Dropping a Bomb

I've got something to tell you.  I haven't been wanting to write this post, because I really don't want to alarm anyone.  But I am just going to say it like it is.

I am dying.

I began dying the minute I was born.  You see, I was born with a fatal condition.  They call it aging. 

I know- I know- you totally just cringed there.  Well- yes it's true.  I'm sorry you all had to find out like this.  This condition is 100 percent FATAL.  If something else doesn't kill me first, my condition will, with no exception end up killing me.  This is a particularly hard year for me.  I'm getting more and more aged as the years go by.  This year will be rough as I reach 30.

Yes, time and modern medicine have helped tremendously.  In fact- people with this condition are living longer now than ever before.  But there is no cure. 

Please don't shed any tears for me.  But you are welcome to bring me gifts.  Flowers to brighten my mood, chocolate for my soul (cadbury eggs are the best!), organizational bins from IKEA.  You know- that sort of thing. 

Well wish me luck as I say good-bye to my 20's and venture into my 30's (this month)... 
Uncertainly.

(And in case you were wondering- Yes I AM making kissy faces to the camera while driving on the freeway with 4 children in the car.  I deserve a mother of the year award.)

The Mommy Blahs

I have had a bad case of what I will just call the "mommy blahs" lately. You know, it's the mommy mode 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I am actually doing better the last couple of days, but cabin fever has totally settled in, and we are trying to banish it.  I hope the weather stays fairly decent, because the kids and I are finally starting to venture out.  We are yelling at winter, "You can't keep us in anymore!  We're not afraid of you!"  
Ha!
Take that!
I will get out to start planting soon. 
Strawberries (lots of these)
Fruit trees
Cold garden things like peas and spinach. 
You should too.  Do obnoxious things like wear flip-flops and no jacket.  That'll sure show winter that we don't want it back anytime soon!

Just some pics of the kiddos and me.

Peace

Meteor

The girl announced loudly to me today that she is "METEOR". 
"You are meteor?" I ask just to be sure I heard her correct.
"Yes, mom," shooting a look at me like I am not so bright. 
"You know, like "the boy" is biggest, I am meteor, and "the small" boy is smallest... Oh and the "smaller boy" is the smallest too.  But I am METEOR."
So that was cleared right up!  She is so adorable. 

By the way she did she the boy's names, just in case you were wondering.  But I can't post them here.  I know I have way too many blogstalkers.  Ha ha ha.  Just kidding. 

DIY

Oh My Gosh!!!!!  I am totally addicted to DIY blogs.  I stumbled upon one the other day and she had links to a bunch of others.  I was ecstatic to find people that were totally as cheap as I am.  And they have cute homes and the stuff they do... oh okay so I put some links in the right column of my blog.  So check 'em out if you want to. 

But be forewarned. You may need a few hours.  I know I have already got a few projects lined up for myself.  You know- in like 5 years when I finally have some free-time again.  No but seriously. 

Okay remember about my new blog.  Keep checking it out so I feel like it's worthwile.  I guess I will have to keep putting in plugs for it every so often.  Here is the link to it.

Peace Out everyone.

My New Blog

Hey so this blog is so popular (ha) that I decided to start a new one too. I'm totally kidding about this blog being popular though. But hopefully you'll check out my new one and keep tabs on it too. I was hoping that it would help me to feel like I'm using valuable skills I have. The skills other than the ones that require one to change poopy diapers with 3 wipes or less. Or making 4 lunch sandwhiches in less than 5 minutes. You know other than those wicked mothering skills I have... Anyway just check it out and let me know what you think. I am pretty excited about it. Okay here is the link...
and also I will have it in the right hand column of this blog so you can always find it easy.  Wish me luck.

Me vs. The flu

Tiredness
Achy body
Fever
Tiredness
Chills
Headache
Oh so tired!
Sinus congestion
Sneezing
Did I mention how tired I was?
I think the flu is winning.
Wish me luck.

Arriba Arriba Run Away!

The boy: "Mom- do bad guys speak spanish?"

Me: "Well... some do."

The boy: "Oh- but not a lot of them right, just a few?"

Me: "I'm not sure how many bad guys speak spanish."

The boy: "Well not a lot of them. Cuz if you see a bad guy and talk spanish to them, then they will turn around and run away."

Oooooooooooooooooh- okay it's so much CLEARER now. We should alert the cops! I'm sure lucky I have these kids around- 'splainin' stuff to me. Gotta love 'em!

Murphy

The girl has this stuffed dog named Murphy. She is rarely seen without her (yes-Murphy is a girl puppy). The girl takes her everywhere! Murphy is the girls best friend. At breakfast time Murphy has to sit right next to the girls breakfast, and the girl occasionally "throws her some scraps" (pretends to feed her). The other day as Murphy was sitting at the breakfast counter, the smaller boy spilled his milk and Murphy was soaked. So I went and threw Murphey in the wash.

Then a friend called and invited us to go do something fun. So as we were about ready to leave, the girl was searching frantically and finally says, "Mom- where is Murphy?"

"Oh- she is in the wash. Remember all the milk that was spilled on her?" I explained.

I saw Molly- another stuffed animal very similar to Murphy. "Honey, why don't you take Molly this time instead," I tried? She then gave me the most incredulous look, like I was the stupidest person in the world, and says,

"Uh-mom... Molly is a TOY!"

Oh so cute. My girl has a REAL toy.
Here is my fav. quote about becoming real from "The Velveteen Rabbit" by Margery Williams to explain:

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

This is Murphy ^^

This is Molly ^^

CHUBBA-BUB

Well I hope everybody had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. We certainly did. Thanks to our friends who hung out with us on New Years Eve. We had a blast. I just wanted to post a few pics of my Chubby-bubby. This is the smallest boy- although I am thinking that this name might not be the most appropriate for him now. He is for sure the youngest, but he is giving the smallER boy a run for his money on who now is the smallest. Just look at these rolls! Have you ever seen a baby so big before? We totally love it. I am definitely in love with each and every one of his rolls. He is so happy and smiley. We all just adore him. Especially the girl.

Okay here are some pics of Christmas, New Years, and others... in no particular order.

Isn't he so HOT?

It's a little late, but the Man's birthday was the day after Christmas. I want him to know how much I love him. But that is another post entirely. Hopefully one to come soon. Love you babe!

Something Quirky

Let me just tell you that some days start out bad. Right from the moment you roll out of bed. On days like these someone usually ends up in time out-before we've even been awake for 15 minutes. I'm trying to sheild you from the truth that I usually end up yelling pretty darn quick after I wake up.
Some days.
Not all the time.
I will tell you something unusual about me. I have a pair of shoes that I love. And for some strange reason they put me in a better mood. They are not beautiful, or sexy, or even particularly colorful. But when I decide what to wear and realize that my favorite shoes will match, my heart does a little flutter, and everything seems (for a split-second anyway) like it's going to be okay. It's kind of like a sigh of relief.
Why? You ask. I have no FLIPPEN clue. But who cares. It just works! So for really bad days, you know the ones that when you find your darling 4-year old girl has just scratched up the wood on your headboard of your wooden black bed-frame, just a few short days after she scratched up the new table, I say-
It's okay. I've got my Merrells.

New House

Here are a few pics of the new house. I'll post more when I get aroun to it. We are really loving it. It really is a great house. This is the front door and the steps to the basement.

Front room. Isn't the flooring great?

Front room different angle. (From the front door)

Kitchen (obviously)

Family room downstairs.

Something New and My Dear Santa Letter

Yesterday the man and I got a new table! I was/am so excited. I have been looking for months for just the right one. I have been pretty much living a hand-me-down life for the past 10 years. I have had all hand-me down furniture because we do not like to go in debt for things like that. Well we have finally decided that we could work a new dining set into the budget. I finally got to pick out something for myself! Here is a picture of the beautiful table we got...

and a couple of how the table looks now, after meeting my children less than 24 hours after putting it up.

I have to always remind myself how much I love my children, and that they are just on loan to me from God. My kids are more important than a brand new table right? Sigh. Oh well. I really can never have anything new.

Here is my letter to santa this year. I would love to take the credit for writing it, but I did not. Someone e-mailed it to me (thanks mom). But I am putting my name in the "from" part and sending it off asap! I had to change a few things to fit my number of kids, but I didn't make too many changes, because it seemed to be written just as I would have written it, the exact things I want. So here it is...

Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my four children on demand, visited their doctor's office more than my good friends, sold sixty-two cases of candybars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground and figured out how to attach nine patches onto my daughters girl scout sash with staples and a glue gun.

I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years.

Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache after a day of chasing kids (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't flap in the breeze but are strong enought to carry a screaming toddler out of the candy aisl in the grocery store. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my third pregnancy.

If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like a car with fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.

On the practical side, I could use I could use a talking daughter doll that says, "Yes, Mommy," to boost my parental confidence, along with three potty-trained toddlers, four kids who don't fight, and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tebetan monks chanting, "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog (on a good day).

And please don't forget the Playdoh travel pack, the hottest stocking stuffer this year for mothers of pre-schoolers. It comes in three fluorescent colors and is guaranteed to crumble on any carpet making the in-laws' house seem just like mine. If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.

If you don't mind I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much to declare Ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It ould be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family; or if my toddlers didn't look so cute sneaking downstairs to eat contraband ice-cream in his pajamas at midnight.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the chimney and come in and dry off by the fire so you don't catch a cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Yours always...Mom

P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.

Just Because

Just some pics...

The smaller boy is a T-Rex and no-one can tell him otherwise. Whenever he wants anything he either puts the work dinosaur or t-rex in front of the word. He says "Mommy, want t-rex scream" when he wants ice-cream. When I am playing my guitar he wants me to sing dine-dine songs. Or of coarse songs about him as a t-rex. He wants his t-rex cereal in the morning, and he growls when he gets upset. So the top picture here is my little t-rex. We just love him! Keep checking back- I have some pics of the new home to post when I get a little more time.

Dire Straights

I need some serious feedback on this post. I have some excellent news. My smaller boy, the one who just turned 2 over the summer, came up to me one day. He says, "POOP".

I say, "You want to poop in the potty?"

He nods his head. I take him in there and to my surprise he is clean in his diaper and proceeds to poop on the potty! He does this the next day and the day after that. One day I reminded him and for two weeks straight he does not poop in his pants!!

WooHoo!!!

I decided not to push the issue, but encourage him as much as I could. I tried to get him excited about underwear. He wanted nothing to do with them, but he liked to pick out his own diaper and give it to me to put him in when he was done. I was trying not to get my hopes up, but in the back of me head I am thinking, "Smaller boy will be potty-trained before my 6-yr-old!"

Alas, it is my children, this is my life, and of coarse it does not last. The last three days he has pooped in his pants, without a peep. I had no idea. I couldn't stop it.

I can't help thinking that I lost my window of oppurtunity with this one. I have been potty training constantly for the last 4 years, without success. So yes I have some experience, but nothing has worked for me so far.

What do you guys think I should do on this one. Let it go and work it out later? Try to force underwear on him because now I know he can do it? I have already tried to bribe with treats. I wish I knew what to do. Does anybody have any advise for me besides telling me that I totally screwed this one up by not doing something ealier?

Thank You

Here are a few photos from the time we spent with Mongee and Grandpa J. We stayed at their house for a while when school started, until we were able to get into our house. I don't know that they have a single breakable trinket in tact at this time. The littler boy fell out the second story window one night when he was supposed to be in bed. Their poor Koi fish are now dead. I don't know if they will ever allow us into their house again, but we wanted to say:

THANK YOU!!!!!!

We love you guys and are super happy that we had that time to spend with you two! Thanks for all you do! Sorry about all the broken and/or dead items!

Where Is My Life-Raft?

I have really been struggling lately. I miss my friends and my life. I think I do pretty well with big changes, but we had so many in such little time. I had the smallest boy, and then the man got a new job and me and the kids were by ourselves. Then we moved here to Utah. It is great. I love our home. And so excited to be closer to family.
But 4 kids are sooo hard.
95% of my day is spent in meeting the needs of my children.
I cook for them, clean for them, get them dressed,
tell them to go potty, tell them to change their pants when they don't go potty,
get shoes on, take to school, bring home, feed them,
feed the baby, hold the baby, let them have candy,
don't let them have candy, get them snacks, get them drinks,
let them play with friends... help their friends,
jackets on-jackets off, constantly answering questions
that have been repeated a million-trillion times-
(mom- can I play your ipod, mom can I play ratchet, mom, mom, MOM!!!!!!!).
They are just still at the age where they are so demanding- constantly needing me.
All of them.
At the same time.
All the time.
Everyday.
Where is the time I need for myself?
It is hidden back in the corner of the cupboard- in the fetal position waiting to come out for a few years. This is tuff stuff! And I don't have any friends to cry to anymore. To come over and save me when I am drowning. I love you friends and miss you!!!!
I am drowning.
In a sea of children.

From Utah

she likes to dress up

The man and the girl

Me and the smallest boy

the backyard of the new house

Okay so not lots of time, but a quick update. We have not sold our home in Idaho yet, but we put an offer on a short-sale in Utah thinking that it would take a long time- and it didn't. We got a killer deal, so we took it, and now we are renting the home in Idaho. And we are living in Utah. . We are loving the new home that we are in, but we sure are missing our friends. Here are some recent pics of the kids. I want to post some pics of our new house , but it is still quite a mess from the move. Soon.

The girl says to me the other day, "Hey, can we play mommy?"

"Sure" I say.

"Okay, I'll be the mommy and you be the honey".

Isn't she cute? (I call her "honey" a lot.)