The Beach (progress!!!)

Remember last spring how I took the kids to the beach? Remember how Christopher HATED it? How he refused to leave the safety of his towel lest he get sand between his toes, or worse, get anywhere near that giant body of water?

Well, just six months later we found ourselves headed back to California for the weekend to see John's cousin and attend her missionary farewell. With a little bit of time on our hands (and even less money) we figured the beach would be a good way to kill an hour or two.

The older three were excited, Zach reminded John to bring the boogie boards, because "mom forgot them last time".

When I asked Christopher if he wanted to go to the beach, he said "No! I go play doctor." Which, given the fact that he got no less than five shots at his last appointment only a few weeks ago, says alot about how he feels about the beach.

The older three naturally had a lot of fun. Nick body surfed until he puked (literally) and Zach and Maddie played on the boogie boards until we dragged them out.

Neither Christopher or I even bothered to put on our swimsuits. I figured it was a waste of time. (I wasn't wrong) Christopher started off really cautious, and after we destroyed an abandoned sand castle,

we made our way down to the water to play in the itty bitty waves. We'd see if it would get our toes, and then scream like maniacs when it did. My throat hurt when it was time to go (from all the screaming) BUT Christopher willingly got wet.

I can't tell you how it does this mother's heart good to see things like that. Just six months ago he was totally freaked out, anxiety riddled, OCD about sand on his feet, barely tolerating our little excursion, and this time he had fun. Real, honest to goodness fun. The sand bothered him a little, but he didn't let it stop him. He smiled, and played, and laughed, and screamed with delight.

Guest postings

I've mentioned before that I am really enjoying Zach's essays he is writing in school, and really want to share them with people, but am not sure my blog is the place to do it.

As I was reading his latest and chuckling to myself, I was wondering the odds of getting him to re-write them and post them on his blog.

Not likely.

So I decided for posterity's sake, I am going to step in and post some of his essays on his blog.

He already did the hard work. I'm just gonna type it in for the grandparents to read. (and his future kids)

So feel free to check them out.

(He is also really excited about me taking pictures of his latest Lego projects so he can post them on his blog as he creates them.)

35 by 35

Normally I tell people I'm only 24 - and I am I going to be 24 forever (I gave my birthday to Madison since she was born on my 24th birthday) but technically speaking, this December it will be 35 years since the day I was born.

With that in mind, and the fact that I've thrown a good chunk of all the hard work I did losing weight last spring down the toilet, I decided I reasonable goal would be to lose 35 lbs by my 35th birthday. (Naturally I am starting at the weight I was last year on my birthday, so really I'm only looking at 16 more)

So 16 pounds in 2 1/2 months.

I think it's doable.

Wish me luck- I'm gonna need it. With no real weigh-ins to motivate me, it's a little easier to justify lunch with the girls, this "last piece of chocolate", skipping a workout cause I have a headache/am too busy/lazy/etc.

I did go workout this morning, but it was extra intense, and now my arms are waging a strike against me. I even have to stop and take breaks between sentences because lifting my arms to type makes my shoulders scream.

I'm thankful for awesome neighbors

When I was in the second grade my dad lost his job, but was able to find another in Wisconsin. (We lived in Utah) We put the house up for sale, and my dad moved off to the other side of the world (it might as well have been) for almost a year. Back then there were no cell phones with free long distance, no texting, no e-mail, no skype. We got to talk to him on the phone for very brief moments every once in awhile, and send him letters. (the paper and postage kind)

I missed my dad but remember being grateful for our neighbors. The Breton's lived next door and were some of the best neighbors we could ask for. I remember he was always happy and willing to help out whenever we needed help. Fixing bikes, etc. I missed my dad, but was comforted with the thought that help was still there when we needed it.

(the house never sold,-the housing market was bad then too, and eventually my dad found a new job in Utah, so we never ended up moving to Wisconsin)

Fast forward 20+ or so years to last night-

To clarify, usually our garage is so full of junk that I have to carefully pull into my allotted spot, but ever since John cleaned out a good chunk of it, I've not been so careful about staying on my side of the line.

That's why when Zach got in the car last night to go to cub scouts (his first ever pack meeting, and where he would earn his first rank advancement- the bobcat ), he didn't notice the red pull cord that hangs from the garage door light get caught in the car door. This particular pull cord is what you use to switch from the manual setting (you know-old school-lifting the garage door with your bare hands) to automatic (the button on the wall or the remote in the car)

The end result was that the garage door started coming down as I was pulling out, scratching the top of my suburban, knocking the garage door of the tracks, and denting the garage door all to hell.

Meanwhile I am stuck in my garage with an 8 year old boy freaking out because he is afraid he will miss the awards ceremony, and people who are depending on me to be there. (remember I'm a leader?)

Naturally John is out of town, and we only have the one car anyway. (oh, hi John. sorry about the garage. I love you. Ü)

Enter our next door neighbor Mike to save the day.

His son was outside playing, saw the wreckage and said "I'll go get my dad!" and ran off home.

Within minutes Mike was over, surveying the wreckage, reattaching the wheel that popped off, using a mallet to bang the door back into shape, fitting it back into the tracks, reattaching it to the chain so it can remotely go up and down (at this point I would have been overjoyed with only manual usage), and in essence, saving the day.

That's the "after" photo- I don't have any "befores" . Taking pictures for the blog was the last thing on my mind.

I'm also thinking a thank-you pie is in order.

Franchise Opportunities Available

I'm in love with a store.

It's this incredibly cute little store that sells the most delish cookies. And chocolate. And candies. I'm mostly in love with the cookies at that store though.

They are these ridiculously priced little bits of baked goodness with the most perfect fillings.

Raspberry... orange... lemon... chocolate. (to name a few)

We found this place in Brugges, Belgium, and the store front drew me in immediately. (okay so maybe it doesn't look that impressive in the picture, but one peek inside a window was enough for me)

The cookies didn't look that spectacular, but when we were offered a sample, I was totally hooked.

I bought half a dozen. Then when we were in Brussels the next day and we ran across the same store, I bought more. (cause I already ate the others) They must have some sort of addictive substance in them because when John was headed back that way on his last trip, all I wanted from him was "The Biggest" tin of cookies.

Ask him, and he'll tell you how he "nearly died" to fulfill my single wish.

I looked up the company on-line, and apparently they are a franchised company! Unfortunately there are none here in the states. :(

I'd like to change that.

Unfortunately, I don't think Gilbert, AZ is the right place.

To begin with, the cookies were a little pricey in Europe. They are manufactured in some factory in France, and shipped to the different stores. So, to get a store over here, you have to add shipping charges to the cost and then there's that whole Euro-dollar conversion thing. So the right location would be essential. Like NYC or some place where there are tons of tourists and people are more willing to pay ridiculous prices for something they can't get at home.

Seriously- look at these tins. Aren't they the cutest? And I'm not a "tin person" but I love these.

Are realize that NYC isn't exactly in my back yard, but I figure that the odds are greater that I might make it back to NYC in the future, or that someone I know would be willing to bring me back some cookies. (I'd pay of course)

So, if I've peaked any one's interest and they want to throw everything to the wind and start their lives over as a shop owner in NYC- I have the perfect proposition for you. Here's the link to their website. (in English)

Here's another blog (with a bunch more pictures) I found on the same subject. (seriously- check it out)

PS- the subject of how they get the filling into the cookie is killing me! The cookies look piped, you know like with a giant piping bag onto the cookie sheet, but there is this perfect little center of filling, and I have no idea how it got there!

Our blog book -the 2009 edition

Ever since I published all my blogs from the year 2008 in a book, my family has been on my case about publishing 2009.

They have loved having it in the house. Looking at the pictures, reading the stories, taking a stroll down memory lane....

2009 finally arrived on our doorstep yesterday.

(I think the best part is that Nick has been on the computer all day on his own blog, because in 2009 all the kids were a bunch of slackers and contributed very little to their blogs and want to see more of their own stories in print next year.)

PS- I have deleted and re-uploaded that picture a half a dozen times!! I have no idea why it is sideways. I CANNOT get it to go right-side up!

The big ward campout.

In the end, I decided we should go camping. I decided I was sick of letting John's absence be the reason. "I'm sorry kids, your dad isn't here. Maybe next year..." It isn't fair to the kids, and it isn't fair to John to always be the reason why not.

And then I thought about what kind of an example I am setting for my own daughter. What message am I sending her? I can't set up a tent because I'm a girl?!?!

Yes, it's a lot of work. Planning, shopping, preparing, packing... and camping isn't something I'm entirely comfortable with. We just don't do it very much.

But it's not as if we'd really be alone. Maybe I will have trouble with the tent. So what? I had no doubts that help would be there if I needed it. (and we did. I forgot the hammer, and couldn't get the stakes in the ground. A friend's husband stopped on by to see if we needed anything and just happened to have a hammer with him...)

And my kids are getting older. Nick is an experienced Boy Scout. He's almost earned his camping merit badge.

AND my friend Chelsa volunteered to come along and be mommy #2 to my kids. Another Adult. A second set of eyes. A second set of hands. I forgot a flashlight. She remembered. (Nick had one too). While Nick was setting up the "boy tent", she figured out how to set up the "girl tent" (and in the dark too!) And she was the cool grown up who brought glow bracelets for the kids to wear.

We left a little later than I hoped and got there after dark. Instead of making our own campfire, we cooked our tin-foil dinners in the big group fire. Sausage, potatoes, onions, bell peppers... The bishop asked me to make one for him next time. Also I brought cookies to share with the ward. I was told that my kids are quite the little promoters. I heard stories of Nick saying things like "don't waste your calories on those cookies. You should try my mom's."

It was fun. I'm glad we went. The kids seemed to have a good time. They ran around and got dirty. They played with friends, roasted marshmallows, ate pancakes for breakfast, and played games. Zach went on a hike the next morning with a group of other kids (and an adult) while we took down the tents.

And then after we got home, after everyone was showered, but before I single load of laundry was done, I took a three hour nap on the couch.

First day of pre-school (again)

Christopher officially started pre-school yesterday in the school district's Amanecer pre-school program.

I'm excited. He needs this. It will be good for him.

I kept him home with me as long as I could, probably longer than I should, but it was time.

Besides, just think of the time I would have to myself!

At the beginning of the school year he was attending a pre-school in someone's home. 2 hours a day, 3 days a week. 6 hours a week of pre-school. 6 hours to myself to do with whatever I wanted. Minus the drive time. 15 minutes each way, twice a day, so really that precious time to do with whatever I wanted was cut to about an hour and a half.

Still! 4 1/2 hours a week!

But with Amanecer, it gets even better ! Two and a half hours each day, 4 days a week equals 10 whole hours a week to myself! PLUS, I am having him take the bus. He's not on the bus schedule yet, but I figure if the bus only picks him up 15 minutes before and drops him off 15 minutes after, that gives me an extra 2 hours a week! 12 hours to myself. 12 hours to run errands, mop my floors, go to lunch with friends, clean out closets, blog, scrapbook, read, you name it.

PLUS he loves pre-school. I can't even say the word until 5 minutes before it's time to leave because he will want to go the second it's mentioned.

AND he's going to get the extra help he needs. Speech therapy, occupational therapy... (potty training encouragement?)

Win-win-win. Right?

So how come when I dropped him off yesterday, even though he'd already been going to another pre-school for a month, I had to fight back the tears? I mean seriously, I was on the verge of an ugly-cry right there in the parking lot. ( I didn't have time for an ugly cry- I had plans. Plans which included mopping my kitchen, but I still didn't have time for an emotional break down. )

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that because his last pre-school was in someone's home, and my subconscious could rationalize that it was more like a structured play date, (one I had to pay for, but still) and then seeing him line up against the wall with all those other kids wearing his little back pack watching me drive away, and it just felt so formal, so institutional, so real.

I thought it was going to be easy. I thought I would just drop him off and then skip on home.

You know, it's really annoying to get blind-sided by feelings.

Thanks Chelsa!

I love a good book!

Every school morning...

Without fail,

As the bigger kids are walking out the door,

Christopher runs to his room,

climbs on Zach's bed,

and waves good bye to his big brothers and sister.

"Bye Nick!" "Bye Maddie!" "Bye Zach!" he'd call to them as they walked away.

For the longest time they didn't even know he did that, and his little voice would go unanswered.

Of course now they love it. "Go to the window! Go to the window!"

(and I have to confess that even as I write this, I am wondering has that ever happened to me? Have a just driven off some days completely clueless to the fact that a little boy is sitting alone in a window calling after me, "Bye, mom!")

To camp, or not to camp. That is the question.

I have about 4 1/2 days to answer this question.

It's our ward campout this Friday night.

It should be fun. My kids would LOVE it.

But-

John is in Italy. (Who? Jealous? Me? No way.)

And I am not sure I want to do it alone.

What to do? What to do?

On the one hand, I am the mom of a Boy Scout. Who SHOULD be pretty good at setting up tents and lighting fires and all that. (I say should because I don't usually go with him, but he comes back in one piece with a big smile, so I'm making that assumption)

On the other hand, I'm kinda out of my element when it comes to camping. I used to camp as a kid, but haven't really slept out of doors in YEARS. With the exception of the occasional campout with my dad- but he's running the show. This time I would be in charge. THE grownup. If someone forgets the marshmallows or the sleeping bags, I'm the one to blame. That's a lot of pressure.

And on the other hand, I did take the kids to Disneyland all by myself. (that's pretty gutsy, right?) John's schedule is so unpredictable and it is hard to make plans, and I don't want my kids growing up without these experiences because "Sorry, we can't do that. Your dad is out of town."

And on the other hand- I hate sleeping on the ground. Doesn't matter how many pads I have, it's not the same, and my back is killing me by morning.

So folks, any thoughts on the matter? What would you do?

Deprive your kids of a chance to escape the heat, run around in the dirt, and have fun with their neighbors and ward members?

Or stay home and sleep in your very own comfy bed?

Nick told his class at church today that he wasn't going. "My dad's out of town, and my mother would have to be a Saint to take us..."

Better late than never

I had meant to write about this quite awhile ago.

I think I had been feeling bad that I had been focusing a little too much on the not-so-pleasant aspects of parenting in regards to this blog. The messes, the frustrations, the irritations...

and then one day, I looked up and could not have been more pleased with what I saw.

At that exact moment Madison was helping with the dishes without complaint,

Zach offered to make Christopher a sandwich,

And Nick was in the living room happily dusting the blinds and the dust bunnies off the furniture and saying things like. "You should make dusting part of my weekly chores." (For reals, I kid you not, that was his suggestion)

So I grabbed my camera, snapped a few pictures to remind myself they really are great kids, and started blogging in my head,

But all that was forgotten when amazingly enough ALL THREE of them were sent to their rooms fifteen minutes later. (for what I can't remember- fighting and screaming at each other probably)

It's amazing how fast my home went from Heaven On Earth to You Know Where.

I just found those pictures again, and figured they still deserved a little moment of glory. (It's good to encourage that sort of behavior- positive reinforcement and all)

Happy Birthday Daddy!

daddy I miss you so much oh and I am really sorry that you ripped your pants. this must be the worst b-day ever. I am so sorry! I wish I could be there there to make it better love ya. and I miss ya love maddie.Hi dad i hope that you have a better birthday and a good rest of the trip. i cant wait to see you and i love you lots and lots. love nick

Hi Dad are you having fun . I really miss you. I hope you are having lots and lots of fun. We all miss you. Love Zach

Christopher sends you a virtual high-five, and wants to "go play Boston" with you.

Happy Birthday! We love you and miss you.

The ugly, and very painful truth.

My closet is an embarrassment. And lately a safety hazard.

For quite awhile now, my solution has been to just shut the door. Out of sight, out of mind. If I can't see it, it doesn't exist. Sometimes I walk in there with the plan of working on it, get overwhelmed, and decide that mopping my kitchen, or cleaning toilets, or catching up on my DVR'd shows, or updating my blog is much more important at that moment and I'll get to it later.

Of course like any problem, it didn't get that way over night. Clothes that are too little for their current owners go in there to be sorted (donate, trash, save for sibling), bags full of school supplies (cause who can resist crayons for a quarter? And notebooks for fifteen cents?) with no place to go they end up on the floor, seasonal house decor with no other home when not being displayed find themselves on an already over crowded shelf, and getting regularly knocked to the ground, pictures, magazines I want to save, scrapbooking materials, craft supplies, gift wrap...

So why am I confessing to all this now?

Cause I stinking lost my balance and nearly fell, but ended up stepping on something hard and painful and bruised my foot. I can only wear the flattest of flip flops today. (Any thing with arch support makes me want to cry)

So, it's time.

I need to do something about that dratted closet.

Clean, sort, get rid of, organize...

Figure out new storage solutions. Do you see all that wasted space along the wall? Anyone have any really cheap and easy (meaning even I can do it) ideas? Seriously- any ideas would be appreciated. Bueller?

Besides hoping for ideas, I am coming clean and hoping the accountability and humiliation factors will motivate me. (please feel free to mock my slovenly ways)

Hopefully soon, I will have "after" pictures.

But not today. Today I am using my excuse that this is not the sort of project I can tackle with a four year old helper.

Oh and PS- That's just my side. There's a reason Christopher chose John's side to make his "nest".