Over The Weekend.

Over the weekend I forgot to take a political science quiz which actually frustrates me because I read the chapter for it and everything.

We purchased a TV table and then canceled it, realized it looked exactly like the extra desk piece we have in the office so why don't we just use that instead?

And by moving the extra desk piece out of the office and into the TV room the office now has more room to create it into a type of reading room, or library per se, and to my utter surprise, The Man agreed.  He'll still have his work space in there but we'll now set up so that people who want to chill and read (at least half our family, thank you very much) will have a place to do it without camping out in the TV room.  It's going to be my favorite room when it's finished, I can tell already.  Also this is the room that we've painted gray, so that helps abundantly in it being my favorite room.

Although I was told recently that gray isn't a color, it's a shade.  So in that sense I guess I don't have a favorite color.

I have a favorite shade.

Except right now our entire TV room has been crammed into our office because some of the wood floor we put in shifted and now it needs to be fixed.  But we're on our way to being done with the details of that TV room and it will feel good to have one of our project rooms completely finished.

Especially since I've started tearing Tay Cali's room apart to start redecorating that place for them.

It never ends.

I faced the dreaded grocery shopping and our house now has food in it again.  Which is good since I forgot to send Cas with lunch money so she had to make a lunch this morning.  Having food in the house is generally a good thing.

We took the youth to do baptisms at the Draper Temple.  But instead of sit in the baptistery chapel and wait for them, we snuck out and did initiatories instead, which happened to put me on cloud nine for the rest of the day.

I finally got to listen to my Brad Wilcox talk on CD as I drove to halfway to Vernal to retrieve my girls.  I love how that man puts things and I hope to one day be able understand and teach as he does.

And I stopped at Strawberry Reservoir to take this picture.

And Tayler and Sean got their student council shirts on Friday.

You know, the ones where Tayler earned her money in two days flat and where Sean said, no thank you I have better things to spend my money on.  But then Sean was told it wasn't optional.

Which turns out to be okay because now that he has it, he hasn't taken it off since.

How To Feel Like a Grown Up. And How To Not.

There's something about visiting with a financial adviser to make you feel like a grown up.

Because, you know, the getting married (twice), having six kids, and working full time hasn't done it for me.

But say the sentence, "I have a meeting with my financial adviser today," now that's a grown up thing to say.

I find being a wife just makes you say things like, "don't pinch me with your monkey toes," and you have to deal with a lot of flatulence.

And being a mom makes me use words like "potty," even when I'm with adults.  Also, I understand way too many Dr. Who memes.

And can even say that, in my opinion, the tenth doctor it my favorite, and actual know what I'm saying.  I'd like to interject here that this by no means makes me a Whovian.

See?  Not feeling very grown up by having kids.

Start asking me questions that use words like, "assets," "estate," and the ever looming word, "retirement," and I feel more grown up than I'm ready for.

Next thing you know I'll be setting up trusts and wills.

But I think being prepared for the end of life is going to help me enjoy the prime of it so much more.

On a side note, I have a ton to catch up on from the last few weeks, I just need to find a moment to plug my camera into my laptop so I can steal the pictures off of it.  It doesn't seem like we've done too many big things this summer, which is unusual for us.  We've been more wrapped up in a bunch of little things and I can't really say that I like it.  I much prefer spending my summer in the big things.

This, of course, only means that we'll have to do something big in the winter.  Which might actually work out well since The Man doesn't do well being cooped up with no sunshine or warmth.

Coming up:

Our giant 24th of July (that's Pioneer Day for you non-Utah folk), only a month behind
a day at Utah Lake
Girl's Camp (word!)
... and I can't remember what else.  I need my camera to know what I'm missing.

Because Now There Are Smiles.

I feel like my life has been a pretty amazing journey.

In high school the plan was a fairly simple one, though sadly, it didn't sit outside of the Utah Mormon box.

I would go to college and which college I went to was very important because it was the one were I would meet my husband.

I had no plans to actually graduate.  College was a source to find him, because at that point in my life I was certain that I would not be marrying anyone that I had grown up with.

There was no high school sweetheart for me to hold on to.

Well, there were several, but not one in particular.

I was going to marry a man who shared the same religious beliefs I did, we would have a family of perhaps six kids, and I would be a stay at home mom.

And that was my solid plan.  What could go wrong?

I pictured us happy and living the gospel together and seriously when I pictured it in my mind, it looked an awful lot like this:

{pic source}

There you have it, right there in that picture, when I saw my future, this is the image that came to mind.

Except with more color.

But that isn't how it's gone, and as that life crumbled away I mourned it.  I fought it.  It was my identity and the entire image of who I was and it was gone.

I was gone.

Which is ironic in a sense because when I had it, I didn't really exist then either.

As the journey played out for me, I did go to college, and I did find a husband through college connections, and I did drop out and marry him.  We started our family right away and though I didn't make it to six kids, I did make it to four and I felt very certain that that was the extent of my having children.  I felt complete with that number and have never looked back with "baby hunger."

But as the journey also went, the picture wasn't actually like the one above.

And eight years is a long time to lose yourself at the actions of the one person that should be the one who loves more than anyone, and yet doesn't.

Eight years is too long to define yourself with the one thing that is sucking your individual worth away.

That picture above never really was.

When I finally walked away I was an empty shell with no direction because the one thing I had aimed for in life would never be.  And I didn't know where to go now.

I became a working, single mom.

And I threw myself into a lot of crazy avenues looking for validation and worth.

There was a pivotal moment where I sat in my new to me apartment and knew that I was at a crossroads.
No one from my church knew I was there and I had the perfect opportunity to slip through the cracks.

It was then that I knew I couldn't.

It was then that I found my ground again.  And I began to build up.

I met the most amazing man, and though we don't share the same religious beliefs, he is my perfect contrast, and my perfect compliment all wrapped up into one supportive and kind man.

I got a job where I began to excel and prove to myself that working, although a necessary evil, was something I could be good at.

I bought a house.

I bonded with my girls, despite having to struggle with using daycare, something I never wanted to do, it forced me to focus on them at home.

I built strong relationships with them at that point in our lives because they were all that I had.  And a lot because of the guilt I felt for needing daycare.  But the focus I put into the relationships with the four of them has resulted into strong relationships even now, six years later.

I got married to that supportive kind man.  The man who has shown me that I can still be an individual while being in a relationship.  And his two kids added to mine made a family with six kids.

And I some how landed a job with the Attorney General's Office.

I went back to school.

And I found me.

Before when my life did come close to resembling that picture above, the only difference was that there was no smiling.

Now, we're crazy and running around in all sorts of different directions... and I realize that in all of that, I've found what I was aiming for in my life.

Because now there are smiles.

And that's pretty good.

Today I...

Today I woke up early and got my laundry rotated.

Today I woke up early for my lovely yoga class, which has slowly been getting better.

Today I did not leave early enough to go running.

Today I listened to two chapters of the Book of Mormon on audio CD as I drove to campus.

Today I was told as I walked into the  LAC building by a guy who works at the counter (and who also happens to be in my yoga class) that yoga class has been canceled this morning.  Sick teacher equals no class.

Today I spent 15 minutes in the grocery store buying fingernail polish remover, naked juice, and the last part of what I need to send a little something something to my brother who's deployed.  And my prego sis in law and my rockin' nephew just because.

Our Own Kind Of Crazy

I remember the things that my mom used to nag me about when I was a kid:

Don't use so much toilet paper when you blow your nose.
Don't put sharp knives in the sink, set them behind the faucet.
Don't sit on the bathroom counter when you're doing your make up.
Don't be even a minute late for curfew.  Literally, not even a minute.

Sometimes it was embarrassing.
Sometimes I rolled my eyes.
A lot of times I got grounded.

And I looked at these things as I had kids and sorted them out in my mind.  Which ones made sense?  Which ones prove that my mom is crazy?

{pic source}

Every time I blow my nose it haunts me, how in the world do I use less tissue?

I still haven't figured that one out. Because, frankly, what comes out, comes out.  And you bet I'm going to use whatever tissue I need to mop that mess up.

 I'm chalking that one up to my mom is crazy.

 And probably stressed about how much toilet paper we went through and her grocery budget. I get that part. Grocery shopping is my nemesis.  But knowing the stress that it still causes  me, even as an adult, I'm not going to pass that one on to my own kids.  Let's nag them about something else, like not pouring more milk than you can drink.  That one makes more sense on the grocery budget.

Don't put sharp knives in the sink.

This one had a good reason I suppose.  There was a time when my mom (and even myself) reached into the soapy dish water and sliced her finger on a steak knife that was lurking on the bottom, undetected.

I understand this one, but we have a dishwasher (ah, progression) and don't fill the sink with soapy water so it's become obsolete in my mind.

Don't sit on the bathroom counter.

My mom was afraid that I would break the counter.

Let me set this up for you, I started high school at the age of 15 weighing a whopping 98 pounds.

98 pounds!

Guys, I blew away in a hard wind.

And this bathroom counter was a solid block.  Solid I tell you.  sitting on it's own foundation of wooden cupboards.

There's no way.

No way.

I weigh more than 98 pounds now.  A lot more.  And I'm still sitting on my bathroom counter to do my make up.

My girls will never hear, "don't sit on the bathroom counter" come out of my mouth.

Ever.

My mom was crazy on this one.

As far as curfew goes, if I was told a time to be home, I had better be home by that time and not a minute late.  If I was told to be home at 9:00, and I pulled that backdoor open at 9:01, my parents were there, arms folded, and letting me know that I was now grounded for a week.

I wish I were exaggerating.

I understand that they were trying to teach me promptness.
How to be on time.

I understand the lesson behind it.

But for reals.

One week for a minute?

I'm about 50/50 on being on time as an adult.  It actually depends on the priority level of the event I'm trying to attend.  Work?  Doctor's appointment?  Classes? Movies at the movie theater? I'm there if not five minutes early, at least on the dot.

But if it's *ahem* church?  A dinner party?  Meeting someone at the gym?  I'm going to roll in five minutes late, at the least.

Besides, if you show up early to church they ask you to do stuff, like say opening and closing prayers.

*shudder*

The thing is, my parents (not just my mom on this one) expected exactness on this one.  And I didn't feel it.  What was so important at home that I couldn't be there at 9:03 instead of 9:00?

Nothing at all.

I think this is a personality flaw on my part, but I'm not following my parent's crazy  in this.  If I tell my kids to be home at a certain time, they have a ten minute cushion to be there out of respect.  I get that.  Being on time has a lot to do with respect.   I still expect them to be on time for school, and show them that we need to be on time for appointments, and catching that first preview in the movie theater is vital.

Vital I tell you.

You came home from playing at 6:07 instead of 6:00?  I'm cool with that.  Unless you needed to be home so we could go somewhere, then I'm going to be upset.  But if that's the case, I forewarn them before they leave.  Be home at 6:00, don't be late, we need to leave as soon as you get here.  And they make sure they get home on time.  And life is happiness.

So here's the thing.

I think my parents were crazy.  They had their "things," whether they made sense or not.  And I might say I'm not going to do it like they did it.

But in reality,

{pic source}

I create my own kind of crazy.

You have to match your socks is a big one for me.

Why?

No reason whatsoever except for the plain and simple fact that it drives me up the wall when their socks don't match.

And my kids roll their eyes at me.

And continue to wear mismatched socks because in the long run, aside from my sanity, what does it really matter?  They know it, and I know it.

I'm sure my kids will grow up to be good parents who don't care one iota if their kids have matching socks on.

Our parents were crazy.

But let's face it, now that we're parents too, we're creating our own kind of crazy.

And so will our kids.

One Day At A Time

Sometimes I hit a moment where I feel like my head is spinning and I just want to hyper-ventilate.
Somewhere along the path of paperwork and deadlines at work,
dishes, vacuuming, and laundry,
schoolwork for The Circus,
making sure they brushed their hair and teeth before school,
only to realize they didn't and they've been walking around looking like that all day.
The peed beds,
dinner,
the kids coming to me one after another, Mom I need...
again and again,
lessons for church,
and the expectations I have on myself to do it all perfectly all the time.

Going over my English and biology syllabi yesterday did me in.

Each claiming to be a very difficult, yet fulfilling class.

If you put the extra effort into this class you'll do just fine.

Times two.

And I thought, where do I have the extra to give?

I might be slightly OCD and I might be okay with that.  It's in these frantic moments of "what have I turned my life into?" when something in me disengages and says, "hold up there girl, let's just map this all out."

And I sit down and start writing due dates in my planner.

Deadlines and meetings for work,
homework and activity dates for the kids,
holidays and birthdays,
homework due dates for me,
and appointments.

I color code it.

Pink for birthdays.
Green for my school.
Yellow for my work.
Orange for The Circus stuff.
Purple for church.

And then I take one week at a time and I look at what I have happening, and what's coming up due.

And then I break it down day by day, giving each item it's place in my time.

Homework will get done in advance because I scheduled it to be so.
Meetings and deadlines will be remembered at work because they have their slot.
Lessons for church will be prepared because time was set aside to do it.
Kids will be taken care of.
Cleaning will happen.
Date night sits there smiling at me.

And when I see that I really can fit it in, and that it really all can happen I start to feel a little better.

I stop looking at the semester.
I stop looking at the month.
I stop even looking at the week at this point.
I look at one day.
One item.

And then I do it.

And move on to the next item.

One day at a time.

Inversion. I Really Want To Move.

I tell The Man that my perfect place to live would be on the coast with the ocean a mere minutes away, palm trees, and a more temperate climate than what we enjoy here in Utah.

I think I could be really good at being a beach bum.

Call me crazy but below zero temps (F) aren't my bag of goodness.

But then I think about my mountains.

I tell you, I can't get enough of them.

To live within this beautiful scenery every day is amazing.

To have canyons and rivers, waterfalls and wildlife and forest minutes away.

But with that comes snow.

And sub-zero temps.

And...

sadly, this picture was taken in the summer, not even in the winter when the inversion gets really bad.

When the air is so thick that it blocks the mountains all together and you can see that the air is brown.

In fact, brown air is all you can see when you look across the valley in search of mountains.

The mountains have just... disappeared.

I think I need to start doing homework on places that are both ocean front and mountainside.

With clean air.

And English speaking.

And home to penguins.

Is that too much to hope for?

Aside from the fact that I'm in the middle of finishing my degree, in a job that I really want to progress with, and established in a really great neighborhood with family and friends that I love all in this valley...

I really want to move.

How's the scenery and air quality where you live?

Wanted: A Good Book. And Not Wanted: A Bent Fork. Plus Other Random Wanderings.

Confession: I have no idea what to write about today.

Do I come up with some funny story that I haven't put up yet?
(Like Cali pounding down the stairs from her bedroom screaming and yelling at the top of her lungs, "MOM! David Archuleta is REAL!  My favorite rock star is REAL! I've only heard him on my CD, but I just heard him on the real radio and that means he's REAL!"  She seriously went on for a good few minutes about it and I was just baffled by the fact that having his own CD didn't already make him a real person in her mind. I'm also baffled that she called David Archuleta a rock star.).

Or do I tell you about how yesterday Cali had me ready to be done with the day, I'm climbing into bed with a mint hot chocolate and not do anything else today done by 8:30 in the morning.  Which I should have just called it quits at 8:30 in the morning because she picked up and continued with her stubborn self until she had The Man and me out at 9:00 at night at the Middle School searching the snow for her white coat which she took off while sledding and didn't think she needed to bring home again.  Let me tell you, that seems like a small thing but it was just the icing on the cake of a very long day with her.

That girl can do stubborn.

To the extreme.

So we get to practice doing our responsibilities in a timely manner, with a good attitude for the next three days.  (Which loosely translates to "girlfriend, you have tested my very last patient mother nerve and now you're grounded and doing chores for the next three days").

I could tell you about how the mysterious pain in my joints has worsened in my shoulders to the point that it's waking me up at night because it hurts so bad and it's worrying me a bit because it's started in my wrist now. (Joining my knees, hips, and shoulders.  No it's not arthritis or lupus.  I've been tested for those.  And I'm debating on trying to go to the doctor about it again now that it's spreading to a new joint, but I'm fighting with the fact that they don't ever seem to know what it is and I don't want to start building up doctor's bills to figure it out, because it's apparently going to be a bit of a process to figure it out).

I could show you the picture of the fork I found in the silverware drawer.

I couldn't unbend it.  I have no idea who did it, or how it happened, or why they thought to put it back in the silverware drawer.

Maybe Mom and Dad won't notice if I just put it back in the drawer...

Guys.  If you're going to express super muscleman capabilities on my cutlery at least hide it in the garbage can.

And good news on the remodeling front.  There is no more navy blue carpet in the TV room.

Can I get a hallelujah?

Hallelujah.

Oh, I know what I can post about today.  One thing I do need is a good book to read, so if you have any good suggestions, please kindly leave a comment letting me know.  When there's snow outside and hot chocolate and peppermint cookies inside, you need a good book to read.

Thanks!

Fall's Challenge

Every autumn brings on cooler mornings and the thoughts of sweaters and using the heater in the car as you commute to work.

It also brings on thoughts of carving pumpkins, making witch curtains for the porch, and costumes, but I wasn't going to talk about that stuff today...

Where was I?

Oh, yeah.  With all those thoughts of a new and exciting season (seriously guys, only 21 days until Halloween) there's one challenge that comes full force into my mind.

This year will be the year that I don't catch anyone's cold.



{picture source}

I will not get sick this year!

I seem to be good at avoiding the strep throat that will inevitably make it's way through The Circus.  And The Man for that matter (poor guy). 

I seem to be good at avoiding the flu.  I can't remember the last time I was sick with chills and throwing up...

Knock on wood.

In fact, when the announcement came around for free flu shots at my work, and when everyone piled into cars to go get it, I politely declined the invitation to go.

But why?  It's free.  You won't get sick.

Except that I heard that if you get the flu shot once, you have to keep getting it because your body depends on it.  I kind of like that my body seems to fight it off on it's own and I don't want to ruin that.  Plus, I hear you can also get sick from the shot itself which just seems to contradict the whole point of getting the shot in the first place.

So I politely declined again.  I don't get the flu without the shot.  I don't need the shot.  I don't want it.

And they made fun of me. 

When you get sick and have to call in you can use our sick time to cover your hours, since we'll be healthy. 

They rubbed it in good.

Now, this year, above all other years, I can't get the flu.  The stakes have gotten too high with bragging rights.  And I'm much too prideful to succumb.

But where the challenge comes in for me, is the cold.  Every year I seem to catch a hand full of doozy colds.  I live off of NyQuil and alka-seltzer and airborne which knock me out cold on the couch everyday after work until I pull myself out of the sick, medicated haze to tell The Circus goodnight, tuck them into bed, and then collapse into bed myself.

I hate colds.

They get me every year.

So with the onslaught of fall the challenge is again here to prevent myself from getting sick with a cold.

Especially since there's a nasty cold already circulating my office.

This year I will conquer!

Rainy days and... Wednesdays. Road Rash and Crazy Hair. Today I Need Coke.

Lately, when Casidee gets home from school she can be found on her skateboard with a handful of boys.

Skating down the big hill in front of our house.

This type of activity usually results in something that looks like this:

Which I suppose it's only fair that she scraped up this elbow.

Now it can match her other one (that's almost healed).

I think it's time to wrap her in bubble wrap.

Just for the record, Cas thinks she is now old enough to tell me which pictures of her I'm allowed to post on the blog.

Apparently she's right, because I listened to her.

So also for the record, these pictures have been Casidee approved.

Yesterday was rainy, which I love. 

I love a good rainy day, and better yet, throw in some thunder and lightning.

The only thing about rainy days is that The Man works out in the wide open great outdoors and rain and snow can greatly affect his work day.  Sometimes he can work through the snow, but rain... rain is a different story.

You just can't do much with the wet and the mud.

But sometimes, if I'm a lucky wife, rainy days mean lunch with my man.

Even if he does show up at Red Robin covered in mud.  The hostess gave him a good look up and down, and then chose to ignore it, smiled, and seated us.

He's handsome, even covered in mud.

The Man tried to kiss me good bye while I was still curled up in bed this morning, only to catch my elbow square on his lip.  That's what happens when it's dark and you can't see each others movements.

Good morning baby. How about I give you a fat lip instead of a kiss?  He kissed me anyway, because he's forgiving like that, but I guess I better make it up to him tonight.

Today is crazy hair day at school.

Brynn chose the bun mohawk, Tayler went with Cindy Lou Who (tutorial on that here),

And cali chose what she likes to call "the palm tree braid."

The trick to pulling off crazy hair, is that it still needs to look good. 

Otherwise it doesn't look crazy, it just looks ridiculous.

I struggled this morning.  Even aside from giving The Man a fat lip, I over slept by an hour because I just couldn't get my brain to kick it into gear.  Which would have been okay except for the fact that I had to take the time to do crazy hair.  And Cas also overslept which left her frantic and ornery when her friends showed up and she couldn't find her glasses and didn't have her shoes on. I didn't get dinner into the crockpot this morning and have no idea what I'm going to make tonight now.  Also, the fact that I woke up to two peed beds this morning sent me into a tailspin.  I loathe peed beds.  Abhor them.  It makes me want to slam my forehead against the wall repeatedly, I'm so sick and tired of the smell of pee permeating throughout the house.  It seriously stresses me out.

And this is the mood that I'm left with today. 

I've been trying to be conscious of what I've been eating, but I think today calls for a McDonald's coke.  Not for the caffeine, but for the simple fact that I love it and I want something soothing today.

Also, I wouldn't complain if someone sent me chocolate covered strawberries.

Little Stories

Is it bad that I've stashed the hot chocolate where The Circus can't see it?

Is it bad that I drink a mug of it every night before bed, after they've already been tucked in?

Because it's mint.  And chocolate.  And warm after working all day.

And it's Stephen's, which means if you just cover up the "en" it has my name on it, so by all means, I have the right to stash that stuff out of sight.

Right?

Also, when you start out a work email in your department about a notice for the road being repaved outside your building, and the replies go and go until finally you all end up with an email that contains only this:

you know you're working with a fun group of people.

And last but not least this is what you get when you have a Navigator full of girls (it's night and you can't really see anything, but that's okay because this is about what you can hear :)):



and unfortunately what the video doesn't show (which makes me very sad that it got missed) was at the very moment that the video ended, my cell phone rang, blue tooth through the radio, which cut the song off and there was a collective, heartbroken

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo"

as I answered The Man's phone call.

Man, I so wish we'd gotten that part.

Things I Wonder

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I wonder why I'm always the last one to realize we're out of milk?

I wonder why I have an aversion to red meat?

I wonder what type of taxes would be passed if politicians weren't exempt from paying them?

I wonder why it takes me so long to open up to people?

I wonder why someone would think to capture this moment (below, not above, though I should probably wonder at that too), but I'm so glad that they did.

{Mik}

I wonder at the beautiful quiet moments that surround me and make up what is my life.

I wonder at what point will my circus start thinking that I'm totally uncool and embarrassing?  And I wonder is it a possibility that we won't hit that stage?

Here's to hoping because they're my best friends.  They're who I want to hang out with.

I wonder if I could steal this napkin holder from the gas station near my work?

Also, I wonder at the realization that the man who had me singing this song:



ended up with me singing this song:



While the man who had me singing this song:



ended up being the best thing that ever happened to me.




Interesting, isn't it?

Maybe not, but when it occured to me, I thought it was.

And if you didn't watch any of those videos, I would highly suggest just watching Stuck Like Glue.  I giggle every time at it.

It's Not Much, But It's Our Life

I'm slowly working myself ahead in my classes. 

That's the beauty of online classes, you can get ahead.

Our backyard is gorgeous, shaded, secluded and completely and utterly under utilized.  So that's where I went for some undisturbed textbook reading time.

And it worked.

Which makes me sad because seriously, our backyard is gorgeous. 

Maybe it's because of the dogs?

I think next summer, the backyard is going to be my project.  A vegetable garden, a fire pit, and maybe just maybe The Man will let me try my hand at building a picnic table for us to eat dinner on outside?

You know, instead of eating dinner on the front porch...

Already things are evolving with school participation.

Cas is taking beginning orchestra and thanks to Grandma Julie, we already have a viola for her to play.  That racket practicing will start next week, much to West's dismay.  But I really want my girls to learn how to play a musical instrument.

Cas also has plans on joining the track team so she's anxiously listening for details on when that will start.

Do people go to track meets to cheer on their kids?  I've never been to a track meet, I have no idea what they do there. 

I suppose this is the year I'll be finding out about that.

Brynn is already diving head first into her first book report.  We made a trip to the library last night for her to find a book. She has a list of genres she can pick from and she can't read the same genre twice.

What did she pick?

A biography.

On Catherine the Great no less.

I don't know much about Catherine the Great myself, except isn't she supposed to be some kind of mean ruler of Russia?  I guess I'm about to find out.

Brynn came up this morning and told me that she's already on chapter 8 and so far Catherine is really nice, but her husband is really mean. 

I'm actually interested in finding out what happens to her.  Maybe I'll have to read that book after Brynn's done with it.

Tayler's already talking about choir, and trying to talk Sean into it.  Sean wasn't having anything to do with it until Tay mentioned there would be a pizza party when it's all done.  That caught his interest.  I guess we'll see what he ends up deciding.  So far only Brynn and Tayler are interested in joining the choir.  Cali's still too young.  Next year she can.

I feel like life is really full and there's no room to lax.  I need to stay on my routine so that homework is done (for all seven of us), dinner is made, and the house is clean.  That's no small feat, but if we stay on our daily schedule, we seem to manage it without feeling overwhelmed. 

Busy, yes.  Overwhelmed, not yet.

I've been trying to stay on my flylady routines and that helps enormously with the cleanliness of our home.  Sometimes I slip off of following it, but if I can stay with it we usually end up doing really well and our house feels wonderfully clean.

I suppose that right there is something to be proud of?
It's not much, but it's our life.
And I'm pretty proud of it.

Life Rolls On. I'm Good With That.

School is starting. 

For me, today.

For Casidee, Friday.

For the rest of The Circus, Monday.

Summer is coming to an end.

Even though the heat is hanging on.

Even though we have one more plan to run away and see something new.

It's time.

It's time to load up on pencils.  No matter how many I buy, come December there won't be a pencil to be found in the entire house and it will be a nightly battle to scrounge one up to finish homework.  Times six.

It's time to anticipate the crisp fall air and wearing sweaters and boots with my jeans.

It's time to start making Halloween decorations so they'll be all ready when October 1st hits.

It's time for a hay maze.

It's time to get ready to hibernate in our house with rented movies and cookies and blankets.

I base the success of my year on how well summer went and frankly, this year was amazing.

I would say we slow down in the winter, but that's not true, we just switch gears.

Instead of packing and traveling and camping,
we'll be going to school functions, and tackling nightly homework and book reports and "at home" projects.

And though I hate to say it, it's time to crack down on Christmas shopping, because with this crew, my pocketbook demands that it be so.  We can't wait too long or we'll be stressed financially to make it happen.

Isn't it funny how seasons have different feels, not just in the weather, but in our schedules and routines?

It's hard for me to decide which is my favorite.  I love how the feel in our home changes with the season.  How we go from hanging out in the front yard to baking goodies and watching movies in blankets inside, and then back again.

Life rolls on.

I'm good with that.

Jayme's braces and other thoughts that are neither here nor there

Jayme started her braces.

If you ask her to show them to you, she'll hiss at you like a vampire, baring her teeth.

We're a little bit into vampires at our house.

{source}

Over the weekend I may or may not have eaten an entire box of mint ice cream sandwiches.

... all by myself.

Listening to this for a half hour straight was enough to drive me bonkers:

b

Sorry to our neighbors for that.
That ball just did not want to come off.
I blame it on West's dad, Mike.

We're a little off on our kid schedule right now with the winding down of summer, which left us with no kids on a Monday night.

The Man took me to the new Mexican restaurant that's been on my hit list.
Can we say new favorite restaurant?
They had an amazing guacamole sauce to go with the chips, and I got to order a stuffed avacado.

Chicken, cheese, and avacado? Sign me up.

Yesterday I pulled Casidee's class schedule from the school district's website.
Like it or not, Mom, Jr. High is happening.

Except in our neigborhood it's a middle school.

The girl is taking Chinese. 
(How am I supposed to help her with homework questions???)

After writing this post, and letting some people know about it, I received this in my facebook message box:

which is hysterical.

Does anyone else have that problem?  I know that one time I posted this picture of Cali and her ripped pants but I hardly think that qualifies...

{the original post}

I'm not sure that's how they wanted that to go

I don't know, I was just rooting for Bud the whole way.
He stole my heart.

I love Nickelback.
I love music videos with Jason Alexander.

Since I happen to be on Nickelback's email list

 (I'm waiting for my friend's Jen and Jason to disown me)

(no, really)

I was emailed this video and I laughed.
It kind of doesn't go with the feel of the song, but that's not the point of my rant.

So there's that.

And here's these.




I'm not cooler online.

But I am 6'3".

Okay not really.

I think the Nickelback email got me on a tangent.

Of Brad Paisley.

I'm not sure that's how they wanted that to go...

summer in the frontyard

Pure awesomeness.

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Have you ever had a really bad day?
I mean really bad?

Usually a day could be perfectly fine and then one little thing just ruins my mood and I spend the rest of the day trying to shrug it off.

What if your little thing that ruins your day goes viral?

And people start using your name as a phrase for messing up.
"He fecked it."

Still, it was amazing to watch, wasn't it?  Like a train wreck that you just can't look away from, hand covering gawking mouth with bulging eyes and you're torn between laughing hysterically and sitting in shock for the poor dashed Olympian dreams.

Have I ever had a moment like that?
If I have it's completely blocked from memory and I should probably keep it that way.

That was a tangent.  I opened up the internet today and I saw references to it on msn.  Obviously it just rolled downhill from there for me.

So on to what I was really going to post about today.

I love summer.

I base the success of my year pretty much on how good my summer was.

I think my favorite parts of summer are the parts where I'm hanging out with my circus in the frontyard.



The new thing is to tie a jump rope around Strider, who is the Clydsedale horse of Corgi's and have him pull you on Cali's little bike.

He loves it, so much in fact that the force of his pull snapped the jump rope in half.

At least once a week we get a knock on our door.
"Can you play night games?"

And it's randomly different groups of boys who come around and ask.
Last night the boys who wanted to play night games had played before, but they've never been the ones to show up and ask.
I can only imagine that seeing a yard full of girls can be intimidating for young boys.

They hung around the outskirts of the yard for a few minutes, not saying anything.  Not crossing past the fence that marked the line of our yard.

"You do it."
"No, you do it."

The girls were clueless.
They paid them no mind.

Until finally one stumbled past the fence, just barely, and without any preamble or howdy-do blurts out something along the lines of, "yo, night games?"

They always say they're going to go play at this house or that house but lately they've ended up in our yard.

Screaming and yelling.

I love it.

Terrible pictures but it was getting dark and I was trying not to be the embarrassing mom :).

One time, a group of boys showed up at our door and asked for Brynn.
And it was just Brynn, hanging out with a bunch of boys.

I find it amazes me, but then I stop to think about it.
So many of my best friends were boys.

I had my girl friends, but I found I was always much more comfortable hanging out with the guys.
So there we have it. 
I "complained" about it on facebook.  That Brynn was the only girl in a group of boys and one of my guy friends commented, "just like her mom.  And you turned out pretty well."

Lessons learned in our frontyard this summer:
Strider is super dog strong.
Boys aren't so bad.
You get to play night games an hour longer when you're in your own frontyard.
Mom has issues riding Cali's bike.
Dinner tastes better when we're all sitting on the porch eating it together.
Bodyrock is easier to follow through with when you're doing it together in the frontyard amidst peals of laughter. I should get a video of the girls trying to do it.  Cali does one squat jump and she's all giggles.

And it doesn't matter if inside the house is just a little bit cooler, there's just something about hanging out in the yard together.

Tomorrow I will tell a story. Today you get nothing.

I can't write the post I wanted to today because I forgot to grab the pictures I need for it.
Grrrr.
I read a quote the other day and it brought "the car crash" back to mind.  I realized I don't have a record of that, and it was pretty terrible, which made it pretty miraculous.  Tomorrow?  Tomorrow.
I'll have to put a reminder in my phone to grab the cd of pictures for it.
Because I forget things.

And I'm looking at what else I should be blogging about to keep track of things and none of it's really jumping out at me.

So instead I will entice you with pictures from Draw with Me.  You should all be playing with me.
If you did, you would get pictures like these:

Also, Chess with friends!  Where West is the only one who plays with me :). And he beats me :(. 

I've decided that Words with friends frustrates me.
Sometimes people use words and I just want to come back with, "use that in a sentence.  I dare you."
I think people cheat with that game.

And songpop, apparently, unless it's the 80's category, I have no idea what the songs are.
Does that make me old?
I feel dated.

I'm only 33. 
Maybe it's just because I've listened to them the longest.

Here's a random picture of the clouds that I took last night while sitting on the lawn of the church, waiting on teenage girls:

Pictures of clouds never get old.

Have I shared this picture with you yet?

West doing hand stands with the circus never gets old either.
At least I can beat West in a game of hands up stands up.

Take that West.

Tomorrow I will tell a story.  A grand story.
Today, apparently, you get nothing.