tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60415890706384874632024-03-14T08:34:52.233-06:00Domestic Goddess in TrainingThe story of a full-time mom learning to be good at what she does...Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.comBlogger187125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-22946161948835680482019-02-02T16:04:00.000-07:002019-02-02T16:04:03.258-07:00Thoughts on Losing a ChildIt's been 10 1/2 months since an officer showed up at my door and told me that Tanner was gone. It's therapeutic to retell the details of those first few days, but I'll leave the full story for another time. For the first few hours it felt like a nightmare. I must have said a million times that I wanted to wake up to find that none of it was real. And then a sort of fog came over me. I'm sure there are people who would say that God carried me through, that the fog was the comfort of the Holy Ghost. That's not how I would describe it. Whatever it was, my senses were dulled enough that I was able to kind of sleepwalk through the horrors we had to endure. Telling the kids. Getting Tanner's things out of his apartment, which involved plying hundreds of thumbtacks out of the wall with my fingernails, throwing the dirty socks and underwear in a garbage bag because there was no point in washing them, putting everything in the back of my car not knowing what on earth we were going to do with it all. Then there was the trip to the funeral home, where we talked about how to get Tanner's body to Utah for the funeral and burial after the memorial here in Spokane. Where we were taken into a huge room full of caskets and we had to decide which one was right for our son. I have no clue, not even a ballpark figure, of how much we spent on the casket. It is all such a huge blur.<br />
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I wish I were still in that sleepwalking phase. I think the fog must slowly clear a little each day. And that's the problem. Finding out is hell. I literally fell to the floor like some lady in a tv drama and yelled "no" several times. But I had no idea that it would just get more painful. Every day it becomes a little bit more real. There are new reminders that he's never coming back. And then there are the days when I wake up and think about calling or texting him. and then get the wind knocked out of me with the realization that I can't.<br />
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So I'm sitting here sobbing as I type this, and I am an empty shell. I have no idea who I was on March 15th of 2018, but I am not that person now. I went through a rebirth of sorts when Aidan was diagnosed with cancer. I was actually standing in the same spot in my piano room when I found out about Tanner that I was standing in when the doctor told me about Aidan on the phone. And there was that blur of talking to the doctors, and then 2 days after finding out, we were in the hospital starting the hellish journey that has lasted almost 3 years now. When Aidan got sick I cleared out all of the fluff that I had filled our life with. I'm not sure what all of that fluff was. I know there was helping out in the kids' classrooms, and taking people dinners, and making blankets for my friends' new babies. Most of what I can remember that I used to do was service-oriented. That kind of sucks. But life got filled up with so many appointments. So many appointments. So many trips to the pharmacy. Fighting Aidan to take his meds in the beginning. Then fighting him about every single thing in life. I became a different person. I remember trying to decide if I could let him sleep without me like a normal child. Was I supposed to live life as if every day was the last and be terrified to miss a second? Or was I supposed to believe that he would be ok and try to treat him like a regular kid? The only thing I could do was take myself to the darkest place I could imagine in my mind. I pictured him dying. I tried to picture our family dealing with that. I pictured families I know who have lost children and while it obviously wasn't an easy thing, they were all still alive and breathing. Smiling even, sometimes. I knew that John and I would band together and get our family through it. So I put Aidan in his own bed and started out a new life that I didn't recognize. I was a new person I didn't recognize.<br />
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Aidan's diagnosis came on March 30th, 2016. Tanner went to sleep on March 14th 2 years later and never woke up.<br />
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At some point after Tanner died (not sure when), my brain started processing things. I realized that I had lost all hope. I didn't believe anymore that Aidan would beat cancer. I didn't believe that another one of my kids wouldn't get hit by a bus or that John would make it home safely from work trips. And I realized that when I thought I had faced the idea of death head on, that I had absolutely no clue what it actually looked like.<br />
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So I cleaned house again on what we did with our time. I know that I cut out more of my to-do list after Tanner died to make room for grief. And once again, I can't tell you what I simplified. I don't know what we used to do. I know that we have even more appointments now, because I have every one of us in therapy of some kind, but I cut out a bunch of stuff, and I don't know what. And I lost me.<br />
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So here I am, this empty shell of a person. I take my kids to school in the morning. I try to keep up on laundry. I cook dinner sometimes. We get take out more often. I'm working on being better about that. I drag myself to the grocery store. I guess that's pretty good. For months I couldn't go to the store by myself. The first time I actually did I bought everything I could possibly think of because I couldn't fathom going back. It took 2 shopping carts to get everything to the car. And when the cashier asked me what on earth I was stocking up for, I couldn't help but tell him that my son had died and I can't grocery shop anymore. So I have that basic functioning part of my brain still. The rest of my brain must be gone. I have no idea who I am. Don't get me wrong, I have all of my memories. I have my family and some of my friends. But I don't recognize me anymore.<br />
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I guess this is a chance to reinvent myself. I could decide who I want to be, and then fill myself back up with that new and improved version of me. Any idea how to do that? Maybe I will be more able to do that as time passes. I'm still in the punch-in-the-gut phase of grief. We're still living all of the "firsts." First Christmas. First birthday. First every-tiny-little-thing as these new people who are missing one of their children. It's excruciating. So I'm trying to be very patient with myself. Can't make dinner tonight? Order a pizza and snuggle on the couch with the kids watching stupid stuff on tv. Can't bring myself to run errands during preschool? It's ok. Go lie in bed until it's time to pick up Xander. This is not the time for me to try to accomplish more. The only expectation I really have of myself right now is that I take care of my family. That I am here for my husband, and that I make sure my kids are as ok as they can be. Sometimes the weight of that feels crushing. Often I feel like I can barely breathe. So.......patience.<br />
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If I actually post this to my blog, I have to kindly ask to not hear certain comments. First of all, time does not "heal" in this case. When you lose someone, you learn to live with the giant hole in your heart. It doesn't go away. I really don't want to hear that I need to pray more or have faith. Also, Tanner is not in a better place. His place is with his friends and family. His place is at our dinner table on Thanksgiving. I'm not concerned with where Tanner is, except that he's not with us. Sorry, I've heard a lot of very un-helpful things in the last 10 months.<br />
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If you've read this far, you must be someone who knows and loves me. I realize that it's very garbled and rambling and makes little sense. And it's raw and awful and painful. So I appreciate you getting this far and being here for me and loving me. My relationships are the most important thing to me now. Much love to you for being a friend.<br />
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<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-20009368063278419442015-08-31T10:45:00.001-06:002015-08-31T10:45:38.027-06:00First Day of School '15<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katelyn, 6th grade</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carter, 4th grade</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aidan, 1st grade<br />
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I love these kiddos so much!! I can't believe another school year is here. This year we'll have four kids at the elementary school. Zach starts kindergarten on Thursday, so I'll have to take another round of pictures then. This is Katie's last year of elementary, which makes me sad. Junior high is so difficult, and I just want her to stay young and innocent. Carter is not at all excited for school this year. He's so smart, but he hates school and homework. If it weren't for lunch time with his friends and recess when he can play soccer, I wouldn't be able to get him to school at all. Aidan is very anxious about school, but that's normal for him. I can't recall a day last year when he didn't have anxiety for some reason. I hope that gets better with age.<br />
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I came down with a stomach virus yesterday, which got really bad last night. That made getting backpacks ready and clothes laid out a challenge. We just got back from a trip to Seattle and I didn't get laundry done yesterday, so I had to throw in a load last night. I made the mistake of washing Katie's new rayon jumpsuit, which I realized this morning isn't supposed to go in the dryer. So while the boys' clothes took about 5 minutes to dry, I spent quite a while with a warm iron working on the jumpsuit and then put it on the rack in the dryer. It actually turned out dry enough to wear and didn't shrink. Because of all of this, our morning was just as rushed as I was hoping it wouldn't be. It doesn't help that school starts at 8:30 instead of 9 this year. Katie and Carter decided at the last minute to take lunch from home, so I scrambled to make 3 lunches instead of the one I had planned on. (And of course I threw in some oreos with a note from mom.) I'm going to have the boys shower in the morning this year, so I got them up a little bit early. I consider it a miracle that the kids were all freshly showered, dressed in clean clothes, lunches and all necessary school supplies packed, and had smiles on their faces for pictures. My goal this year is to try my best not to yell in the morning so that the kids get off to school with a peaceful, happy start. It's so hard with all of the anxiety about going to school, fits that get thrown, things remembered at the last minute........I will do better this year. We'll prepare as much as we can at night, then I just need to remind myself all morning to keep my cool.<br />
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We missed the bus. I drove the kids down to the bus stop because we were running late, and we sat in the car and waited for a few minutes. We never saw the bus, so I ended up driving the kids to school. I'm pretty sure we saw their bus on our way, so I think it was running late. Hopefully we'll catch it tomorrow. Last year the bus ride was one hour to school, and one hour home. We live a mile and a half from school, so the kids could have walked home faster. I ended up dropping them off every morning and picking them up from school almost every day. This year they changed the route, so the kids should get off of the bus at 3:10. I hope it really works out that way - it would be nice to not fight the afterschool pickup line every day. <br />
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Anyway, the kids are all safe in their classrooms and I'm home with Xander, and Zach will be home for 3 more days before he starts kindergarten. We were supposed to go for a walk with friends this morning, but remember the part about the stomach virus? I'm lucky I was able to drag myself through the morning! We got home from dropping off the kids and as I was pouring milk in the little boys' Malt-O-Meal I dropped the full gallon on the floor (I'm pretty weak and shaky). So I got to clean up a river/lake of milk and the splashes across the entire floor and on the walls and cabinets. Now would be the time to snuggle up on the couch with the boys and cartoons. Unfortunately, the dog got sick all over the family room rug in the night. So I'm going to drag the carpet cleaner out and work on that for a few hours. At least the baby will nap this afternoon. Wish me luck until then!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">* I apologize for such a detailed description of our morning. It's more for me than anything. I want to remember what life was like with all these kids when they're grown up and my memory is like swiss cheese! *</span><br />
Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-17208668096016268572013-12-26T16:59:00.001-07:002013-12-26T17:01:59.277-07:00Do you watch Duck Dynasty?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I do. Our whole family loves it. Yes, it's gotten more and more staged, and that's bugging me, but I still love those Robertsons. Especially Uncle Si! And I love that they're a large family with strong Christian values. But let's face it - they can be a little hillbilly-ish. Sometimes they say some ignorant-sounding things. And I think that applies to what Phil said in his GQ interview. <br />
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I think A&E may lose some viewers over the choice to suspend Phil. And I kind of hope they do. <br />
Celebrities get away with all sorts of abhorrent behavior without consequences! I could try to explain my stance on the controversy, but I just found a blog post on this topic that I think is brilliant. If you don't have time to read it, here's my favorite quote from the post: <strong>"Jesus is the most real source of mercy in the history of time, and He loves us all with a fierce, indescribable love, and none of us deserve it any less than anyone else, and THAT is the shocking headline we should be proclaiming." </strong>If you do have time, go to <a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/blog/2013/12/21/the-duck-thing-is-there-another-way" target="_blank">Jen Hatmaker's blog</a> and read what she has to say. Jen is very active in the Christian community, and somehow hers is the first Christian voice I've heard preaching love and mercy in this whole thing. I love the idea that, <strong>"Because I love mercy for myself, I can’t help but love it for everyone else, and I won’t cheapen it by imagining that my grace is free but someone else’s must be earned." </strong>If only all Christians could think, and ACT, the way she does.<br />
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Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-92063451233588553602013-11-02T13:22:00.001-06:002013-11-02T13:22:22.355-06:00Envy<div style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is my little horseback riding daughter. Well, not so little, I guess. Katelyn will be 10 in December. She started horseback riding lessons this summer, and she's in heaven! We have the perfect setup, too. She takes lessons with her best friend, who lives almost across the street from us (which is miraculous when you live in the country) and is in her class at school. Their teacher lives very close and picks them up from school twice a week to take them to their lessons. She even delivers them right to our doorsteps when the lessons are over!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Sorry the picture's so blurry)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katie with her best friend Karin on Halloween</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grooming her lesson horse</td></tr>
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So today Katelyn's spending the morning at the stable with her friend, grooming horses and taking a lesson. She spends every spare moment daydreaming about horses, and dreams about them at night, so this is a perfect day for her. And it would be for me, too! I love horses and would love to be taking lessons as well. Maybe when my little boys are all in school. But man, I would rather be spending the morning at the stable than catching up on chores around the house! Lucky girl!</div>
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<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-82662005306583241662013-09-16T17:36:00.001-06:002013-09-16T17:36:52.903-06:00Hi, I'm Melanie, and I have HHT<a href="http://hht.org/" target="_blank">HHT - Hereditary Hemorrhagic Telangiectasia</a>. It's a disease that's been passed down in my family for generations. All three of my sisters have it. My mom and all but one of her siblings have it. And chances are that my kids all have it. I'm not positive about Carter, but I'm pretty sure about the rest of them. Tanner, my stepson, got lucky because he doesn't have my genes.<br />
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HHT causes abnormalities in the blood vessels, usually in the nose and skin, and sometimes in the liver, lungs, and/or brain. Nosebleeds are the most common complaint among HHT sufferers. I've had nosebleeds for as long as I can remember. All of my teachers knew there was a chance that I'd run out of class with my hand cupped over my face. My kids are starting to deal with this now, too. Fortunately, it's really not a big deal.<br />
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But as I get older, my bleeding is getting more severe. It's particularly bad when I'm pregnant, due to the increase of blood volume. I've had some bad enough bleeds to make me weak for quite a while. And it can be pretty scary. I coat the inside of my nose with lanolin at least once a day, and I avoid the most innocent scratching in fear of bleeding. These things help, but I bleed often and without warning. Some days I can't get the bleeding to stop and walk around with tissue shoved up my nose. I just traded in a van that had a nice big blood stain on the driver's seat belt. (Sorry about that. I hope the dealership got it out before some poor soul discovered it in their new van, although it looked kind of brownish. Maybe they wouldn't realize it was blood?)<br />
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This pregnancy has gifted me with the 2 worst nosebleeds I've ever had. I bled like crazy for the first trimester! And then it almost stopped. Apparently the hormone shift in the second trimester worked in my favor. But as I move into my third trimester, it's starting back up.<br />
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Recently, I found a prenatal yoga class, and a good Groupon deal, and started taking yoga again for the first time in years. Yay! I love yoga! The first two classes were awesome - I loooove the instructor. But Thursday night I went for my third class and was sorely disappointed. As soon as I went into my first forward fold, my nose started dripping blood. I cupped my hand under my chin, and grabbed the box of tissue at the front of the class as I ran out the door. I spent some time in the hallway getting it stopped, and even shoved some tissue in my nostril for good measure. Thinking I was safe, I went back in and got into downward dog with the rest of the class. But to my dismay, blood starting seeping through the tissue and I had to run out again. I didn't dare go back inside until the sun salutations were finished. I spent the rest of the class only halfway attempting the positions. Even child's pose puts a lot of pressure on my face. And because of the tissue shoved up my nose, I couldn't get into the breathing properly, which compromised even shavasana at the end, which is my favorite part of the class!<br />
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I was embarrassed and ran out the second the class was over. I felt like crying as I drove away. I was definitely feeling sorry for myself. I thought about my grandma, who eventually died from the complications of HHT, and about my aunts and uncle, who have had significant problems due to the disease. They have had such good attitudes about it. And I realized that of all the hands to be dealt in this life, I would rather this than any other. Everyone has struggles, and I don't know if I could handle anything else. This, I can deal with. I can go to the drive-thru at Wendy's with Kleenex in my nose. I can teach my kids how to deal with nosebleeds. I can manage being really weak from loss of blood. Heck, I'm a pro at getting blood out of just about anything (except seatbelts, apparently). Research is being done and new treatments are being discovered. Hopefully this will become less of a burden, especially as my children grow older.<br />
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I'm not sure when I'll go back to my next yoga class, and when I do, I'll have to explain my nosebleeds to the instructor. She'll be nice and understanding, just like everyone is when I tell them why I'm gushing blood. And I'll remind myself that I'm grateful that I have a body that, even weeks away from delivering a baby, is healthy enough to do yoga. That I've been able to deliver relatively healthy children - as many as I've wanted. And maybe someday I'll stop being such a whiner.Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-78409874350773362042013-09-03T19:08:00.004-06:002013-09-03T19:08:58.401-06:00Frustrations of Motherhood<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
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Like every mother, I'm sure, I have one child who is more difficult than the others. They all have their quirks, and some things I know will be a struggle with particular children. But with my 5-year-old, pretty much everything is a fight. I can't even count on getting out of the car immediately upon arriving somewhere, because I have to coax him out. There's almost always bribery involved, and often I have to resort to threats. Just to get the kid out of the car!<br />
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Today was particularly trying. Maybe it was my fault for over scheduling, but I can almost guarantee that the second half of the day would have been the same no matter when we scheduled it. We started the morning with the first day of preschool for my 3yo and 5yo. It was only an hour, to get them used to the school and their teachers. Both kids had a hard time staying in class and letting me leave, but both also came out an hour later happy and excited to go back tomorrow. Yay! We went to McDonalds for lunch with some of their preschool friends, and then had to stop at the grocery store for a few things on our way home. The boys went nuts at the store, and I wanted to strangle them. It was the same super-hyper, not-listening-at-all behavior that they displayed at bedtime last night and that makes me crazy. They play off of each other and ignore me and I can't handle it!<br />
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In the afternoon, we headed to the doctor for well-child exams. The kids both needed shots, but it was our first time at a new doctor, so the nurse convinced me to schedule a nurse visit for the shots next week. We wanted their first visit to not be a super traumatic one. Well, that all went out the window when the doctor heard a murmur listening to my 5yo's heart. He said we needed to do an EKG, and I was surprised when the nurse wheeled in a machine a few minutes later. It should be such an easy procedure. But by that point, I had already had to coax him into standing on the scale, and then sitting on the table to have his checkup. He decided that there was no way a nurse was going to put a bunch of stickers on his body. I realize that fear could be a big part of his reaction, but I also know him well enough to know that this is something he would not cooperate with under any circumstance. So I held him down and tried to still him enough to get a good reading, which took a while.<br />
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We got through the EKG - my pregnant body was practically dripping sweat from the fight. And then the doc said that we needed to go next door for a chest x-ray. It seemed like such a simple thing. It only takes a minute, right? I knew that we were in for trouble. The x-ray tech had no idea what was coming at him. This tech tried every trick in the book, all involving trying to reason with my child, which I knew was not possible. I finally demanded that he stand where he was supposed to, and even got him to put his hands by his side (20 minutes had already elapsed by this point), but he refused to hold up the barrier to protect his boy parts, and the fight continued. I had to leave the room because of the radiation, and the poor tech took forever to finally get a picture that he said would be acceptable. I apologized profusely as we left, and promised my son that I would make good on my threats. No X-Box or Wii for the rest of the day, due to his disobedience.<br />
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Unfortunately, I found that he had hidden a pack of gum in his pocket at the store earlier, and we got to stop at the store on our way home. I got to have that mom moment when you march your child back in to the store, explain what happened, and have the child apologize. Thinking that he was going to earn back his video game privileges, he did indeed apologize. Outside of the store, I hugged him and praised his good choice. And we had a long talk about stealing. And then we went home to carry out the punishment he had earned at the doctor's office.<br />
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I got home feeling exhausted and discouraged. My child is willfully disobedient. I don't know what to do about it. I try to be consistent with my expectations, and to follow through on my threats. I try to use positive reinforcement as much as possible before resorting to the negative. But nothing gets through to him. What am I doing wrong?!<br />
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The thing about this child is that he is my most loving. He tells me hundreds of times a day that he loves me. He hugs me constantly. He tells me I'm beautiful. He takes time from playing to come over to me and stroke my arm or give me a smile. He is the sweetest thing! Until I want him to do something for me. Anything really. I'm at a loss.<br />
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We all have days when we question our ability to parent our children, right? You've been there too? Not that I would wish a day like today on anyone, but I'm hoping that I'm not alone....<br />
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Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-4155901046698269482013-04-01T21:51:00.001-06:002013-04-01T21:51:44.976-06:00Our bunny died on EasterSeriously. Isn't that awful? It will make for great Easter memories, I'm sure.<br />
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Our German Shepherd puppy, Bandit, loves animals. He likes to hold the cat, the one who will let him, and the bunny, and lick them until they're soaking wet piles of fur. He doesn't mean to hurt them. Unfortunately, yesterday after dinner, Bandit opened the bunny cage (yes, he opened it by himself) and decided to take the bunny out. There was no blood, thank goodness, but the bunny didn't survive. Katie cried and cried while John took care of things and dug a grave. As is our tradition now (we've lost a lot of small pets in the last few years), we each said something we remember about our bunny Gretel, then we shoveled the dirt into the grave. John dug it nice and deep so we don't have to deal with Bandit digging it back up later. That would be awful!<br />
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I've nicknamed Bandit Lennie. You know, from <em>Of Mice and Men</em>? But it's not really funny. I'm just grateful that the dog didn't get the taste of blood. Now we'll have to watch him closely and not let him play with the cat.<br />
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So now we have the first grave in our new pet cemetery. Katie doesn't do death well, not that a 9-year-old should. But she still cries over small pets who've been gone for years. Her sadness is what hit me the hardest, but I'll also miss the boys carrying the bunny around and feeding it carrots and lettuce. It's really sweet seeing your kids being so loving to a little animal.</div>
Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-25189304945883081822013-03-11T13:08:00.000-06:002013-03-11T16:29:24.159-06:00March thoughtsI guess it's time for my semi-annual blog post! ;) I have a lot swimming around in my head, so I'm going to do this list-style:<br />
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<li>I'm feeling extremely grateful for a hardworking husband and too many blessings to list. My hubby spoils me rotten. I don't deserve it, but I'm not complaining!</li>
<li>One of the reasons I'm feeling so spoiled is that I hired a housekeeper. As much as I love my house - and I think it's perfect for a family with 5 kids, 4 of whom are rambunctious boys who get bigger every day - it's just too big for me to keep clean. 6800 sq ft is getting the best of me. So John told me last month I should call the woman who cleaned this house for the former owner. It took a few weeks for me to push the guilt aside and make the call. The first visit was Thursday, and stressed me out completely! First I was worried about having things picked up and dishes done so that the real deep cleaning was all that was left. Then it was the stress of keeping things clean after I'd paid to get it that way. Fortunately, I think I can push through the stress and enjoy having some help. (Can you hear the sarcasm? Poor me, right?) She'll be coming back for a short cleaning this week, then again for the deeper clean next week.</li>
<li>While I'm talking about my house, a week ago tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of putting in an offer on this house. Not an anniversary I'd remember, but it happened the day after my birthday. For the second time in our married life, my husband let me buy a house he'd never seen in person. Now that's trust! Luckily, he's just as happy with our new home as I am. :) We recently had the front page of the house plans framed and hung it above the fireplace in the den. It's really fun to look at.</li>
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<li>I'm reading again! For the last 9 years of my life, I've been convinced that I don't have time for leisure reading. I've read plenty of non-fiction books about child-rearing, but only a book here and there, usually for the neighborhood book club. Well, I finally decided I wanted to read something good, and I started with <u>The Fountainhead</u>, which I've wanted to read forever. I disagreed with a lot of the philosophy in the book, and I felt uncomfortable with it at times. And I loved reading it! I loved having to think, and having to stretch myself. I didn't want to put it down, and finished it pretty quickly, considering how long it is. I think that's what it took to remind myself that I love to read, and to decide that I <em>can</em> make time for reading.</li>
<li>To go with the reading theme, I'm just finishing <u>Heaven is Here</u>, by Stephanie Nielson. You know, Nie Nie who was in the plane wreck? Have you read it? I freely admit that I have never once read her blog, and I was never really interested in her story. That might sound awful, but I heard about her blog and it didn't appeal to me. But the book is amazing. I did have to force myself through the first section about her uber-perfect BYU courtship. But it was necessary to know all about her life in order to understand how much she lost when she got hurt. I have cried and cried as I've read about her struggles, particularly the dark feelings of despair she went through. It helps to know that everyone has trouble in this life, and that my problems are really quite small compared to what others have suffered. (Not that I didn't know that, but reminders don't hurt now and then.)</li>
<li>I have major spring fever! I planted over 600 bulbs in the fall, and I think about them every. single. time. I go outside. Now that some of them are starting to peek out of the ground, I'm going crazy with excitement! Although I'm terrified that the deer are going to eat them. I planted some super tall tulip bulbs that I've wanted to plant for years, but tulips are famous for being "deer candy." I've already sprayed my stinky deer repellent 3 times and I'll be doing it faithfully every week in hopes of not losing my precious flowers to those pesky (and adorable) deer!</li>
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I guess that's all for now. Thanks for stopping by!<br />
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<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-67825626746774991302012-11-02T21:22:00.000-06:002012-11-02T21:22:11.858-06:00A good cry and a cute puppySunday morning around 11am, I'm in my bedroom sobbing. Bawling my eyes out really. Crying is a Sunday morning tradition for me, given that week after week I drag my 5 kids to church by myself, and every single week my 4-year-old refuses to get dressed, throws a huge fit, runs away from me, rips off the clothes I've managed to get on him.....you get the picture. I start the morning off determined to keep a positive attitude, but it's not abnormal for me to break down in tears before pulling myself together and pulling the kids by their <strike>hair</strike> arms into church. Anyway, back to this Sunday at 11am. Actually, let's skip back to 10:45. I sit at the computer eating my breakfast, knowing I need to start getting everyone ready for 1:00 church, but deciding to check a few blogs first. I go to one I haven't read in a while, and bam - I'm reading the most gut-wrenching story. This woman has endured tragedy in the past, and recent events have added to that in ways that seem unfair and un-survivable. The tears are streaming down my cheeks, and when I've finished reading, I run to my room.<br />
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Here we are, back at 11:00. I'm bawling now. I think I needed a good cry. It's been building for a while now. But I'm not just crying for my fellow blogger. I'm crying because she has real, tangible reasons for being sad. I don't. I have a beautiful home; a hard-working, helpful, and loving husband; healthy, happy kids; people all around me who are becoming friends and reach out to me and make me feel welcome. I don't feel justified being depressed. But I have been for weeks now. I had a bit of the blues when we first moved here at the end of June, but it wasn't too bad. This depression doesn't seem to be all about moving. I'm sure it's a factor, as is the changing weather with very little sunshine to be seen, and the fact that we live far enough north that darkness comes far too early in the day. But depression can be pretty anonymous. And it's hard to fix something you can't quite put your finger on.<br />
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I think things are getting better. I've got a church calling that keeps me really busy, and that's probably a blessing. We got a new puppy who needs constant attention (and cleaning up after!), but I think that's good too, because it's hard to sit on the couch and wallow in depression when a little puppy's running around threatening to destroy everything and poop everywhere. But I don't think I'll ever stop feeling guilty for not being annoyingly happy, given all the reasons I have to feel that way. It makes me feel ungrateful. I swear I'm not.<br />
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Now, to reward you for getting this far.....pictures of the world's cutest puppy, Bandit, who is an 8-week-old German Shepherd:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGesL5iBi0f5bkRTDlkESQKCCWouNYQFYQuLhldrGRGa7auKrzOAgKPNg5EkFlrik_4OiB_MpXqm3DntCyeKaWckbYYDbIWDjuvkURxu5C3WOrErNBJE_q5yqECejWc8W6xebaRDe_d8L/s1600/IMG_0706%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiGesL5iBi0f5bkRTDlkESQKCCWouNYQFYQuLhldrGRGa7auKrzOAgKPNg5EkFlrik_4OiB_MpXqm3DntCyeKaWckbYYDbIWDjuvkURxu5C3WOrErNBJE_q5yqECejWc8W6xebaRDe_d8L/s320/IMG_0706%5B1%5D.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the ride to his new home</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meeting our kitten, Fuzzy Wuzzy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrmrDbTPSfzSB2LOg0ZWajVf9pN-ZGTrVJ503_qXfHZ4jMw6fGgIr36b9Gxas5uBFp74inRrQorIKQtguMsEypydd03V5m7GAlxpOd3xAtvVzDkjCdMQIXGHUzVTy0xZL2EfiMQ3A56pX2/s1600/IMG_0711%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrmrDbTPSfzSB2LOg0ZWajVf9pN-ZGTrVJ503_qXfHZ4jMw6fGgIr36b9Gxas5uBFp74inRrQorIKQtguMsEypydd03V5m7GAlxpOd3xAtvVzDkjCdMQIXGHUzVTy0xZL2EfiMQ3A56pX2/s320/IMG_0711%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exhausted from all the excitement</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjALdDOiHfXSi-RVk6c3fQdRKS63LaUckaWkszZXRb8zodgcCNkfleZDdV42wxkQTjzRZwyj6Mkv0iBHdi6K8pU99bie9WnFN4oEU9kxQsYz5pbxm7_RwsW_sIqMRr1KGmh7AL6hBko5HEJ/s1600/IMG_0721%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjALdDOiHfXSi-RVk6c3fQdRKS63LaUckaWkszZXRb8zodgcCNkfleZDdV42wxkQTjzRZwyj6Mkv0iBHdi6K8pU99bie9WnFN4oEU9kxQsYz5pbxm7_RwsW_sIqMRr1KGmh7AL6hBko5HEJ/s320/IMG_0721%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kids are in love. We surprised them after school.<br />
They had no idea.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjrAyppaPF4JbsvjenoFuXwGbNyiq-8J4moCDtO0Ypd6ct6I7iB-S80jP-9di68P5i5EPAqvYGSHvSQ9MzdmwBqvQ76tmCK68sL4jLKI14bQc1TfiMnbYeUtnqBqO9o7kn_TsnBuW0PgGL/s1600/zach+with+puppy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjrAyppaPF4JbsvjenoFuXwGbNyiq-8J4moCDtO0Ypd6ct6I7iB-S80jP-9di68P5i5EPAqvYGSHvSQ9MzdmwBqvQ76tmCK68sL4jLKI14bQc1TfiMnbYeUtnqBqO9o7kn_TsnBuW0PgGL/s320/zach+with+puppy.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zach loves Bandit almost as much as Katie does.<br />
And he's not the tiniest bit afraid of him.</td></tr>
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Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-36430710760357261772012-08-03T18:04:00.001-06:002012-08-03T22:38:48.648-06:00Catching upWe've been living in our new house, in a new city and state, for over a month now. I've started several blog posts in that time, but I can't seem to put my thoughts into an organized post, so I'm starting over in a list format. Here goes!<br />
<br />
<strong>I am thankful for:</strong><br />
<ul>
<li><strong>My running route.</strong> I'm so excited that our home is on the road we used to run/walk when we lived here five years ago! (John ran, I walked - with the double jogger) Now that I've become a runner, I run the first 4 miles and walk the last 1.25. That last part includes a super hard hill that I just can't run yet, but I'm working up to it. I love that I get to run past wheat fields and watch their transformation from green to gold. I love the foresty parts and the smell of the pine trees. I love the little streams along the side of the road, and the open fields where cows graze. I love, love, love the wildlife! There are always deer, and sometimes wild turkeys, pheasants, chipmunks, squirrels. (Five years ago, Alisa and I came across a porcupine that scared us to death, but I haven't had that happen again...yet.) I run with one headphone so I can still hear the sounds of nature. I hope I never take for granted the beauty I get to enjoy while I'm burning calories!</li>
<li> <strong>Space. </strong>Our new house is almost 3 times the size of our old one. While this presents some problems, like lack of furniture and decor, I'm enjoying the open feeling. I'm trying to get organized, get rid of stuff I should have tossed when I was packing, and I want to avoid filling all of the space with clutter. Did I mention the storage space? I have more cupboards and closets than I know what to do with (I hope it stays that way), and we all have walk-in closets. John and I even get our own! Mine's pretty empty, in case you're wondering. ;)</li>
<li><strong>Our view/neighborhood. </strong>The main thing that made me choose our house is the property. We have five acres, as do the surrounding homes, and we're on the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palouse" target="_blank">Palouse</a>. This means we're surrounded by rolling prairie. There are lots of wheat fields, and tons of pine trees. It's beautiful! And I get that view from almost every window in the house! (Not from the smaller bathroom windows.) From our deck, we can watch the sun set and the moon rise at the same time. And it's so peaceful! We hear the occasional car or truck, but most of the sounds are from the wildlife. We feel like we're in heaven all of the time!</li>
<li><strong>The people here. </strong>We have been welcomed with open arms. The people at church have been amazing! We've been invited to dinner by a few different families, and even to someone's lake cabin for a day. That was super fun! I don't feel like I have super close friends yet, and it's a little lonely, but that's normal. I feel blessed to have people who are nice, friends we can call for the kids to play with, and people I know I can call if I need something.</li>
<li><strong>Friends and family </strong>who helped in a million ways to get our house on the market and packed and cleaned, and to get us moved here. My mom gave so much of her time to help me paint, fix things, and pack up at our old house. I don't know what I would have done without her! My sister was a great help, too. My mother-in-law helped paint, and took the kids a bunch of times so I could work without them in my hair. Shane and <a href="http://becky-kump.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Becky</a> helped us pack our junk into the moving truck for our first trip up. Without them and our next door neighbor, we would have been packing our giant U-Haul by ourselves. Not fun! <a href="http://www.fourhandsomefellasandme.com/" target="_blank">Ginger</a> took time to hang out with me and my crazy kids so I could take a breather from the stress of moving. She even pretended to like our company! ;) And I had other friends and neighbors offer to help in other ways, especially by taking the kids for a while. It feels nice to be loved and supported by so many helpful people!</li>
</ul>
<strong>I miss:</strong><br />
<ul>
<li><strong>My friends and family, </strong>of course. We can't just drive to see grandmas and grandpas, or meet up with them for dinner whenever we want. I can't call up a friend and go get pedicures, take the kids swimming, or grab dinner. I can't meet up with my sister or go visit her just to get out of the house. Thank goodness for Facebook, texting, and my phone. And thanks for calling me or answering when I call you. It's definitely a little lonely in a new place before you really make good friends.</li>
<li><strong>My neighbors. </strong>We had no idea when we moved into our old house that we would make such strong bonds with the neighbors. My next door neighbors are like surrogate grandparents to our kids, and were two of my best friends. I could run next door for any reason, any time. I enjoyed their company and loved just knowing they were right there if I needed them. I've talked to them on the phone a few times since we moved and will continue to do so. I love them! There are other wonderful people in our old neighborhood whom we miss terribly. Luckily for us, they're watching over our still-not-sold house as it sits there empty.</li>
<li><strong>My old house. </strong>Just kidding! Maybe it's because we still own it and are still paying the mortgage and power and water! I got a little emotional when I drove away from it at 2 am after cleaning for hours and hours and trying to cram the last little items into John's truck! I will always love the memories we made in that house. But it's just a house, and we brought our memory-makers with us. I don't miss the icky, icky basement or the feeling of being on top of each other. I'll probably have a harder time once we actually sell the place, if we ever do!</li>
</ul>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUEuVSZj6gY7sssXvZRBa_iY4rLJUvBGKu7MLm6oeSg8AVU6nxMLhQyay0uUJfB9F0fpFPtcnAjGWWInCxprl__Fa18pg8PjH-_UAvMb4NUmdSDgV9ctQqGMQc9dzmqk85LlWQFonU6ko/s1600/IMG_0187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUEuVSZj6gY7sssXvZRBa_iY4rLJUvBGKu7MLm6oeSg8AVU6nxMLhQyay0uUJfB9F0fpFPtcnAjGWWInCxprl__Fa18pg8PjH-_UAvMb4NUmdSDgV9ctQqGMQc9dzmqk85LlWQFonU6ko/s1600/IMG_0187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a>Here are some pictures, just for fun. :)<br />
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The view from the back of our house, scanning left to right:</div>
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Our family room and the only new furniture we'll have for quite a while ;)</div>
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The kitchen, in all of its oak glory:</div>
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Except with these stools (oops, they're new, too):</div>
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Hallway:</div>
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Basement family room:</div>
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The big red slide downtown:</div>
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Zach loves the new kitty:</div>
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Ta ta for now! :)<br />
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<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-66410306395053727832012-04-19T17:41:00.001-06:002012-04-19T17:41:43.795-06:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm sitting in my bed, holding a bunch just like this, given to me by my sweet little six-year-old. He's watched me stop on our way to school to bury my nose in these beautiful lilacs and inhale deeply. He knows how much I love them, so he wanted to bring some to me as he headed home from the park with his dad. John took the kids to play for a while, both to spend some time with them, and to give me a much needed break.<br />
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It's been a horendous week. It's only Wednesday, and I can really say that it's been awful. I spent the time while the kids were gone in the tub. It was peaceful and wonderful, and I knew it was coming to an end. So I got out and opened the bathroom door, and was smacked in the face with reality. It's still light outside. Meaning the kids aren't in bed yet, so that battle is still to be fought. The house is such a mess that I want to close my eyes and pretend it's not real. I get dressed and sit in bed. And I contemplate, seriously, running away. I could run away from it all. Clearly I'm not cut out for this, and they would all be better off with someone who can handle it all.<br />
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My thoughts are interrupted by the front door opening and my bedroom door handle being jostled from the outside. In runs Carter, yelling, "I have a surprise for you." The look on his face as he pulls the lilac blossoms from behind his back is priceless. I smile and thank him, and kiss him on the cheek. Then I listen as he runs to tell the rest of them that I loved them and gave him a kiss.<br />
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And then I sit, smelling the lilacs and sobbing.Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-61019870397536121322012-03-06T13:18:00.000-07:002012-03-06T13:18:09.332-07:00Dream Home #2When I was watching my dream house (you know, the one that sold before we could make an offer?), hoping & and praying that it wouldn't sell, I kept telling myself that if it was meant to be, it would work out - that we would find something even better suited to our family. And then the news came that someone bought my house. And I had a harder time convincing myself that we really would find something better. It seemed like we would find a house that was second best and convince ourselves that we love it.<br />
<br />Well my mom & I flew to Spokane Saturday morning and spent two days looking at houses. I think we saw 16 homes. My hopes were pretty high. After all, I'm shopping for bigger & nicer houses than I was last time around. But house shopping is house shopping, and we couldn't believe some of the things we saw. Apparently there are a lot of people on south hill in Spokane who think their houses are worth a ton because of location, and have completely missed the styles changing over the past 20 years. Oh, and the most expensive house we saw on Saturday was in such a state of chaos that we could have vomited! (This one was on High Dr., Spokane gals.) Not a single bed was made, the counters were piled with dishes caked with stuck-on food. Cabinet doors were hanging open with their contents spilling out. And the basement was a cat-odor nightmare. There was even a plate of dried up chow mein (I think?) on the floor in the middle of the room, I'm assuming for the cats. I could have overlooked the mess if the house had been what I wanted, but it wasn't, so it makes for a good story.<br />
<br />We saw one home Saturday and one Sunday that were gorgeous. The walls were all painted in the perfect colors, the floorplans were new and open, the kitchens beautiful, and every fixture in the house new. One even had 1.8 acres and a gorgeous view of the prairie. But the house that felt the best to me was the one we've been eyeing for quite a while online. It's on 5 acres, already set up for horses with fencing and a small stable. (Not that we'll have horses, but I like having the option.) It's not on our road, but it's on the road that we made an extension of our running route when we trained for the Bloomsday race. (Ben Burr, in case you're wondering.) And while it's on the prairie with stunning views, it's right around the corner from the elementary school and the grocery store. We knew the home was dated from the pictures, but it took being inside to realize that it needs a major overhaul. The carpets are in good shape, but uglier than ugly, and they probably had to clear an entire forest for the oak in the house. A lot of that can be fixed with paint, but the kitchen is bad enough to need a remodel. (Darn it, I'll have to design my dream kitchen!) So at the risk of making you think I've lost my mind, here are some pictures:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHVL1tTLqkCc3yYafOzErG5I9VIQnoO4adhn0dsyz1WkowwAua35Yoygmbp8N9jd83Tuilue0aRmQ0-uskmeY6jsvYaRaZvUV7vsr-P5FFujXkPjnojKzKzrXRsG9MM6mIrP6nOqXQWLq/s1600/housefront.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixHVL1tTLqkCc3yYafOzErG5I9VIQnoO4adhn0dsyz1WkowwAua35Yoygmbp8N9jd83Tuilue0aRmQ0-uskmeY6jsvYaRaZvUV7vsr-P5FFujXkPjnojKzKzrXRsG9MM6mIrP6nOqXQWLq/s400/housefront.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">front of the house</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNknBU1xAEg2OehnwdGya8wNRlM7eztunrIvkge3T3UOJzu7xlhz86fetLbWxGV5-JkoxpnQJZ7oscu7PB9G5KSQ5prODdeoR2NtynyNCaKCLjk-m-Q1ZZwH3DO-wXJ9l2sBhRDSzqCv3/s1600/backofhouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNknBU1xAEg2OehnwdGya8wNRlM7eztunrIvkge3T3UOJzu7xlhz86fetLbWxGV5-JkoxpnQJZ7oscu7PB9G5KSQ5prODdeoR2NtynyNCaKCLjk-m-Q1ZZwH3DO-wXJ9l2sBhRDSzqCv3/s400/backofhouse.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">back of the house</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6M1-EA1kDiqJv24sKoEmVjcm3NlwBiiPWKPeKucwL_2wN_ncTspLQ6Xz5x44LIWX7qdBAO3ACcSMS439T3voPVBI4IaIDRzIeNX8_pJ_uq43L20shjz5Fcd6yXGoOhyphenhyphencK823edUibWZMG/s1600/entry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6M1-EA1kDiqJv24sKoEmVjcm3NlwBiiPWKPeKucwL_2wN_ncTspLQ6Xz5x44LIWX7qdBAO3ACcSMS439T3voPVBI4IaIDRzIeNX8_pJ_uq43L20shjz5Fcd6yXGoOhyphenhyphencK823edUibWZMG/s400/entry.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">foyer<br />
(open doors on the left lead to the master,<br />
the opening you can barely see on the right is the formal LR)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2h1vq5xShH44F-WXArHtW1LxuzZqnDBrFbeJu4SvwpkodNpbWI1k2T6GGziwB9qlpxuAK8XW8ZJbI4PuNCIQJa8qsVm7c-7DlGxwXMYQuqj2ajkpVDb2Wk-cODdJSso2klQHBEJYWad6/s1600/formaldining.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2h1vq5xShH44F-WXArHtW1LxuzZqnDBrFbeJu4SvwpkodNpbWI1k2T6GGziwB9qlpxuAK8XW8ZJbI4PuNCIQJa8qsVm7c-7DlGxwXMYQuqj2ajkpVDb2Wk-cODdJSso2klQHBEJYWad6/s400/formaldining.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">formal dining room<br />
(door on the right is the front door)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4z5vRMPqYyqBe2wL70t5mDQVUbe31uMcw-J8Vxa_Eq496DhEQ2_IyA3n9oh1dOrwx5rYhp731Up3Yrskso-My4L-mqVFeFDk6mJyaT-m2-7xQwO54ILHb_QZsXbjaJsNtwhO6W9jDPrMG/s1600/formalliving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4z5vRMPqYyqBe2wL70t5mDQVUbe31uMcw-J8Vxa_Eq496DhEQ2_IyA3n9oh1dOrwx5rYhp731Up3Yrskso-My4L-mqVFeFDk6mJyaT-m2-7xQwO54ILHb_QZsXbjaJsNtwhO6W9jDPrMG/s400/formalliving.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">formal living room<br />
(window looks out on back yard)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5cdVxjm8nW5_mbCl8eLsoF-AaQWy4gHL8qjqJ65-8ZK1LklV3uqm3FG7qU_XT8IXOnCxJJrrMnaJzfWnAZY7-26962HIpYTl3PInxw8pMJAqAG760SrfV6tK67cypR5Ztir2Vn5VTJmZ/s1600/kitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc5cdVxjm8nW5_mbCl8eLsoF-AaQWy4gHL8qjqJ65-8ZK1LklV3uqm3FG7qU_XT8IXOnCxJJrrMnaJzfWnAZY7-26962HIpYTl3PInxw8pMJAqAG760SrfV6tK67cypR5Ztir2Vn5VTJmZ/s400/kitchen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">kitchen<br />
(window looks out to back yard)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQJRDoEZss7vy-MyLYUmjLp_7FMvIPcbvzaPIgNcjaok7I_C9ursJvgSXTAbXWS0WE9kcYDyQMO-KAm-nxSghpp7HlTINa_qthwk1irJKMehssODs1-2fcyG7PKOHg3PNenk8bOZ69TdL/s1600/informaldining&familyroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQJRDoEZss7vy-MyLYUmjLp_7FMvIPcbvzaPIgNcjaok7I_C9ursJvgSXTAbXWS0WE9kcYDyQMO-KAm-nxSghpp7HlTINa_qthwk1irJKMehssODs1-2fcyG7PKOHg3PNenk8bOZ69TdL/s400/informaldining&familyroom.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">informal dining & family room<br />
(windows on left look over back yard,<br />
kitchen is behind the photographer)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisDfql734RfTSHB1jOA6yCJryoMLs7RkDpN9eVwp3_gNWfxPHwehJk5ZZux3ne92d4P47xkZEziWZMS3eNzRuuw-T0TnKbs0coYi7uYh70LXYbxYB0imw-RngWonjjhxQBLBf2l80urEIx/s1600/fromfamilyroomtokitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisDfql734RfTSHB1jOA6yCJryoMLs7RkDpN9eVwp3_gNWfxPHwehJk5ZZux3ne92d4P47xkZEziWZMS3eNzRuuw-T0TnKbs0coYi7uYh70LXYbxYB0imw-RngWonjjhxQBLBf2l80urEIx/s400/fromfamilyroomtokitchen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">looking from family room through to kitchen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDNOWw87fDRX8Rx5kKCJ6-TXwx-Ap_52AGGkiRs1i57jOh4bUyiL3cjF-WYqjWyKWU-2A8em1n2fQQuMwtz2xp9SP_7I1JHdbJeha-GvuZIzGAuPeY0YsiGnkbN4-WWj8jAcl4S2mUDA0/s1600/master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDNOWw87fDRX8Rx5kKCJ6-TXwx-Ap_52AGGkiRs1i57jOh4bUyiL3cjF-WYqjWyKWU-2A8em1n2fQQuMwtz2xp9SP_7I1JHdbJeha-GvuZIzGAuPeY0YsiGnkbN4-WWj8jAcl4S2mUDA0/s400/master.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">master bedroom<br />
(doors go to backyard, bathroom & closets are to the left)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYzxxRRFWORy9AtFT6_6ljr834psvaAJFKX_KVWJwMlXbH8xJ3dbyHxceUNu_ADaaOFDG_gq266Rd38_WvMj-62BYCQnhVMwcT5Rqc2Q1kBj-MHlciFcarwlKy7uu0jjsm_RW288gjzWtb/s1600/masterbath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYzxxRRFWORy9AtFT6_6ljr834psvaAJFKX_KVWJwMlXbH8xJ3dbyHxceUNu_ADaaOFDG_gq266Rd38_WvMj-62BYCQnhVMwcT5Rqc2Q1kBj-MHlciFcarwlKy7uu0jjsm_RW288gjzWtb/s400/masterbath.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">master bath<br />
(windows look to the backyard)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZvZ3WyOMCI8lXOD7xAYpQNLi9VTVsDGg_Y0-tHF8rnxfyCbkw1ZemlQIrPOB5SWeDXl7_o-MF0vWc2ZuHLrzPhk0vpTMIMJCZ3acfG-5EFJ-Uy3CiCt20derW6XXT5hzlZFLV11OrqOVt/s1600/driveway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZvZ3WyOMCI8lXOD7xAYpQNLi9VTVsDGg_Y0-tHF8rnxfyCbkw1ZemlQIrPOB5SWeDXl7_o-MF0vWc2ZuHLrzPhk0vpTMIMJCZ3acfG-5EFJ-Uy3CiCt20derW6XXT5hzlZFLV11OrqOVt/s400/driveway.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">looking down the driveway to the street</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I know it's impossible to really picture it all, but that gives you an idea. I'm going to make the formal dining area into a living room and make the formal living room John's office. It has french doors and built-in cabinets, so it's perfect. There are 3 bedrooms & 2 baths on the 3rd floor, a guest bedroom with attached bathroom on the main level, and another bedroom downstairs for Tanner. There's a workout room downstairs, and room for a ping pong table and pool table or something else, a full family room, and mini kitchen. This house gives us the space for all of our kids and their friends, even when they're teenagers. And the land gives them room to run and be free. It just feels like us.</div>
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We placed an offer last night, and I'll be on pins and needles all day. So since I can't stop thinking about it for a minute, I figured I'd share. :)</div>
<br />Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-18781096888382747362012-02-14T17:10:00.000-07:002012-02-14T17:16:16.709-07:00For My Valentine<br />
In June, my hubby and I celebrated 10 years of being married to each other. We've actually known each other for much longer than 10 years. When I met him, he looked like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJPyzuQ8o8KrsgdrqyWnV22_VOHXck4WPc1tcpNlGBmDelEOa8aKQQDU0qdB3KrX8z185-P_0j0m59TwNW3K7zNUO4lko1Mdg7NQempdWaadtm5pbIZQACJNY3p42805y2iU5WmHCk4IaN/s1600/jb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJPyzuQ8o8KrsgdrqyWnV22_VOHXck4WPc1tcpNlGBmDelEOa8aKQQDU0qdB3KrX8z185-P_0j0m59TwNW3K7zNUO4lko1Mdg7NQempdWaadtm5pbIZQACJNY3p42805y2iU5WmHCk4IaN/s320/jb.jpg" width="226" /></a></div>
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(Yes, he's going to kill me for posting that picture.) We were babies. We popped in and out of each other's lives for years. Then in 1998 we got smart enough to realize we should be together. John got his MBA <em>and</em> decided he wanted to go to medical school before we were even married. I took pre-vet classes while he went back and took pre-med classes. (And he got another Master's degree. Show off!) In 2001 we tied the knot,<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcu7MMo1SwEyvZ1lV8DWv5nCSVX82upbgrN0ov0bqdcFYnQ5zVKtcC40MruC3ZIY_lE_tIHMxrWGFs0ZuprPO4FoOrK9vduOp1mofUXTnZlaX_NtK2ZOI7khfPjha6O_pl8nqf_eC7JiA/s1600/wedding6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcu7MMo1SwEyvZ1lV8DWv5nCSVX82upbgrN0ov0bqdcFYnQ5zVKtcC40MruC3ZIY_lE_tIHMxrWGFs0ZuprPO4FoOrK9vduOp1mofUXTnZlaX_NtK2ZOI7khfPjha6O_pl8nqf_eC7JiA/s400/wedding6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
toured Europe with my dad,<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhockvFk8YOUfbLQingIS3-pOTmekz4pJIh_By6adG6DpsP2-sXbKE4aE4oFWk5Q8fYAwclQKbYhA_cwDedhl0NM3A5tI5cChXrwUpUI8933urN7DJnkc0kAmoyoRnbZ1Y10B6CuS2A7yv7/s1600/ChiemseeTrain2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhockvFk8YOUfbLQingIS3-pOTmekz4pJIh_By6adG6DpsP2-sXbKE4aE4oFWk5Q8fYAwclQKbYhA_cwDedhl0NM3A5tI5cChXrwUpUI8933urN7DJnkc0kAmoyoRnbZ1Y10B6CuS2A7yv7/s400/ChiemseeTrain2.jpg" width="390" /></a></div>
<br /> and John started medical school. I decided to change my major to piano, and John got to listen to me pound on the keys for hours a day while he studied. Together we lived through OB, surgery, and medicine rotations, to name the harder ones. He came to my jury performances and I cheered him on as he took test, after test, after test, after test. We flew across the country together so that he could interview for residency programs. We agonized for hours at a time as we decided how to rank our choices of residencies. We celebrated together when he got his first choice, and took off together to live in Spokane for a year. <br />
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<br />That year of internship was filled with nights of working late, far too many overnight call shifts, and plenty of stress. And then we came back to Salt Lake for 4 more years of residency. More studying and all of the steps of the boards passed - physics, written, and oral. (My hubby is one hard worker and amazingly intelligent!) John decided what he wanted to specialize in and did everything right so that we could stay here for another year for fellowship. For 4 years now, he's been getting up extra early most days of the week to work at the methadone clinic downtown before going to work. And for a couple of years he's taken his vacation time to cover for a doc in Roosevelt so we could have some extra cash.<br />
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Through all of this, we've seen more than 4 pregnancies come and go. :( We've delivered 4 beautiful babies together. We went from having visitation of Tanner to welcoming him into our home full time. We've lived through the sleepless nights and the incomparable fun of having babies. We've cleaned poop off of things we never imagined would ever have poop on them. We've watched babies learn to walk, and loved listening to them learn to talk. We've seen things we love get destroyed by our little monsters. We've watched them fight and play and love each other. We've spent Saturday nights with our best friends, watching our kids grow up together. We've seen every kid show there is.We've lived an incredible life so far!<br />
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We're about to begin a new adventure together as a family. Fellowship is almost over - I can hardly believe it! We're headed back to Spokane, a place we fell in love with together. We're shopping for our dream home and planning incredible things to do with our kids. And it's just the beginning of another chapter in our life.<br />
<br />I'm so grateful that I married my best friend. I'm grateful for how hard he works, and for how much he loves me. He tries to make me laugh every day of my life. He's the most amazing father to our kids. He's an amazing guy in general. Happy Valentines Day, Dr. Bell. I love you!Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-42129107486542862442012-01-30T21:10:00.000-07:002012-01-30T21:10:00.172-07:00Broken dreamsWe're moving to Spokane. At the end of June. Did you know that already? John got a position at a really awesome partnership, and the job starts July 1st. Having lived there for a year for John's internship before residency, we know that city and feel quite at home there, so we're pretty excited. (Not thrilled about leaving our friends and family here, though.) I know which schools are my top choices for the kids, and we've got a few neighborhoods where we'd prefer to live.<br />
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Actually, we flew to Spokane in October for the interview and they set us up with a realtor to show us around. We specifically asked her to show us a house we were dying to see. It's on this road:<br />
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This is the mailbox belonging to the house next door:<br />
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This is down the road less than 1/4 mile and across the street:<br />
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And this is what you see when you walk further down the road on the trail we walked/ran over and over when we lived there. (You know? The one I've blogged about over and over, and over and over. Until you're sick of hearing it. That one.)<br />
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We weren't sure what to expect when we looked at the house, but I fell in love instantly. Open floor plan, lots of windows and very bright, ranch style so the kitchen and family room walk straight out to the back yard, tons of yard for the kids to play in, fully fenced.....you get the idea. It was my dream home. John liked it too. And once he excepted the job offer, I helped him to fall in love, too. We came up with a plan to build a pool/guest house, and I moved in mentally. I practically have the pictures hung and the clothes put away in the closets. We offered on the home in December, on the advice of our realtor, just hoping to secure it even though we can't close until May 1st at the earliest. Not surprisingly, that was too far off for the seller and they declined our offer. So we've watched the house daily and kept our fingers crossed that it would stay on the market.<br />
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And it did! Until yesterday. The new buyers closed on the home yesterday. Someone bought my house. My dream house. I'm shattered.<br />
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But I knew there was a good chance this would happen. I knew it was dumb to allow myself to fall so head-over-heels in love. I realized that I might end up right where I am. :(<br />
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I'm OK. I'm trying to see it as an opportunity. Now I get to go house shopping. Not that I haven't looked at every single home for sale in Spokane on the internet a million times already. Every.Single.One. But who knows what will come on the market before we move? And there are some other good possibilities. We'll end up in a lovely home and we'll be happy. I just know it.<br />
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But I can't say that I won't drive by that house when we get there and think about what might have been...Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-41379974858893821892012-01-26T15:07:00.003-07:002012-01-26T15:07:47.133-07:00I think I can, I think I can.....<div>
In high school I played field hockey. We usually ran a few miles before practice, then spent the hours of practice running drills. I played right wing, which meant I spent every game sprinting up and down the side of the field. I was in good shape. Like we all were in high school, right?</div>
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After high school, I headed down to BYU, where I lived in the dorms. My roommate was one of my best friends, and we quickly made friends with girls on our floor. We'd all go to the BYU track and run together. We were worried about the "freshman 15." (And for good reason. I definitely gained those 15 pounds in the first year!)</div>
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Sometime since then, I decided that I'm not a runner. Partially because I always hated running. And partially, I think, because my husband is a runner. He runs really far, really fast, and who can keep up with that? I started having babies, and walking with the stroller. When we moved to Spokane for a year, I became a hard-core walker, even walking the famous Bloomsday race with the double stroller. I was officially a walker, and swore that I'd never run again.<br />
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When we moved back to SL, I tried to keep up the walking. But it was hard. I'd have to drive to get to a decent trail, and my neighborhood is mostly flat streets and really ugly houses. (Really!) Not so fun when I was used to <a href="http://bellmel.blogspot.com/2007/06/walking-regal.html" target="_blank">this</a>. I had a few more kids, and pretty much stopped exercising. And for some reason (cue sarcastic voice) I gained more weight than I ever imagined I would. Luckily, I have an awesome friend who's a devoted runner, and who runs <a href="http://www.ragnarrelay.com/race/wasatchback" target="_blank">Ragnar</a> every year and loves it. Her enthusiasm and repeated attempts to get me to join her team, along with my desperation to get back in shape, convinced me to sign up for her team for the upcoming race in June. Darn you, <a href="http://becky-kump.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Becky</a>!<br />
<br />I mapped out 2 different routes that both, coincidentally, came out to 1.3 miles. The first time I ran, my only goal was to do it without stopping. And I did! I was shocked that I could do it, and so excited! That was a few months ago. I've been trying to run or workout on our elliptical machine 2 or 3 times a week since then. I haven't been terribly successful, but I'm trying. This month, I finally dared to try two laps of my route, and I was once again amazed that I could do it without stopping. So my new distance is 2.6 miles, and I'm not going back.<br />
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As I ran yesterday, I felt the same disdain for running that I always have. I get so nervous when I'm running, like I felt when I ran track in junior high. I would love to stop at any second and just be done. I can't catch my breath, I feel like it's hard just to pick my feet up for each step. But in my old age and maturity, I'm learning to see running differently. For one thing, I need it. I need to retrain my body to move and be strong. And I'm grateful that I can do it - that I don't have injuries or illness that keep me from being mobile. Most importantly, I see it as a test of will. It's completely mind over body, and I feel like a stronger person for every mile that I push my body to run without giving up. That's the strength that I really need - to know that I can do whatever I put my mind to.<br />
<br />So I now declare myself a runner. I have a lot of learning and growing to do, and I may never say that I love running. But I love the feeling I had when I finished another 2.6-mile run yesterday. I can do this! </div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-4138588940618316052011-11-16T11:13:00.006-07:002011-11-16T12:13:00.977-07:00Gratitude #1I've been enjoying reading on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span> and blogs about all the things my friends are grateful for. It wouldn't be right for me to remain silent, when I've been blessed with so much. I chose today to start because I'm having a particularly difficult time feeling good about things. My two youngest have been sick for a few days now with a croupy cough and high fevers. On Monday night it hit me, too, and the past 2 days have not been very fun. So in an attempt to quit feeling sorry for myself, here's a list of things I'm thankful for right now:<br /><ul><li>My husband, who came home to a disaster last night and immediately took over caring for the babies so that I could drag my sick body and the big kids to karate. He somehow managed to clean the kitchen while I was gone, and it has made all the difference today!<br /></li><li>The break we've had from sickness in our house for quite a while. The big kids have been battling colds for the last 2 weeks, but nothing major. We haven't had a huge family illness for what seems like months. I have to be grateful for that!</li><li>A sister who will let me whine to her on the phone about <span style="font-style: italic;">how hard it is to be a sick mom with sick kids! </span>Poor me, right? Thanks, Cassie. :)</li><li>The cute things kids say. Last night it was all I could manage to strap the kids into car seats and go get tacos for dinner. As we walked into the house with our bags of fast food, Aidan said to me, "Mom, you're good at getting tacos!" And he gave me a big hug. My heart broke for how sweet he is and how uplifting that should be, and for what a lame mom I am. We've been eating out way too much recently.</li><li>And for this: <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoC7avjsgnOsayrwh41O6GJpzGqjZ820XLH5dsP0Ot-FMBPGjizPfW0UoFpX7r9BF_7Bye787i-iMmW4ugohI_4f3Q7-vfxHzkEQFLy4BqJ3LSPSN_DB5xdcSM8RLdcqlKWXaqxLamrt_/s1600/zach.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAoC7avjsgnOsayrwh41O6GJpzGqjZ820XLH5dsP0Ot-FMBPGjizPfW0UoFpX7r9BF_7Bye787i-iMmW4ugohI_4f3Q7-vfxHzkEQFLy4BqJ3LSPSN_DB5xdcSM8RLdcqlKWXaqxLamrt_/s400/zach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675672664802928946" border="0" /></a> This not-so-great picture was taken on my phone in the dark. My poor sad babies have finally gone down for naps (fingers crossed that they'll stay asleep!) and I'm going to attempt to shower so I can be presentable at parent-teacher conferences today. Hurray for showers!<br /></li></ul>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-90931420088196146882011-08-08T21:35:00.002-06:002011-08-08T22:22:04.573-06:00Monday Night Musings<ul><li>Wow! More than 2 months since my last post! I'm hoping that school starting and getting back into a routine will mean more blogging. Hoping.</li><li>Speaking of school, I'm a little nervous for the kids to go back. (This year I'll have one in high school (seriously, high school!!!), one in 2nd grade, one in kindergarten, and one in preschool - I haven't decided if I'm doing preschool myself or sending the crazy one to someone else.) I set unreasonably high expectations for myself, and the return to routine makes me think I should suddenly be able to move mountains on a daily basis. I need to cut myself some slack. We'll see about that...</li><li>I love Kohl's a little more each year. Last year my 30% off coupon came at back-to-school time and saved me big bucks on junior high wear. Today I realized that my 20% expired yesterday, and my new 20% starts Wednesday. I planned to wait until Wed until I realized that Kohl's cash ends tomorrow. So I was bold enough to go in and ask if they'd let me use one today, and the cashier said yes. She had no idea what she was getting herself into! I came back in with 6 kids (my soon-to-be-high-schooler needed his best friend, AKA wardrobe consultant, with him) and returned to her 2 hours later - yes TWO HOURS later - with enough clothes to earn me $100 in Kohl's cash. Please don't do the math or you'll most likely vomit. Needless to say, it was worth asking to use the coupon today!</li><li>Two hours in a department store with an 18-month-old and an almost-3-year-old is enough to make a mom lose her mind. However, watching the other kids bask in new clothes bliss almost makes up for it. The oldest is trying to change his look for high school, and is putting way more thought into it than I ever realized boys do. It's fun to watch him stress out over it. And it's even more fun to watch the middle kids change outfits and run around in new shoes with new backpacks on.</li><li>I'm a better mom to babies than to older kids. I remember <a href="http://amysorensen.typepad.com/the_english_geek/">Amy</a> saying one time on her blog that she can do babies. And I agree. Bottles, diapers, even teething, are pretty straight forward. Trying to comfort a screaming baby can be frustrating, but a lot of things can be fixed with snuggles and hugs and kisses. I thrive on that physical closeness. But snuggling doesn't fix the problems between parents and older kids. The last two weeks have brought pretty big confrontations with my two oldest, and I don't feel like I know how to handle it. In the end, I stood my ground and tried to be reasonable but firm, and things calmed back down. But I was a wreck emotionally. Will I ever learn to deal with the turmoil of older kids without letting it ruin me inside? I sure hope so.</li><li>I am blessed to have three sisters, and I adore each of them. I got to spend time, as much as we could fit in, with my sister Stephanie this summer while she was here for her husband's summer internship. They've been living in Florida for a year now, and the distance seems impossible. I was so excited to have her back, and we made some wonderful memories while she was here. And right as Steph was leaving, my youngest sister Cassie drove here from Iowa. She saved my life by staying with me for five days while my hubby was out of town. We had a blast, and she helped me start some projects I may never have started without her. She's a sweetheart! And then there's my sister Julie, who recently helped me to organize 2 cupboards in the kitchen that were disastrous, and my sewing stuff in the basement. I'd show you before and after pictures, but you would die if you saw the mess I've been living with!</li><li>Little Caesar's is way cooler than I ever thought. The cashier today gave us little bags of cookies, which I didn't even know they had, for each of my 5 kids, and then took the time to blow up balloons for them. The little ones were tickled, and my oldest and his friend shared the helium in one of them to make funny voices on the way home. I'm probably a bad mom for letting my kids inhale helium, but I purposely didn't ask for 6 balloons because I knew that's what they'd do with theirs. I figured half a balloon each wouldn't hurt my conscience as much as a full one. I know - I'm weird.</li><li>I'm starting to realize that life would be easier if I would just slow down. I could keep things cleaner if I'd slow down and finish each task before moving on to the next. And I wouldn't feel so frazzled all the time. But it's really hard with 5 kids, each of them pulling me in a different direction at any given moment. And I always have a million things I want to get done. I think with the return to school and routine, I'll make slowing down my focus for a while and see if I can make it stick. Wish me luck.
<br /></li></ul>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-68858838524683208062011-06-05T23:52:00.002-06:002011-06-06T00:20:12.567-06:00Sunday is.....<ul><li>a day of rest. Or is it?</li><li>a constant attempt to keep peace. I start with music to set the tone, and with a lot of patience. Eventually the music gives way to unauthorized cartoons and video games, and the shouting of fighting children, and my patience wanes.<br /></li><li>constant <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">strategizing</span>. Whom to dress first? How soon before leaving? My babies can destroy themselves, the house, and the rest of the kids in a matter of minutes if I turn my head.</li><li>a huge mess. Try as I might, I can't keep order on Sunday mornings. The kids wreak havoc on our kitchen while they eat breakfast......about 10 times between 6 am and 11. I swear I try to stuff them with their first breakfast, but they think they'll starve to death if they don't repeat the process 5 times before church! And believe me, I don't want hungry kids on my hands for the first 70-minute meeting at church.<br /></li><li>nagging, nagging, nagging. "Get dressed!" "Why don't you have your shoes on?" "Did you get your stuff ready to go?" "GET IN THE CAR!!!"</li><li>one giant wrestling match. From the baths, which are inevitable for at least the little ones, even if they've had baths Saturday night, to the fighting on of dress shirts, vests, ties, etc, to the buckling of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">carseats</span>, to the time on the bench for that first 70 minutes. If I'm not trying to hold one squirmy little one and keep him quiet, I'm holding onto 2 and reaching for a 3rd, who might be as old as 5 or 7 and should know better than to create the disturbance he/she is creating!</li><li>physically exhausting due to the previously mentioned wrestling match.</li><li>emotionally exhausting. Far too much frustration, disciplining, begging and pleading, questioning looks from those around us, imagined criticism from the onlookers, and beating up of myself for the loss of patience, raised voice, and complete inability to handle it all.</li></ul>I take 5 kids to church by myself. Every other week, we add a sixth when we bring my stepson's 10-year-old brother. I choose to do this, so I don't feel like I have a right to complain. Then there are days like today, when I invite another mom to bring her kids to church by herself. She's been wanting to get back to church for months now, and just needs a little help coaxing the kids. (Why do I think I can help? I can't even get my own family there in one piece!) Unfortunately, it's a 6-kid day, my baby has been up all night sick and crying, my 2-year-old is up to his usual tricks, and my husband is out of town. And to top it all off, both babies fall asleep on the way to church. Of course church time coincides with nap time, and waking a super tired baby at nap time results in screaming and a very grumpy child. So can I possibly wake 2 babies and drag them into church by myself? No!<br /><br />I sent the big kids in without me, meaning that I kind of abandoned the friend I was supposed to be sitting with, although it worked out in the end. But I melted down completely and had to reenter the building later with swollen, tear-stained eyes and groggy babies. I thought it might finally clue someone into the fact that I'm in over my head, but no such luck. Next week I'm in charge of sharing time. Pray for me......Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-36654603155070692872011-05-09T16:13:00.007-06:002011-05-09T17:44:06.979-06:00A listThere's a lot I'd like to blog about right now, but if I'm going to get it out there, it'll have to be abbreviated. So here's a list of the things on my mind, in no particular order:<br /><br /><ul><br /><li>I started a diet, specifically, the South Beach diet. Have you tried it? I'm not a diet person. I've tried counting calories a few times (with no real success as far as weight loss goes). And remember Body for Life? I did that for a long time back when it was popular. Now days, I prefer to exercise and eat reasonably and leave the scale out of it. Unfortunately, that took a bad turn lately and my poor eating habits, total lack of exercise, and a certain medication led to a weight gain that I can't live with. Rather than continue down the path to obesity, which is a real possibility, I decided I'd better turn things around. I've completed a full week of phase 1 of the diet, which pretty much eliminates all sugar, including fruit, and limits <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">carbs</span> to vegetables. So I'm on a protein & veggie diet. A week ago I would not have believed that I could go 7 days without sugar of any kind, but I did it people! <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yay</span> for me! And I feel so good! I'm trying to change the way I think about food so that I can make this a lifestyle change, rather than a quick weight loss scheme that ends in gaining it all back. (This does not mean I'll be giving up sugar for life. Let's not go crazy here!)</li><br /><br /><li>So you know that weight gain I mentioned? I hate to even admit this, but I can't fit into any of my shorts or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">capris</span> from last year, and I've been really upset about it. Today I decided to get over it and get myself some clothes that fit. One trip to my favorite store, Ann Taylor Loft, and a couple bucks later, and I now have a few pairs of shorts and some cute <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">capris</span> that actually go over my hips and don't cut off my circulation. I feel better about myself already, and I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't have to go up sizes and sizes to find things that fit. And I got some really good deals! The shorts & <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">capris</span> were only $25, and I had a coupon that dropped them to $21. Awesome!</li><br /><br /><li>I've been reading lately. It feels amazing! I have had to let things go even more than usual, but I love the escape into a good book. It's been worth it, too. I'm almost done with <em>The <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Poisonwood</span> Bible</em>, a favorite of my good friend <a href="http://becky-kump.blogspot.com/">Becky</a> that I've been wanting to read for years. I highly recommend it if you haven't read it already!</li><br /><br /><li>I haven't sewn in ages, partially because of the reading. I feel guilty doing anything that doesn't work toward a cleaner home or happy family members (excluding myself, of course), so reading has trumped sewing. Until Friday, when I stumbled upon a new blog. I found some really cute tutorials on <a href="http://www.made-by-rae.com/">Made by Rae</a>. This is the Buttercup Bag: <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604862624078831442" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi-53-ezlmC9cJjyDpUC1fbebJwAItvsFNUCubvElf1OfU0svIJrxTzH2y3bvh-rYwApWCOPDRvk3fRsJCH2zffXslL2Iql-csNe2iOLcfPVT4ib8cMWNs8w98X9j5VOXcGedi0cWo8nhw/s400/P1010786.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 301px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604862471950568594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvoUEWuXXV87q3-hdOee45GSCmeAGN8CH7YaUT4j_mUfbpBAzs98kViK1hmEiZuer0wfhiKAnLVUjUwYzSoIijB8R_YmCKI-RsxX4BLu76QMTtNW4mBGRfvOkLQ-AFp4c_gAWRQ_6iVWl6/s400/P1010787.JPG" />The tutorial is free and it sews up really fast! I'm going to take it apart and add some fusible fleece to make it a little sturdier, but it was a fun project that got my creative juices flowing and made me smile. If you're interested, I'm considering buying the license to sell this and another of her bags, so I'd love to make you one. :)</li></ul><br /><p></p><br /><ul><br /><li>I was feeling crafty after sewing my new purse, and I realized that I was in charge of sharing time Sunday, aka Mother's Day. So I decided to have the kids make tissue paper flowers for their moms. Little did I know the men were planning on taking over primary for the third hour of church. (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Soooo</span> glad they did! But maybe they should have told us?) I had to rush through the flowers with the little kids, and the older kids who wanted them stayed after for a minute to make them. I'd planned for 3 flowers per child, so if you want to make tissue paper flowers, come on over! I've got a lot of extra tissue paper squares, all cut and ready to go...<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604861992668957266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfn-jPcE1h1WsEdFmudxE4x9Yu-8ZbYwXHOihm_fLcvXqNjJUoyVKup3qNKAM4pG8yZ_sJpjJ1QGBmCND4ieLDDU85xqvMkUmTkM81v4ngTUBsjieK0lQUtFwSI18m0stuKzFRjhz_W4Jo/s400/P1010789.JPG" /></li><br /><br /><li>My Mother's Day was good. I slept for a few extra minutes while my hubby made breakfast: waffles for the kids and eggs and bacon for the dieting wife. I got flowers. (<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yay</span>! I love flowers!) And we went to dinner at Outback Steakhouse, because I <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">looooove</span> steak, and I can eat it on my diet. Plus, I didn't have to cook or clean up. Perfect! Also, since I actually got to go to Relief Society with the other women at church, I was privileged to hear some inspirational thoughts about mothers. My favorites came from a neighbor of mine who is always kind and supportive. She told all of us moms with young kids that she remembers how hard it was to be in our shoes and that she knows how hard we work and how hard we try to be good moms. It meant a lot to me. I often feel, especially at church, like women who've already raised their kids are watching me and wondering why I don't have it more together. Her words were exactly what I needed.</li><br /><br /><li>Mother's Day is also a sad day in our home. It's a strong reminder of Tanner's loss, now almost 3 years ago. I held him and tried to comfort him for the first hour of church. He finally decided to go home, and I stayed with my tear-stained face. My heart broke for him. I can only imagine how sad I would have been yesterday if my mom weren't around anymore, and I'm 35. He's only 14, and it's just not fair. That's about all I can say about that. Tanner did wish me a happy Mother's Day later, and that made me feel really good.</li><br /><br /><li>My favorite gift yesterday was one that Katie made at school. Here it is: <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604862786309606386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8FNkvx7BEQB8LeW1-veH8pCsOxatOJAExqo_xg3EzjbQZEk2Yi1RW-5eR-lHTM3U9IWTs7gVG5i8TkFeEcbNbeOsi_-vl8slv3R1kDUiSnGl-EqFqLeCq_pREcVRhij6qqT76jaSA9h9/s400/mother%2527s+day+riddle.jpg" />I love that I'm 7 feet tall and weigh only 80 pounds. But my favorite part is that I don't like to clean. She wrote that because every time I ask the kids for help around the house, they tell me they don't like to clean and get an earful from me about how much I enjoy it. But it was quite comical reading that I don't like to clean, sitting in my disaster of a house. I let things go a lot this weekend, and it was just perfect timing. I'm excited to find this when I'm 65 and remember what things were like now.</li></ul><br /><p>I hope everyone had a wonderful Mother's Day! Thanks for dropping by!</p>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-204944231596061132011-04-18T14:20:00.008-06:002011-04-18T15:11:06.958-06:00Washing the clothes is fun to do......fun to do, to do, to do. Drying the clothes is fun to do, to do, to do, to do. At least now that I've added these babies to my appliance collection! Meet my new washer: <br /><div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNmqpOj-JzmqqYaNUboPx2S7oXM8FkHNHPZpybxgW3WQMfK9FZYMMqFPgRGvyD0oAufhhUN9KmUHJ2q4CumEMYfqZUaDYFMJlQWUyqQLBsNDowRde3T_Fb24hzxyWC8NPdQDSRUR9n7jK/s1600/washer.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 271px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597026505825812690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNmqpOj-JzmqqYaNUboPx2S7oXM8FkHNHPZpybxgW3WQMfK9FZYMMqFPgRGvyD0oAufhhUN9KmUHJ2q4CumEMYfqZUaDYFMJlQWUyqQLBsNDowRde3T_Fb24hzxyWC8NPdQDSRUR9n7jK/s400/washer.jpg" /></a> and my new dryer:<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 271px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597026608798062418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI0NXftpFyq9AumZNcagtOU73mzavErZ7FaKoZmhlEsOoC-e0V6zZ27I2Tt1q6RBv1ud6sJig7UnxouBSmekNQ3rv2VGfuRLst20vNfBzSKDQxs7L9otdq1Mf8ABAugpdnUvs1EpESEW8X/s400/dryer.jpg" />We've had the same washer and dryer since we got married, when my mother-in-law was sweet enough to buy us a brand new pair. For years now, John's been suggesting that we get new machines, and I've turned him down because ours have had zero problems. Zero! (I found out how amazing this is when we started researching online and reading horror stories of breakdowns and repair bills.) Then my mom and sister <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">surprised</span> me with a laundry room makeover for my birthday. They commented that my washer is one of the smallest they've seen, and no wonder I'm always behind on laundry! So we began our search for new machines. John read every review of every washer and dryer in the U.S. and combed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">KSL</span> and Craig's List nightly for a few weeks. Finally we headed to Home Depot to look for ourselves. We decided what we like, and what capacity and features we needed. We were lucky enough to find both machines on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">KSL</span> from two different stores. The washer is used, but I can't even tell, and the dryer is brand new. And the good news is that we spent the same amount for both that we would have for just one at the store. Hurray!</div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">I've never minded laundry. In fact, once Katelyn was born, I thought it was fun to fold her cute little clothes into little pink piles. Now my piles are mostly black and blue, but I still don't mind the washing and folding. (Especially since folding laundry is a great excuse to sit down for a second and watch Dancing With the Stars!) What I can't stand is putting it all away. Seriously, I've got piles for seven people, plus all the associated towels, sheets, blankets, etc. It drives me crazy!</div><br /><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left">But before I get to that awful putting-away step of the process, I now get to load up the washer with 3 times what I could fit into the old one, put the detergent in the cool little drawer on the front, watch it figure the load size and marvel at how much laundry constitutes only 3 of 4 bars, try to guess exactly how many minutes the machine will tell me the cycle will take, and then listen to the cute little song the washer chimes at me when it's done. Then I get to load the dryer up and decide which of my settings to use and wait for its cute little song. Fun fun! </div><br /><div align="left">Oh, there's the chime now..........time to switch loads!</div><br /><div align="left"><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div></div></div></div></div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-15568819974177733942011-04-08T12:52:00.002-06:002011-04-08T14:30:19.795-06:00Sometimes I feel like a sad song.....(Do you know that song by John Denver? LOVE that song!) As usual, I've been dying to post on my blog, but I'm torn. I don't want to be that person you know who always complains about some ailment and never seems to be doing well. So I've settled for being the person who smiles and says she's doing well and doesn't offer any details. Which is better? I think most of the time the latter is best - usually when people ask how you're doing, there's not time to go into detail, and no one wants to hear a negative response. (I can just hear Eeyore's glum voice in my head.) However, yesterday I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine. She recently suffered a miscarriage, and we were sharing our stories. She said that a lot of people "suffer in silence." I wanted to scream out something, anything. I have felt like that for so long now! I know I've mentioned it here more than once, but I just don't dare talk too much. And when I'm with my close friends, I don't want to talk about it because I feel uplifted by their presence. What's the point in dragging myself back down and taking them with me? The only people I really discuss my depression with are those who have suffered or are suffering themselves and can understand. I do talk to my husband about it, but I think it gets old for both of us. What husband wants to come home every day to hear the same old story of his wife's depression and how black everything is? Besides, when he's home I tend to feel better. I get a reprieve from handling the kids by myself and I don't feel so lonely. Plus, he does his best to make me laugh constantly, and he's good at it! So where am I going with all of this? Today I'm talking about it - my depression. Yes, I'm still seeing a counselor and taking <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">meds</span> and trying to change my thought patterns. And there are days, even a week at a time, when I feel much better. Unfortunately I've been in a real slump this past week, and feeling almost worse than before. (I'm sure going back to the 69-degree weather and sunshine would help!) So instead of suffering in silence, I'm sharing my feelings. One of my favorite songs is <em>Ghost</em> by Indigo Girls. I've turned to this song over and over since I first heard it during my freshman year at the Y. It has meant different things to me at different times. Here are a few of my favorite lines: <br /><div align="center"><em>There's a letter on the desktop</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>that I dug out of a drawer -</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>the last truce we ever came to</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>in our adolescent war.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>And I start to feel a fever</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>from the warm air through the screen.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>You come regular like seasons,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>shadowing my dreams.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>Well the Mississippi's mighty,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>and it starts in Minnesota,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>at a place that you can walk across</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>with five steps down.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>And I guess that's how you started,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>like a pinprick to my heart,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>but at this point you rush right through me</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>and I start to drown.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>And there's not enough room</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>in this world for my pain.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>Signals cross, and love gets lost,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>and time passed makes it plain.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>................</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>And I feel it like a sickness,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>how this love is killing me.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>But I'd walk into the fingers</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>of your fire willingly,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>and dance the edge of sanity,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>I've never been this close.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>Unknowing captor, you'll never know how much you</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>pierce my spirit, but I can't touch you.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>Can you hear it - a cry to be free?</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>I'm forever under lock and key,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>as you pass through me.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>......................</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>...as I burn up in your presence</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>and I know now how it feels</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>to be weakened like Achilles,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>with you always at my heels.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>And my bitter pill to swallow</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>is the silence that I keep.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>It poisons me, I can't swim free,</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>the river is too deep.</em></div><br /><div align="center"><em></em></div><br /><div align="center"><em>You are shadowing my dreams.</em></div>OK, I feel like I've massacred the song, just including the pertinent lyrics. But I wanted to share with you one of my favorite songs, at the same time giving you a really good idea of what's going on in my head. Seriously, these words are just perfect for how I feel! (I'd include a link so you can listen to it, but I don't know how.) I totally understand the power of music. I've thought more than once that maybe instead of finishing my piano performance degree I should get a degree in music therapy, or some such thing. Music can be so powerful in affecting our moods and making us feel better, or worse. this song is at the top of my cry-my-heart-out-to-it songs. (You know what I'm talking about.) But I can only listen to it when I'm having a good cry, or when I feel great and want to do some top-of-my-lungs car singing. If I'm feeling even a little down, it'll bring me down further. That's when I go to my happy songs. I'll share one of those with you next time.......Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-92108652008570800442011-03-03T14:24:00.003-07:002011-03-03T15:17:08.864-07:00Body Image DissonanceI have always loved <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">TLC's</span> <em>What Not to Wear</em>. I love to shop, so of course there's the part where you get to watch someone shop in cool stores in Manhattan. Then there's the hair and makeup segment, which is definitely my favorite. I really do follow <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Carmindy's</span> makeup tips when they're doable. And boy do I wish that Nick <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Arrojo</span> or Ted Gibson would give me a super cute haircut that suits my face and personal style perfectly. Oh, the fun of living vicariously through people on TV! And I swear to you that Stacy and Clinton really care about helping people to feel comfortable and happy in their bodies. If only I could accidentally run into them shopping. I'd ask them for a few tips and they'd tell me what a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">rockin</span>' bod I have and show me some hints to make it look even better. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Ahhhhh</span>.....<br /><br />Last night the show introduced me to a mommy blog I didn't know exists, <a href="http://parentingbydummies.com/">parenting BY dummies</a>.<strong> </strong>I checked it out and read the last couple of entries. Amanda's writing comes across exactly as mine sounds in my head - sarcastic and self-denigrating, but humorous at the same time. That and the fact that she's super cute and always smiling, and writes about being a mom and has three little boys, will make me a regular reader I think. One of the things Amanda seems to talk about frequently on her blog is the issue of body image. This prompted me to think about my own body image, and I think I made a discovery. I have two very separate, and very opposite, trains of thought when it comes to how I feel about my body.<br /><br />On one hand, after 35 years of being me, I finally feel at peace with what I look like. I can even tell myself that I like what I see in the mirror, that I'm beautiful (on a good day). I'm OK with the wrinkles that are beginning to deepen. I no longer think I need a nose job, despite the 2 times my nose has been broken by one of my children. I don't ever want a face lift. I've accepted the fact that going gray early is a family trait, and I can deal with it. (Thank goodness my sister is a hairdresser!) I am no longer plagued with "bad hair days" like I was in high school and college. My hair is what it is, whether it's perfectly straight and shiny, cute and curly, or pulled back in a greasy messy pony tail because I don't have time to worry about it and who the heck cares! I can run to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Walmart</span> with no makeup on and not care who sees me or what anyone thinks. (Although I have wondered if I should check <a href="http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">peopleofwalmart</span>.com</a> for pictures of myself. Nah, I probably don't want to know...) Or I can get all dolled up, put on a pair of skinny jeans and my cutest boots, and go out with my husband, all the time strutting my stuff and knowing that, while I'm not a skinny little 20-something <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">hotty</span>, I've got it going on! See, I'm pretty comfortable in my skin. And I think by the time we reach our mid-thirties, we deserve to be.<br /><br />But on the other hand, I've got serious issues with my weight. I am at the heaviest I've been if you don't count pregnancies. I feel things jiggle when I move that have never jiggled before. I want to vomit every time I feel my thighs rubbing when I walk. (Seriously, I remember losing weight after baby #2 and getting to the point where my thighs didn't touch anymore. Oh, the bliss! [And probably way too much info. Sorry! And sorry for the parentheses within parentheses.]) I cringe when I hear the term "muffin top" - it just hits too close to home. I see liposuction commercials and I start thinking up ways to come up with the money. And yes, I realize that diet and exercise really are the best ways to deal with these issues. But right now, I feel like I'm barely keeping my head above water. I will get back to working out. And I will learn a better way to deal with my emotions than to eat them away. Really, I will. And I don't mean any of this in a "poor me, I'm so fat" kind of way. I've simply gained weight and I don't like how it feels.<br /><br />So you see the dissonance now. I feel like I'm finally comfortable with my looks, and yet I'm completely uncomfortable in my body. Interesting.<br /><br />Now back to the show. Watching Stacy and Clinton with Amanda last night reminded me of something that I know all too well. I feel better about myself when I take care of myself. My mood is better when I have on a cute outfit, or at least matching clothes that aren't sweats or <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">jammies</span>. And doing something, anything, to my hair and putting on a little makeup does wonders for my self esteem. It's funny. Really, I don't think about it or care when I'm interacting with people at stores (like <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Walmart</span>, where I may or may not be being photographed), but when I look decent, I feel better no matter where I am, whether anyone else can see me or not. So today I washed my hair, diffused it so it's got some bounce and curl to it, put on a touch of makeup, and I'm wearing jeans and a real top - not the cutest, trendiest clothes I own, but clean (that's important!) and reasonably cute to me. And I feel better than I have all week. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Yay</span> me! And thank you, <em>What Not to Wear</em>, for wanting me and everyone else out there to feel good about ourselves!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">See, my TV addiction isn't all bad.........</span>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-81803287014311495042011-02-28T21:43:00.002-07:002011-02-28T21:51:41.709-07:00MondaysDo you know how much surface area a gallon of milk covers? Well trust me when I tell you that you don't want to know. I thought I was getting ahead by running to the grocery store right before dinner time, especially since I only had one kiddo with me. The shopping went well -- five-year-olds can be really helpful when they're with mom one on one. And I was getting everything I need for this week's menu. Yay! Except five-year-olds are also prone to clumsiness. Hence, the gallon of milk that slipped out of Carter's hands and immediately burst open when it hit the ground. Let's just say that the spill extended past the gum and candy bars to the beginning of the checkstand, and was starting to drown me where I stood, next to the counter, trying to quickly unload the cart so we could get it out of the way. The clerks were sweet and helpful, and even got me a new milk to replace the one covering the floor. I was oh so apologetic and felt bad about all the trouble. And really, that's all I needed to cap off my Monday.<br /><br />Here's to hoping tomorrow goes better........Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-7255434134877298432011-02-02T16:11:00.004-07:002011-02-02T19:17:18.704-07:00Hello....again. Hello.<div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left">(Can<a href="file://n/"></a> you hear Neil Diamond singing that phrase? And the whole rest of the song? Keep it playing in your mind....)</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Three years ago I wrote <a href="http://bellmel.blogspot.com/2008/01/clawing-my-way-back-up.html">this</a> post about clawing my way back up after a particularly difficult winter. I'm feeling much now like I did then - like I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Like maybe I can start to handle my life again. Except this time I've been hiding away, buried in the depths, for a year or maybe 13 months. I had Zach a little over 13 months ago, and I could tell within a few weeks of having him that I was not coming out of the normal baby blues and hormonal chaos of having a baby in a reasonable amount of time.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">Things changed drastically when Zach was born. There's the whole going from 4 kids to 5 thing, and having two boys only 16 months apart. I went from very little sleep (the 16-month-old has never really slept through the night) to almost no sleep at all. And I became somewhat of a hermit. I quit doing my preschool music group, which was a good decision because I could not have handled it! And I stopped going to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">story time</span> at the library, or the library at all for that matter. I did take <a href="http://bellmel.blogspot.com/2010/02/terrible-twos-already.html">one trip </a>with the kids to the library shortly after Zach was born. I had the baby in the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Moby</span> wrap, and Aidan decided to flip out. It was a terrible experience, and I haven't entered a library with my children since. Before Zach, I felt like I ran from one place to the next constantly. We always had something to do and somewhere to be. After Zach, everything seemed too difficult. I planned to start going to my friends' preschool music classes and enjoy someone else doing all of the planning and organizing while I simply attended to my kids. Yet I haven't made it to a single one. Turns out there's no "simply attending to" energetic boys ages 1, 2, and 5. I've stopped almost completely doing the things that I enjoy. I rarely, if ever, play the piano. I don't sew nearly as often as I'd like. I don't read at all. And obviously, I haven't been blogging. </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">There have been times I've just wanted to scream out loud, "Please help me! I can't handle this!" But most of the time I prefer to remain silent, to smile and say I'm well when people ask me at church. I know I've mentioned a couple times on my blog that I'm struggling, but it really seems whiny. After all, what can anyone else do for me anyway? I don't even know what to do for myself!</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">I've tried a couple of medications and I think I've finally found one that's working for me. I also added counseling a few months ago, which is probably the most helpful thing. And I finally feel like I'm turning a corner. Things that seemed nearly impossible to me a few months ago (like keeping my kitchen clean for longer than 5 minutes) seem much more do-able now. I even read an entire book in January, and I'm working on finishing another.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">So I'm slowly working my way back into life. I started a baby blanket today - one of my favorite activities! And here I am.......blogging! Wow, I've missed this. Of course, don't expect too much too soon. I still have catastrophes like this to deal with every ten minutes or so, so I'll be kind of busy for a while:</div><div align="center"><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 298px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 397px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569279785756519714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNj3lnZ4kS_GSZJSpS98H6P6YVgEve_ObV2NgXkY97O-JUnB_OYCq_dcMOblnzdnOGdlcQa7DUcV0L2JNKHcOyDtt0FPbmTWxXOPdiFZmNd4qRO3APjT9xX-steGFybQGgrNUkMeE7ZxmS/s400/P1010659.JPG" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;">Zach is quite proud of himself for climbing into the toilet. </span><span style="font-size:78%;">I'm hoping taking pictures and laughing my head off </span><span style="font-size:78%;">won't reinforce the behavior!<br /></span></p>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6041589070638487463.post-89169852366226805642010-12-07T22:08:00.002-07:002010-12-07T22:25:39.286-07:00MFT #4: FlyLady<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqDGs4Z3SaV1pbzO-QGLLJCc8vYafGnLOAvPQIdvYQv1qGU7KD-6Ai2rLiCZhyphenhyphenHD0lhp_5YMX_zUGHQ4Qm22MCsCRbfwpJrDFp9TGITzW28iPy3C3uTmFpGbLqySGkbneuYQOKMmqIt7n/s1600/flylady_toon.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 179px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 332px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548178087629669938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqDGs4Z3SaV1pbzO-QGLLJCc8vYafGnLOAvPQIdvYQv1qGU7KD-6Ai2rLiCZhyphenhyphenHD0lhp_5YMX_zUGHQ4Qm22MCsCRbfwpJrDFp9TGITzW28iPy3C3uTmFpGbLqySGkbneuYQOKMmqIt7n/s400/flylady_toon.jpg" /></a><br /><div>There's nothing better than a clean house. Don't you agree? I love to walk into my bedroom and see my bed made and everything in its place. And it's soooo nice to walk into the kitchen and see a clean floor, gleaming counters, and a bright shiny sink.</div><div></div><br /><div>I decorated my house for Christmas yesterday - we even got a tree and decorated it for family night! - and I used it as an excuse to do a deep cleaning in the living room. I vacuumed under and behind furniture, scrubbed our microfiber (thank goodness for microfiber!) couch and recliner, and polished the piano and end tables. I cleaned all of the glass and every nook and cranny. Man, it feels so good!</div><div></div><br /><div>I try to keep up on this stuff, but I've felt very overwhelmed since having Zach almost a year ago. With a baby who's been walking for a few months now and getting into EVERYTHING, and a 2-year-old who also gets into everything but has learned more tricks and can cause enormous disasters in mere moments, I've got a lot going on. I'm really struggling to keep up. Enter <a href="http://www.flylady.net/">FlyLady</a>.</div><br /><div>Some of her tips are pretty elementary, but I like the routine she suggests and it really helps when you're feeling like you're in over your head like I am right now. To make it more fun, my sister Cassie is doing it with me. We're doing the <a href="http://flylady.net/pages/begin_babysteps.asp">beginner baby steps</a> together and we talk and text to keep each other updated. It helps to have a partner to report to.</div><div></div><br /><div>So I assume that most of you have your act together enough that you have no need for such things. But I have to admit, because I like to keep it real, that I don't. But I want to. I reeeeaaaallly want to. So I'm working on it. And things are getting better.</div><div></div><br /><div>Just in case, though, give me a call before you drop by. :)</div><div> </div>Melaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15897132630447608952noreply@blogger.com3