Daily Dozen

This is 12 posts in one. I guess I have a lot to say!

1) Nodules 

Thumbs down. I really miss singing, and the holidays are approaching (Christmas carols!) So I went to the ENT monday, to find out why I've had no voice since April. I almost always get a little raspy during allergy season because I'm always always pregnant or breastfeeding and there aren't any safe allergy meds to help the drainage. This year, however, I lost my voice in the spring and it never came back. So off to the ENT I went. It was not a comfortable experience to have a scope fished through my nose and down the back of my throat. Yuck. 

Results were what we assumed they would be: nodules on my vocal chords.  

Are you picturing Brittany Snow from Pitch Perfect right now? "I have nodes." Hahahaha! It's the first thing my ENT joked about, too.  Luckily, I don't need surgery. But I do need to start allergy meds as soon as Sloane stops nursing, and at the same time, take 10 days of complete non-verbal (apparently whispering is worse than yelling?) vocal rest. No talking? Like at all?  Impossible. Aaron's going to love it! ;)

Who can get away with not speaking for 10 days?  Not I, said the cat. But I will try. 

2) Running 

I ran 6.5 miles on Saturday morning with Kasey and Chris Mains. It was challenging and wonderful and the best I've felt physically in a very long time thanks to great ladies, great conversation, great weather, great perseverance, and a great trail. Trudging up that Crystal Bridges trail is empowering, and flying back down is just  a rush of all good feelings. I am so thankful that my body can do amazing things, and I recognize Saturday's run as a gift from my creator. 

3) Study

  Still using this study guide and still really enjoying it. Reading scriptures never gets old, but I was due for a different study style. This is great!

4) Serving

Our callings are going great and challenging us just the right amout to keep us balanced. I'm trying to serve as often as I can and recognize the times its ok to pass. 

Then I subbed in primary this week and the lesson told the story of the Good Samaritan.  I felt a stirring that perhaps I relate better to the Priest or Levite man lately.  Too often, I cross on the other side to avoid adding anything else to my plate. I resolve to act when I feel prompted to serve, and trust Heavenly Father to increase my capacity. The "all is well in Zion" mentality is a pride trap to help me justify my offering. It's not my lace to judge who needs help or why they help. If service is asked and I can do it, I will. 

5) Trying

This happened in our way to the van on Sunday morning of the primary program.  Luckily I had a 15 minute buffer for my 15 minute buffer and managed to clean both boys and change clothes arrive at church before the opening hymn. I slipped in it and when I fell to the floor we all just laughed. What a morning!

7) projects 

The deck. I started sanding after school, yesterday and only got about halfway done in the hour before Sloane woke up, but it's (so far) going quickly and easily and (haha) smoothly. I'm hilarious.

The greenhouse. 

Seeds are sprouting! Pics coming soon! My awesome steal of a deal garden beds turning out to be a bust, though. The wood is warping and they're already coming apart. They'll work for this year, but you get what you pay for, I guess. We'll have to invest in cedar or other hard wood another year. I'm taking a "field trip" up to my retired sawyer buddy, Glenn Beck, at his homestead in the next week or so. I might see if he's got anything in his yard. Bummer that my recycled beds aren't holding up. It's still a beautiful sight out my window on this rainy autumn morning. 

The chickens. 5 of the 6 are now laying. Hip hip hooray! 

It's currently Corbin's chore to collect eggs from the nesting box, and wash them in the kitchen sink. Sometimes, Soren helps, as evidenced by what I find in my bathroom, or his closet, or the front yard. I hope I don't not find one, I'll be in some stinky house trouble. 

The rocks...this will take awhile. It wasn't on my agenda to landscape right now, but the rock finally became available, with no guarantee of when it would be available again (they've been out for several months.) So we went for it and behold the 19 tons of River Rock in my driveway. Oops! I maaaay have under estimated how many rocks are in "one load".  

So, how do you eat an elephant? One wheelbarrow at a time. Send your poor teens to my house. I'll happily pay them to move some bites out of this massive rock mountain!

Paint. I purchased paint for the front door (went with a yellow color called Yarrow) but I'm not going to paint the door until the deck mess is done. 

The guest room (aka dumping ground) is finally getting cleaned up, now that all of my Rhea Lana items are in bins for next week's sale. Look mom and Lynda! We put actual bedding in "Grandma's Room."

The Garage. I'm trying to purge stuff so I can park in there again when we get the deck furniture out of there. Oh and move the rocks out of the way! Our driveway is currently barricaded! Haha!

I put a dozen items on the front porch and posted "freebie friday" on a church community facebook page. Everything was gone in 24 hours. One man's trash is another man's treasure. It brought me joy to see a cute young couple expecting their first baby high five one another as they carried away the blue changing table from Soren's room. I bought that little table at a garage sale in Boise, just weeks before Reese was born. 11 years flies by. 

8) Appointments 

I have at least one doctor, dentist, well visit, orthodontist, or parent teacher conference every day for 2 1/2 weeks straight! I'm one and a half weeks in and have already missed a parent teacher conference. Simmer down, schedule. Here's cute Corbin at the dermatologist receiving a treatment for a virus on his hands. 

 I ran into Robin in the waiting room at another appointment. He tried to make Sloane laugh and terrified her, instead. She cried through the doctor appointment and he felt awful. Poor Robin, only trying to help. 

9) Likeness 

My aunt Tami texted this picture of me (age 3) with my Grandpa (Sam Tenney). I see Corbin's face and Soren's hair in me, and a little Quincy in my grandpa. My children are so lucky to live in a world with a camera in their faces to document their almost daily lives. Film used to be saved for special occasions (and was very expensive to develop) when I was young, so I only have a few dozen pictures from my early childhood. I'd never seen this one before, and I love it. My grandpa was such a good man. So good, I'll say it twice, because it's the best way to describe him. He was such a good man. 

10) Fall Soccer is over.

This was the best season, yet, for our family. Good weather,  not a terribly over scheduled soccer night, we were blessed with early Saturday game times, an enthusiastic player, and cheerful siblings, still willing to spend Monday nights on the field supporting their brother. That said, I'm ready to pack the jerseys and cleats up until spring. Great season, Corbin!! 

11) Into the closet

I've lost 40 lbs of the 50+ lbs I gained while pregnant with Sloane (Donuts!).  She's 9 months old and I am happy with where I am.  I've never been one to pay attention to numbers as long as I have energy to live and my jeans fit. My pre baby jeans don't fit (not even close). I bought bigger jeans and haven't looked back. It's time to get rid of everything that is too big, and everything that will always be too small. Clothes that don't fit don't deserve the closet real estate. I recently told a friend who is struggling with this, "you are of greater worth than just your physical appearance." I believe that to be true, and don't keep anything that preaches otherwise. Clothes are an expression to help you feel like you. Time to declutter. 

I'm also loving the idea of a "dream board" of sorts. I have all these great quotes and verses that I get on handouts at church, or lovely cards/notes from friends. I want to keep them, but they aren't really serving a purpose if they're shoved in a drawer. When I put up a bulletin board in the girls' room, they immediately covered it with pictures and things that make them happy: a swim team ribbon, a picture of Jesus, a family photo, a Polaroid with friends, a magazine cutout of their favorite american girl doll, artwork, our family theme on scrapbook paper, etc.  I need to do this. I love it and I think my closet wall is the perfect place for a dream board. But instead of a dream board, it's my reality board. Not things I wish for, but realities I am thankful to have. I am living my dream, and I believe gratitude is the antidote to pride. 

THEN Aaron and I went to the movies on Saturday night. I think this is our first movie together since Meet the Mormons, and before that...maybe another year! 

We saw War Room. Of course it was cheesy, with ok acting. But we wanted to support the genre, and tell the movie industry thatAmericans will support the genre so they'll create more clean, uplifting films, and invest in talented screenwriters and actors. 

Anyway, the movie involves a woman who totally empties her closet to create a peaceful place to pray. I was already on this line of thinking when I started cleaning my closet out last week. Remove distraction, create a place where I can dress myself in gratitude at the start and end of each day. I hadn't thought to pray in there.  I don't intend to empty my closet, nor do I believe I must write out my prayers or be at any kind of altar to pray, but I am intrigued by creating another peaceful space to ponder and be free from distractions while I talk to Heavenly Father. Cheesy or not, we all need a "war room", where we declare satan our enemy and create a battle plan of more righteous living. 

I'm going to spend the gratitude-month of November adding to my...I'm not sure what I will call it yet-board, and I think I will hang it in my closet. 

12) mr independent 

Makes himself a bowl of oatmeal every day. He spills it everywhere. Everywhere. He gets the water from the (yup! Power gag) bathroom sink. Whatever man, thanks for making breakfast!  

Today, he put a leftover donut in my hand and said, "Here. It's good for you." 

Yes, Soren. Yes it is! 

Things that make the scriptures awesome.

In our family study, we're currently reading 2 Nephi in the Book of Mormon, where Nephi quotes the prophecies of Isaiah concerning the Second Coming.  It's heavy stuff....especially for our small kids.  Also, it's heavy stuff...especially for me. Every time I get to 2 Nephi, I feel like am drowning in text and just try to get through it with some more understanding than the time before.  My dad bought me a book to help, and I haven't started it yet, but after tonight, I realized I need to expand my study of the prophet Isaiah and make more sense so I can better teach our children.

Aaron and I have discussed ways to make the scriptures more meaningful to the kids, and he is very good at pausing to answer questions, explain big words, and encourage discussion with the children about what they think is happening.  We're taking it very slowly and only focus on a few verses at a time so the children can draw basic lessons from them.

Tonight we read 2 Nephi 17:22.  As the words left Aaron's lips, I burst into laughter and the giggles contagiously spread throughout the room.  I'm not sure how I missed it all of the times I've read it before.  Actually, I'm exactly sure how. Have you read the words of Isaiah?  No explanation necessary for how one could easily skim over the words without absorbing much. The scripture is going down in history as one of the Willardson's favorite verses. Why?

2 Nephi 17:22 "And it shall come to pass, for the abundance of milk they shall give he shall eat butter, for butter and honey shall every one eat that is left in the land."

abundance of milk?
eat butter and honey?

Throw in a Lakers game and they basically just described the greatest day of Aaron's life.

And don't forget verse 15
"Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know to refuse the evil and to choose the good."  

Well played Isaiah, well played.

Dad, if you're reading this, I am going to start that book. Not that that Second Coming wasn't enticing enough before, but butter? I'm all kinds of interested in Isaiah, now.

Stuff that ain't fo sissies/I'm spent.

Unless you have acually suffered from Hyperemesis Gravidarum yourself, you truly cannot understand what it is like. You just can't. Wishing for sickness to get better does not translate into ingratitude for this baby, and I would do it all 150 times again, because even though it is hard, it is worth it.  Here is my reality:

Every day, my schedule goes as follows:

4:15 Aaron's alarm goes off. I make a mad dash to the bathroom and throw up. Crawl back into bed. Eat some crackers or a piece of toast.

6:15 Get Reese ready for school, pack her lunch, and send her out the door. Throw up in the driveway or on the lawn while we wait for the bus.

6:45 Eat a bagel and cream cheese and a juice box. Read and then pray that today will be better or at least different than the day before.

7:15-8:15 Sleep

8:15 get dressed, take Quincy to school. Pull over on the way home and throw up somewhere along Lancashire blvd and then throw up again and again for another 1-2 hours when I get home. Lay on couch with a bowl and watch Spirit or Toy Story with Corbin. On the days I don't have to drive anywhere, lie on the sofa and do absolutely nothing and don't start throwing up until I have to sit up and do something.

11am Eat Breakfast #3. Take Zofran. Turn all the lights off because Zofran may help keep food down, but the nausea never goes away, and Zofran causes headaches, light sensitivity, and anxiety attacks.

12:00 pick up Quincy from school. Throw up Zofran. Take another dose.

12:30-3 eat lunch, nap Corbin, set Q up with a quiet activity. Sleep on the sofa for 2 glorious un-nauseated hours. On a really good day, take advantake of this time and go to the store, or take the kids to the sand park. When I feel great, I REALLY feel pretty great and try to make the most of it.

3:00 Reese gets home, homework, snacks, think about what I could eat for dinner.

3:15 Bring on the Zofran headache....

4:30 - 6:30 pm = sick sick sick. Aaron brings home dinner, and swoops in like a knight and feeds the children, gives them much needed attention, and helps get them into bed. Dinner gets eaten and thrown up multiple times.

7pm finally keep another dose of Zofran down. Eat a bagel and cream cheese or something equaly bland and boring.

8-9:30 pm, I usually feel pretty great. This is definitely the best hour of my day and the only time I will get anything accomplished.

10pm-12pm moan and grown on the sofa and run to the kitchen sink every 30-45 minutes. Feel extreme gratitude for Aaron for helping keep life running around here. Sip a bowl of chicken broth, eat 5 crackers, drink some gatorade.

midnight: collapse into bed, somehow exhausted, as if I done anyting other than lay around all day.

This has been our daily routine for the last (count em) 7+ weeks....except I didn't get any Zofran until 3 weeks ago.

Now, throw in a round of RSV, several ear infections and a burst ear drum, strep, pinkeye, midnight kid puke all over the beds, a lice scare at Q's school (luckily, we didn't get it, but that's probably because everything in our house was basically boiled when she got home), excess saliva (so gross), pregnancy incontinence and then of all things, I got a sinus and ear infection this week.
So it hasn't been hard because friends haven't offered to help with playdates...they've totally offered, my friends are awesome. Luck and good health just haven't been on our side long enough to send the children anywhere, this month!

I had to quit teaching my older preschool class because it was just too hard to load up on enough Zofran to stay well for the 2 1/2 hr class for two days in a row. I'm managing the other class fine for now and openly admit that I simply love it too much to give it up entirely.

My mom arrived Wednesday night, and witnessed the horror show that is my puke(/pee my pants) schedule and we couldn't be happier that she is here to help.

I've managed to keep hydrated enough to stay out of the hospital, our baby is healthy and growing, I was well enough to make it to church on Sunday and have a few good outings last week, and for all of that we are grateful beyond words.

This is my 8th pregnancy in 8 years. You would think that each one would get easier, but for me, they don't.

Tonight, all I did was stand up, and I immediately (like, immediately) started throwing up. It was like watching Saturday in reverse.

I don't know why it is so much work for me to have a baby when it is so much easier for other women. I also don't know why those women will see me throwing up in a trash can or a bathroom or a parking lot somewhere and feel compelled to tell me how easy their pregnancies were and how "this never happened to them". Why, ladies, why? Be useful, go get me a paper towel...and some clean underwear...and second (or third) lunch.
And don't ask me, "why did you decide to have more kids if being pregnant makes you so sick?", or tell me that my wishes to feel better mean I am ungrateful for this baby. And don't assume that I have any kind of control at all over how I feel, cuz girl....you don't know my life.

Anyway, obviously want this baby very badly. The effort to have him or her here began a year ago and has involved a terrible miscarriage, a lot of heartache, and a lot of waiting. It only seems fitting that the entire process will be filled with trials and opposition until he or she arrives. We are thrilled and terrified and happy and grateful and already madly in love with who Aaron has decided must be a sassy-pants little red-head daughter to be giving me so much grief already ;)

Seriously, we will be SHOCKED if this baby is a boy. But then, we were already shocked at the first ultrasound when the dr told us there is only one baby in there, because I am bigger than I was at 20 weeks with the last pregnancy, and sick enough for 10 babies.

My mom got here on Wednesday and she has been a life saver. I've already thrown up one less time for every poopy diaper of Corbin's that "Gwamma" has changed ;), and she's held my hair back a lot more than anyone should ever do in their life. We're enjoying each other's company, too, of course, and the hours I felt really good (or was drugged up into believing I felt good) we've gotten out of the house and enjoyed. Aaron will be gone all next week for work. I would seriously be panicking if my mom weren't here to take care of us!

Anyway, that is our life right now. This post is whiny, but I don't really care. I never post how I really truly feel, and maybe if I had written a play by play of my pregnancy over the summer (where I also spent several weeks throwing up, so FYI, it's absolute bull when a dr tells you that being sick is a sign of a healthy baby. just sayin'.) we would have been better prepared and not foolish enough to actually believe that we understood what our "worst case scenario" hypermesis scenario looked like. We had no idea just how bad it could get!

Some days do seem like it is getting better. Corbin was most definitely my easiest pregnancy and I quit throwing up by about 17 or 18 weeks, so we have our fingers crossed that relief is just around the corner.

Thanks, Mom, for still being my "Mom" and giving my husband, children, and girlfriends a much needed break from being my caretakers (I have a whole other post for them coming soon) and for never having anything but positive things to say about another baby joining our family. We are pretty super incredibly happy, too.

And also, thanks for making sacrifices and enduring the not-easiness of pregnancy one last time, 30 years ago, so I could be lucky enough to call you my Mom, today. I am grateful for you, and well...wasn't I totally worth it? ;)

Stay Puft

I just discovered Corbin playing quietly in his room.
And by "playing quietly", I mean I found my little glutton hiding in the corner after eating 3/4 of a box of Cocoa Puffs in one sitting.

Playing with him now just feels like a booby trap. I mean, that's a lot of Cocoa Puffs!

He is currently running around, giggling, and showing off his bloated belly. It's hysterical, and I am literally afraid to squeeze or poke him. If I wrestle him too much, he'll blow, and I'll be sorry.

Alas, he is going to explode eventually and it won't be pretty.

in other news...
Happy Valentine's Day, Aaron!
I move we save ourselves from our little ticking time bomb of a son and go for Plan B: Operation Get-A-Sitter-Tonight and give her a really big tip.

Update: well, we didn't escape fast enough. 4:56 pm (so close!) take cover, folks. It's a bad one.

Where the Wild Things Are

This took 2 minutes. I sent the kids to take showers and get in pajamas, while I finished preparing dinner. (chicken piccata. Yum. Recipe here.)

What you can't see in the shot are the dirty contents of the white basket, dragged to every room of the house, blood and bandaids in the kitchen, or the happily satisfied faces on my very naughty little heathens streaking behind me.

Yep. Streaking.

Somewhere between getting undressed and actually getting into the tub, a roll of wrapping paper was pulled down the hall and my (easily distracted) children realized they could "ice skate" on it in their slippery socks.
Socks were all they were wearing at this point. Classy.

All while I naievely oohed and ahhed over my stove top masterpiece in the kitchen, and even made a lovely facebook post about the lovely day and my lovely kids and the lovely giggles I could hear coming from them in the hall (red flag, meg! red flag!) and how lovely they are at Christmastime.

"Lovely ice skating" was actually naked "ice skating" and it quickly became naked "slip n slide", and naked "slip n slide" turned the fate of all activities that involve my son:

Wrestlemania and someone crying. Or as we call it: Kung Fu Corbin.

A wrapping paper tube fight broke out in the bedroom.
Reese appeared in the kitchen with a giant paper cut on her stomach.
Wrapping Paper Slip n Slide was banned in the Willy House.
Q screamed a lot.
Corbin "Hoooooooooy-YA! Hoy-YA!"d until the cardboard tube battle ended.

The children were fed dinosaur chicken nuggets, and went to bed without showering.
Aaron and I devoured the chicken piccata in silence, took this picture, and cleaned up a 2-dozen-paper-snowflake-mess inthe kitchen,
Then we wrapped a few presents with pieces of the "slip n slide".

How I managed to sleep in until 9am the other day

even though the kids were up before the sun. Many thanks go out to Calamity Jane for that one.

Speaking of Calamity Jane... if I could take Doris Day and and Julie Andrews circa Maria Von Trapp/Mary Poppins....(ok NOT Julie Andrews the person, but Julie Andrews as Fraulein Maria and Mary Poppins) and mash them into one person, the outcome would totally be my idol.

Thanks to technology, Doris Day was available to "whip-crack-away" my kids into a sweet television coma, and I got my own little coma on.

There are few things a mother cherishes more than an unexpected extra 3 hours of sleep.

It was Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

On the Nice List

Why is This Popular?

What's with everyone having their portraits taken on railroad tracks? Does anyone else find this fad totally disturbing? For example, Newborn portraits....why? What possessed the mother to lay her baby on the train tracks and have his picture taken? Postpartum depression?

Graduation pics are another baffling example. My guess is that the average student graduating in 2012 has never taken the train in his/her life....with the exception of big cities, but we're not talking about the subway. Nooo...nobody is having their senior pics taken on the subway. They're on a rural train track out in the middle of nowhere, and they've chosen this spot to represent their arrival to adulthood. With train tracks. Cuz that's realistic.

And while we're being realistic, why not traipse on down to the tracks in your wedding gown for some bridal shots. To me, these say, "I'd rather throw myself in front of a train than get married, today."

Anyway, why the railroad tracks? Someone please help me out here. I don't look at a train track and see, "Let's cherish this moment forever..."

I see, "...or at least until the Union Pacific charges through and kills us all."

I admit that I am a terrible photographer, so maybe I am not artsy enough.
I get that you need some kind of background, and that society is moving away from the "stand in front of the fireplace" backdrop that has served the holiday card gods for the past 50 years. I mean, if you see a cool bridge, group of trees, or the texture of a building would make a cool background, I'm all for that. But the railroad tracks...I just don't get that one.

And while I am glad that long gone are the days of the matchy matchy denim shirts and khaki pants family pictures, there are still some new trends that I just don't understand:

"Barefoot and pregnant... and freezing because I'm standing in this river."

and the bridal shot variation of this same picture:
"We're getting married and got in the river with all our clothes on because there's nothing like standing thigh deep in wet jeans and kissing to say, 'Hey! Come to our wedding!'"

another common family picture:
"Our family lives in the city, but we thought this old barn was cool, so we are standing in front of it for our Christmas card. Plus, it was right there, conveniently next to those cool railroad tracks we drove out to post on for our school pictures.

"We went to the beach to stand in the ocean and hold hands and jump. And we all wore white."

"We don't wear shoes when we take walks through urban alleyways"

and the worst photo prop fad:
"Hey look! It's our bed! It's randomly plopped down in the forest! Let's have a leaf fight and jump on the mattress!" Now, I do understand the bench, chair, and even the sofa (The Cranberries officially made that one cool in 1994) as part of the photo shoot. I mean, if people've gotta sit down, might as well use a beautiful furniture for seating.
But a bed? This makes no sense to me. Veto.

Don't get me wrong, if you live near the tracks/farm/barn/ocean/lake/river/bridge/alley/orchard or if it has some kind of significance in your life, well then...go right ahead. It makes total sense for you to pose there. (Except the railroad tracks. I don't understand that one at all, unless it's for comedic purposes. If it makes me laugh, it's ok.)

It's the country hippie people that pose on a city roof top, or the city people that pose on a cattle fence. It feels like misrepresentation...at least for the photo that goes out to x amount of people in the "this is what my life is like" annual card. Am I wrong?

Feel free to chime in here, with your opinion....especially those of you who take pictures.

Hmmm...I know you are all dying to see OUR family picture this year, now, so you can make fun of us and get even. Fair enough. Except we haven't taken ours yet. We're waiting for the perfect opportunity, and searching for the right spot.

Like on some railroad tracks that go through the ocean.
Top that one, cool people.

General Conference Weekend

Lest any of you believe I am a perfect parent (wait...does anyone actually think this? Have I fooled someone? Can we be BFFs?), I thought I'd post the only picture I took from our Backyard Campout, this weekend.



And why didn't I take more pictures?
Because it was a semi-disaster, that's why.


Despite (or we like to believe it was to spite) our best efforts we discovered:
1) that I am officially not a camper.
2) that my children definitely are not campers.


Friday night was an epic fail. (notice the default dinner--- GV mac n cheese with cut up hot dogs.).

Oh and then there was the campfire. Oh the fire! I won't go into detail, but all I can say is that there is now an 18 inch circle of completely charred grass in the back lawn. It's like a horrifible (yes, I know HORRIFIBLE is not a word. I made it up. Horrific+Horrible = horrifible) tattoo to remind Aaron and I of our night of stupidity.

Stupidity meaning we thought we could spontaneously set up a tent and campfire in the backyard, and have a practice run "camping trip" with the kids and all would go well, the children would be delighted, and we would all get a good comfortable night's sleep and awake chipper and full of love and affection for one another in the morning.
Family togetherness...isn't this what all of you camper people swear will happen?

You folks are liars, I will tell you that right now.

For the non-campers out there, let's be real for a minute. You can count on me to tell you the truth.


Camping sucks, y'all.


Corbin crapped out on this idea about 8:30 pm and Aaron took him inside and put him in his crib where he promptly fell asleep before the door to his bedroom had even been closed....and then Aaron promptly fell asleep on the living room sofa and never actually made it back outside.

The girls were determined to remain strong and stick it out in the tent.


It was freaking freezing.


Camping is COLD! We huddled together under the covers and Quincy put her ice dagger feet under my shirt like 100 times and I am proud to say I refrained from cursing.

To silence---er "distract" the girls from their whining, I decided to cheat and got out the portable dvd player (you know, to completely contradict the purpose of camping by drowning out the elements of nature with the all natural sounds Harry Potter. Let me assure you that I felt like a "Prisoner of Azkaban" on Friday night).


This worked for about 30 minutes.
Unfortunately, it was Bikes, Blues and BBQ weekend, and every two minutes, a Harley Davidson chopper would chug past our house, deafen my children, startle the crap out of us, drown out the movie, cause at least one child to cry, aaaaand remind us that we were outside, spooned uncomfortably into an air mattress and blanket taco, and freezing our cans off when our warm, non plasticy non backyard-smelly non bugg-buzzy non firepit-smokey non motorcycle choppy and quite cozy beds were 30 feet away.
Unable to cast a patronus charm to keep away the icy breathed, joy sucking dementors that encircled us, we gave up at 10:30pm and came inside to thaw out and sleep in our own beds.


I know.
We are weak.
All of you real campers, (read: liars who say camping is fun to trick us into doing something stupid when we could be warm, comfortable, and still like each other) are saying, "Nice try, Willys, nice try."


What I think you are saying is, "bwhahaha! Suckas!"

It wasn't all terrible. A few good things came out of this:

-We learned not to go camping again, this year.

-We were able to teach the children about King Benjamin and how multitudes traveled far distances and camped in tents to be able to hear his counsel. This lesson helped get the kids excited to watch General Conference give modern day counsel AND

-We realized how blessed we are to be able to have the words of our leaders available to us through television, Internet, and magazines and how lucky we are to NOT have to travel and camp out to hear them. I. do. not. know. if we would survive!

General Conference will happen again the first weekend in April and we are looking forward to it. Conference was amazing and inspiring, so for the most part, the weekend was a win....except for that whole camping thing.

Things I Survived

I threw my back out yesterday. I've narrowed the cause down to either wrestling with Corbin or lifting the freezer by myself to level it. Either way, It hurts like nothing I've ever experienced, and I spent my day changing ice packs and hittin' the ibuprofen.

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We took a small outing to the library, this morning. Corbin's behavior there could be compared to that of a fire breathing dragon in a ...well a library still works for this comparison. The good news is that I scored 2 movies (Miracle on 34th Street and It's a Wonderful Life to add to our Christmas movie collection) and 3 hard cover books (The Secret, The Glass Castle, The Thirteenth Tale) for $8 total from the For Sale section in the back. Hopefully, it will take me a month or two to get through them, because it's going to be as long before we are welcomed back into the library with a smile from the ladies behind the counter.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

During naptime today, Quincy wandered out and said, "Mom, there's poop in my room."
Me: Poop? In your room? Why? Hey. You've got chocolate on your face..."

Wait.
Noooo.

I went back to her bedroom.

no.
No.
NOOOOO.

It was like a minefield.
I don't even know how she did it, I really don't. More than anything, though, I wish she hadn't tried to clean it up herself.

With ALL of the clothes from the dirty hamper.

and her bedding.
and the curtains.
and Reese's bedding.
and all of the stuffed animals from Reese's bed.

No surface was left untouched.
Is I scrubbed (which my back did not appreciate) and started a 2nd load of laundry (this is not including the pieces I simply threw away because there was just no coming back from the devastation), I looked around and seriously considered just closing the door and boarding that bedroom up.

Why, Quincy? Whyyyyyyyyy???!!!!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We fed the sister missionaries dinner the other night. As soon as they entered the kitchen, the girls ran up to them and announced, "Guess what?! We have a rat in our kitchen!" Nice.

Stay Classy San Diego.

Musing

I'm grateful for my sweet kids. Reese made breakfast this morning. I could get used to that. Corbin said, "have a good night night, Mommy?" when I got him up from his second nap (I know...two naps? How lucky am I?). And Quincy...well she took Corbin's red bat away (aka the club o' destruction) and threw it in the trash because, "this thing is too naughty for Corbin, Mom!" Now, they are romping around the backyard and pretending to be Kit, Ruthie, and Sterling in the treehouse. I love them. I live for them.

I'm grateful for my parents. They are really really good people.

I'm grateful it rained today.

I'm grateful for my house. It is located between the worst combination of neighbors in America and there are still 3 kittens (probably dead) trapped under it, and there is still a (now starving and pissed that we haven't just killed him off yet) raccoon in a trap in my backyard that growls when you go outside. But those things aside, I love my house. I will never get sick of the earthy grey color on the walls, I love my stuff (whoa! hoarder alert!), I love the screened in porch in the spring, the patio and the pergola in the summer, hopefully a garden full of pumpkins and butternut squash in the fall, and the cozy fireplace in the winter. I love that it is my house. I love that there are no spare bedrooms because they are full of people that I love.

I'm grateful for medicine. I know I talk about this one often--too often for some, but I don't give a rip. Hospitals and doctors and medicine and amazing medical technology are blessings from God. I refuse to be a fool, mock my maker, and take these blessings for granted by thinking I know better or using anything other than the best medical practices available to me.

I'm grateful for Aaron's job. I don't have to work = life is pretty grand, I say. It's pretty easy to hate on Walmart and trust me, as associates we hear our share of hatin'. To the haters I say, "work somewhere else, yo!" because Walmart has got. it. going. on. Top of the Fortune 500 is not a bad place to be.

Wow, Aaron must really have me converted to Walmart lovin', I'm starting to sound like I'm telling the team "what it takes to be number one".

----Man, it's a real shame Aaron doesn't read this blog, cuz his wife just dropped Vince Lombardi like it's hot on her blog. He'd be so proud. I about blew his socks off on Friday as the valuable informant that broke the news to him that Ron Artest had changed his name to Metta World Peace. Boom! What's that Vince? Who's in the hall of fame now? Me. The Wife Hall of Fame.

ok, where were we? oh right, Walmart. I'm mostly grateful for Walmart because working for Walmart makes Aaron so happy. I am so grateful for my Aaron.

I'm grateful for my Kindle. I know I was a hater for awhile, because I wasn't getting my mom's hand-me-down books anymore, but dang. That thing is super awesome. And it has a cute orange case. And I have instant access to books. I love it.


I'm grateful for good friends that give genuine love and support when it is most needed, and then give it again when I think it is not needed but they know it really is.


I'm grateful for the highly addictive substance Chick-Fil-A is hiding in their buffalo sauce. Whatever it is, I'm certain it coined the term 'awesomesauce' because the food high that rolls immediately after comsumption is straight up money.

I'm grateful I have two lovely cleaning goddesses coming to do a deep deep clean tomorrow.

I'm grateful for God's timeline. I have a serious need to control things (gasp! really?) and there are many things in life that we just can't control. God's timeline allows for breaks (forces us to stop rushing) to just enjoy living.

It's Good to Be Meg Willardson

It's good to be me.
Today I:

-started our summer reading program

-felt guilty that Henry's garage has not opened in 72 hours (another post. wait for it.)

-waited all morning for the A/C guy to show up. At 11 I called him and he acted all put out as though it was my fault he was so busy and wouldn't be able to make it after all (um, ya think? You were supposed to be here an hour ago.) He said he miiiiight be able to squeeze me in next week, but this week is too busy. Well, Mr. Fixit, you may have come highly recommended by friends, but that is what you told me last week, and that is WHY we had an appointment this morning. I had my Mom come pick up Quincy and take her to a birthday party for me, and I moved Reese's doctor appointment to the afternoon to make myself available for you. You didn't even call me to tell me you weren't showing up, so I think we'll be better off with someone else.

-fished Cowboy Boots out of a toilet bowl. No, not those kind of cowboy boots...
This kind of Boots...he's a cowboy. (yeppers, those are salad tongs.)

-moved that shirt to the "recycle bin" after seeing that photo.

-panicked after eating dinner, because I thought Aaron had taken the dirty "toilet tongs" out of the dishwasher to use them to take the hot dogs off the grill. (He didn't, but we all had a good laugh. Yes, I am just going to buy new tongs. Yes. You can come over for hot dogs.)

-lost a bunch of friends because they read my blog. hahaha! No really. Can we still be friends if you use my bathroom and find Boots in my toilet? Just tell me now ;)

-yelled numbers at a machine recording until it gave up and put a real representative on the phone to activate my new debit card (we canceled the other one because we thought it had been stolen, but it turns out I am just an airhead and remembered the cause of the high dollar mystery purchase-Quincy's ER visit for the quarter--less than 1 minute AFTER the old card was canceled. oopsie.) After forevah on the phone, my "immediately activated" card didn't work when I tried to buy lunch Chick-Fil-A. I have a hot date with customer service tomorrow for some PB&J's and troubleshooting.

-melted when temps hit 95* today. Ew.

-hit this cat with a rock before taking this photo. In my defense, I thought it was dead (he was sleeping). Aaron got him with the shovel. (in Aaron's defense, cats are disgusting and won't leave us alone.) Kitty got away. Point: Smelly Cat.
Dear irresponsible owners of the cats that think they live at my house,

I can't type what I really think about you and your disease infested felines because this is a family blog. Maybe on day when I haven't reached my word limit.

Until then, listen up:
Your cats flock to my yard like owls to Number 4 Privet Drive. There is now a $10 bounty out on your pets, and I will pony up some decent cash for anyone who permanently removes one of them from my yard. Dead or alive, I do not care. I am convinced that most cats sold their souls to Satan a long time ago, so I'm not really concerned about their mortality.

The traps are set,
Meg

-Took Reese to the doctor (ear infection). She did a great job waiting patiently for an hour to see the doctor. When she got home, she ran straight to her "good news journal" to write about her visit and put the sticker inside.

-Started a reading program with Quincy. She has a lisp, so I am going to go with a phonics program for her and see if it helps with her speech as well. Today we worked on some of the letter sounds that she doesn't know yet. Reese enjoyed reading the little books that came with the set.

-Filled a bunch of water balloons. It IS summer after all. The first two balloons lasted 30 minutes and were carefully cradled and carried around the yard. The rest were gone in 5 minutes of pure childhood bliss.





-Consoled the first water bomb victim. (Don't be fooled by the pathetic face. It's a ruse and she gleefully retaliated on her opponent just moments after this photo was taken.)



-Stuffed a couple water balloons in my shirt when Aaron came home for lunch and waited for him to notice. It was hillarious. I'm ten.



-I probably will not be laughing when one of my little girls copies my behavior and stuffs their shirt next week. It was still worth it.



-washed and dryed 4 loads of laundry, but didn't fold or put away one single item. My sheets are in the dryer and Aaron is happily asleep in a heap of towels and a spare blanket (love him.) I'm calling it good enough for tonight and will fold the lot tomorrow.



-the good news is that I found Aaron's pile of socks. I know that sounds crazy, but he's been missing ALL of his black socks for a week, now. They were under a lone shirt at the bottom of the whites basket and kept getting overlooked. Gross, but I am glad I found them because it means I am not crazy. I mean, who loses 10 pairs of identical black socks all at once?



-saw Something Borrowed with my mom. Laughed until I cried on the way to the theater, laughed in the movie, and laughed some more on the way home. Cute movie, great company.

-the hot, fresh, tiny cinnamon donuts weren't bad, either.


-called the police.

Yeah, you read that right. After the movie I dropped my mom off at her rental and headed home. There was a little old lady wandering down Trafalgar road. Some people were trying to talk to her but she wasn't speaking coherently. After they gave up, I rolled down my window and though she clearly had no clue where she was (or who she was, really), she waved her wicker handbag at my van to "get away". I left her, but felt uneasy the rest of the drive home. I called the nonemergency number and the police said they would send someone over to find her and make sure she is ok.

Did you lose your grandma? She's headed south/southeast on Trafalgar, near Commonwealth.



-researched how to clip the hens' wings. I may attempt it tomorrow.



I'm loving summer!

I Confess...

Sometimes, I get mad or upset and have a difficult time letting it go and moving on.

When this happens, Aaron turns on Wipeout, then sits back, and waits.

I sit there, fuming, and insist his plan isn't going to work.

But it's like a train wreck can't not watch
and I can't not laugh.
So then I get even more mad at Aaron for using a cheap tv show to make me not mad at him.

But then someone gets nailed in the head with a foam propeller and I can't stop laughing.
and Aaron congratulates himself on another victory.

Thanks, Wipeout.

F Words

Did my post title catch your attention? I love the idea of posting the 100 things on your mind until you have time to blog about them all, and figured I'd jump on the badwagon. And instead of 20 thoughts on the 20th, why not waste my time (and yours) by frivilously fashioning a fat list of "F words" to organize my thoughts? I know. Why are you still even reading this blog? I often ask myself why I still write it, presuably for the same reasons. Most of these are things that each probably deserve a post of their own, but this is all I've got for ya today.

1) Finished.
I got 100% in my online class!
That means I am D-O-N-E and have a GPA of 4-freaking-point-O, thankyouverymuch.

2) Fear.
I am terrified that something will go terribly wrong (ie-the transfer of the credits process back to BSU will fail me) and I will not be allowed to graduate. It seems that there have been so many obstacles that it would only be appropriate to have to jump through one final ring of fire to be done.

3) Frustration.
I had an interesting conversation the other day that left me wanting to scream.
For the record, I think that Applied Kinesiology (muscle testing for allergy sensitivity) is an absolute joke. A JOKE. I have another post coming on this topic, but for now I feel better just getting that off my chest.

4) Fabulous.
Mother's Day was great. I love my mom so much.

5) Feminine.
I love being a mother. It's the best job in the world.

6) Feline.
I have an animal trap set up in my yard with a can of tuna for bait. I am hoping to catch one of the cats that keep crapping in my garden, sleeping in the front yard, meowing at the windows, and scaring my chickens.

7) Fecal.
For all I know, Quincy has not pooped her quarter out, yet. I'm not even searching for it any more.

8) Fowl.
The chicken coop is done.

9) Farming.
The garden has been planted and is looking great!

10) Fain.
I have a new calling at church, and it's one that I'm pretty excited about. I love being a part of the Relief Society.

11) Freedom.
Aaron and I had a blast on our getaway. We got lost (a lot) and will be purchasing a GPS soon.

12) Fortuitious.
The phone is working again. (3 cheers for that!) It does wonky things every now and then though. Maybe it is haunted. ;)

13) Feint.
I can't stand unproductive meetings. Do not have a meeting to plan another meeting. Do not have a meeting without a facilitator and an agenda. Do not use the words "hate" or "stupid" and do not yell in a meeting. It is childish and discredits everything else that comes out of your mouth. Also, it makes it difficult for me to respect you. Do not spend more time on the production or show of an event than on quality or content. (that one is a huge pet peeve of mine.) Do not assume that everyone operates the same way that you do. Do not tell someone that bringing their kids to the meeting would add chaos if your own children are running rampantly around the room. Don't demand a dessert that you will later refuse to eat. An unproductive meeting is nothing more than a waste of time and a venue for hurt feelings. Do respect the person in charge of the meeting. Do take charge if you are the person that is supposed to be in charge. Do say positive things at the meeting. Do remember the purpose for the meeting. Do be professional. Do not be the reason the meeting was unproductive.

14) Faineant.
I'm reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society and I love it.
I am discovering via historical fiction books that I know very little about anything. Did they cover WWI or WWII when I was in school? The Civil War? Did I even take a History class? Where the heck was I? Asleep? Seriously, how did I graduate high school? Historical fiction is my new favorite genre...have any book suggestions for me?

15) Family.
My parents are here and we couldn't be happier. Do you know my parents? They are awesome. We have no extravagant plans this year, but our days will be filled with laughter, good food, and general kid spoilage. Perfect. The girls are SO excited to go have a sleepover at grandma and grandpa's house. Corbin can say Grandpa, and does so occasionally, but he has taken to calling my dad, "Puppy", affectionately. It's super cute.

16) Facetious
Me: Aaron! Quit it! Your snoring is SO loud!
Aaron: It's cuz I won.
Me: Do you realize how loud you are? Aaron? Aaron?
Aaron (staring RIGHT AT ME): Here.
Me (realizing he is still asleep) What did you win?
Aaron: Makeup Bingo.

Um, do I really want to know?

17) Facsimiled
We bought a sofa. It's an IKEA sectional, but it's kind of fabulous. And it's 1/5 of the cost of it's identical twin from Restoration Hardware. Same look for less, suckas.

18) Found and Frugal
Found: the cute Antropologie hook I bought over the weekend for my collection? It's also at Hobby Lobby... for 1/2 the cost. Who's the sucka now? I guess I am.
Frugal: I did find some rad vintage inspired bun feet online to put under my sofa to make it even more fabulous and raise the seat height a few inches. IKEA is a Swedish company? Do Swedish people have short legs or do they just love to sit close to the ground? Everything we sat on was waaaay too low to the ground. But these feet will raise it to the perfect height, so I am still really happy with our purchase, and I'm stoked that I found the bun feet for so cheap!
I confess: I originally had two E's in "Swedish". You know, "Sweedish", like "sweet" or "sweep"
I confess: I would have to guess if you asked me to point out Sweden on a map. This goes back to the school thing...when did they teach geography? During the History class I apparently did not go to?
I confess: Forget spellcheck. I checked the spelling for Swedish by looking at a box of Swedish Fish candies.

Have you lost all respect for me?

19) Fad
The braided belt is back. What are your thoughts on this one? I'm not about to start sporting Tevas, a fanny pack, or cutoff denim shorts....but I think maybe I can get behind the skinny braided belt. I think.

20) Finale
-Reese is finishing up her first year of school
-the preschool year is coming to an end
-my baby will be 2 tomorrow.

I am hunkered down in a state of alsolute denial about all 3 of these events. Care to join me in my Cave of Disbelief? Great. Could you bring some donuts? Oooh, or how about orange rolls from Crumpet Tea Room Express? Those are calorie free in the comfort of denial. I must be shooting for Fatty as my #21. I haven't been running in 2 weeks. Pass the donuts.

Half Full

Today was a rough one.

In an attempt to feel better about it, I've made a list of some of the good things that happened today

1) Like every Sunday, I slept in until 8:30
2) Like every Sunday, Aaron made chocolate chip waffles
3) We went to church
4) We took naps
5) Dinner was excellent
6) It is 6:30pm and all of the children are asleep in their beds
7) My hair looked cute
8) Reese was spotlight in Primary
9) I expected to wake up with sore muscles, but did not.
10) Quincy gave a talk...sort of
11) All of my children have dedicated teachers that nurture them, prepare lessons, and teach them with love
12) Rocky Road ice cream
13) everyone is healthy
14) apple tarts and a visit with friends

I feel better already.

Five Alarm

There's nothing quite like a good middle-of-the-night kid vomit to make me really relish my position in the trenches of motherhood. Gross.

Don't be jealous.
It's good to be me, today.

What's black and white and red all over?

Of all weekends, it had to happen on Valentine's Day weekend.

Last Sunday:

I'm running out the door for church and am preeeety certain my team teacher had the primary lesson covered, but just in case, I grab the manual, and then look in the game closet to grab something quick that I could make a learning game from and entertain the kids in my class if I end up needing to burn time at the end, or something.

Aha! Jenga. Perfect.

Maybe the little guys could answer a question, or help repeat a scripture on their turn, or maybe we could just build something with the blocks.

I have had that Jenga game for like 10 years. We have played it a few times recently, but I didn't really pay attention.

Anyway...fast forward to Sacrament Meeting when Corbin takes the bag of Jenga blocks and DUMPS it on the floor. It makes a crazy loud crashing noise as all the blocks tumble from the bag and clunk onto the pile one at a time. I'm embarassed, but then all the blocks have been dumped and it's quiet again, and Corbin is playing happily (and more important, quietly) with the blocks, so we just let it go, since it isn't really distracting any more.

What IS disctacting is when he reaches up and hands a block to Aaron, who gasps and sort of shout-whispers to me "what IS this?!"

"What? Jenga. It's a game. I'm going to play it with my primary kids today" I hiss back.

He hands me the block.
It is red and says,

Ah!

What?!

Truth or Dare Jenga!

My sister, HolleeAnn gave it to me for a graduation present when I was 18! It was a joke, obviously, since I was headed off to school in Utah. We had laughed about how useful it would be at all those wild and crazy Mormon frat parties I'd be going to.

Aaron's like, "you can't play this with the primary kids! You'll get arrested!"

and Corbin hands me this one

Aaron laughs.
I die.

And then suddenly, I am very aware that we are in sitting in the middle of church and that SACRAMENT is being passed all around us and our naughty little game.

That our kids are playing with.

It's all hilariously irreverent....

wait.
What if someone sees this?
It is Valentine's Day.
We'd be known as that couple.
You know,

The ones with the sex game.
The ones with the sex game at CHURCH!
and that's when corbin starts THROWING the blocks and saying "choooooo!" He throws everything! I should have known.

I panic.
"Quick! clean them up! Only the red and black ones have writing on them! Put them back in the bag! Hurry!"

Corbin is having none of that. He couldn't have cared less what was written on those blocks. They were his, and we were not going to take them away. He starts screaming and pushing them everywhere in a little fit.

He sends one under the pew in front of us.

It's black. Crap.

The mom reaches for it, and all I can do is close my eyes and pray "please don't read that please don't read that please don't read that!"

Luckily, the 4 yr old beats the mom to it, and slides the block back under the pew to us, before she could notice it had anything written on it. Or at least I hope she didn't notice.

I pick it up and it says,

I'm dying.

This is it.

This is what it feels like to die.

By now, the girls have discovered the blocks-of-inappropriate-behavior and they are building grand estates for their squinkies with them. Little red and black Jenga blocks are speading like an oil spill across our pew and into the spaces around and under us! I can't keep track of them all! What if one gets left behind, or the people next to us see the block that says,

or how about

Are you kidding me?!

I can't stop sweating.

We have to get this cleaned up and out of here, like yesterday.

Aaron can't believe we even OWN this game and denies ever playing it when we were in college.

I'm pretty sure we played it once with Dave, Leisha, Kurt, Tessa, Keith, Arianne, Jen, Emily, Marissa, and Lance. In our defense: as a group of innocent/naive Single Mormon BYU coeds...it must not have gotten very interesting.

Because I am sure that if any of us had drawn

and done anything other than just gallop around the room like they were riding a horse

then we probably would have remembered the details of this game a little better.

Point: Facebook

I Confess:
The #1 reason I keep my facebook account active is so I can ask people to call me when I lose my phone. This happens at least once every two to three weeks.

I Confess:
Yeah, that last one is a lie. I solicit the help of Facebook friends to help me find my phone at least once every week. Sorry Friends.

Sometimes, buried treasure should just stay buried.

Tonight is our Relief Society meeting for home, family, and personal enrichment.

The theme is "buried treasure" and everyone is supposed to bring 5 things that represent our hidden talents.

At first, I was like, I LOVE this idea! It is always fun to learn new things about people you know really well, and it's a good opportunity to get to know some new girls that I don't get to talk to very often.

But hidden talents? I'm not really one to keep many things secret about myself, so this was a bit of a challenge. What are my hidden talents???

Um let's see...

1) being a lazy schlub (<---did you catch that, Angie?). I haven't washed my hair since Sunday. Sunday! And no, this isn't one of those blogs that I typed up 3 days ago and scheduled to post today. It's Thursday. So, I pretty much rock at being gross. It's the whole "don't wanna work out cuz then I have to get off my butt and go change into workout clothes" thing...but backwards. Don't wanna get dressed, cuz then I won't wanna go run with my night group after enrichment, tonight. Hidden talent? Maybe. Are my friends reading this? I'll be the one that shows up to enrichment tonight dressed like Sue Sylvester.

Don't sit too close to me. I stink.

2) Freak Magnet. This is a divine gift that I've been blessed with. They come to me in flocks. Old ladies want to tell me about their recent surgeries and difficulty urinating. If only I had one of those giant U shaped magnets to take tonight...I could stick the word "Freak" to it and call it good.

which leads to my next hidden talent:

3) writing about my run ins with the freaks on this here blog. It's good for a laugh, that's a hidden talent, right? The problem is that I'm supposed to bring something tangible that represents my buried treasures. Is there anything LESS tangible than a blog? I think not. Perhaps all of my blogging has been a waste of time...sort of like how you are feeling while reading this post. You'll never get those 5 minutes back. Sorry. There's still time, if you stop now, you can save yourself!

Ha. You're still reading. Who's the freak magnet, now suckahs?

4) The super powered nose. Both a curse and a blessing. Hidden Talent? I can sniff out a chocolate bar a mile away, man. My nose is awesome.

A few weeks ago, I went to my friend, Tia's, and when she opened her front door, I said, "are you cooking rice?"
I was still outside and I could smell rice cooking in her kitchen.
Unfortunately, I can also smell a fart from a mile away. And I am totally aware of how bad I smell right now. (see talent #1)
But you don't have to have a super powered nose to smell that.

5) speaking of farts...(yes, really. I warned you to just stop reading. You didn't listen.)I should just take a bag of beans tonight for my "talent". My friend, Hillary, calls me the "bean whisperer" because of all my bean recipes...at least I THINK it's because of my bean recipes, but the name "bean whisperer" is probably because she's been running with me before, and she didn't have any music to drown out my my sound effects.

There.
Do you feel like you know me better?
What? Too much?

I so don't have any friends left.

So those are my five "buried treasures".
What are yours?

Orderly Conduct

When Reese was struggling with the adjustment to Kindergarten and having to be ready to leave the house at 6:40am (yup. School starts so early here. Cruel, isn't it?), fully loaded tantrums were blowing up in our house on a daily basis. It was rough. Even when we picked out clothes the night before, we still ended up with a problem in the morning, when Reese would change her mind and not want to wear the outfit she'd selected and demand her share (and a half) of our attention while we helped her pick something else out. I know that the problem was not actually the clothes, but getting dressed always seemed to be the thing that pushed Reese's morning anxiety into panic attacks and ugly temper tantrums. Reese was also always wanting to wear the same thing every day. Once she'd get over the discomfort of an outfit, she didn't want to change and readjust to something else. Call me uptight, but I'm not going to let my kid wear the same outfit to school, every day, for a week.
My sister, HolleeAnn (hollah!) gave me this fantastic idea that was the perfect solution to abolish morning outfit drama.



A closet shoe hanger!

There are two shown, here, because the solution worked so well, we went out and got one for Quincy. (and for those who know how bad my OCD is, YES. It totally drives me crazy that they are different sizes. The product changed in the 3 weeks between when we bought the first and when we bought the 2nd. Oh well. Aren't you proud of me for just letting it go? You'll also notice that I didn't go through and fold all the little outfits before taking this picture just so it would appear that I live a June Cleaver lifestyle. I did pick the apple core up off the carpet before I snapped the picture. Keepin' it real, folks.)

Anyway, On Sunday Night, Reese and I select her outfits for the week, and put one in each "cubby" of the shoe holder. Everything. Socks, underwear, jacket, hairbows, sometimes even shoes. In the morning, she can choose which outfit she would like to wear that day. We've had a few problems come up, usually on Fridays, when there was only one option left, or on a PE day when Reese's selected outfit didn't include PE friendly shoes. Also, Quincy still manages to work in at least one costume change every day. But, for the most part, our routine morning clothing drama is gone!

And now, there is a lot more room in the dressers, so we can actually see what is in them.
Works for us.
Thanks, HolleeAnn!