feeling green around the gills

setting:  1st grade St. Patrick's Day party

responsibility:  cookie decorating station

Here's your "Sprinkles gone wild"

And your "Double Decker"

And then you've got the

"blow air into your empty drink pouch and tell everyone it's full"

Does it ever lose it's funny?

Who doesn't love green jello?  Oh yeah.  Me.

One cutie tipped it upside down into the palm of his hand.

Tasty.

I don't have anything to say about this.

Or this.

Little girls know how to do it gracefully.

Little boys, not so much.

I hope you all found your own sort of green today . . . one way or another.

half cooked hotdog = heaven

I planned out a wonderful meal for family night - whole wheat penne pasta, apple gouda sausage, fresh french bread . . . and then our neighbor called.  He was on his way over, chainsaw in hand, to take down two trees I'd been complaining about.  We donned our work clothes and headed out to work alongside him.  As we carved the trunks into perfect logs my soul longed for a summer cookout.  I left my men to the work and ran to the nearest grocer.  Hot dogs, buns, chips, marshmallows, drinks, self checkout, record time.

The smoke swirled up from the fire pit as we set up our camp chairs.  Plates, napkins and utensils were banned from our festivities.  One hand in the chip bag while the other roasted hotdogs over the crackling wood.  

"Mom, my hot dog is on fire."

"Mom, my stick isn't long enough." 

"Mom, my leg hairs are being singed."

"Mom, please pass the chips."

"Mom, I need ketchup and mustard."

"Mama, where is my hotdog?"

When everyone had enough food to keep them busy I speared a hotdog for myself.  Black and bubbly on one side, slightly warmed on the other, too hungry to care.  It tasted divine. 

And then the marshmallows.  Perfectly golden, soft and gooey, melt in your mouth.  Each last one cooked to perfection.

As we scrubbed the campfire from our children's hair that night I was giddy with the promise of summer.  

"Everything is right with the world," I said to no one in particular.  "Everything is right with the world."

Check this kid out

He came up with the title of his blog:

I LoVe MYself

Even in the face of Autism . . . 

he sees his greatness.

We could all stand to see our deficits a little less 

and celebrate our strengths a little more.

He should be writing greeting cards

Around the breakfast table

Matt:  "Mom, have you ever tried mixing all four flavors of mini wheats together?"

Me:  "Um, no sweetheart.  I haven't."

wiggle Nick's loose tooth

it begins to bleed

Allie starts screaming that she doesn't want her teeth to fall out

this sends Nick into his high pitched autistic scream

Allie running around the table

yelling "Do you want a piece of me?"

Matt leaves to practice piano furiously

seeing as how his piano lesson is only hours away

Brayden:  "Should I talk to the guys today and see what snacks they want for the party?"

Me:  "We're not taking food orders for your birthday party Brayden."

Nick:  "Do leprechauns have skin?"

Me:  "Do Lego Guns have skin?  What?"

Matt:  (translating)  "No mom.  Leprechauns."

Ask the big boys to wash their hands and clean out the dishwasher.  Watch boys scrub with antibacterial soap. One sticks his wet finger up his nose and then proceeds towards the dishwasher.

Dog walks past with two of Allie's favorite stuffed animals lodged tightly between his jaws.

Breakfast cereal dust being poured from bottom of bag all over table.  

Cereal must be eaten from a toy spoon that holds only one honey nut cheerio at a time.

Nick: (exiting bathroom)  "Mom, is the guy that's coming to look at our microwave going to fix our toilet too?"

oh boy

jackets, backpacks, kisses atop newly combed hair 

as they're shuffled out the door.

return to cereal dust and toilets

still wondering about lego guns, leprechauns and skin.

Complicated

They beg to play

from the moment their eyes flutter open.

They meet at the corner in all their royal glory,

donned in their picture perfect gowns.

They are princesses, queens, mothers,

babies, wives, store keepers, kittens.

And then something goes wrong.

The queen turns into a wicked stepmother,

the baby into a belligerent child.

They bring each other to tears,

throwing about mean words and crowns

until they are swept home by the highest royalties of all.

They eat, they sleep, they wake, they beg

to be reunited.

He has forgotten to feed the cat

for the past month.  

I pulled him out of class today 

so he could pour a cup of food 

into the cat's bowl

It brought back memories

my mom came in curlers

It's 9:00 a.m.

and she's still asleep.  

She woke up at 3:30 a.m. 

and didn't fall back to sleep until 6:30.  

As I peek in at her it's hard to be upset.  

She's sleeping soundly beneath her polka dot quilt, 

her face hidden beneath my night shirt.  

A discovery born out of desperation when she was an infant.  She would wake in the night and I would give her the shirt I was wearing.  She would grasp it's warmth to her, snuggle her face into it's folds and fall quickly back to sleep. 

Four years later 

and she's still comforted 

by the warmth and smell of her mother.  

How could I be upset over a few hours of lost sleep ~

Announcing

Mr. Matt

To welcome him to the world of blogging 

 click here.

To follow his big brother, Brayden, 

click here.

"Mama, please lay with me."

A day comforting a sick child

is a day well spent.

They are so cuddly

and sweet

and appreciative.

And you get to read countless numbers of books

and watch all those little girl movies that

big brothers always veto.

And you both get to wear your pajamas all day.

Dysfunctional Reading

When I was a kid I would spend entire days with my nose in a book.  No showering, dressing or even brushing my teeth.  Fitting a meal in was an absolute chore.  A trip to the public library?  Utter and complete heaven! I know. If you had known me in my childhood days you would have called me a geek.  I'm comfortable with that.

As an adult, my reading habits haven't changed.  That's a problem when you've got four kids, a dog and a household to run.  I often compensate by staying up until 3:00 a.m. to get my uninterrupted reading time. I admit there are still days that I don't make it out of my p.j.s in sacrifice of a good book.  My latest?

Luckily I was sick in bed as I read this goody.  That means Brandon wasn't too shocked or disappointed at the state of our home or the children when he walked through the door in the evenings.

Other great books as of late?  "Richistan" by Robert Frank (thanks Matt).  "Marley and Me" by John Grogan. (Unfortunately you'll be picturing Owen and Jennifer when you read the book now but it is a great book.  It will make you fall in love with you pup all over again.  It saved Murphy from the classifieds last fall.)  I've just started "The Lost, a search for six of six million" by Daniel Mendelsohn (thanks Tim and Beck).

So here's the bad news.  Dysfunctional Reading seems to be hereditary.  Brayden worked his way through a 7 book series in 2 weeks.  Back to the library in search of a new series . . . again.  

Matt has been caught staying up until 11:30 reading his latest book.  This morning he was cuddled into a chair pouring over the final few chapters, in his pajamas . . . while he should have been eating and throwing on his backpack.

Oh boy.  

And so my day began ~

12:00 a.m.  

climb into bed

12:30 a.m.  

fetch water for youngest

1:00 a.m.   

let dog out to do his duty

1:15 a.m.   

dog barking wildly, won't come in . . . fearful he'll wake up neighbors

6:00 a.m.  

Bo to Bishopric meetings

7:00 a.m.  

wake from nightmare to see offspring eating valentine candy at foot of bed

7:30 a.m.  

receive belated valentine's card from son with the "f" word in it. that's right. fart

8:00 a.m.  

four year old announces she won't wear newly purchased Sunday outfit

8:15 a.m.  

booger on Nick's back.  older son claims accidental sneeze.  Nick says otherwise.

8:30 a.m.  

shuffle into church in middle of opening song.  sit on front row

8:30 a.m. - 11:30 a.m.   

hold eyelids open manually

12:15 p.m.  

a visit from R.S. presidency

12:45 p.m.  

power nap

1:30 p.m.  

watch Madagascar II with kids and eat entire package of Oreos

3:30 p.m.  

visit from close friends.  homemade granola, plates ~ perfect color of blue, Viactive

5:00 p.m.  

monthly b-day celebration at grandma & grandpa's

6:00 p.m.  

sing Happy Birthday four times

7:00 p.m.  

retro apron, fabulous cheese, spending money for something frivolous, breathtaking photo

8:00 p.m.  

bask in chaos of family, smile to self 

9:00 p.m.  

round up shoes, divvy out hugs, pile into minivan

10:00 p.m. 

wipe off little chocolaty faces, say prayers, give thanks

another sunday

another birthday 

Where it's at

Happy Valentine's Day 

to the four little monkeys 

that climb into bed with me 

each morning 

and to the good looking guy

who cuddles me back in 

at the end of each day.

Waiting on the World to Change

My oldest son's life is complicated.  I'm not at liberty to share his struggles but I will say that he is one of the strongest people I have ever known. 

Today he stood in front of the entire 6th grade, their parents and the faculty and lip synced 

"Waiting on the World to Change" by John Mayer.  

Brandon and I stood in awe with tears streaming down our faces. 

"Me and all my friends

We're all misunderstood

They say we stand for nothing

And there's no way we ever could

Now we see everything that's going wrong

With the world and those who lead it

We just feel like we don't have the means

To rise above and beat it

So we keep waiting

(waiting)

Waiting on the world to change

We keep on waiting

(waiting)

Waiting on the world to change

One day our generation

Is gonna rule the population

So we keep waiting

(waiting)

Waiting on the world to change

Brayden, after seeing you today there is no doubt that you will be one to Change the World.