking about it. I'll just say that I'm going to miss my husband desperately. And when he gets back - after I've spent as much time with him as either of us can stand - I think I'll be ready and deserving of a day at the spa (hint, hint, in case you're reading this, sweetie). Four kids is a lot for one person to handle for that long!

So for the remainder of this week, we're trying to get John packed and ready for the trip, finish up our stupid bathroom, and throw a big birthday party for Carter. (Did I mention that John is on nights this week, so he's gone all night and sleeps most of the day? That gives us a few afternoon and evening hours together, and that includes Saturday night. He'll get home Sunday morning just in time to grab his suitcase and jump in the car for the airport. By the way, could I be more of a crybaby?)

I did sneak a minute to get the little boys' pictures taken this morning. It's a little bit of a distraction from the work I should be doing and the mourning I am doing, just to have some cute new pictures of my babies. The main ones are on the sidebar, but here's one I got just for fun. I'll share and maybe you'll forgive me for spending most of this post feeling sorry for myself.

And now, about the cake

Apparently cake decorating is the latest thing. There are a million different shows on tv about the subject, my personal favorite being Cake Boss, in case you were wondering. I think it's funny how the stuff our moms and grandmas were so good at seemed to be forgotten, but comes back in waves. It seems like everyone I know is into quilting, gardening, even canning. I wasn't even surprised to see Becky's post about her recent foray into cake decorating, which I read after I had purchased what I needed to create Aidan's birthday cake. Hopefully she won't turn me in to Cake Wrecks when she sees these pictures.

I was super anxious about the whole cake thing. I'm not sure why - it's really not life or death. The worst thing that could have happened is that I served an ugly cake. Or I could have served a plain old frosted chocolate cake, which no one in my family would have complained about. (OK, maybe John would have complained, but not about how it looked. He's just not that into chocolate.) On Friday night I went to Michael's and spent 30 minutes in the cake decorating aisle, then gave the cashier an arm and a leg for the small bag of supplies that I brought home. Then I had nightmares all night about making the cake. Seriously, I hardly slept at all. You'd think I had a big exam or something, not a silly cake to make.

When it came down to it, it took me a long time to decorate this cake, but mostly due to inexperience. And it was TOTALLY worth it. The kids got the biggest kick out of it. Carter told everyone at Aidan's party about how mom "squirted red stuff all over the cake and it took her a looong time." He was seriously impressed. So would I do it again? Absolutely! I'm already planning the kids' future birthday cakes, fully expecting, of course, that my skills will improve with each one.

I can't forget to thank my friend Ginger. I was inspired by her awesome cakes, and couldn't have done it without her recipes, advice, and encouragement. Although I'm sure this would look better if she had been holding my hand while I did it.

So without further ado......



Fun, huh? Doesn't it make you want to try your hand at it?

To Aidan, on your first birthday

Dear Aidan,

Today you turn 1. A year ago, I was pushing a shopping cart around Costco, trying to keep Katelyn and Carter close so I didn't have to chase them and stopping every few minutes for a contraction. By the time I reached the checkout, it was apparent that it was time to head to the hospital. I wasn't terribly smart about my shopping, and lifting all of those giant boxes into the van while I was having contractions was nearly impossible!

If I hadn't had to wait 2 hours while they gave me IV antibiotics, the labor would have been pretty quick. But those hours were peaceful as your dad and I watched the summer olympics and laughed, and I updated my blog to let people know what was going on. Even with the epidural, I can always feel the contractions in one spot, but I still think of those hours in the hospital with your dad, having a baby, as the most peaceful and happy times - times that I look forward to and don't dread at all, even knowing the difficulty and pain that are coming.

I made dad go home to sleep that night after you were born, partly because I couldn't imagine him trying to sleep on the chair-turned-bed in the corner of the room, and partly because I selfishly wanted to be alone with you. I fell in love with you immediately. You have the sweetest, happiest, and most loving spirit. Even now, at a year old, you snuggle with me in the morning after you wake up, before and after naps, and at night before bed, while dad and I watch tv. You are the biggest daddy's boy I've ever met, and you'll push me away in a heartbeat if your dad is in sight or if you can hear his voice. But I'm lucky enough to be at home with you every day, and I know that you love me.

That day at Costco seems like a long time ago, yet I have a hard time believing that my baby is a year old. I think it really hit me that you're growing up the other day when you brought dad your shoes and socks, then sat on his lap and lifted your little foot so he could put them on you. You're such a smart little guy. You say mama and da-da and diddy (kitty). You wave hi and goodbye and even night-night, and you love to clap your chubby little hands. You've started walking, and you're all over the place. A few nights ago, I walked outside to see what dad was doing and found you sitting on Carter's PowerWheels motorcycle. You had climbed up all by yourself and knew exactly what you were doing. If only you knew how to make it go - you would have taken off!

Now I'm having another baby, and every once in a while I worry about how it will affect you. But I know that you won't get lost in the shuffle. You're such an important part of our family. You're happy 98% of the time, and that happiness is contagious. Tanner, Katelyn, and Carter absolutely adore you, and can't pass by you without stopping to play with you. You can turn even the worst of moods into a smile. I think you'll have this role in our family no matter how many kids come after you.

Happy birthday to my best little buddy. I love you!

Love, Mom

Keepin' It Real

I have always been claustrophobic. When I was in elementary school we had these 3 giant tractor tires on the playground. They were lined up so that you could climb into the two outer tires and into the middle. But if you were in the middle with friends on the outside, you couldn't get out unless your friends did. I can tell you that I only sat in that inner tire once or twice, and my heart was beating hard and fast the entire time. I preferred to let everyone else climb in and I'd stay in the outer tires, with my whole body able to scoot out at any time. As an adult, I don't have tractor tires to deal with, but I've had two MRIs, and those were two of the most terrifying times of my life. You know, the table you're lying on moves into that tube and it sure seems like you couldn't get out if you tried. Man, I'm starting to shake just thinking about it. The whole time I'm having the MRI done I have to tell myself to take slow deep breaths, and I keep an inner dialog going to talk myself out of completely freaking out. My claustrophobia also extends into seemingly boring things, like driving in construction where you only have one lane, and no way to get out of it - or anything similar you can think of.

So I freaked out last night. Just for a split second - I had that moment of panic that I have at least once every pregnancy. Claustrophobia is the best description I can come up with for this feeling I get. I know that I have this little life developing inside of me. I haven't really felt enough movement, and I'm not big and pregnant enough yet to start feeling that bond. You know, by the end you feel like you have a little pal with you all the time, and you almost feel empty and lonely after you've given birth. Well, I'm not at that stage yet. I still have to remind myself that there's a baby inside, though you'd think the constant barfing, headaches, and increasing pudginess would be constant reminders. Anyway.........it must have been one of those moments when I was thinking, "Oh yeah, there's a little baby growing in there!" That's when it hit me that, "Oh my gosh, that little baby's going to be there until it's big enough and developed enough to come out. And it's going to start impinging on my ability to breath. And it's going to stretch my ribs to the point of pain. And there's not a thing I can do to get it out!"

Yeah, I know, I sound like a total nutcase. And pretty selfish, too. Like I said, this whole thing only lasted a second, but it was some intense panic. At least it's a familiar feeling. It hits me at some point with every kid, and obviously I get over it. But man, what are we thinking when we choose to go through this? It's a big commitment to let someone move in and use your body to grow and develop. And it's really out of your control. You can't decide how sick you get, or what hurts, or when and where that baby decides to kick. And I won't even get into the havoc it wreaks on your body!

So there you go - some insight into my demented little world. I'm pregnant. I'm starting to look pregnant, although mostly chubby, probably, and I hate that! If you're lucky, I'll post a pic soon of my little belly. And stay tuned for pics of the finished bedroom. I'm in heaven having a place to go and close the door and feel peace!!!!

Checking In

Just thought I'd tell you what I've been up to, since for the most part I've gone missing in my life this past week. We're attempting to turn the world's ugliest bedroom:

into a peaceful escape. I've been planning it and shopping for the last two months, and I'm dying for the room to turn out like the picture in my mind. Hopefully I'll be posting the results soon! In the meantime, I'm trying to keep my kids clothed, fed, and entertained, and keep the house from caving in on itself. For the most part I've failed at the latter, but tonight the kitchen and living room are clean, and I even cooked dinner - I haven't been cooking much this week due to the constant mudding, sanding, mudding, sanding, mudding, priming, painting, etc. My poor garden gets its watering and not much else, so I'm beyond excited to bring in my first load tonight (not counting the peas and chard we've been eating for a while now). It looks like we'll have a bountiful year, despite the fact that my garden looks like a morning glory field. We'll get to weeding next week....My body aches in every way imaginable, but it's doing a better job at distracting me from the nausea than sitting on my rear watching t.v., so I should be grateful. Now it's off to paint all night, in hopes that I can finish so that John can lay the carpet tomorrow. (New carpet - can you believe it?!!! I'm ecstatic!!!)

A change of plans

I was driving home this afternoon from lunch at the park with the kids when I happened to find my favorite music in the whole world on the classical station on satellite radio (one of my new favorite things!). Rachmaninoff's 2nd piano concerto was playing, and the 2nd movement, my favorite of the three, was just barely starting. My first thought was, "Maybe I should take a long route home, because this is going to last longer than our drive home." I did drive straight home, completely immersed in the music. I was playing along - in my head, with my fingers, and in my heart. (It's sappy, but you're just going to have to go with it - or stop reading now. It only gets worse.) I have adored this piece of music since the moment I first heard it, and it instantly became my dream to perform it live with an orchestra some time in my life.

We pulled into the garage halfway through the third movement. Tanner opened the door to get out, then realized that I wasn't budging. He waited a few minutes, but gave up on me and went inside before it was over. (The kid now has ear buds in and his IPod going at all times, so my music doesn't even make his radar - not that he'd care about it anyway.) I was kind of glad that he went inside, because the music builds and builds, and the ending is so dramatic and moving that I had tears in my eyes. (This is not abnormal. John and I went to the symphony with his parents before we were married and saw this piece performed live. I cried practically the whole way through. It's hard to explain my emotional connection to the music, but it's pretty strong. I wanted to be the girl playing the piano so badly I could taste it!) This time the tears served another purpose. It occurred to me that I had given up my dream. I said goodbye to my piano major after Katelyn was born and I was pregnant with Carter, when it became obvious that I couldn't be a mom and finish such an intense major at the same time. It was an extremely difficult decision for me. While I hope to finish my degree when the kids are older, I really feel like the time has passed for me to fulfill that dream. I can't see any opportunities arising for some middle-aged lady to perform with a symphony orchestra, and to choose the music. And I've lost so much of my ability. I know it's my fault to an extent. I should be making it a priority to practice daily. But I couldn't possibly play 4 hours a day like I was back then, so I'm going lose some dexterity regardless. Anyway............

I was sitting in the car, tears in my eyes, the music moving through me as I mourned the loss of a dream. And then it hit me. I didn't lose my dream - I traded it! I always knew that I wanted to be a mom and stay home with my kids. I didn't dream of having children like some people do, but I just kind of knew that that's what I wanted. And obviously it is what I want. I chose to stop going to school, and I've chosen to keep having kids. We have another one on the way, due in January, and I'm not even sure that it'll be our last. So obviously, this is what I want to be doing, right? I'm living my dream!

I couldn't really shake the melancholy feeling I had, even with my realization. I carried it with me all afternoon. I'm still allowed to mourn the loss of a dream, even if I chose to lose it, I think. But I feel very grateful. My husband works so hard so that I can be at home, and he supports me and realizes more every day how important it is to have someone at home full time. It blesses our children's lives and will continue to do so. And I will always feel good about the decision I made to be at home with them, even if it means giving up some things I could have done for myself. And I still can and do bless our lives with my love of music.

How about you? What have you sacrificed, and does it make you sad, or are you at peace?

Happy Father's Day

I'm sure you're all at home today telling your husbands that they're the best fathers ever. Well, sorry girls, but you're wrong, because I married the world's greatest dad. I knew when I married him that he loves kids. But I didn't know just how far he would go to make his children happy, or how much joy he would get out of playing with them. I didn't realize that he would take on a second job and still work extra shifts moonlighting so that he could give us the best of everything. I am blessed to have such a hard-working and loving husband, and my children are blessed to have him for a father. Happy father's day, sweetie. We love you!

This is one of my favorite pictures of my husband being a cute dad. The baby is Katelyn.

On death

Last Tuesday, our family experienced a loss that turned out to be far more tragic than I expected. I found our cat Samantha lying lifeless on the family room floor. I was so completely freaked out that I couldn't even get close enough to touch her. So I watched from around the corner and made sure that I couldn't detect the rise and fall of her breath. When I was sure that she was not alive, I called John. I am so glad that he was working the right rotation and having a slow day, and that he was willing to race home to my rescue. He put our beloved kitty in a box and hid her so that he could go back to work and we could deal with it later.

Katelyn was beside herself when we told her. She cried and cried. She could think of nothing else the rest of the evening, as we waited for everyone to get home so that we could have a funeral. Both Katelyn and Carter were morbidly fascinated with seeing Sammy's body. And here's where I felt completely lost as a parent. How do I teach my children about death and help them to deal with it in a healthy way? What is appropriate and what's not? We had decided to bury Sammy in a remote corner of our yard, and not in a box, so John lifted her into the hole he had dug and the children had the opportunity they so desired to see her one more time. Was that the right thing to do? I'm really not sure. I hope they're not scarred for life by the image of their lifeless cat in a hole in the ground.

We all said something about Sammy and then put dirt on her grave. And this is when it hit Tanner. The timing couldn't have been worse - it was exactly one week before the anniversary of his mother's death. He has been dealing with the resurfacing of his grief since mother's day, and this just brought it all to the forefront again. There was much sobbing as we buried our kitty, and the kids' grief made me more sad than my own grief ever could have.

We were all sad that night, but we were OK. So I was surprised when Katelyn woke up the next morning and started crying almost immediately. In fact, she cried for at least an hour straight. And as soon as I'd get her calmed down, she'd start crying again. We had a lot of talks. I explained over and over about how Sammy's spirit is in heaven, and that it's just her body left here in the hole in our yard. She said a couple of times that she wanted to be dead, too, so that she could be in heaven with Sammy. It just about broke my heart. Carter got pretty sick of the weeping and wailing. He started telling her, "Sammy's dead. You don't want a dead cat!" Obviously, he's not quite grasping the situation. He had some other strange things to say about the whole thing. He's even said when he got mad at our other cat that he wishes it were dead with Sammy. Some issues to sort through eventually, I'm sure...

As Katie's grief subsided, she showed some signs of understanding. One morning at breakfast, she told me, "I think Jesus is making paper balls for Sammy in heaven and throwing them so that she can catch them. I think He's playing with her and taking care of her for us." I thought that was the sweetest thing.

As for Tanner, the one year mark has come and gone. I took the kids to the Oquirrh Mountain Temple open house on that day, in addition to an extra grief counseling session. It was good to have things to do to keep us busy, and the temple was a positive experience (minus the inevitable meltdown by Carter, which, luckily, didn't happen until the very end). He even talked to me in the car on the way home and I didn't feel like he was trying to pull away or distance himself from me, which I feel quite often. I am still so sad that he had to lose his mother so early in his life. One of my least favorite phrases is, "It's not fair." It's pretty much outlawed in our house. But I find myself thinking all the time that IT'S NOT FAIR! I don't want him to have to hurt. I still wish for his sake that we could turn back time and undo it. But we can't. And now we'll all be dealing with death for the rest of our lives. I guess I'll be figuring it out as we go.

So excited!

It's here - my annual post about how much I love my garden! I felt like summer started the week before Mother's Day, because that's when we got the garden back up and running. John had a free afternoon, and I was surprised to come home from errands and find the neighbor's tiller in our garage. I had decided that as soon as we tilled, I would get started. (Last year we tilled too early and the weeds had completely invaded before I even planted anything, so I started out behind the game.) So as soon as the ground was tilled and raked, I sent John to get a truckload of compost. He unloaded the truck and spread it around, and I ran to the garden shop to get seeds. Here's what I planted: green beans, carrots, peas, beets, onions, chives, spinach, swiss chard, summer squash, butternut squash, spaghetti squash, zucchini, cucumbers, pumpkins, watermelon, cantaloupe, dill, and basil. My parsley and strawberry plants survived the winter, so I transplanted them. The next week, I added tomato plants - about 9 different varieties - and cherry tomatoes, as well as green and red peppers, jalapenos, and serrano peppers.

The past few weeks have been soooo exciting, as I've gone out every day to weed and water, and to watch for little bits of green coming up. I'm pleased to say that everything I planted has at least one tiny plant coming up now, which is better than last year. I never could get the pumpkin or melon seeds to sprout, so I ended up buying starts. If you garden, you know what I mean about the excitement. If you don't, you've got to try it!

I have big plans for the garden this year. I plan to can oodles of tomatoes, and beans if I get enough this year. Last year, my beans came a handful at a time, and my baby came at the same time as the tomatoes. Plus, Tanner moved in and started school. So I let loads of tomatoes rot before I could can them, and felt sick about it. This year I think I can do it if I do a batch every few days. We'll see about that..........Also, I really wanted to make salsa last year, but didn't for all of the above reasons. Hopefully, I'll get to try this time.

I have to say how grateful I am to have a hard-working husband. He did an entire day's worth of back-breaking labor to get everything ready for me, and all while he was on call and could have needed to shower and run to work at a minute's notice. His "do it now" attitude is a perfect complement to my "I'll get to it" style. I know he wanted to help me get the garden started because he knows how much I love it and that it kept me sane last summer. I love being outside, digging in the dirt, having the kids playing outside and wearing themselves out, and feeling the sense of accomplishment when harvest time comes!

Get me off this crazy train

I have always been prone to hormone-induced insanity. I take a fun little roller coaster ride at least once a month. Sometimes it's a short ride with small ups and downs. Other times, like this month, the highs are super high, and the lows are terribly low, and there are a couple of loops thrown in just for fun. Unfortunately for my family, they get to go on the ride with me, but they feel the dips more than the rest of it.

Take yesterday, for example. I offered to take my sister Stephanie's two daughters for the day so that she could pack boxes and prepare to move. Katelyn had dance, so I piled my 3 little ones and her 2 into the van. We stayed in the van and watched movies until Katelyn was done, then headed to Costco for my usual Wednesday shopping trip and lunch. I got some strange stares, and even a few comments, as I pushed a cart loaded with 5 kids through Costco. (Usually the kids prefer to walk, but I was happy to have them all in my control when they opted to sit in the cart.) When I sat down at the food court with 5 littles ones, feeding 1 baby food and cutting pizza for the other 4, I could feel the eyes of everyone around me...........the entire. time. we. sat. there! It was a little crazy, trying to keep drinks from spilling, pizza from ending up on the floor, clothes from getting covered in food. But as I sat there, I felt good about myself. I was calm and collected. I didn't feel stressed or rushed, though it took FOREVER to take the kids to the potty. And it took even longer to load everyone back in the car, change a diaper, and make a bottle. I never lost my cool, on the outside or on the inside. I even managed to get 2 of them to nap when we got home. It was a great feeling! Fast forward a few hours. My sister has picked up her kids. My 3-year-old is waking up from his nap, which is almost never a pleasant experience. I'm exhausted from the day's activities, and from trying to keep everyone outside or quiet-as-mice inside, since my husband is working nights and sleeping (or trying to) days this week. And I'm faced with making dinner. Suddenly this task seems insurmountable and I feel like I'm going to break. I'm so frustrated that my hubby even offers to go get a pizza or fast food. (I should have taken him up on it!) I did make dinner, and survived getting the kids to bed and seeing John off to work.

And now for today's adventures: sew sew sew, trying to finish blanket for friend who just had baby; to Walmart with kids to get groceries to make dinner for same friend; lunch on the run; MusicMakers, where my kids were on their worst behavior EVER; home to frantically sew some more; cooking, baking, sewing, until...................I'm done! As the clock struck 6, I was driving to deliver dinner, complete with lasagna, salad, bread, and a cake, AND a freshly finished blanket. Now that's a feeling of accomplishment! Back at home I fed my family the same dinner, making for a happy hubby. Later, as I took a break for the first time all day, and for the last hour with John before he headed to work, we sat down to watch last night's American Idol results show. With Katelyn whining at me on one side, and Carter on the other - a constant stream of "I want, I want, I want" and "now, now, now" - I broke. I had to remove myself to another room to keep from losing it completely. Suddenly everything was too much for me and I couldn't handle hearing another demand, breaking up another fight, or cleaning up another spill. With clenched teeth and a raging temper, I got the kids in bed. They're all alive, but if I hear another pair of feet in the hallway, I fear for those kids.

So the mood swings are pretty bad. If I didn't know my body, I'd be ready to check myself into the nearest psych ward. But I'm comforted, if only slightly, by the fact that this will pass. And I'm feeling ashamed of myself. This hormonal upheaval is causing me to feel like I can't survive another second of my life. I've thought several times in the last week of the pioneer women crossing the plains, burying children and battling every kind of hardship along the way. I guarantee their attitudes were better in the face of those trials than mine has been in the face of this tiny little challenge. I have got to quit feeling sorry for myself and buck up. For now, if you see me, you'll know why I don't seem myself. I you don't see me, count yourself lucky!

Happy Mother's Day

I want to wish my mom and my mom-in-law a happy Mother's Day. I am so blessed to have such wonderful and giving women in my life. Thanks to them, I haven't gone crazy since my 2 children suddenly turned into 4. And thanks to both of them, I've been able to go on 2 trips in the last month. I spent a week with my sister, Cassie, and my sweet baby Aidan in Iowa seeing sites and shopping. The next weekend I lived it up with my hubby in New York City. I had a great time traveling the country, and felt rejuvenated and excited about motherhood again after getting back. So thanks, moms. I love you and appreciate you so much!

Now, about today...........since I first became a mother, I've struggled with my feelings about Mother's Day (see last year's post). There have been years when I've been selfish, focusing on how things should have gone and didn't. There have been years of sadness because I've thought only of my failures as a mother. And more recently, as I'm maturing (hopefully), I've tried to make it more about the mothers in my life than about myself. But this morning I realized that this day will be different for our family for the rest of our lives. Today my focus was on helping my heartbroken (step)son deal with the pain of losing a mother. We had talks about remembering the good things, hugged him through the tears, and started a new tradition to honor his mother. Although he can't see it, each year will get a tiny bit easier. But Mother's Day has taken on a new meaning, and now we join the others who are reminded of losses on this day - who struggle to see the good through the sorrow.

I hope that all of you had a wonderful day. All of my friends are incredible mothers, and I look up to each of you for different reasons. You are incredible women, and your children are lucky to have you.

As the day draws to a close, I'm inspired to be a better mom to my children, especially to the one who needs me more than he'll ever let on.

Wanted: A New Cleaning Lady

...because the one I have stinks! She is just so darned inconsistent! I am sitting at my computer in the kitchen right now, sunlight streaming through the windows and dancing across clean countertops and my beautiful new table. No dishes remain from last night's dinner. I can walk across the floor without feeling crunching under my feet. And it will only take me a minute to clean up the breakfast dishes and the baby's high chair, leaving my kitchen the way I prefer it - sparkling clean. But how long will it last? Two days ago, there were piles of dirty dishes on the counters, the sink overflowed with them, and just be glad you didn't try to walk across the floor in bare feet.

And don't get me started on laundry! This inept housekeeper of mine works her tail off to catch up on laundry, and everything in the house is clean. Then suddenly, she turns around to find that no one in the house has clean underwear. I know she's trying hard, and that she usually thinks she's keeping up with things, but they get out of control so fast! It seems that we're either in a state of chaos (most of the time), or I'm stressed out every second trying to keep everything perfect. There's no middle ground!

I'm hoping the cleaning lady will get some spring cleaning done in the basement and bedrooms this weekend - it's time to start turning her attention to the yard and the garden, and the house needs to be in good order first. I'm just praying that she can maintain the clean areas of the house while focusing on the not-so-clean parts.

So for any of you who've mistaken my blog title for a declaration of my awesomeness, please note the "in training" part. I won't lie. I got me some mad skillz in the kitchen. I can whip up anything I put my mind to on a sewing machine. And I found out last year that gardening is a simple matter of planting things and watering them, and that anyone who wants to can, can. Don't get me wrong, I know how to clean. My mom taught me how to scrub the heck out of a toilet, and I run my vacuum daily. I just need some help in maintaining a consistent level of cleanliness throughout the house, so that I'm not constantly running to catch up.

Words every mother longs to hear:

After everyone else had finished eating, Katelyn and I ended up alone at the dinner table tonight. We had a little discussion about healthy eating habits. Then I stood up to clear the dishes while she finished eating and this is what she said to me:

"You know what I decided to do when dinner is so yucky? I decided to eat it all anyway."

I'm learning nightly (from all of the kids, not just Katelyn) that the meals I put so much thought and effort into are pretty gross. It's really fun to watch your 12-year-old fill his glass over and over to wash down the icky veggies he doesn't want to eat. At least he's still doing what he's asked, right? Oh, the joys of being a mother!

Help!

I am seriously addicted, and my husband is an enabler! My love of shoes is turning to obsession....

(Thanks for the awesome birthday presents, hubby, and everyone else. I'm a spoiled girl!)

Taking out the trash

I'm trying to decide if what I'm about to confess is going to get me arrested or in trouble with someone, somewhere....

It is really, really, really windy here today. As we speak, the swing on my back patio is lying on its side in the grass, and I'm not going to bother to put it back up until the tornado passes us by. As I turned onto our street, coming home from Katelyn's dance class, I noticed the neighbor's garbage can lying on its side with a few items spilling onto the street. My first thought was, "Thank goodness our can is still standing." I would hate to have to pick up all of my gross trash and put it back in the can, not to mention having things not meant to be seen by others blowing about the neighborhood. (I have to admit that as I started composing this post in my head, my conscience forced me to run across the street and pick up the neighbor's can. I don't trust the garbage men to get out of their fully-automated truck and pick up the can so that it can be emptied by said truck. Luckily nothing too disgusting was on the ground for me to pick up!) This line of thinking led me to reminisce about the things that have gone out with our trash, that I would NOT want to pick up off of the street and put back in our can. You're dying for me to share, right?

When we were first married, we were given a gigantic fish tank by some friends who were moving out of state and couldn't keep it. We took great pride in buying exotic, often expensive, fish for the tank. We spent hours watching that tank, and it was quite relaxing. It was also very frustrating when exotic, expensive fish didn't live long. We flushed a lot of fish, unless they were too big to be flushed down our apartment toilet. One very vivid memory I have is of me carrying a very full bag of garbage down 3 flights of stairs, out of the building, and across the parking lot to the dumpster. I tried to keep the bag as far from my body as possible, because sitting on top of the other nastiness was a gigantic one of these:
You can't tell from the picture, but this fish was at least 12 inches long, and his eyeballs had been eaten out by his dear fish friends. I am a screamer, and I guarantee that people were looking out their windows to see what the fuss was, because every time that bag bumped my leg I shrieked!

A few months ago, there was something much worse in our can outside. Fortunately, I was not the one to carry it out. Remember this guy?

This snake won me great acclaim in the neighborhood as the cool mom who let her son have a 6-foot boa constrictor in his bedroom, in my house! Unfortunately for Tanner, my husband, and Bo the snake, he never got acclimated enough to his environment to feel comfortable eating, and eventually died of starvation. It didn't occur to me at the time that maybe we should have buried him. I was not in any way a witness to his exit from our home. The shrieking would have prompted 9-1-1 calls from our neighbors, to be sure!

I'm not feeling like I should share any more confessions with you today. But I can tell you how glad I am that my profession is not that of a sanitation engineer. And I'm thinking I'll stay away from the dump for the rest of my life....

How about you? Any confessions?

February blahs

I need to start thinking like a blogger again. I've been dying to post something, but not only am I short on free time, I am also seriously lacking in good blog material. When I started blogging, everything around me provided inspiration. I was constantly composing blog posts in my mind. I think I've allowed all of those unwritten posts to rot in my head for so long now that I can't even recognize a good blog topic if it stares me in the face.

So all month I've been trying to think of something to write about. I just can't think of anything funny or upbeat. See, February is a rough month for me. I think I mentioned that last year. It takes me most of the month to get over myself and move on. (That's right, I said get over myself. It's time to start focusing on others and get myself out of this funk.) I am seriously excited for March to get here, just so it won't be February anymore, and so I can start fresh.

Now I want to give a little shout out to the sweet souls who have helped me get through this month. First of all, my dear friend Alisa, who sent me a package with the most thoughtful note, and these adorable things:

Oops, I already had the baby! This is the part she sent:Too cute, huh? She can't know how much her gift and note lifted my spirits. The timing was uncannily perfect. Thank you, Alisa!

Then there are friends who come into town and make time for a visit. Becky and I were lucky enough to do brunch with Lucy, one of my favorite bloggers and a friend in real life. (OK, it was actually the end of January, but it still counts.) The conversation is always great with Lucy. She's one of the best listeners I have ever met. She makes you feel like she really cares about what you have to say. I hope we all get a chance to do this again soon!

A few weeks ago I was graced with a visit from Becky C, one of my awesome Spokane buddies. She and her family were in town and made an afternoon for us. They were even kind enough to watch my little ones while I took Tanner for a haircut. Talk about nice! And I have to say that Becky looks amazing! See for yourself:

My sister Julie made time in her busy schedule to hang out with me this week and force me to sew. I've been meaning to finish up some projects, but never can allow myself the time. My sister and I are very close and have shared a lot. She's really fun to be around, and I can always be myself. Thanks, sis.

(Obviously this is not a recent picture. It sits on my bedside table in a frame Julie gave me a long time ago. It's probably my favorite picture of the two of us.)

Then there's my husband - my best friend. This month, in addition to listening to my constant ramblings and providing emotional support, he gave me an awesome Valentines gift. Out of the blue, he decided to buy me the dining table of my dreams. Now the house feels so much more finished. Here's the old hunk of junk:

And here's the new beauty:

I wasn't head-over-heels until we sat down and ate a meal with our next door neighbors. The table has plenty of space for people and food, but feels very intimate. Now I'm completely in love!

Last, but not least, I want to thank the friends who keep me going on a day-to-day basis - sisters who I talk to on the phone almost daily, friends who make the time and go to the effort to come to my silly little preschool music group on Thursdays. You guys have no idea how much your time and friendship mean to me. I'm a lucky girl!

Random Thoughts

I'm supposed to be doing my taxes, but TurboTax gave me a friendly little message when I signed in telling me that their service is currently unavailable. How can that be? I hope the site is up and running soon, but in the meantime....

• At my ward bookclub a few weeks ago, I was asked to pick a book for May, when it's my turn to host. When I told the women that I had chosen These Is My Words, two different people corrected me, saying, "You mean, these are my words?" Yes, ladies, my grammar is that bad! In reality, I am a grammar snob, and pick apart every little thing I see or hear in the media. That makes this kind of questioning particularly offensive to me. C'mon, ladies, don't you know I'm a genius by now?
• I am dying to plant my garden again! I think about it constantly. For some reason it sounds super fun to spend hours baking in the hot sun with my legs aching from the constant squatting and standing back up. I think I just need something to force me to get outside and get some sort of exercise.
• On that note, I took my first walk in ages today. I allowed the kids to ride their bikes while I pushed Aidan in the stroller. We headed to the library, and it took a full hour to get there! I knew I would need a lot of patience, since this was our first time learning the rules of bike-riding beyond our yard. Luckily the walk home was slightly downhill and went a little faster. I hope I have the patience to try it again soon. It doesn't sound very fun now that we've done it.
• While I was on the phone with my sister Stephanie this morning, Carter really wanted to talk. I gave him the phone and he proceeded to tell her, "I have a little baby brother. His name is Baby Aidan. We got him from my mom's tummy." And then, immediately, "We saw Santa at Grandma Rose's house." I thought the part about where we got Aidan was hilarious, as was the fact that these incidents are not at all related, and not at all recent. Kids say funny stuff.
• When he's not cracking me up with the stuff he says, Carter is trying to send me to a mental hospital. His behavior is the worst it has ever been, and it's constant. He hits and kicks everyone in the family, he talks back and yells at me all the time, he refuses to obey just about anything we ask him to do, and he gets this look on his face and laughs a maniacal laugh that says, "I'll do whatever I want and there's nothing you can do about it." I swear to you I get to the point where I want to throw my hands in the air and walk away from this whole mom gig. I have tried every method of discipline I can think of, and I'm really trying to be consistent and act immediately upon his misbehavior. Any ideas? If he doesn't grow out of this I'm not sure what I'll do......

I guess it's time to see if TurboTax is up again. Later!

So happy...

Lucy wrote a post recently that I really empathized with, as I'm sure most of us can. I have felt overwhelmed for about 5 months now. The first week or two after Aidan was born felt dream-like. I thought to myself several times, "I can do this. It isn't nearly as hard as I feared it would be." We were keeping the house reasonably clean and the kids somewhat under control. We were all blissfully happy about our new little addition, and about having Tanner permanently in our home. I am so grateful for that little calm before the storm. Since then, the house hasn't stayed clean for even 24 hours at a time, and I feel like I'm constantly trying to catch up on something. Laundry and dishes pile up until I'm ready to switch to disposable dishes and send all of our clothes out to be laundered. At times, I'm sure that I'll never feel good about the state of our home again...that I'll never feel satisfied with the attention I've given my kids...I'll never feel like I've had enough sleep to function.


But please keep reading, because this isn't another one of my posts where I tell you about trying to dig myself out of the depths and how hard life is for me (though I admittedly got out my complaints in the first paragraph). I AM HAPPY! Blissfully happy. I feel unbelievably blessed, and spoiled to death most of the time. There are a couple of reasons for this:

• I am head-over-heels in love with my baby! I know I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Aidan is the happiest little baby. He is constantly smiling, and now he laughs. He makes it impossible for me to be unhappy.

• I'm trying to set a good example for Tanner. I have always known that a big part of my role as a mother is to model the behaviors I want my kids to learn. It's a lot easier to get lazy about this when the kids are little and you can convince yourself that they're not really paying attention to every little thing. (Not true at all, I know.) But having a 12-year-old son around all the time has made me very aware of my actions. I want to be an example of healthy eating habits, appropriate speech, manners, compassion toward others, I could go on and on. Above all, I want to model a good attitude. I want him to learn that he can decide to be happy, regardless of the circumstances. I want happiness to come naturally for my kids because that's the environment they grew up in.


• I love my kids. We had trouble having a fourth child, and sometimes I was sure it would never happen. Now I feel so incredibly blessed. There is so much love when you have your first child, and it's amazing how that love multiplies each time you add to your family. I don't feel like a very good mother, but I'm a very grateful one.


• I have the world's greatest husband. John has been so supportive through all of this. I can't imagine that I would be as patient if the roles were reversed. Who doesn't want to come home to a clean house, a yummy dinner, and have clean laundry when it's needed? And even though he doesn't get much of those things now, he still treats me like a princess. I sometimes wonder if he's building me up so that I'll try to aspire to be the person he believes me to be. I have been pretty much a failure as a wife for months now. He must be able to see how hard I'm trying, or he wouldn't be so good to me. Now, this is going to sound pretty materialistic, but it has to be mentioned. For Christmas, John surprised me with a new van. I had already opened some really awesome presents, and was feeling spoiled rotten, when he tricked me into opening a little box that I thought was a bracelet from Katelyn. It turned out to be a key to my 2009 Town & Country, which was sitting in the driveway with a huge gold bow on it. So now you know that I really am spoiled rotten. But my husband is a genius. Right now, my van is my sanctuary. Carter is in such a naughty stage that I sometimes consider throwing my hands in the air and fleeing motherhood, and Katie is 5, but fully willing to add her own rebellion to the situation far too often. Add a crying baby to that (not too often, but it doesn't take much, and he is teething), and I'm stretched beyond my limits. So I load the kids in the van. I heat up my seat and inhale that smell of new leather. Then I wait for the kids to buckle up and put on their wireless headphones. They choose a show - they can both watch the same thing on 2 screens, or they can each choose their own entertainment. There are 2 DVD players, as well as satellite TV with a choice of Cartoon Network, Disney Channel, or Nickelodeon. I put their viewing choices on the screens, they set the switch on their headphones to the screen they want to watch, and we're off. That's when I get to listen to whatever I want, and I've really fallen in love with satellite radio. (Funny, because I thought it was kind of pointless and unnecessary before having it myself.) Call it escapism, but when we get out of the van, my spirit is rejuvenated and I'm ready to take on more mothering challenges. And the entire time we're out, I feel so spoiled, and so loved. It's amazing what push-button sliding doors can do for a weary soul, especially one that's usually toting a gigantic baby in a car seat.

So now I feel a little embarrassed about bragging up my Christmas present, but I have to give my husband credit for doing something that has made such a huge difference in my daily life. And I want to record my thoughts so that someday I can look back on what a happy time this was, even though it's hectic and crazy. Having 4 kids is kicking my butt, but I'm absolutely loving it!

For the record, I wouldn't even be blogging if I didn't feel better about the state of things in my life. I'm just praying that I can keep things under control so that I can start adding some of my "me" things back into my life (blogging, sewing, playing the piano, etc.). Actually, tonight is my first practice with the German choir I'm considering joining. I hope I can make it work. :)