Aaaaand We're Back

The last time I posted was way back in October and I had plans to try and post at least once a month, but as usually happens, life got crazy.

Turns out quitting my job was a good things. That inability to be on my feet for 4-6 hours at a time was something I should have taken a little more seriously. On November 17 I went in for a routine prenatal appointment. I had felt a little crampy but I wasn't concerned. I should have been. I was only 34 weeks along and already dilated 3 cm. My midwife sent me straight to the hospital for monitoring.This was not good. Two hours later I was at 5 cm, despite shots and meds designed to stop labor. My midwife and the nurses were prepping me for the reality that if my baby arrived (and it looked like should would) she would spend at least three days in NICU.

While all this was going on, my older two kids were at home with Papa and a massive windstorm was devastating the area. A power line went down in our front yard and burnt the grass. Johnny tells me it was very scary.

Thankfully labor stopped on its own but I spent another two nights in the hospital. Partly to make sure it stayed stopped, and partly because we had no power and therefore no heat at home. When I did get home, we still had no power and I was on strict bedrest for 2 weeks.

The night I went home, my grandfather landed in the ER and was transferred to the ICU with meningitis. It was bad. My aunt drove through the night from Seattle and my sister was on the next available flight from Denver. He pulled through, though he is still in a rehab facility getting his strength back.

Long story short, life has been super crazy.

Evelyn Gayle very wisely stayed put for another 4 weeks and arrived only 10 days early on Dec 15 weighing 7 lbs 2 oz and measuring 20 inches in length. She was perfect and spent no time in the NICU.

Evelyn at just over 2 months old.

After Christmas, Lily turned 6 in January and the Seahawks didn't quite make it to the Super Bowl (there is always next year).

I had my tubes tied over Valentine's Day weekend to prevent this kind of chaos from happening again. Three kids is enough for me and I am exhausted.

Life is just now beginning to settle down, or maybe it just feels that way because Evelyn is learning to sleep through the night and so I am feeling a little less tired. That said, she is asleep, and this being the third time around, I know the wisdom of sleeping when she does.

Saturdays in Redneckville: A Sunday Hike

Like any blogger who is convinced they can become famous, I try to drive traffic to my blog by reading and commenting on other blogs. I'm not sure it works, but I have come across some blogs that I really enjoy and have begun reading regularly (because as a full time mother, full time failing housewife, and part time fabric store employee I totally have hours to waste devote to reading blogs online for the sheer enjoyment of it). One of the blogs I have become addicted to is Tilting at Windmills authored by CWMartin. He regularly writes about walks he takes with his dog, Scrappy, complete with pictures. One of these posts inspired me to take a hike as a family. Lucky for me the Seahawks had a bye week and Larch and I both have Sundays off. I told Larch I wanted to go for a hike, but I wanted a trail or a road or something to walk on because I am a wimp and smart money says at least one of us will be carrying at least one of the children at least part way back to the car. He thought about it, and picked probably the most awesome last minute destination ever.

We drove for an hour, maybe more, I was distracted by the view.

On any good hike, we start with food.

This is not a no trespassing gate. This is a keep the motorized vehicles out gate. My son pointed out that someone just drove their four wheeler around the gate. 

Lily never wants to hold Daddy's hand.

This was about a half mile in.

According to Larch, these are hallucinogenic. I will take his word for it as they also contain arsenic. 

This is blurry, but it is a really old wheelbarrow. This is how we knew we were getting close to our final destination.

Old Mine shack/shaft. Well played husband.

So what does any good North Idaho family do?

 We get closer...

and closer...

and look inside.

And we go around and find another building. We think it was an office, living space, or MAYBE a secondary entrance.

See...Daddy has to carry Lily at least some of the time.

You can't tell from this picture, but we think this is the remains of a cooking stove.

It's hunting season, so we make our dog wear an orange vest.

Still carrying Lily.

That blue out there between the close mountains and the far mountains, is Lake Pend Oreille.

While I was busy taking picture of the distant lake, the kids were doing this...

We ended the day at Superman and Lois Lane's. Superman and Larch brewed some beer that should be ready around Halloween, while we watched movies and the kids played in the dirt. And Johnny lost another tooth.

He could be a Jack O'Lantern for Halloween this year. Or a cage fighter.

A Reply

If you haven't read "To My Friends Who Became Mothers Before Me" at Scarymommy.com, go here first and read it. This is my reply.

To my now knowledgeable, and therefore guilt-ridden, best friend who has finally taken the plunge into motherhood.

You are forgiven.

You are forgiven for uttering the words "I'm tired." You didn't know. I didn't know before kids either. Take heart, it gets better. It will be years yet, but eventually your children will be less demanding and you may get to sleep in or take a nap.

You are forgiven for your welling meaning baby food book. To be honest, I don't really remember you giving it to me, much less where I put it. 

You are forgiven for thinking it would be fun for you and your boyfriend to be my house guests days before delivery. I was the fool who said ok. I was thinking pregnancy is miserable and I needed a distraction from all the waiting.

You are forgiven for calling me with all of your single girl drama. Yes, talking on the phone is torture with young kids, but maybe more for you than for me. I was the one who kept interrupting you to yell at the kids. To be honest, I was feeling nostalgic about "the good old days" and you reminded me that my life as a mother was hectic but much less drama filled. And I was dying to talk to someone who could use words longer than two syllables.

You are forgiven for talking to me while sleep deprived. You didn't know. And don't worry about rubbing my feet. That's my husband's job.

You are forgiven for not bringing me food, or folding my laundry, or doing my dishes. (You are a better cook now, then you were then). Thank YOU for not commenting on the disastrous state of my house. For finding a place to sit amongst the clean but unfolded laundry piles with nary a word. And for holding the baby while I made you that lunch. I am human. I didn't tell you then, but all I did was warm up the leftovers from dinner the night before. I'm glad you liked it.

Please do not apologize for asking me to come downtown for margaritas. On the occasions I did go, I really needed an excuse to shower. On the times I didn't, I really wanted to, but passed out while putting the kids to bed. Speaking of margaritas, do you want to go out and have one, or should I bring the ingredients and the blender to your place after bedtime?

You are forgiven for your baby envy. It happens to everyone. Even when you have kids. Sometimes especially when you have older kids.

You are forgiven for not knowing my children's nap and meal schedule. I may have grumbled then, but it taught them to sleep anywhere and be flexible. And if you stayed with me through their crankiness, you have paid your penance. 

You are so welcome. Loving someone means putting someone else's needs before your own. I knew that before the stupid snowman said it to the girl who sang the song I can't get out of my head. I will always stand by you. You stuck it out with me.

Thank you. Mothers often feel under appreciated. You too, are doing an amazing job. You are an awesome mother. I am proud of you for taking on motherhood after having seen me struggle through it. You are truly brave. I will always be your friend.

A History of Cake

Today I will be discussing the history of cake. Sort of. I will be sharing pictures of the cakes I have made over the last 6 years. 

The first awesome cake I made was a frog. I threw a 6 month birthday party for Johnny. It was an amazing first shaped cake. Regrettably, I cannot find any pictures. I'm sure they are around, I have just misplaced the disk.

The second cake was for Johnny's first birthday. It was a Noah's Ark. I am also missing pictures of this cake, but that's alright. I had the cake all made, complete with a bowl of blue jello under the cake stand, when it started to fall apart. It was a 3D cake and I did not glue the layers together well en

In January of 2009, Larch turned 30. I cranked out these two awesome cakes:

Two thousand nine was the year I discovered Bunco and so threw myself a Bunco Birthday Party. We ate ice cream cake for months. But, if Johnny every wants a Transformers birthday party, I can always make an Allspark cake.

After the Noah's Ark catastrophe, I was a little wary on Johnny's second birthday. I was just not up to creating a cake that looked like Elmo. So, I put Sesame Street cut outs on a sheet cake.

In 2010, for Johnny's 3rd birthday I had my confidence back, and created a 3D racecar.

January 2011 I got to create my first girl cake. I constructed an amazing pink and purple castle. Unfortunatly, I am unable to locate any digital pictures of this cake.

Johnny decided his fourth birthday would be a dinosaur party and that he wanted a cake from the store. His loss.

Last year, for Lily's 2nd birthday I formed this adorable monkey.

Johnny's 5th birthday was all about camo, he got cupcakes with little green army men on top.

This year, after only 24 days, I have built my two best looking cakes yet. For all thier simplicity, you can tell my skill is increasing.

Lily requested a Frosty the Snowman party. With Christmas decor on clearance, this party was really inexpensive to put together. And the cake looked amazing, if I do say so myself.

Here's my January run down: My nephew Emmett was born Jan 8, Lily is the 16th, Larch, my mom, and my dad celebrate their birth on the 18th, my Nana was born on the 19th, and Joe was born on the 22nd. AND Casey Joe joined us this year at 1:22pm on 1/22. Yep, Joe got a baby for his birthday and I now have 8 birthdays to celebrate in two week time span.

With Larch and Joe's birthday's being so close together, and not as big a deal as the kids, we generally throw one event for the two of them. This year we went bowling followed by tacos and cake at my house. Since Larch and Joe are both into military aircraft, I spent three hours planning, cutting, and frosting this masterpiece:

I can't wait to hear what Johnny plans for his 6th Birthday. I am up for almost any challenge he can throw at me.

+

That pretty little boy is my daughter.

Lily's attempt at a one-sided mullet.

Monday morning I had a major melt down. I was tired, my kids weren't listening, it was time to walk out the door and my son couldn't find his shoes. Then he looked down and I saw a little bald patch on the top of his head. "Johnny, did you cut your hair?" I asked. "No, Lily did it," he replied. It took me a second to formulate a reaction. Johnny is 5, Lily is not quite three. "You're two year old sister cut your hair? You LET your TWO year old sister, cut your hair?"

His hair was an easy fix, we buzz his head about one a month anyways. A bald spot on his head at school for one day wouldn't hurt, there wasn't time to fix it right that minute. I threw my hands up and went to dig in the couch cushions for Lily's shoes. The couch was covered in hair. Long hair, darker than my son's. Lots of it.

I took a deep breath. Ok, it was more involuntary and gasp like. I fought tears and I turned around and grabbed my daughter's head. She had cut all the hair on the left side of her head off. Not a little choppy trim job. She had cut her hair almost to the scalp. My baby girl had given herself a half mullet.

Captain Lily waits for Storytime

I wanted to fix it right away, but I wasn't going to let anyone do it. I needed someone who could look at her hair and fix it in the cutest, most feminine, least redneck kind of way. I was taking her to MY hairdresser, not  Great Clips. But she didn't have an appointment open until today.

It actually worked out well. She was a pirate for Halloween and the choppy, messy look was just perfect.

This morning Lily got her professional hair cut. I was all for a pixie cut. Actually, my parents, sister, and husband were all for a pixie cut, I was holding out for a mullet so I could put the back in a ponytail with pink bows so she still looked like a girl when I went to Wal Mart. (Yep, I'm scoring big points on the redneck team today.)  Kim looked at Lily's handy work and we decided an asymmetrical cut would be a little more girly and easy to keep looking nice as long as we keep it trimmed every two to three weeks.

Shot side 

Head on

Long side

Lily still looks like a really pretty boy. Kinda. I guess we will be wearing lots of pink and dresses for a while. My daughter got an edgy haircut before she was three. What can I say, she's more fashion forward than her mom.

Part Time Single Mom, Full Time Failing Housewife

A couple of months ago, Larch went back to work. After being a framer/sider for the last ten or so years, he is now an apprentice electrician. I changed jobs too. Instead of just being a stay-at-home-mom, I am now a part time single mother. Larch's job takes him half a state away, so for three to four nights a week, it's just me and the kids.

I've learned a few things in the last two and a half months.

1--I do not envy my single parent friends. They do everything I do, plus hold down a job to pay for all the same bills, plus child care. AND they are either perpetually lonely, or they have to fit time into their already busy lives to date. Nope,I do not envy them, I have a whole new respect for them.

2--Sleeping alone sucks. Even though most of the time the kids sleep in bed with me, it's different. Instead of my ice cold feet searching for a warm spot on Larch's side of the bed, I am experiencing Lily's ice cold feet in the small of my back.

3--I cannot eat what my kids eat three times a day.  I need more variety than mac and cheese, corn dogs, chicken nuggets, and peanut butter sandwiches. Did you know that one cup of prepared kraft mac and cheese is around 400 calories! Add a hot dog and you've just used half your daily intake for lunch. EW!

4--Phone calls are not the same as good night kisses.

5--I do not miss grocery shopping with my kids. It takes twice as long to do a weeks worth of household shopping with two children in tow.

Now that I know I don't like being a single stay at home mom, the idea has gotten into Larch's head that I should go back to work part time. HA! I am willing to go, but I can't keep up on the housework being at home full time, I don't know how he expects me to keep a clean house, cook meals, and provide clean clothes if I go back to work. I supposed I could try, but I wouldn't put money on my ability to do both.

P.S. I hope to have something interesting to share next week. We are going on our first camping trip of the season this weekend. Please pray it doesn't rain.

P is for Park Politics

Some people in my town wants to take A large sum of taxpayer dollars to redo the park next to the library where my kids play after story time. This might not be a bad thing, except the plan will
take out thecentrally located boat launch and replace them with a giant water feature, a three level parking garage  a Grand Plaza courtyard to host markets and public art, and a walking path and steps down to the water. Our town is a tourist town built on a lake. It sounds like a great idea to take out the small beach the local's use and move the boat launch into a residential area. Let's let the out of towners with a sense of entitlement take over the beach we visit to get away from them.

They also want to take out the baseball field and put in a green pavilion, with a stage at its south end. a pavilion, Americans with Disability Act (ADA) compatible kids play land, and splash pad.They want to add more open green space, and tennis, pickle ball courts, a bocce ball field and skate park.Oh and an off-leash dog park

Some of these changes would be awesome. An ADA compatible play area for kids with a splash pad, yes please.  A pavillion with a stage, might be nice. A grand plaza would make traffic less confusing on Wednesday's with the farmers market. The  tennis and pickle ball courts, not so much, we have a community center and other parks for that. Let the adults go there, leave my son a place to play ball. The bocce ball field, might appeal to tourists, and some locals. I think horseshoe pits would get more use. And the skate park? We have one on the other side of downtown. I hate to stereotype, but I would rather not have teenaged punks and 20 something slackers hanging out right near the place my kids go to play.

Come of the people in my town are asking for you recall of the mayor and 4 out of 7 city council members. I was at the park in question last night and was shocked by the parents with a sign on their stroller saying decline to sign don't give into the recall. Didn't realize they're playing in the exact spot thier son would not be able to play baseball in 4 or 5 years from now?

In another type of politic's at the park, the other mothers at the park were looking at me something was wrong with me for letting my son play war or zombies. I calmly explained my 4-year-old that you can't play those games at the park because it scares the other mommies. I feel I have the right to mess up my kids however I see fit, don't judge me first-time-mom-who-hovers-so-close-her-kid-can't-go-down-the-slide-becasue-he-might-get-hurt. Lighten up a little. My kids are still alive, even if they have a few scars and bruises.

Ten Things Tuesday--O is for Occupational Hazards of Motherhood

1. Your hair, face, and clothes will get covered in bodily fluids, and possibly stuff you can't identify.

2. A Growing Waistline. This can be avoided, but don't ask me how.

3. Fatigue. The sleeplessness does not end when they start sleeping through the night, it just takes a vacation until nightmare season.

4. Inability to Concentrate. My theory is that they ate my brain while I was incubating.

5. You will experience the loss of a sex-life. The libido doesn't die, you just don't have the energy. Or time.

6. Your social life will change. I was gonna say suffer, but it just changes. Your friends are the other moms. You hang out while your kids play at the park. You don't really talk, you just drink your coffee on the same bench.

7. Modesty is not an option. From the moment you step into the delivery room, nothing about your body is safe. Just try to take a shower or go to the bathroom without company. I guess you could lock the door, but then they just scream.

8. Free Time. It does not exist.

9. Lack of Funds. Everything you make will get poured into your children. From diapers, to toys, to new shoes and clothes. And don't forget food.

10. Inexplicable Joy. Even when you are the angriest you have ever been, chances are they will do something to melt your heart and make you love life so much you can't imagine life without them.

M is for Mac and Cheese.

You know you are a mother of preschoolers when you eat one of three things for lunch every day: peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, chicken nuggets, or mac and cheese.

We eat a lot of mac and cheese in our house. Lily asks for it by name. Johnny wants hot dogs in his. I add either pepper or chili powder to mine, just to make it less bland. We buy the stuff in the blue box, but I also make mac and cheese from scratch on occasion.

When we make the blue box stuff, Johnny wants to help. In fact, he cries if I don't tell him it's time to add the butter, milk, and cheese powder. He wants to pour everything in and stir it all up. When I make the scratch kind, it means my niece is over.

I prefer the taste of the stuff I make with elbow noodles, milk, and melted Velveeta, but I love the speed and ease of making the stuff in the box.

What kind of mac and cheese do you make? How do you make it more palatable for your adult tastes?

G is for Grandparents

People who have living grandparents are some lucky people. All four of my grandparents are still alive, though my last great grandparent passed away when I was in junior high.  My children spend a good deal of time with my parents, their grandparents, and I know that they will have some wonderful memories to look back on. I have a number of memories of my own grandparents.

When I was in 3rd of 4th grade I was very into Felicity of the American Girls books. I wanted to have a afternoon tea party in a rose garden for my birthday.  Gramps, my paternal grandfather, had a beautiful rose garden in his back yard. The only problem was that roses don't bloom in April outside a greenhouse. I did what any girl would do. I postponed my birthday party for 2 months. We had tea and cake in the backyard by the roses. It was a "formal" party and all of my guests wore their Sunday dresses.  We played blind man's bluff in the front yard, it was very old fashion.

I had this Beauty and the Beast doll,
my sister had Cinderella and Prince Charming.
We both had Robin Hood and Maid Marion

Nana, my paternal grandmother, loved dolls. She collected porcelain dolls and had them all over her house.  She changed their clothes at Christmas as part of her decor.  She loved to take my sister and I to the Rosalie Whyel Doll Musuem in Bellevue. They had more than 300 dolls and toys on display. We always bought Peck-Gandre paper dolls in the gift shop after our visit. Those were some of my favorite paper dolls.  The doll museum closed in March of this year, which means I will never be able to take my own daughter there, but I still get to cherish the memories.

We called my paternal grandparents Grandma and Grandpa. When we were young they moved from the Seattle area to Albuquerque, NM. My sister and I used to spend 4-6 weeks there every summer until we were both past puberty. We would go visit the natural history museum, Old Town, and play Putt Putt Golf. Grandma and Grandpa live in a gated community with a pool. Last September, my grandpa turned 85 and there was a family reunion in celebration. My kids got to stay in the house I lived in a month every summer and play in the same pool. We went and visited the same places and played the same games.

I am older now and am gaining different memories of my grandparents. Memories of Grandpa holding my babies while sleeping in an easy chair, just has he held me and slept. Memories of Nana putting light pink lipstick on my two year old daughter. Gramps reading books to my children at Christmas time. I'm glad my children have 2 and a half sets of grandparents to create memories with.  Grandparents make childhood sweeter.

Eager for the Easter Bunny

Today, I turn 27. My son cares that it is my birthday for 3 reasons. One: I'm fairly certain he loves me. Two: there will be cake. And three: we are only a few days from Easter and the inevitable visit from the Easter Bunny.

Johnny has been telling me for two weeks everything he wants the Easter Bunny to bring him. He is certain that if I email his list to Mr. Bunny, he will have the best Easter basket ever. He also wants me to ask how he gets into our house. Does he come down the chimney like Santa Clause? And he tells me to ask if Mr. Bunny can hide the eggs outside this year.

I remember when I was still young enough to believe in a giant bunny who hid eggs all over our house. Every year we could count on a number of things in our Easter basket. My sister and I always received a movie (usually with a religious theme, like the TNT movies Jacob and Joseph), a book (also with a Christian bent), a Reese's Peanut Butter Egg, some sort of chap stick or lotion, and of course, jelly beans.  When I was 16, just after I obtained my drivers license, I received my favorite Easter Basket: candy, movie, book, and a set of my own keys to my parents Blazer.

The Easter Bunny will indeed arrive to our house in a few days. I can't wait. My kids will eat chocolate eggs and jelly beans for breakfast (saving the black ones for Grandmama). I will wrestle them into fancy clothes for church, where they will play off their sugar high in the nursery and 4-year-old class. I will try to instill in them the idea that Easter is not about eggs and a bunny, but about a savior who died, and an empty tomb. I will try to tie the Easter Bunny to this truth  the way we tie Santa to Jesus' birth. The Easter bunny leaves gifts to celebrate the gift of God's love. Maybe I will tell them that he hides eggs the way the Romans tried to hide Jesus's body behind a stone. Maybe I will tell them that when Mr. Bunny leaves, instead of "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night," he shouts "He is not here, He is risen!"

Ten Things Tuesday--Country Music, Parent style

Ten Country Songs, the toddler years.

1. Red Sippy Cup I thought I was so clever when I came up with this. I did not know someone had already recorded this parody. Actually, I found a number of them. This is my favorite. It's just audio with a radio station logo, but it's funny. You should take a listen.

2. Achey Breaky Back


3. Ring of Diapers


4. (Trike) Riders in the Sky


5. She's in Love with Her Toys


6. Friends in Play Places


7. Jesus, Fix This Meal


8. Strawberry Whine


9. Pool Water


10. El Paci

Icky Icky Cough Cough

This has not been a good week. I slept almost all day everyday. Until today, I felt better today. I have the yucky sinus infection accompanied by a chest cold that makes my throat feel like it needs chapstick.

The first day was cool. I slept until two, and then couldn't fall asleep that night but I only slept till 11 the next day. I read all day that day. I've finished two books this week and may finish another one by Sunday if my kids are nice to me. Yesterday, I again read and napped off and on all day, but Larch started to complain and resent that fact that I have done nothing this week. All the while, he acknowledge the fact that I had no voice until 2 or 3 in the afternoon with the help of on can chicken noodle soup and 5 or 6 cups of hot Tang. (Yes, I drink it hot when I'm sick. It's not bad, kinda yummy.) By the end of the day I had the tell tale migraine that said I hadn't had any caffeine in 3 days. Today, was better. I was up doing stuff, though still trying to cough my lung onto the floor. I did laundry, thought about writing a grocery list, took the kids to McDonald's, claimed my free prizes from a local car dealership (cheap binoculars I have given to my kids and a freshwater pearl necklace I horded for myself. I love pearls).

Now, as I get ready to bathe the kids and convince them to go to bed even though Daddy's not home from Uncle B's house yet, I feel another migraine coming. This one tells me that  Aunt Flo is coming to visit and I am about to spend three more days sleeping until noon, much to Larch's chagrin. Also, Lily isn't sleeping and she keep rubbing her eyes, I think her sinus' hurt. Johnny has a wildly running nose, but no cough yet. I think I have just given the icky icky cough coughs to my children. And possibly Larch, but he won't admit to being sick, unless he's dying. Here's to another hell week *raises wine glass full of Diet Dr. Pepper*

Daddies Garage Has What my Husband Wants.

I really want to have another baby. I love my two kids, but I think that just one more would make my family feel complete. Larch is ready to be done with diapers and potty training and baby things. We are not currently on birth-control, but we are not "trying" to conceive. I, being smart and yet not overly manipulative, have taken the high road and been praying for God to change Larch's heart. I have asked my Bible study group to pray that we will come to a place of unity on this life changing event. I should have known that God is not like Westley in Princess Bride, who answers all requests with "as you wish."

The last few days have been rough around our house. The kids cannot seem to go for more than 15 minutes without getting into major trouble. Not the "quit hitting your sister, share with your brother, please be quiet" type of trouble. No I'm talking about that kind of trouble that resulted in the first ever grounding of my 4 year old. The kind of trouble that makes you want to pull your hair out and lock the kids in the closet kind of trouble.  In an unusual turn of events, I have handled this better than Larch. Normally, I am the one to fly off the handle and just shut down because I can't take one more minute. This time though, I have remained mostly cool-headed and have just taken things in stride. Larch has turned into me. I finally called his brother and arranged a play-date, just so that Larch could have  a few hours when he didn't have to be my husband or the kids dad. I gave him a free pass to go drink with the boys.

We can add to the kids inability to behave, my drawing near to a total mental break. I think we may have passed the danger zone and avoid total collapse. However, there has been tension between Larch and I, and as I discussed in my last post, my brain does not process his words or motivations correctly. I am losing my confidence in my ability to be a wife and mother. I am starting to doubt that I have made any progress on the road to recovery. (This is something I know to be untrue in my clear moments; I am getting better in some areas and I am discovering new problems in others.)

Back to my prayers.  I am in rebellion right now. I get the feeling that perhaps God is telling me that he is not going to change Larch's mind yet.  Perhaps, He is trying to tell me, that I am not as ready as I think I am. That while He may or may not have more children in our future, now is not the time. I don't like this idea. I want another baby. I might even tell you I NEED another baby. Maybe I just want to be pregnant so that I don't feel so bad about the fact that I no longer fit into 89% of my clothing.

Don't tell Larch I'm thinking these thoughts. It's more fun to joke about the next baby while he laughs at me and then we just kinda roll our eyes at each other. Surprisingly, my wanting a baby and his not is the thing we have the least tension over right now. It keeps things light.

My Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day

I will start by saying I love my kids and would never harm them no matter what I say in the next few paragraphs.

Sundays are normally relaxing, pleasant days around our house.  Football, baseball, or NASCAR plays on the TV, I sit in my chair crocheting or playing Angry Birds, the kids play with their toys or chase each other through the house. Sometimes we have family over and we talk and drink and generally have fun--or recover from the night before. This week, there was no football and NASCAR doesn't start till next week.  Somehow, between that and the house being uncharacteristically clean, the kids were lost. I put them upstairs to watch The Lion King (Lily's current favorite movie), and sat down to work on some future blog posts. BAD IDEA.

I went to the kitchen to get a snack and smelled nail polish. With fear and trembling I went upstairs. When I got to the top of the stairs, the kids were the ones experiencing fear and trembling.  I had finally learned to put all my makeup and hair gear in my latched makeup case.  Lily, who is fascinated with makeup, is not old enough or strong enough to open the latch. Despite this fact, my makeup case was open, everything was uncapped and spread all over. The air reeked of Moroccan hair oil, hairspray and nail polish. Johnny's eyes were as wide as saucers. He knew he was in trouble. I was livid.

Johnny admitted to opening the case for Lily. And to helping make the mess. He had painted his entire hands with nail polish, helped to cover my folding chair with lipstick and who knows what else. I swore loudly and marched Johnny out to the shop to work off the $30 of products he had helped to destroy: three lipsticks, a brand new foundation, and entire bottle of Moroccan oil, two bottles of nail polish, half a jar of face powder, and three tubes of lip gloss. I then went upstairs to clean up.

It took me 30 minutes to clean it all up. Johnny was told if he touched anything on my makeup table again he would not be allowed to go to his 100 days of school party Monday, and that if Lily touched anything he was to come and get me immediately. I went outside to smoke a cigarette (yes, yes, I have quit, but sometimes you just need one) and cool down. I was finally ready to face my kids, so Larch and I came inside.

I walked into the kitchen, covered my eyes and said "Larch, you deal with this, you just take this one, I'm done."

Both kids were sitting on the counter. The kitchen floor was covered in 2 or 3 banana peels and a dozen (yes a whole dozen, count them 12) broken eggs. Johnny said Lily threw all the eggs. I believe him. The last time he threw eggs, I threatened to hurt him, then we drove to grandmas, and I started treatment for my BPD.

Larch is so awesome. He set the kids in timeout (Johnny paused on his way to timeout to ask me why I was crying), cleaned up the eggs, and allowed me to order pizza instead of cooking. I could not have asked for a more understanding husband. With a smile on his face, he even asked after the makeup incident if I was going to kill the kids.  And laughed when I answered "No. I want to, but I won't."

Don't Spit in the Peanut Butter

I'm starting something new this week. 10 Things Tuesdays. I really like making lists, so I'm gonna share them with you, 10 items at a time.
First up, 10 things I never thought I would ever say to my kids.

"Don't spit in the peanut butter jar."

"Don't drink the mustard."
"Yes, you have to. Everyone must wear pants at the dinner table."
"Don't bite the cat."
"You cannot have a peanut butter and syrup sandwich for breakfast. Or lunch. Or ever."
"I can't pull over right now. Your choices are to pee in a cup or pee in your pants" (for the record, he peed in the cup).
"No you can't help me shave my legs"
"That's not candy, it's toilet cleaner. Don't eat things from the bathroom." (Poison control says in small amounts Scrubbing Bubbles toilet bowl stamps are not harmful in small quantities, but don't let Lily eat anymore).
" Ohh my god, the cat peed on Lily's head" (said cat is no longer allowed inside over night).
"No you can't play x box, mommy's watching sesame street."
And a bonus for week one.
" I promise the bird poop missed your head."
What about you? What has come forth from your mouth that you never would have ever pictured yourself saying.

Giant Vulture Poop!

I was on twitter and came upon this tweet
If a bird shits on your head, you're lucky. If a human does it, you're a German porn star. -- PaxPaxochka (@Paxochka)
I found this very amusing. Partly, because I am not a lady like my mother tried to raise me into. And partly, because it made me think of my son.
Last September,Johnny, Lily and I went to New Mexico for my grandpa's 85th birthday party/family reunion. So much fun.
Because here, in North Idaho, the closest zoo is 8 hours away, I took advantage of the Albuquerque zoo and took my children to see all the animals.
We were in the birds of prey section, there was this bridge. The large vultures were able to perch on branches above the bridge. It was obvious you needed to cross with caution from all the bird poop on the ground. Just as my mother and I commented on this, one of the giant vultures dropped a turd 2 inches from Johnny.
I wish I could have gotten a picture of the look on Johnny's face. I have never seen him so freaked out. I don't have a picture because I chose that moment to be a good mom and reassure him. It took 2 or 3 minutes to convince him the poo did not land on his head.
They might say, if a bird pooped on your head you're lucky, but I am so glad this one missed.

Best Date Ever

I am almost ashamed to admit my best date ever was not with my husband. It was with my 4 year old son, Johnny.
Today started out as a lazy Sunday. Larch and I laid in bed watching PBS while the kids played on the floor. Then I got the phone call.
We had not seen my son's best friend, C, since his birthday before Thanksgiving. His mother called to initiate a playdate. Within 20 minutes my son and I were both dressed, my make up was on, and we were out the door. The boys played for an hour and a half before we finally went out to lunch. The plan from there was to meet at the skating rink for birthday party. It turns out the mother of the birthday boy moved the party and didn't tell his dad. I personally find this an overly bitchy thing to do. C and his mother ended up going home to take a nap, but Johnny and I stayed to skate for about 45 minutes.
Johnny had never skated before. So I got teach him how to skate. We made it all the way around the rink 1 time. After that, he wanted to go in the little kid area so he could practice. Finally got the confidence up to skate without holding my hand. He did absolutely amazing for a 4 year old. I am so proud of him
We played in the arcade for a while where he won 50 tickets. We came home with 2 spider rings and 2 miniature plastic jets.
Then he went with me to the grocery store where he decided we were going to have corn dogs for dinner. I had 1 dollar in cash in my pocket so we also bought a scratch ticket. She was so excited to watch me scratch it. We won 6 dollars so we cashed in and bought another 5 dollar card. When we got home and scratched that one we won 12 dollars.

I told Larch, I haven't had that much fun on a date since before we were married.

Bloody Babies

This is what transpired at the coffee stand window while waiting for my latte:
Johnny: Mom mumble mumble baby Emmett mumble out?
Me: What Johnny?
Johnny: Was there mumble mumble baby Emmett?
I turn off the engine.a
Me: What did you say?
Johnny: Ws there blood when baby Emmett came out?
Me: Um....Yes?

Pregnant pause.
Me: Why?
Johnny: Because in that 1 movie-
Me: Wait what movie? ( I cannot think of a single movie Johnny would have seen that had babies being born in it).
Johnny: you know, at the beginning of your sword games the baby has blood on it.
Me: Oh you mean assassins creed. Yes. Yes, there's blood when babies come out, but it's okay it's just a little bit.
I lied to my son. There is a lot of blood. But that's not my point. This question was out of nowhere and I wasn't really ready. At least he didn't ask how baby Emmett got into Aunt B's tummy. ( The correct answer when speaking to a 4 year old is because God put him there).

Snow Day

January 18 is the official snow day of the Thornton Family.  I married Larch Thanksgiving weekend in  2006. January 18, 2007 we moved into our new house as it snowed for 3 days. There was something like 12-18 inches on the ground.  January 18, 2008 we got 24 inches overnight.  in 2009 I think we only gotr between 6 and 8 inches, but it still snowed.  In 2010 I prayed for a miracle. Lily was due January 23 and I didn't want to go into labor in the middle of a blizzard.  We brought her home from the hospital in a light dusting of snow.  Last year, Mother Nature decided to play a joke on us as we have maybe 6 inches of snow all winter. But I'm almost certain at least some of that was on January 18.

Now it's January 17, 2012.  It started snowing yesterday at 8pm.  It hasn't stopped yet. It's almost 3:30 in the afternoon and we already have 5 inches of snow.  There is a winter storm warning in effect until Thursday, the 19th at 4pm.  The forecast calls for snow until Sunday.

I really kinda hate snow. I hate driving in it. I hate shoveling it (though it is good exercise). I hate how it's cold and wet and makes my floors cold and wet.  I also love snow. It's really pretty until my kids play in it. Then it's cool because my kids love playing in it. I don't like to play in the snow so much, but snowball fights with Johnny sure are fun. And the pictures I take are adorable. January 18 is the best day of the whole winter.

Brea

PS Happy Birthday to my husband, Larch, and to my Mom and Dad. They get snow for their birthday every year on the 18th of January.

PPS Yes they all share a birthday. My parents are 12 hours apart.  My husband is then 18 years younger than they are exactly.  Sure is easy to remember.

PPS Though she won't read this, Happy Birthday also to Nana.  She has a birthday on the 19th. I don't know how old she is. She always says "As old as my gums and a little bit older than my teeth."

5 inches as of 3:30

This is what I see out my bedroom window when I fall asleep. Except darker, and lit by the moon.