Over the river and through the woods

The results from Chris's finals are all in--he rocked all of them amazingly! He will now be able to move on to Tri Seven. For those of you not familiar, Parker Chiropractic is a three year program broken up into 9 trimesters (3 months on, two weeks or so off). It's a grueling process and this last trimester was the toughest so far. He had Board tests over his last mini-break, then there were the fabulous clinic entrance exams in the midst of all the regular school stuff he had to keep up with. Whew!!! He actually gets about a month break for Christmas. I have high hopes for a wonderful break!

Well, we made it! In true pioneer fashion, we loaded up the wagon, and headed out over the river and through the woods for grand adventures. We are now in the Sooner state. It's a good thing Santa is magic--how else could he load all the loot in his tiny sleigh? We were overwrought with presents in our little van! I still don't know how we packed it all in, or how we're going to get even more presents home. More importantly, I'm still amazed at the multitude of blessings we have that we can't fit them in!

It took a lot of work to get here, I tell ya! Friday was a day of DRAMA! Among other dramas that set us back a couple hours, the boys both broke out in hives for some mysterious reason. We think it's some new crackers I purchased and they've been wolfing down like little piggies. We were really nervous about Aiden, especially when it hit his face, but by Saturday morning they were mostly gone. On top of that, I came down with some kind of flu-like bug and the system hasn't been able to reboot itself yet. What a crappy couple months of getting sick eh Amy and Leisha?

It's been wonderful being here, despite not feeling well. How fabulous to have, not one, but three other adults to help me entertain/corral/ and supervise the mini-monkeys! Christmas is upon us and along with the rest of the troop, I'm feeling the excitement!

Here's wishing you all a Merry Christmas!!!

The big 10

Ten years ago, I met a hottie. A hottie named Chris.
(Sorry, my pictures are a result of taking a picture of an old picture--so they're poor quality, but you get the idea. Man I need a scanner! :)
It didn't take me long to realize what a rare find and a treasure he was and to snatch him up for myself (much to the chagrin of his current girlfriend). He could make me laugh like no one else. We had such fun together. I had found my best friend.
Things clicked from the first time we spent the whole night talking up on Squaw Peak. Our fate was sealed from that day on, and we've never spent a whole day apart since. We were baby-faced, wide-eyed, and immediately in love. We had a whirlwind romance, a quick (but oh so right) engagement.
On a brisk but clear winter day, December 20th, 1997 we were married in the Mt. Timpanogos temple.

Today as I look back, I keep hearing a Kenny Chesney song on the radio that is so fitting. In it he says:

Don't blink
Just like that you're six years old and you take a nap
and you wake up and you're twenty-five
and your high school sweetheart becomes your wife.
Don't blink.
You just might miss your babies growing like mine did.
Turning into moms and dads.
Next thing you know, your "better half" of fifty years is there in bed
And you're praying God takes you instead.
Trust me friend, a hundred years goes faster than you think!
So don't blink!

How true. 10 years! Where did the time go? I do feel like I blinked and here we are. We were so young, niave to the trials we would face, full of hopes and dreams for our future together. There have been so many things I couldn't have anticipated. Ten years later, we're still holding strong and in the process of making those dreams come true. We have 4 beautiful children that fill our lives with love, laughter, and sometimes sweet tears. We've faced so much together and hopefully are stronger for it.

To my Sweetheart, thank you for 10 beautiful years! I wouldn't trade all the ups and downs, laughter and tears, sorrows and smiles for anything! Here's to another 10 wonderful years!

Alicia Should . . .

I'm stuck guys! I have nothing new to post right now and no will-power to be creative. Life is just so crazy lately! (like it ever isn't right?) "Jane, get me off this crazy thing!"

I'm so sick of seeing my same old posts, so I'm delving into the ol' "drafts" section. Here goes.

Ok, I saw this on Renee's website and thought it was so cute. I typed "Alicia Should" into Google to see what the universe threw back at me. These are a few of the funny ones that came up. (the words in green are my reply)

• by default alicia should be your number one friend (darn tootin!)

• What do U mean Alicia should be so grateful that they created makeup? (Oh, she is! She is!!!)
  

• Alicia should completely snub her (I'm not much of a snubber, but if she's a real pain in the patootie, I might consider)

• Turns out, her parents had already made the decision that Alicia should move back with them. (Couldn't get enough of my trouble-makin' the first time eh?)

• Alicia should do some more duets (are you nuts! Maybe if someone wants to sound freakin' awesome by comparison to my howler-monkey voice, for enough compensation I'd be willing to hire out.)

• ALICIA SHOULD JUST GROW UP (I don't like it and I won't do it. Tacky, tacky, tacky!) : P

• Alicia should be held accountable and prosecuted (Oh no, not again!!!)

• The Alicia should be accompanied with an 81 coil boxspring for optimal support (I have no idea what this means, but it sounds comfy to me. I all about gettin' some optimal support!)

• If Alicia should happen to still be alive and perhaps even read this review - thank you so much for writing your story. (I'm still kickin'! I haven't written it yet, but you're so welcome anyways!)

• Therefore Alicia should also have been charged with automobile theft. (Anybody need a car? Cheap? Right now?!)

• The agent suggests Alicia should marry the spy and gain free access into his house (Already have! You wouldn't believe some of the dirt I've been diggin' up too! It's all in the report!)

• Alicia should be able to come up with her own date of birth. (Cool, can I be 23 again?)

• I believe that Alicia should be allowed to participate (in graduation), enjoying one of the rites of passage to adulthood as others her age do (Adulthood! No way! If it means I have to be an adult, I'm not doin' it!)

• Alicia should be ashamed of herself. (Oh I am! I am!)

• Bonnie and Alicia should hang someday. (Bonnie, I miss you girl! Let's do it!!!)
  

• Why would the Democrats not endorse Alicia? Perhaps Alicia should consider becoming a Republic (Maybe because I 'm an auto theft, never graduated, live with a spy, and I'm really not THAT ashamed of myself. :)

• I know somebody didn’t say that Alicia should be more humble. (Humble? What's that?)

• Alicia should be a shrew, and shrill-tongued (that's one thing I already do have down!)
  

• Alicia should be allowed to use her passion for horses (you bet your sweet bippy!!! Anybody have a spare horse? Maybe I'll have to shift gears from stealing mechanical Mustangs, to stealing the real deal eh?)

• Alicia should have avoided getting “caught up” in Michael’s deadline (Darn you Michael! You messed everything up!!!)

• Alicia should be tired or nicely warmed up. (oh, I'm tired! Definitely tired!)

• The group unanimously felt that Alicia should proceed with the plan for Bus service to VMRCVM as described in her letter. (Wow, unanimous huh? I've been a busy little beaver haven't I? Anybody have a clue what they're talking about?)

• NO ONE, especially Alicia, should ever consider singing a song that Patti LaBelle sang (Somehow I don't think Patti is quaking in her boots)

• Alicia has lots of old bicycle parts. She wants to build something new with the parts. What is the first thing Alicia should do? (take a nap and avoid all work!)

• Alicia is terrific.. I should have had a daughter like that (oh, so true! If only!)

• Alicia should have gone instead. She was weak and had no personality at all. (Ouch! Guess I need to hit the gym and buy me a personality!)

• Alicia should learn a lot and have fun (what can I say but too true.)
  

• alicia should come visit me this winter. my sister will be here, so u can meet her (i promise all younger siblings do not bite). ... (Well, I don't mind a little bit of biting . . . Count me in! Hope the freezer is well stocked with Ice Cream! )

• Her friend convinces her that Alicia should smoke since she is depressed because smoking is comforting. (It's a lie I tell you! All lies!!)

And might I just add a few Shoulds to the to do list . . .

• Alicia should get off the computer and wash the dishes.
• Alicia should get off her duff and fold some laundry.
• Alicia should spend more time cuddling with her little monkeys.

Here are a few things the WWW says that Alicia Likes too.

• Alicia longs for the beach to be a place all to herself. (Heck, Alicia doesn't even shoot that high anymore, she just longs for the bathroom to be all to herself for two whole stinkin' minutes.)
  

• Alicia likes to throw sand at seagulls! (evil to the core aren't I?)
  

• Generally sunny and optimistic, Alicia has a cheering effect on those around her. Alicia likes and needs people, and others genuinely like her too. (Anybody have a few hundred bucks I can borrow to pay this person off for saying such nice things?)

• alicia likes to take pics of herself (this couldn't be further from the truth. The Alicia in the photos always looks different than the Alicia in the mirror. It messes with my head! Anybody else have this problem?)
  

• Alicia likes typical nerd things, aka, Star Trek of all kinds, role-playing games, video game soundtracks, computer RPGs, fantasy novels, and drawing (well, some of it's true anyways. I am a big nerd. I do like Star Trek (though Generations is probably my favorite). I love the game "How to Host a Murder". And I do dig fantasy novels, and drawing)
  

• Alicia likes heading out on a farm bike (whoever wrote this is sadly mistaken. It should read, "Alicia is a big chicken and doesn't like mechanical toys because she is also incredibly uncoordinated and accident-prone!")
  

• alicia likes a guy?!? (yeah and he's a hottie too. He drives a zippy little Scion around town and is obsessed with spines.)
  

• Alicia likes to mess with my head. (Waa Ha Ha Ha!!)
  

• Alicia likes hanging out with her friends. (and doesn't do it nearly enough!)
  

• Alicia likes to talk in third-person form cause she's weird and tired and ate so much candy this week that she is probably going to be hospitalized soon. (What more can I say? This just speaks for itself!)
  

I need a hug!

Last night was a very exciting one, spent in secret rendezvous with little people. Ok, just one little people. Kolbi became ill last night at 12:32 to be exact. I won't bore you or gross you out with the details, but suffice it to say, the big question on my mind is "Why did we have to eat something RED for dinner last night!?"

I am one TIRED monkey mama! I'm ready to collapse, and I desperately need a hug! I've been coveting my kiddos' cuddly/sweet buddies today and how they have the easy life of carrying around a lovey to ease the pains of the day. Where's my snuggly?

In the wee hours of the morning as I was scrubbing the carpet, my mind attempted to divert my attention from my unfortunate task and began to wax nostalgic. I have been meaning to post about this for a while, so in light of my need for a hug, I decided to post something sweet and uplifting, cuddly to my soul.

My Miss Zoe has been smitten!

She has recently (and randomly) latched onto a stuffed bunny that she calls Bu-Bu (if she's upset and can't find her lovey, it sounds more like "bwa bwa"). She carries it everywhere, kisses it soundly (with a "Mwaa" sound), and even feeds it before herself (that says true love in Wasson-speak).
She also seems to have developed a respect for all things buddy. If one of the other kids leaves their buddies around, Zoe will pick it up and go find it's owner. Kolbi was in the bathroom this morning, leaving her beloved puppy alone for a few minutes. I found Zoe lovingly carrying puppy around singing, "o-bee?!"

When Kolbi was about this age, she endlessly carried around her ratty baby (named "Baby" of all things) and a stuffed Paddington bear (named, can you guess? You got it, "Bear"). When we would put her to bed, part of the routine was the searching for the buddies. We would walk around the house, searching in the strangest places (closets, under the bed, behind the t.v., in the toilet, etc. (ok, not the loo, just seeing if you were still with me)), singing out, "Ba-bee? Where are you? Baby?" Bea-er?" Then we would find said precious buddy and we'd exclaim, "there it is!" Hugging it tightly, she was now secure to go to bed. This fun little tradition has carried on through all 4 of my kids while they were still wee ones. Bunny gets left in random places, but before long I hear Zoe calling out "Bu bu? W'are you? Th'y'is!" So fun!

Kolbi is home from school, vegging out on the sofa to the tune of daytime soaps (ok, PBS drama anyways). As a tribute to all things cute and cuddly, I thought I'd give a mini-lesson on these,

Bear in mind, this is purely for my nostalgic whims, if you nod off in class, I'll simply ignore the infraction (and quietly hand out detentions after class).





With that lesson over, I'm spent! Thank heavens my sweetie wore his ultra soft/ultra cuddly grey sweater today. I'm ready to snuggle up with my buddy and watch a little PBS. Class dismissed.

Ta Da!!!!!

Drumroll please! The results are in! Chris passed all of his Clinic Entrance Exams with flying colors! In the words of his sister Bronwyn, "Like he'd do anything but succeed; right?" Woot! Woot! Happy day!

Just thought you all would like to know. :)

The Christmas Spirit

This morning I was packing the sardines in the can, er van, and I heard a ridiculous amount of ruckus outside. I thought it was the rowdy neighbor kids again and didn't think much of it. But when I opened the garage door to pull out, it got louder and I saw a man standing outside my neighbor's (across the street) door. I rolled down the window out of curiosity, but then my ears started burning at the f-bomb he dropped while pounding murderously on the door with his fists.

I freaked a little and quickly pulled out, cranked up the christmas music to protect my children's innocent ears, and high-tailed it down the block (quickly closing the garage door lest he come my way??? I don't know, I was a little panicked). I got about a block away when my conscience kicked in. What if that guy does something to hurt those people in there? What if he's high or drunk? I checked to see that we had a minute to spare so Kolbi wouldn't be late, flipped around and casually drove back down my own street (telling the kids NOT to look at the bad man and to pay attention to the lovely songs) so I could get my neighbor's address. Then I drove back down the cul-de-sac with the aire of "I don't live here, I'm not paying any attention to the obscenely angry little man on the porch, I'm just lost and looking for an address. Hmm, hmm, hmm (I'd whistle casually if I could, but instead I hummed, see?)."

On our way out, the guy paused in his tirade and glanced over at us. Jonah started wigging in the back seat, "Mom, Aiden looked at the guy! He saw Aiden looking at him!" I calmly reassured him and drove on all casual-like. Around the corner and out of ear-shot though, I flipped open the phone and called the police (luckily I had a rare moment of fore-sight about a year back and programmed the # into my phone). I reported the guy, but was too shaken up and had tried too hard to be casual that I didn't have a very good description to give the coppers. "Um, he was caucasian, I think. He had on a sweater. Green I think. He had short hair and maybe jeans?" Brilliant and incredibly helpful eh? Oh, and did I want to leave my name and phone number? Let me think about this . . . Um, a crazy guy is yelling outside my neighbor's door, he saw me drive past, possibly saw where I live, and I watched CSI last night about a bunch of crooked cops. What if he's a crooked cop too and has access to the records of who calls in the bad guys! (Paranoid much? just a wee bit) "No, thank you!" I politely declined. Anyhoo, we went on our merry little way and dropped Kolbi off at school.

When we got back, a cop car pulled into our neighborhood just before us and pulled up to our neighbor's house. Of course the guy was gone. I pulled (once again very casually, cause Casual is my middle name right?) into the garage, but didn't shut it. The kids unbuckled and lined up at the back window like a little row of pink peas to observe the cop get out and knock on the door. No one answered and I began to think, "Well, maybe no one was home anyways. No harm in being cautious though right?" After what seemed like a long time, a woman with a baby on her hip and toddler at her side, opened the door. It was hard to tell, but she seemed a bit frantic and suddenly I was so relieved that I had called in reinforcements. What if those were my babies? What would I do if some crazy person was pounding murderously at my door? Why didn't SHE call the cops?

The show was pretty much over, I got the kids out of the car and closed the garage door just as a second cop car pulled up. I don't know what happened after that. But I ended up having a very enlightening and scary discussion with Jonah when he asked,

"What bad word was he saying Mom?"

"I'm not going to repeat it son."

"Was it the f-word?"

Wigging a little bit, I asked, "How do you know what the f-word is?"

"Is it the f-word I say sometimes?" WHAT??!!??

Then I remembered that a few weeks back he kept singing one of his little made-up, nonsense-word songs. He kept saying "fok" as just another nonsense-word, but is sounded so much like the bad word it made my ears burn every time and I dis-allowed him from saying that word anymore. Ah! Ok, now I get it!

"Yes honey, that's the one."

"But mom, (since he is Kindergarten now and an official expert at letter-sounds) it just sounds like fox with the the ending for duck. How is that a bad word? What does it mean anyways. Why do people say it? Why, why, why, what, what, what???"

I quickly put a ki-bosh on the 20 questions and moved to a different topic. But wow! What a morning! How about a little peace on earth and a Merry little Christmas to you!?

November sum-up

Time to play a little catch-up on November. I feel like my life and I are in a footrace. My life is smugly always three laps ahead of me, waiving victoriously. Meanwhile I'm three feet from the starting line already wheezing and frantically trying to catch my second wind. I say, wait up old bean!
Early this month my brave sister Kirsten and her equally brave husband Steve welcomed their 5th son into their beautiful family. Matthew John Gorski boldly made his debut 3 weeks early and is just a bitty little guy. That makes him the 21st grandchild in the Peterson family (did I count that right Mom?). His proud big brothers are thrilled and are already teaching him the ropes.
Isn't he gorgeous?!
Thanksgiving break was won-der-ful! Just the break I needed. We almost stayed in town as we were still battling with passing the sickies around. The two mini-est (c'mon, it's a word, right?) monkies were still a snottin' and a coughin' all over. The night before we were to jet off to Tulsa to see the extendeds, Zoe had a lava-hot fever. Mike Ogden, our ever faithful friend and Home Teacher, took time from his adorable new little man Zachary (also born in November--fabulous month for birthdays isn't it Leisha?) to help with giving her a blessing. We'd decided that night not to make the trip and subject the cousins to The Gamboo. But morning came with a miraculously happy, healthy Zoe. The local doc declared her healthy, the family approved (including the parents of the cousins), so we frantically threw all our stuff in the van and trekked it on out to Tulsa.

It was just what the doctor ordered! For me at least. Mimi and Pop graciously welcomed us. Turkey day we gathered with much of Chris's fam (minus Ian, his sweetie Brandee, and son Brysen--we missed you guys). We ate, we schmoozed, we ate, we played, we ate, we giggled, we ate some more. It was so nice! Here are a few pics of the said event. (I would have more, but that would mean I would have to hook up the camera, download the pics, clean them up, load them on the slide, and post them. I'm feeling entirely too lazy for that. Bronwyn, my awesome and talented SIL, took some fabulous ones that were readily available, so check em' out)

Poor, poor Chris had to spend the whole break holed-up studying for his Nasty Clinic Entrance exams. He did take a break, however to take me out for a fabulous lunch on my birthday (sans mini-monkies, thank you Mimi and Pop!). I got an amazing surprise present--a sewing machine! I'd been coveting my friends' machines for a while now and Denise (Chris's mom) decided to save me from all that sinnin'. She gave me her gently used one and I'm so excited! Woo hoo! No more beggin' and borrowin', I can make my little projects whenever I get the hankering! On top of that, Pop and the kiddos made me the fudgiest batch of brownies ever for my b-day treat! I couldn't think of another thing to ask for. What a blessed girl I am!

Towards the end of the trip I'm sure Chris's parents were ready to tell us not to let the door hit us in the nether-regions on the way out. Zoe was so over tired (she blatantly refused to associate with the letters N. A. or P.) she was a little ball of rage the whole time. Like a mini Krakatoa, she blew her top regularly in spectacular displays of molten magma and flying debris! By the grace of God, she crashed hard on the way home and took a beautiful 2 hour nap, then was absorbed into shows (bless you little dvd player!) until about 20 minutes from home. Whew! Since catching up on her sleep she has become a tame little volcano. But over the break, she learned the fine art the ever popular 2 year old tantrum! Complete with the throwing of herself on the floor, balls of raging fists, feet stomping, eyes squidged up tight (c'mon, it's my blog, I can make up ridiculous words if I want to!), and lungs just bursting with the melodious sound of glass-shattering scream. It's a sight to behold I tell ya! Only time will tell if she actually survives until 2.
We were beginning to worry a little bit about Zoe's language development. It was a bit on the slow side and we were considering getting her tested. It didn't help that we spent Thanksgiving withBronwyn's boy Bennett, who is only 2 months older than Zoe but quite the smart little chatterbox. Well, she had a language explosion this last week and a half. She's suddenly saying a lot more things. I've suspected she was saying things for a while now, but like a stranger in a strange land, I just wasn't catching on to her foreign language. But now she's saying things more clearly. It's a nice little *whew* moment. It's fun to hear her talk too. Maybe now she won't scream at me so much. Hah!
Chris took his Clinic Entrance Exams last week. These are a series of ultra-important performance tests (the fun, fun kind where two professors lean over your shoulder and wait anxiously for you to screw up so they can dock points. Oh yeah, and if you don't pass, you can't move on with the rest of your schooling! No pressure eh?) What a pain in the patootie! He studied until he felt like his brain was on frappe. And then he studied some more! That boy studied more than I'd ever seen anyone study! It paid off though. We know he passed most of them and we're waiting until Friday to find out the results of 1 more before he can breathe. I'll keep you posted.
There. I did it! All in all, it's been a crazy but fun month. Maybe some day I'll catch up to that ever fast-paced life of mine. *Meep! Meep!* Then again, maybe not!

Baby blue's fun

Just wanted to share a few giggles from my favorite comic strip. Enjoy!

Roses amidst the thorns

Ok, I'm fairly recovered from my hormone-induced insanity. I seem to have my perspective and coping abilities restored to a degree. Oh how those 'Mones wreck havoc on my life and sanity!!

Despite all of the craziness of the last few days, there were beautiful moments too. They were overshadowed by the dark cloud I was walking around in, but today they are luminous, and boldly obvious. They say sometimes you have to feel the piercing of the thorn to appreciate the beauty of the rose. These are a few of the sun rays peeking between the clouds, my roses amidst the thorns. . .

While feeling overwhelmed, distraught, and ready to throw in the towel, I happened to glance at the conference edition of the Ensign.

Had I opened it today and partook of it's beauty, peace, and wisdom? Nope.

Had I done so, would today would have been different? I'm certain it would have.

Anyways, I noticed the faces of the first Presidency staring out at me from the cover. The look on the faces of these amazing men whom I have admired and sought direction from all my life seemed to speak volumes to me. They looked out at me with all of the serenity and wisdom that come from being so close to God, and it was if they were silently urging me to hang on. To try a little harder, be a little better. To not forget the reason I'm here and the reason I chose these little treasures. To look beyond the frustration, and slime, and noise and see these children for who they really are-- amazing little individuals, precious gifts that the Lord has lent me to care for, little pieces of my own heart wandering around outside of my body. It gave me hope and perspective. It gave me renewed purpose and a desire to live up to my Heavenly Father's expectations of me.


Late one night, well past when the kids should have been drifting in dreamland, I heard crying from one of them. I investigated and found my Kolbi distraught and in tears. After I was able to calm her a bit, she spilled the beans. She had done something she shouldn't have at school (a minor infraction). She didn't tell the truth about it and felt horrible about it. She was so upset and scared, my heart really went out to her. Chris and I assured her that what she had done could be fixed. It was important to to talk to her teacher and make it right, and the fact that she felt so bad about it was a good thing. It showed what a good girl she was, and that she was listening to the Spirit. She was worried about the consequences--it would mean getting a lower grade at school, a bad mark on the board (meaning she wouldn't be able to pick a prize from the treasure box at the end of the week--something she's only missed out on once since school began) and her teacher would call her parents and inform them. We reminded her that we already knew and weren't mad so that part was already over with. Her teacher would likely be disappointed, but ultimately impressed that she chose to tell the truth and fix it. And we discussed which was more important to us/her teacher/Heavenly Father, that she get a good grade, or tell the truth and fix the problem. Ultimately it was a sweet, spiritual experience. It was one of life's beautiful little learning moments, the joy that our sweet daughter felt she could talk to us about it, the opportunity to remind her how much we love her, no matter what she does. It was sweet to once again, see her through Heavenly Father's eyes.

Then there were the little rosebuds. A fevered brow, usually too busy with play and discovery, cuddled in the crook of my neck. A pudgy little hand wrapped up in my hair. Those unfathomably deep big brown eyes looking at me with such trust that I can make it all better. Those late-night one-on-one snuggle sessions so reminiscent of the midnight feeding sessions I used to have with each of them.

I guess ultimately, now that the clouds have passed, I see that the beauty of the roses was worth the prick of the thorns.

S.O.S!!!

**disclaimer--major whine fest comin' on folks!!!! Either buckle up for the ride or take a flying leap while you still can!**

All is NOT well in Zion today folks! Wow, I am so OFF this weekend and it's starting to take over my week too. Stupid, Stupid hormones!!!! Ironically the same hormones that allowed me to have children are making me abhor them today! How fair is that? I'm gonna kill me some chilins! I am so on-ree with a capitol ON!

This has been my day . . .
[picture horrible screeching here]
Now is when I can hear that little red, pitch-fork carryin', ruckus-causing devil whispering in my ear . . .

Do you know what that sound is, highness? Those are the shrieking eels!
If you don't believe me, just wait. They always grow louder when they're about to feed on human flesh! If you swim back now I promise no harm will come to you . . . I doubt you'll get such an offer from the eels.

Oh, how I want to swim away today! Then sometimes, I just want to turn around and bite the little suckers back!!!

I'm covered in green slime from two, count em, TWO sick slimy slug children (Yes Dad, we are discussing snot again). I need a rain slicker, those hip-wading fishing boot thingies, and a gas mask here! I can't even tell you how tired I am of wiping the snot off of little noses to the tune of them screaming like I was deliberately ripping the noses off their faces.

On top of the leaky nose valves, there's the ever present broken volume button issue. My kids are set at eardrum-piercing loud. I think my ears are . . . yep, they are. They're bleeding. Or maybe that's cerebral-spinal fluid leaking out of my ear from the intense trauma of those sound waves bouncing around endlessly in my skull! I've taken to wearing earplugs to buffer the insanity.

Every time I turn around to deal with plugging up the Hoover dam (aka. the bitty snotty thing), World War III breaks out in the other room and one or the other of the boys is continually marching in to me proclaiming “so-and-so hit/ pinched/ pushed/ violated my no-fly zone/ broke the treaty/ poisoned the water supply/ imprisoned my troops/ bombed my capitol/ sank my battleship/ tortured my ambassadors!” While the other marches in with full-on 60's garb, carrying his picket signs vehemently protesting that “No I did not! He's lying! It wasn't me! The dog did it! I'm innocent! I've been framed! I would never do that! I'm an angel! See my halo?” This is when Switzerland Mommy holds an intervention. We sit down and I dole out punishments/ negotiate peace treaties/ and initiate “make it up to them” plans of action. All is well . . . .for about 5 minutes. Lather, rinse, repeat. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Miss Zoe is so empathetic that whenever anyone else starts crying (usually as part of the post-traumatic-stress-disorder resulting from WWIII), Zoe feels the need to add her voice proclaiming her woes and how they are so much worse that the original cry-er's (actually this would be very cute as she is not actually hurt, but crying with a smile on her face—except for the noise. The noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!).

I finally round up the troops for a little exercise outdoors (does killing each other count as exercise?). The baby, who is running a high fever and draining like a sieve, follows me around either wanting to be held (thus using me as a human napkin) or carrying her shoes proclaiming pitifully “Ma Ma! Mysh ooos!”

How am I handling all this you might ask? I'm taking it all in stride. Always ready with a perfectly resolved/fair answer to the problems. Nary an unkind thought/word. I'm as cool as a cucumber. All is sunshine and roses here. Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens eh? I have noticed that my hair is falling out in chunks. But I'm sure that's completely unrelated. My face keeps doing this funny twitch type thing. I'm breaking out in an itchy rash, and I can't seem to stop crying. All in all, I'm fine. Go about your business folks. Nothing to see here!

Ok, enough of the rant. I've got to go set up the Vitamin C IV drips. Come out, come out, wherever you are!

6 Things . . .

Ok, I have been tagged by Miss Amy. These are 6 lesser-known facts about me. Yawn-worthy--perhaps, but this one's for you girl!

• Artsy fartsy stuff is my therapy. Chris, who is quite the smarty about neurological matters, says it feeds my brain. Heaven knows my brain needs all the nourishment it can get! My dad graced me with a very minuscule fraction of his creative genes. I LOVE to draw, write, sew, paint, and bake (not cook mind you--I hate cooking lately). Unfortunately, with a house full of mini-monkies I don't get to do them very often (you could say they're my roses). I guess if you see me start tic-ing, hand me some paper and a pencil or something. Here's a sampling of my therapy sessions.
  

• When it comes to asking someone to help me I carry guilt around like a backpack full of rocks. I hate when Chris comes home from his crazy/full/busy/exhausting day and feels the need to help me pick up the slack at home with the housework drudgery (I have no qualms about letting him help me with the monkies). I especially have a tremendously hard time asking anyone to take my kids for me when I have to go to one of my many appointments. Lest you misunderstand me, it's not that I ever think of my kids as a burden. I also don't think I can do it all and am too proud to ask for help. Far from it--the tasks I usually need help with are majorly kicking my booty and I see my friends struggling with their own tasks/lives and I can't stand the thought of adding my craziness to theirs. If I have an impending appointment where I can't take my kids with me, I freak out for days about asking someone to watch my kids for me. Crazy huh? Don't worry, I'm getting counseling!

• I have an alter ego. Justin discovered it and revealed it to my hubby. Is nothing sacred? Well, check this out and so much about me will be revealed!
  
  

• I want to be a counselor someday. Ironic eh? With all my insane quirks and tics, I hope that someday I can rise above them and help other people with their own. I actually got a bachelor's degree towards this end, but I would have to get a Masters in order to practice. Someday . . .
  

• I am a big nerd.Not so much in the stereo-typical, wearing glasses, pants hiked up the my shoulders sense, but definitely a nerd none-the-less. I always was nerdly in high school (I always got decent grades, didn't get into to much trouble, was part of the National Honor Society and hung out with the mostly brainy kids)--probably much to my parent's relief (and mine if truth be told). I couldn't dress myself worth a hill of beans--I was even a bad 80's dresser which is a double-whammy! I still can't dress myself. All those clothes I got? Don't know how to wear them. I think I hit lucky combinations sometimes, but for the most part, I'm just at total goofball who can't dress herself. I've never been a girly-girl (hence I don't always know what to do with my extremely girly-girl Kolbi). Unfortunately I wasn't the athletic tom-boy type either--way too uncoordinated for that. I just was always more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt than anything else. Since I've been married, Chris has been able to train me a little bit on what looks good (He's the yin to my yang). But I know there are days when he just shakes his head and moves on. Thank heavens for his infinite patience!
  

• I'm very accident prone. When I go down, I've got to go down in a blaze of glory too--no half-way-namby-pamby boo boos for me! No way! Check it out . . . When I was 11 I crashed my bike, bonked my noggin big-time and was out of school for 2 years because I ended up being such a dizzy blonde I couldn't even walk straight. I've broken both of my feet (at different times thank goodness). I cracked 2 vertebrae in my lumbar spine (dig the chiropractic lingo?) while on a first date with a guy in college. He was driving a motor boat with me brilliantly sitting on the inner tube at the other end of the tow rope. He whipped me around and straight toward the floating dock the other half of our double-date was sitting on. Faster than you can say "holy moley!" I slammed into the dock, dislodged from the tube, and did a brilliant double flip over said couple and into the drink on the other side of the dock. Poetry in motion I tell ya! I spent the first week of my college sophomore year flat on my back in my lovely apartment. **as a side note, that same year of college, I also got a RAGING kidney infection, and spent finals/graduation week with my face puffed up like a really greedy chipmunk storing up for the winter due to a lovely little thing called MONO. Not exactly my best year!** I've had numerous other injuries and illnesses, too many to mention. This is why it will probably be a snowy day in hades before Chris gets me on a snowboard. Maybe someday I'll have a deathwish, but don't hold your breath hon!

I now tag Bronwyn, and anyone else who hasn't done this yet (I've lost track). Go, do!

Tending Roses

If you know me, you'll know that I relish any opportunity to read a good book. It will follow me around like a faithful little companion (often propped up as I dry my hair, wash dishes, and eat lunches) and wisk me into other worlds and away from my own troubles and cares for a time. After my forays into the lives of others, I find myself renewed and more able to face my own fears, slay my own dragons, tend my own roses. I just finished reading a wonderful book. It true nerdly fashion, I had to do a book report! The book is Tending Roses by Lisa Wingate. Apparently it's the first in a series I now intend to read.



Tending Roses is a beautiful story about a young couple, Kate and Ben, struggling to keep it together. They're given the task of watching Grandma Rose (a strong-willed octogenarian who is going senile and becoming a danger to herself) for a little while until the rest of the family can get there to take her away to a nursing home. In the process, however, Katie (through a series of letters her grandmother writes to her) comes to find herself and the purpose she wants for her life. I found so much of the story poignant, touching, and very uplifting.

Check out this letter from Grandma Rose to see what I mean. . .

"Once, a poor hired lady came with a bouquet of roses and wildflowers clasped in her hands. She told me that her children had sneaked into my garden and picked them for her, and that they would be punished. I bade her not to scold the children, for I was proud to give them this gift. She smiled, and thanked me, and told me that, with so many children, she had no time for tending roses.

I did not understand her words until my own children were born. When the first was a babe, I took her outside and let her play in an empty wash barrel so I could have time for tending my roses. I was often cross with her cries while I was at my work. As she grew, and as my second child was born, I understood what the hired lady had told me - that motherhood leaves no time for selfish pleasures. Only time for tending others.

My roses grew wild and died as I busied myself with feeding and diapering, nursery rhymes and sickbeds. I missed those bright blooms that had been mine and felt it unfair that I must leave my hard work there to die. But I did not think of it overmuch. My mind and heart were occupied with the sorrows and joys of motherhood.

The day came, it seemed in no time, when my children were grown and gone, and I again found time to tend the roses. I could labor over them from dawn until dusk with no children to feed, no husband needing meals, and few passersby on the old road. My flowers have come thick and full and beautiful again. From time to time, I see neighbor children come to pick them when I am silent in my house. I close my eyes and listen to their laughter, and think that the best times of my life, the times that passed by me the most quickly, were the times when the roses grew wild."

Also, for a first chapter excerpt of the book, go here.

All Hallow's Eve

Oh Glory be! It's one of those blessed days when I get to drop my kiddos off on someone else's doorstep and be a selfish mommy (thanks Emily!). And what do I decide to do with my time? Do I try to make a dent in the Mount Rushmore of laundry? Do I get in a good workout sans mini monkies? Do I actually clean my sticky kitchen floors? Nope, notachance, and noway! I'm catching up on my blog and endeavoring to wash my grimy body for the day. FuN!

I'm late, late, late, (it took me a while to get it together, pics didn't want to upload--probably too offensive) but I thought I'd share in our Halloween fun. The kids had a ball at the tri-ward trunk-or-treat. Of course, they came home with bucko-candy (the chocolate variety was sampled for good measure by Chris and myself later that night. Shhh!!)



On the actual night of Halloween, we were invited to the Conway's house. Justin is an old friend of Chris's from before the days when he (Chris) was know to strut his muscular stuff at the high school Mr. Beef contest (I know! I'm dying to see the video of it too! Hint, hint, wink, wink Justin!). **Tee Hee! Read this post quick everybody 'cause Chris will shut me down when he reads this!** They grew up together in Oklahoma and have known each other forever. Joy of all joys, Justin and Chris both ended up in Texas (within 45 minutes of each other no less). Sing it with me now . . . It's a small world after all!

Justin's wife Adrian is fabulous too--She's gorgeous and I don't think I've ever seen her stop smiling. We have so much fun hanging out with them. I laughed so much that night my cheeks are still sore. They have an adorable dog, Bearon, who was equally decked out in festive attire (he unfortunately got locked away for the night since my ridiculous boys were TERRIFIED of his sweet little self--poor, poor, Bearon!). Scared of creepy Halloween decorations? Not so much. Sweet, little Bearon? Histerics! That's a whole post in and of itself!

The Conways need to buy stock in Halloween decorations, because they must have bought up the whole supply in a 10 mile radius. Justin is also a genius at making Halloween decorations. Last year he created the most life-like (or would that be dead-like?) skeletons out of Mcgyver-ish supplies. Check out these bad boys!
He also made the amazing scarecrow in front of their house. This guy has an 8 foot wingspan! Genius--I told ya! (Sorry, the picture doesn't nearly do it justice)
When he gets his web site up for selling his wares I'll post it for ya and you can check out his creepy friends.

Even with all of the mini-monkey noise and madness we bring into their beautiful (huge, every- square- inch- decorated- in- Halloween- attire, puts- our- house- to- shame) home, they keep inviting us back. Saints? I definitely think so! A little bit crazy? Quite possibly. Or maybe we're just really good birth-control eh? :)

Anyhoo, we trick-or-treated their neighborhood, then headed back to their house where we found Adrian sitting in a monkey suit (without the mask or gloves--too sweaty she said) handing out candy. The kids explored the endless halloween decorations, snuck way too much candy (Justin busted out the Fear Factor candy just for the monkies, mmmm slimy slugs and caterpillars!), and were quite entertained by the plethora of prop knives and a package of costume mustaches! We talked, played, and laughed late into the night (well past monkey-bedtime anyways).

Check out these photos to see what I mean.
Chris letting his hair down.


Adrian properly awed by Aiden's goodies.


Mini Groucho Marx


*sigh* I thought I had a few years before I had to teach Kolbi the womanly art of eye-brow waxing.

Heir Docktor

Doesn't the smiley-face shirt totally fit the image?

Aiden says he looks like grandpa now.

Note the mini-psycho playing with the knife in the corner?


It's a good thing she's surrounded by adult supervision eh?
Thanks again Conways! It was definitely a night to remember!
(p.s. Sorry Bearon!)