Frustrated

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

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

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

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

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

One for the books

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adventures in Parenting

The Good:

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

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

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

Striking a pose

Katie and mom on their first walk to school

The Bad:

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

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


The Ugly:

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

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

Frea.king.out.

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

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

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

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

And now, about the cake

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

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

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

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

So without further ado......



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

To Aidan, on your first birthday

Dear Aidan,

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love, Mom

Keepin' It Real

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

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

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

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