Ode to Monsieur Kenmore Dryer

"Let me so live that when I die

A tear will come to every eye

And all will bow their heads and sigh

I sorta wish she hadn't died."

Christmas Eve 1999 my dryer died. We hurried over to Sears and got the BIGGEST Capacity dryer they made...I only had 6 children at the time (dontcha love that I said "I ONLY had 6 children at the time" lol--I crack myself up sometimes)...so my Christmas present that year was indeed, a household appliance. But I was happy. Modern appliances have that affect on me.

Well, Monsieur Kenmore suffered a slow death. He had good days and bad days. A mountain of laundry accrued over the last weekend because of the slow demise of Mons. Kenmore that I'd had enough and "called it"...time of death 9:30am, Wednesday. I went to my favorite appliance store here in the Springs, Dupree Appliance. They sell refurbished appliances and have an impeccable reputation for service and prices.

The delivery guys seemed to sense my sadness as they girded up the 'ol boy to the dolly. I looked over at Kenmore and sighed..."thank you my friend. you lived a good useful life. heaven knows you did your best to serve us with all your wires and vents. go in peace."

Then they hauled Kenmore away just like that. He came in the way he went...thru the front door.

The new Kenmore is the identical model, I am not kidding. Hey, I know what I like. So I loaded the new guy up with a duvet cover and sheets and there was joy and rejoicing in the laundry room!

YES! I can hear the low tumbling sound of the new guy..he is so hawt...I love clean laundry, don't you?

Lost this Battle to Win the War!

I surrendered today. Waved the white flag of defeat. There was no other choice if I wanted to win the battle at hand.

I'm a mean Mom...yeah, one of those. I have made my sons wear collared shirts to school for years. Even when they didn't want to--because, as I always told them, they're "Nice boys" and "nice boys wear collared shirts to school."

But the youngest, Master Boofus, has protested collared shirts for the past several months--actually ever since he got this way "cool" male teacher this year who wears a puka-shell- necklace, has a tattoo on his ring finger and wears ultra-GQ styles that do not include collared shirts.
I know. I know.

This morning a battle erupted. There were only collared shirts hanging in Boofus' closet. He had been sneakily wearing t-shirts lately to school that he knew he could get away with wearing because they're nice shirts..but none of those were left. There was weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth at the now-named "Dork" shirts hanging up. The battle got ugly, hit a climax and then as the dust settled, apologies were offered and a compromise was met.

I won't force him to wear shirts that he feels self-conscious in anymore. He may choose for himself if he wants to wear collared-shirts to school. I'm hoping this disdain for collared shirts dissappears once he has a different teacher next year--truthfully, he has never minded before...so I'm thinkin' it's a situational conflict that will morph into nothingness next year.

Boofus said, "I'll wear my nice boy shirts on the first day of school, so the teacher knows I'm a nice boy. And on the last day of school (this year) so my teacher NOW knows I'm still nice."

"You are a nice boy. I'm sure your teacher knows that already." I say. It's true.

So I surrender the battle for collared shirts in order to preserve a boys' confidence.

Anybody know how to re-use a dozen collared shirts? A handbag? Apron? tote? Oh wait, I can tie them onto a stick and wave it in the air like a true surrender flag. So appropriate. Haven't seen anything like that on Etsy. Because in the end what matters isn't the shirt. It's the Boy.

Me? A Featured Writer on Divine Caroline??

I just got an email from Divine Caroline saying a true life story I submitted months ago is being featured on their website...how cool is that?!

So here's the link...http://www.divinecaroline.com/article/22326/56602-runnin--nekkid-high-school

Comments are Welcomed there too!

New Girl in Town!

Remember I told you I would be busy on Saturday? It was a hard secret to keep, but we told the kids we had a surprise but we had to go to Denver for it. The kids don't like going to Denver. So we had to convince them it would be worth the trip. We bribed them with candy from the corner store before left the Springs. We told them we'd make a special stop at the Bass Pro Shop up there--it's huge, so they stopped whining. Then, we met the Puppy Guy there who drove down from Nebraska with a truck full of puppies for our picking. The kids didn't suspect a thing until the guy opened the back of the truck and we said, "Surprise! Let's Pick One!" Their eyes widened, mouths dropped open and then it got really fun! Each of the kids found a "favorite"...we had to tell them "Just One!" This is Dakota--or Kota. She is 7 weeks old. AKC female black lab. And she is fuzzy and fluffy and has puppy breath.

When she isn't eating, this is what she does.

Except at night. I was up with her every 25 minutes last night. We're crate-training her. Just a couple more sleepless nights and she'll be fine.
She has no idea that we're going to make her a hunting dog and a hiking dog...it's just as well for now...we'll let her sleep when she's tired and fatten her up so she'll grow strong.

That look right there is why we chose her out of the whole litter...she looked right into our eyes when we spoke to her. We think she may be a Genius Dog. We're pretty sure of it. No more dog-stalking for me...I've got my own little girl to keep me company.

When God Made....
When God had made the Earth and sky, The flowers and the trees,
He then made all the animals And all the birds and bees.
And when his work was finished, Not one was quite the same.
He said, 'I'll walk this earth of mine, And give each one a name,'
And so he travelled land and sea, And everywhere he went,
A little creature followed Him Until his strength was spent.
And when all were named upon the Earth, And in the sky and sea,
The little creature said,'Dear Lord, There's not one left for me!'
The Father smiled and softly said: 'I've left you till the end.
I've turned my own name back to front, And called you DOG, my friend.

I'll Take Proper Pronunciation for 500, Alex.

Quiznos.

Should be pronounced: Qweh- ZEE-NOZ.

I think that was the Original Pronunciation but some PR Marketing Group messed up and the fledgling company couldn't afford to pay them for the correction so it stuck with Qwez-Noz.

Makes so much more sense the other way...as in Cuisine-O's...right??!

Before I lived there, I pronounced it Boy-Zee. BAHHHHHMP. The correct way to say it, according to natives is: Boy-See. Actually, it's a french-derived word meaning, "woods"...les bois.

Okay, what do you call this? Sal-Sah or Sal-Zah? I'm just asking because I really don't know. I call it salsa just like it's spelled on the jar. How about you?

Go Ahead! Nominate Your SELF!

Over at the Mormon Mommy Blogs, they're having their regular Blog Spotlight Award...where the prize is having more exposure for the winner's blog. I'm relatively new in blogland...I've noted the previous winners, ya know, by checking out their sites and all.
From what I can tell, the winner's blogs are first-rate and have alot going on!

This month the MMB ladies are encouraging their readers to Nominate Themselves--and I peeked over and sure enough, there are loads of brave women doing just that--nominating themselves!

I couldn't. Ever. Do. That.

Here's why:

When I was in 8th grade at South Sumter Middle School in Florida, I ran for class President.
Having just moved there the previous spring, I was anxious to get involved with the school and I really really wanted to be Class President. SO I tossed my hat in the ring with as much gusto as I possessed. I got a campaign manager and together we made posters, and buttons and badges...I smiled my best smile at potential voters in the halls...which for me, a very shy girl, was a big step! For 2 weeks, I campaigned and thought carefully about the Student Body's needs and the big SPEECH that each candidate would get to make at the end of the week's Voting Rally.
This was just after the Nixon era...the words "And I am not a Crook" were well-known thru the media...it was everywhere. (For those born 20-30 years ago--President Richard M. Nixon was impeached from office for a huge scandal called "Watergate"--check out wikipedia for more info).
ANYWHO...I wanted to emphasize my personal honesty as I had seen other politicians do on TV and such. Remember, there was no such thing as the Worldwide Web. So I got down to business and wrote my speech with purpose, clarity and passion. I worked on it for at least an hour...which you know for a teenager is like 6 adult hours! "I will work hard on my duties as class president; I will listen to my fellow students and they could count on me! "

So Friday came--the big Voting Rally was held in the Cafeteria. I'd been told that candidates could not READ their speeches--so I worked hard to memorize mine.
We all sat on stage at a long table. I looked over my competition...most were strangers to me since I was a new kid.
I was unaffected...I just KNEW I would win!
I was the second to go. As the first candidate spoke, I noticed he was reading his speech! Ah HA!-- I thought, no way he's going to win! He broke rule number one! Then, I stood up at the mike and looked out into the huge cafeteria. My confident voice got stuck in neutral somewhere in my throat. My hands trembled. My knees knocked. I would've cried, but I ain't no sissy. I'd rather die than cry in school! So in my not-so-strong-voice, I recited my speech by memory. I don't recall if anyone clapped...I was numb looking out at so many strangers.
What I do remember is the next candidate...a popular girl. A Cheerleader on our team--yes, I was a cheerleader too(mainly cuz I could do a straddle split!--oh long-gone are those days!)...but she was our Captain and she was bubbly and cute and laughed at her mistakes and promised a Pop Machine in the Cafeteria if she was elected.
The rest of the day was painfully long as we awaited the results to be given over the PA system.
Finally, it was announced that Cheerleader Captain won. I was crushed. I later found out that even my campaign manager voted for her because of the Pop Machine. I couldn't blame her. I wanted a pop machine too.
So that is my one attempt to nominate myself for anything.
But, hey! If you're feeling confident and bubbly and can laugh at your own guffaws and feel YOUR blog appeals to the masses...go ahead! Nominate Your Self!

Mormon Mommy Blogs April Giveaway

MMB's are having a great giveaway. Go here to check it all out!
http://mormonmommyblogs.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-giveaway.html

I am MY Habits

I’m on Day Three of my Santa Fe Walking Goal. Had it not been for a phone call from a gal who said she “might” meet me there this morning, let me just say, I probably would’ve slacked off. I didn’t sleep well last night, so it was a rough morning forcing myself outta bed, getting the kids off to school and then knowing I had to go to the trail in case this gal was there. My body was craving warm covers and sleep.
But I went. And she never showed up. And I walked my bahooey off again…I can feel my leg muscles again. And my bum muscles are starting to burn after being flattened for the winter months as I sat here at the pc trying to be clever and relevant in blogland.
Once I got my bahooey moving, it was so worth it. As I was coming off the trail I thought, “I am my habits. Good or bad, it’s who I am.” It was so good to get to the car and know I am changing my habits for the better. What a sense of accomplishment!
SO I got home and googled “How to Change Habits”…I came across some info that further cements my desire for change. But before I get to that, let me tell you there were several dogs on the trail this morning…a black lab, 4 goldens, several little yippy dogs ( I don’t know what breed), and a bichon frise. (did I spell that one right?) It’s no secret I am seriously a dog stalker. So, here’s a little insight into what my Saturday will involve…shhhh don't tell the kids.

Ok and back to the articles.. the 1st is from a talk by Marvin K. Ashton, citing an experience he had with habits:

“I am acquainted with a wife and mother who is chained securely at the present time to a life-style of murmuring and criticism. She is the first to point out faults in her husband or to repeat neighborhood gossip. How damaging is a habit that permits fault-finding, character assassination, and the sharing of malicious rumors! Gossip and caustic comments often create chains of contention. These chains may appear to be very small, but what misery and woe they can cause!”

That example hit a nerve on me…reminding me how powerful my sphere of influence and words can be.

More of his counsel:

To change or break some of our chains even in a small way means to give up some behavior or habits that have been very important to us in the past. Generally this is frightening. Change involves risks. “How will people react and respond to me if I change and am different?” Even if our present way of life is painful and self-destructive, some of us think it serves a purpose, and so we become comfortable with it.
Every worthy change means risk—the risk of losing an old and damaging habit for a new and improved way of life.
If fear and an unwillingness to take the risk and challenge of the better way of life gain the upper hand, we will not be able to change. Shakespeare in Measure for Measure says it this way: “Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt” (act 1, scene 4).
This catchy couplet fits so many of us. “Procrastination is a silly thing, it only brings me sorrow, but I can change at any time! I think I will—tomorrow!”
Shaking off restrictive chains requires action. They cannot be wished away. A declaration will never break chains. It requires commitment, self-discipline, and work.
Chains weigh heavily on troubled hearts and souls. They relegate us to lives of no purpose or light. They cause us to become confused and lose the spirit. We need to arise from the dust and enjoy the fresh air of righteousness. We need to move forward in patience, understanding, love, and never-ending commitment.

I also came across this article that I think is practical…you can hit the link and go check it out!
http://ezinearticles.com/?5-Steps-To-Change-Any-Habit&id=878559


And finally, here’s a bit from another article that was helpful as I seek to change habits for the better and become the Master of my Self:

It Takes 21 Days To Break A Bad Habit--To begin with, choose one unhealthy habit you wish to eliminate or change. Or, choose a healthy habit you want to adopt as part of your behavior. If it is a habit to eliminate, you may wish to go "cold turkey" or have a gradual tapering off. Caution: If it is a drug or chemical habit you are planning on eliminating, be sure to obtain an expert's opinion as to whether you need to taper off usage as opposed to quitting cold turkey.
Now that you have decided which unhealthy habit to eliminate, or new habit to adopt, decide on the date you will begin your behavior change. Give this date a good deal of thought and then write it down. For example, "On February 15, 2001, I will become a non-smoker."
In order to ensure behavior change, experts agree that it takes a minimum of 21 days to change a behavior. Again, look at the date you are planning on changing your habit. Count ahead 21 days and mark that date down. Now, make a commitment that you will follow your plan for 21 days.
http://www.francesfarmersrevenge.com/stuff/archive/oldnews6/habit.htm

So that’s my little discovery on the Santa Fe trail today….happy trails everyone!

Walkin My Bahooey Off

So this is right by the Entrance of the US Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. It's not the trailhead--it's somewhere in the middle. The little map nailed to the right side shows the Entire Trail-- it ends north in Wyoming and goes to the very bottom of Colorado. It's not a trail you can do in a day unless you have superpowers. Which, I don't.
This is it. It accomodates hikers, bikers, horseback riders, dogs...and whatever else feels the need for some sunshine and miles.

The parking lot...it's always full...but because the trail is so huge, you hardly see more than a few people at a time...everyone is going a different direction. The snow-covered mountain in the back is Pike's Peak.

I chuckled at this post on the trail...it says why there are no bison in these parts anymore...basically b/c pioneers ate them...like they had a choice to go to the McD's a half mile away or eat bison...

Just a mile marker....not sure where the 47 miles comes in...cuz we are more than 47 miles from the bottom of the trail and more than 47 miles from Wyoming. I will investigate this further and get back to you.

The trail looking North to the Monument range. Colorado Springs is considered an "Alpine Desert"...of course this will green up once summer is here.

And that's my walk today. It was therapeutic actually. I'm grateful it's just a stone's throw from our backdoor. And I'm gettin' a tan too...can't beat that with a stick!
P.S. There were 2 dogs on the trail today...a Burmese Mountain dog...gorgeous! And a light honey-colored Golden Retriever! Be still my heart!!!

I'm a Walkin' tha Santa Fe Trail!

So I started walking the Santa Fe Trail today...I think I did a couple of miles. My humongous bahooey needs to be less humongous, if you know what I mean?!

My ultimate goal is to walk it every stinkin' day...we'll see if I get to that...the weather here can still hamper my goal for another month or two, but I have to say, I loved my walk this morning.

Nana, my 18 yo soon-to-be-high-school-graduate, walked with me...making the time fly by as my bahooey warmed up and got into gear. The sky was a perfect blue sky against by beautiful Rocky Mountains. Have I told you I love Colorado Springs? I do. I plan on getting much older here, much grayer and lots more wrinkles before I ever leave. I love it. Even though I was sucking wind--it was clean wind.

Nana chewed my ear off as we walked...did you know 18 year olds have more to say than you can possibly imagine? And they have OPINIONS on EVERYTHING!

I asked her ONE question, and that was enough to keep her talking for a good 20 minutes!!

Oh, the question? "What have you learned this year?"

So tomorrow, I am gonna take the camera and snap some pics of my walk-- so I'm not lonely, on account of Mr W still not giving the thumbs up on a dog. I have dog envy. When I saw other dogs on the trail today, I tried to figure out how I could get a dog without Mr W's input or dissapproval. Maybe a small pooch would suffice, I thought. Nahhhh. I want a big ol Golden or a Lab...who doesn't love those?? seriously.

I want a dog to walk with me on the Santa Fe trail.

Kinda sounds like a country song, doesn't it?? Carrie Underwood could really pull that off...so well you could cry.

Yeah, I want a big ol slobbery hikin dog.

What's the Best Part of Your Day?

So about 10 years ago, we started a routine at dinner time. I actually started it to get my teenagers to open up and talk a little when they were at the age of grunts, groans and eye-ball rolling. I'm sure noone else on the planet has those types of teens, but I did and this was my wicked plan to get them to say more than "fine" when I asked how they were doing.

So this is how it goes:

We start at one end of the table and go around. Someone asks the Question:

"WHAT WAS THE BEST PART OF YOUR DAY?"

This cannot be a simple yes or no--see that?? And sometimes, because they were "rotten teenagers" (a term of affection in our house), the answers were oft times cynical, sarcastic, and/or ridiculous...but, 10 years later, we're still doing it. And the little ones love it! They can't wait for their turn!

There was anoother question we asked: "What was the Worst Part of your Day?"--but that added alot more negativity than I wanted to deal with at the dinner table...so we dropped that question.

Hey, pick your battles and mark your strategies, you know?

So anyway, it seems benign at first glance, but it really did and does continue to be part of our nightly dinner conversations.

What do YOU do at dinner time to make it more fun?

What is a Moon Pie?

Growing up in the South, I am well-acquainted with one of mankind's greatest gourmet treasures...


Moon Pies. Delicious graham-cracker cookies with marshmallow center, covered in your choice of chocolate or banana coating. My mouth is watering just thinking about them. When we lived in Spartanburg, SC, there was a Moon-Pie bakery in town...so that occassionally, you could go buy a moon-pie that was still warm...oh. my.goodness. Melt-in-your-mouth-heaven.





We get them out here in Colorado--but [shaking head] they are not even close to being as perfectly delicious, so I can't bring myself to buy them. When I see them sitting on a treat shelf, it feels like they're taunting me, teasing me with their fakey goodness. When I forget how dissappointed I've been in the past, I buy another one and THEN! I remember why I don't buy them.





Also in the South...Nehi drinks. Anyone know those? Grape was my favorite. And White Castle little burgers. I had some tiny burgers at Ruby Tuesday recently, and they reminded me of WC burgers. How about hush-puppies? Not the shoes, the little cornmeal biscuit things? Anyone?


I tasted my first Krispy Kreme doughnut in Spartanburg in 1989. Thought I'd died and gone to sugar heaven. And just one was enough to fill you up. I heard Krispy Kreme had to close a lot of their franchises because of different diets and then the economy. When we left Colorado Springs 3 years ago, there was one KK here in town...when it opened there were lines around the block --I AM NOT KIDDING!-- just to get in...and when we came back last year it was closed. My fellow citizens of Colorado Springs let me down. How could they let KK go into extinction?



Can you tell dinner was several hours ago and I'm feeling peckish?


So, what are some foods that you crave regionally either now or from the past?

Flat Stanley's friend, Flat Abi

Its another Snow day here in Colorado Springs....luckily we have a guest to keep us entertained.

You've heard of Flat Stanley, no doubt. This is his friend, our Cousin from Bowersville, Georgia, Flat Abi.

The Caboose is showing Flat Abi what a Colorado Spring snowstorm is all about--building a snowman!

Boofus helped her make pizza for dinner!

As you can see, she is so darn cute with her long red hair!

Because she's from Georgia,
if she could talk, she would say, "Hey, Ya'll!"--cuz that's what a georgia-peach says...and things like, "Ain't that precious?" and "Ya'll want a moon-pie?"

We just love southern belles around here. And moon-pies. If you've never had a freshly made moon-pie--they arrive in the stores STILL WARM...well, you haven't lived, and that's a fact.

Flat Abi also helped Nana practice piano.

I think we're up to about 8-12 inches already...and it's still coming down.

We have alot planned for Flat Abi over the next few days...once we can get out of the neighborhood!

Morning Sickness and the Hokey-Pokey

"you put the food right in,

you puke the food right out,

you put the food right in,

and you shake it all about,

you do the hokey-pokey,

and you turn your insides out,

that's what morning sickness is all about!"

Yesterday morning as I dropped off the kids at school and was having visions of folding the 3 loads of laundry that have been gnawing at me, waiting for me to fold-- the phone rang.

It was a very pathetic sounding Dani (8 weeks pg)..."Mommm, I haven't been able to keep anything down for 24 hours. [heavy breath] What can I do?" My Doula training kicks in and says to her, "You need to stay hydrated. Can you keep liquids down?" "No." Then I go down my checklist of things I would normally advise clients.

Then, my Mommy training kicks in...I look at the clock. It's 8:43am...Lakewood is an hour and 20 minutes from me. "Im coming up there. I'll see you in a bit." I could hear the relief in her voice.

I called my wonderful Midwife and friend, Dottie to get more information, shower and head up there.

I've been pregnant a few times; I'm acquainted with morning sickness--which in one case was all day sickness--so empathy comes easy. I know that green, fatigue-y, bleck feeling that washes over like a warm wave of goo.

I headed up there as quickly as I could.

When Dani opened the door, we both felt better. I needed to get my eyes on her...you know what I mean? Just needed to see her and hug her and check her out. She looked pale and weak, but she was smiling that smile I love so much.

I loved on her and went over the new instructions for Hyper-emesis...which this could easily turn into, tho I am confident is not yet.

So I am passing this along to you, dear readers, in the hopes that you or someone you love might benefit:

* Don't eat and drink at the same time. Eat first then drink 30 minutes-1 hour later. Listen to your body. If you've eaten a small amount, then you may drink sooner.

* Have 6 smaller meals than 3 regular meals...more protein than carbs, while you're pukey.

* Graze all day long. Keep it simple though.

* No white sugar or White flour.

* Meals need to be protein-based.

* Drink a protein shake before bedtime and have protein during the night. That means you will have to get up (if nausea hasn't woken you already) and eat a peice of cheese with crackers, or something similar OR drink a protein shake.

* Before you put your feet on the ground in the morning, have some more protein.

* Before BEDTIME, take your prenatals as well as extra B-6 (25 mg).

* Remember that this is NOT the Flu--you need to stay hydrated and even if you barf, you need to continue to take sips of fluids all day long.

And finally, make sure your care provider knows how you're feeling! Don't think you have to suffer in silence.

I spoke to Dani this morning. She did exactly what I advised her to do and is feeling much better. No more puking! She said the protein shakes stayed down, and she even has had some bites of cheese, a banana and a few bites of stew that Mr. Idaho made for dinner. Most importantly, she sounds better. And like the hokey-pokey, that's what it's all about!

*What about you? What worked for your morning sickness blahs?

P.S. I am a Guest-Post-Blogger-Person over at Light Refreshments Served today...go check them out!! Thx to Chelsea for the invitation.

"Hey Mom, Can I Go Flying with Pilot Boy on Saturday?"

Nana is dating a new young man these days. He used to live kitty-corner from us for 7 years--Dean even helped him and his dad landscape a mini-golf-course in their backyard--he and Nana went to the same schools at the same time, in the same grade--and they just met last weekend at a mutual friends' house. How strange is that?!

I know enough about him to fill a thimble: He seems nice enough.He has good manners. He's always smiling...not pouting or angst-ish like alot of teenage boys I have met. He's a runner. He's heading to CU-Boulder in the Fall on a full-ride scholarship. He's an only child-- which makes me wonder what he thinks when he comes over here to the Revolving Door Nuthouse?

Kids runnin' in and out, laughing, squealing, fussin' and fightin', hormones-raging-house-full-of teenage-girls?? Is he a glutton for punishment? Or does he, as most people do, leave this house feeling better about his own life??

Anywho-- I will call him "Pilot boy" to save him from future embarrassment /psychological trauma...and save myself from any possible law suit.

As Nana and Pilot boy stood in the kitchen yesterday, chatting about nothing, Diana says, in her most casual-toned voice, "Hey Mommmm, Um, can I go flying with [Pilot Boy] on Saturday up in Denver?" Which, in her mind sounded like she was asking if she could go have a slice of pizza with him--

BUT TO ME, sounded alot like, "Can I hitch a ride to the moon with an 18 yo little boy that I do not even know if he can tie his shoes or wipe his own nose but I trust to safely take me to the moon and back?"

Caught off guard, I said :" I worry about you driving around town with him and now you want to FLY. in a PLANE. OFF THE GROUND. NEAR MOUNTAINS?! (with a boy I just met let's see...1,2, 3 days ago??) Uh...can I uh...well, I'm uh, gonna need more information first. (THINK, THINK!!) Like, uh, who else is going to be in that plane with you two? And uh, stuff like that."

I couldn't think of the other questions to ask, altho there MUST be something else I need to know.

Pilot Boy smiled & very maturely said he'd answer any questions. I think he may be smarter than me. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it. I KNOW for a fact, that CU-Boulder would not offer me a full-ride anything. They might let me scrub their chalkboards, but that'd be it. It kinda freaks me out that my Nana is dating someone smarter than me. I have to ask myself which way I'm going when I pull out of the driveway! I cannot conceive piloting an airplane--there are no street signs in the clouds...I'd aim for Utah and wind up in Denmark!

So Pilot Boy has his license...he got it from the Air Force Academy...he's 18 years old and flies...

Nana is 18 and doesn't have her driver's license! Mr W says smart boys like cute girls and he's a classic example of that...it took me a minute to figure out he was saying I'm cute. Yeah, I smacked him.

I've got 3 more days to decide if I trust all that is in heaven to take care of my Nana while she is a passenger in a plane of a Pilot Boy. Why can't he just take her to Prom like regular boys?

Weekend Wonderings

What I Did over Easter Weekend in 175 (+/-) words or Less:

Friday night, Dean came home with Kent. YEA!

Dyed Eggs. Snow.

Saturday morning. Easter Bunny left baskets. Kids up at 6AM!! Ugh.

Breakfast minus the Missionaries. Weird. Missed them!

Dani & Mr. Idaho came down. Morning sickness her. Hungry him.

Diana new boyfriend. Nice. Blonde. Tall. Catholic. Smart.

Cooked. Saturday dinner. Tostadas.

Played Games.

SNOW!

Sunday. Easter Program. Long.

Taught Primary kids. Hopped-up on Sugar. Silly.

Cooked. Ham. Devilled Eggs (Dean's Fav). Trifle.

Scalloped Potatoes. Cheesy Cauliflower. Rolls.

Nap.

SNOW!!

Easter Cantata. Familial threats. Everyone went.

Beautiful Music. Boofus Slept. Caboose eight bathroom trips.

Dean thrilled! Momza's Happy. Worth the threats.

SNOW!!!

Monday. Busy morning. Kids to school. Dean home to Loveland.

115 bubble-blowing-laughed-filled miles one way.

Home at 1:38pm. Nana school 2pm. Piano 3pm.

Pick up Kids 3:20. Kelly's 4:45pm to Pueblo.

Klair's wedding 6pm. Professional (not really) Punch-pourer.

Laughed too much with Kelly.

Clean Up Crew.

Home 11:45pm.

Check Blog.

Facebook.

Sleep.

How many words is that?

He Lives!

art by Simon Dewey

Gethsemane...were you there?

This is the work of Carl Bloch, a Danish painter commissioned to paint scenes from the Savior’s life for the Chapel in the Fredericksborg Castle, that had been ravaged by a fire.

For 14 years he painted scenes from the Scriptures.

Of them all is my favorite called “Gethsemane”.

In it, we see the Savior, exhausted & weary…in the embrace of an Angel.

Luke 22:41-43
41And he was withdrawn from them about a stone's cast, and kneeled down, and prayed,
42Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.
43And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.

Notice the scriptures do not NAME this angel. It has always been my feeling that we who had chosen to follow Him, yet still in the heavens, may have witnessed this scene. And I have wondered who that Angel was…if Heavenly Father had said to me,

“ Will you go to your Brother and give Him strength?”

…that I would have…

what would I say to Him in that moment

when I saw Him take on the sins of the world, wracked in agony…

what would I have said?

The only words I can even think of would be

“Thank you thank you thank you.”

I don’t know if I was that very wonderful Angel…

maybe it was You.

Maybe it was you who lifted our Brother,

comforting Him, loving Him.

What words did you say?

When All Things Are Made Perfect...

Growing up, the one Sunday my Protestant parents made sure we went to church was Easter Sunday. Each of them had been raised in different faiths; my mother was Presbyterian/Baptist and my father was Pentecostal. Though my father had received his education at the International Bible School in San Antonio, TX., and had even considered becoming a full-on Preacher, he did not pursue that professionally. My mother's family was not what you could call "religious", and we'll leave it at that.

But as a child, the Sunday School bus would come around on Easter morning and my folks made sure we were on it. I liked Easter...the new dress, gloves and white patent leather shoes made me feel like a shiny new penny. And of course, the "Easter bunny" baskets and eggs added the magic I was looking for as a kid.

When I heard about Jesus on the cross, as a child and how He rose again on the 3rd day, that seemed to add to the "magic" of the rest of Easter Sunday. It wasn't the focus, but it was a good thing.

Then, I grew up. I chose my own faith when I was 16 years old. And I learned the Easter is not about bunnies and eggs. It's about a Gift with a Promise.

When I was 23 years old, I gave birth to Dean. He wasn't breathing when he was born--the pitocin affected him adversely and caused his breathing to stop. Medically, he was termed "stillborn but revived". That lack of oxygen caused brain damage to my little one. The day I found out, I was alone at Phoenix Children's hospital with Dr. Raun Melmud. I'd gone by myself with Dean to find out why he wasn't rolling over or pulling up like other almost 6 month olds. I'd been to a regular Pediatrician months earlier who said, based on his birth, he might be a little delayed but I shouldn't worry about it. But he didn't get stronger, so I made the appointment with Dr. Melmud, a specialist.

We were in Dr. Melmud's office a few minutes, as he kindly went thru some physical tests with Dean, and then sat me down in his office and told me my son has Cerebral Palsy. I sat stunned, I guess. I don't remember what else was said, because all I could hear was the sound of my heart breaking. I held my baby in arms and melted into his soft blue eyes. Out of the office, I sat in the car in the hospital parking lot, and sobbed my eyes out while looking at my beautiful son and wondering, "why?".

The next 2 weeks, I just closed the curtains in the apartment and cried most of the day while I still took care of my 3 children. I just kept asking outloud to the heavens why this happened to me and my baby. Was it something I had done? I begged for this to go away. I would do anything to make this not be true. "Please, I'm so sorry for whatever I've done, I will do better".

The heavens were silent. And because little kids needed me, I wept when they took naps or after bedtime. I was sad for Dean and myself. How was I going to do this?

Then I just snapped out of it and got busy doing what needed to be done.

The years passed and we just kept going. Daily therapy for 3 years...speech, OT, PT, neurology and genetics appointments. I got to know the hospital staff, and all the wonderful therapists who blessed my son's life. Victories came in small ways. You had to pay attention to see them.

We had been told that Dean wouldn't walk. And through a true miracle and blessing, he began walking at 4 1/2 years old. He didn't know what he couldn't or shouldn't be doing, so he tried whatever he felt like doing. He is pretty much fearless.

When he was about 14 years old, we were camping up at Rocky Mountain National Park one summer. Mr W. the kids and I were all sitting on logs that overlooked a meadow.

It was sunset and the elk gathered in the sun's final beams as we quietly watched them. Pretty soon, the first star shone. I said to the kids, "LOOK! The first star tonight! Let's make a wish!"

Then, starting at the end of the log, I asked each of the girls what they wished for--Diana wished for everyone to be happy. Dara wished for something magical like a Unicorn. And then I got to Dean. He said, "I wish it time Jesus here." I said, "You mean, the Resurrection?" He nodded, "Because then, my [tapping head] be good."

As I have to come find out for myself, that is the Gift and the Promise of the Resurrection. The Gift is Redemption from all of our sorrows, trials, heartaches, sins and physical imperfections...the Promise is Eternal and Everlasting Joy.

It's personal for me and my family. We look forward to the day when Dean will stand before us Absolutely Perfect. How great shall be my joy.

It's Good Friday.

Humiliating Your Children is Never a Good Thing

So I have to put this out there for young mothers...

While shopping yesterday, I found myself in the same area of a young-ish Mom (in her late 20's to early 30's) with two children. One was in tears...just sobbing...he looked to be about 9 or 10 years old. He was begging for his mother's heart to open to him. Apparently, he had been un-truthful or dishonest in school. I was trying to NOT listen, so the details are fuzzy. All I could hear her say was how she could never trust him again and he deserved whatever he got in the way of retribution from some kid at school.

She was hateful, honestly. He continued to apologize. Over and Over. What he wanted was her forgiveness.

This mother was so bent on "teaching him a lesson" that she was teaching him nothing about being honest, about being able to repent and be better for the sake of being better.

I don't even know if I'm saying this right. I was so dissappointed for them both. She was humiliating him in public.
I wanted to go over to her and say, "I see your frustration, but this is not how you teach a child to be honest. He knows what he did was wrong--now he's asking for your forgiveness. Be his Mother. Be compassionate. Slow down and see what your words are doing to his little self. This is not going to end well long term. Reassure him that he can be better and that you still love him--while he still cares what you think. If this is how you react to his mistakes, he will stop seeking your approval. Oh be wise."

I see young moms all the time ranting and raving at their little ones in public. Usually, the little tike is tired but Mom is on a shopping kick and doesn't want to stop. Have you seen Moms and toddlers out shopping at 10 pm at night and she is yelling at the kids to stop whining? For crying out loud--those babies need to be in bed! Grab the milk and go home!

Have you ever seen a child beg for their Momma to hold them or just accept their hugs but the Momma pushes them away because she's upset? Don't do that. After awhile, they'll stop asking you to accept them. You're teaching them to stay away. To be cold for reasons they can't possibly understand.

Babies stay little for a little while. Love them while you can. Hold them with both hands. Be quick to forgive. Love them endlessly. Teach them that while You are the center of their world, Your World would cease without them. Oh, be wise.

Chinese babies, Senioritis, a 10k and Brain Mush

I'm trying to think, but nothin's happening.

Seriously, I think my senses are overwhelmed, because I. Got. Nuthin.

Ever since the "baby news"--that seems to be the gear my brain is stuck in. It's ridiculous.

I can't go to the store without "picking up" a little something for a child who isn't here yet.

Baby wipes, baby clothes and whatever else I can find.

Oh, in case I didn't mention it--I am hardcore thinking this is a Girl!-- on account of the Chinese Gender Calendar--hey, don't be a hater!--I challenged it with my own 7 kids and it was right, so I put in Dani's info and it says GIRL--who am I to argue the Chinese? Have you tasted their soup?! So go check it out, and tell me what you get?!http://www.ovulation-calculator.com/ttc-tools/chinese-conception-chart.htm So go and come back!

The only other things I'm focused on is getting Nana thru High School. She has a terrible case of "senioritis"...only 4 weeks left and she can barely hold on. I remember well how those last weeks of High School were nearly unbearable. Painful. I just couldn't wait to be Done with it.

So while I have compassion for Nana-- I'm ready for her to be done too. She is going to have an exciting life and this is where it starts gettting really interesting! I am my kids' biggest Fan!

***********

The other thing I'm focused on is getting back to work after 3 months of familial sickness stalled my business goals. I have to stay busy otherwise my brain will truly turn to mush...well, mushier than it already is. I know you understand. And I miss doing things I love compared to things that I don't--like laundry and toilets. Staging a house is so creatively rewarding! And my partner, Kelly is too fun for words. And then my Doula thang is...wow. I.love.that. I love pregnant women in labor. I'm a great coach. I am. Only because I know it is a privilege to be in the room and I am my best self as I care for another woman and her birth partner. It's like the culmination of all I've learned...service, mothering, nurturing. I'm good at that. So I'm anxious to get back to work!

**********

Last Sunday, we're all sittin' around the dining table talking about General Conference....Mr W, Dani & Mr. Idaho, and the rest of the yahoos. I was trying to direct us towards a stimulating, spiritual conversation. I know. Sheesh.

So this is how it went.

Momza: "One thing I have learned lately when I pray is that often the answer is "to be patient, or to have patience."

Mr W: "My prayers have been "I have nothing left Lord, and please don't take that."

******

One last thing, every year there is a 10k in Boulder, CO. called the Bolder Boulder. I've wanted to do it for as long as I've known about it. So this is the year. I've been walking to get in shape.

And by walking, I mean, WALKING....working-up-a-sweat-walking...and it feels good. The best part about walking is that I'm alone when I do it. None of the kids are with me. I leave my phone at home. I AM ALONE WITH MY THOUGHTS. And I love it.

I used to run a few miles a day back in my late 20's when I only had 3 kids...then more kids came along and I stopped. And got fat. So I'm going to change that. I'm going to be 48 years old this year. And I'll be a Granma. I have to live alot longer than I planned now that I'm gonna be a Granma, you know? Because I am gonna be an involved Abuela. I don't have parents involved in my life, which affects my kids. But, I am gonna be one awesome Babushka.

So that's it. That's all I got. Now you can go back to your fascinating lives and feel better about your life in all it's fascinating-ness. I've gotta get my sneaks on and hit the trail.

The Secret Is OUT! Oh Baby!

So every Thanksgiving we go around the dinner table and say what we're thankful for...
this Thanksgiving we'll be adding another blessing to our family. That's right, I'm gonna be a Granma/Abuelita/Babushka!!!

Dani & Mr. Idaho told us weekend before last. And it has been a nightmare trying to keep it on the d/l until they wanted to share it with their friends and family members! I avoided my friends for days so I wouldn't crack under pressure. Poor Nan thought I was mad at her! Sorry Nan! I knew if I even heard your voice, I'd have to tell you I was in Your Club now!!

We were told to tell Noone.

That was Saturday.

I called David Scott in Boise, Saturday night. I know, I know. It was my tricky way of not telling him, but getting him to call her and hopefully, she'd tell him.

ME:"Hey, when was the last time you spoke to Nellie? (her other nickname).

David:"Uh-I don't know. Why? She pregnant?"

ME:"What? I'm just saying you should call her sometime. Soon. K?"

David: "Yeah, Dani's pregnant. Cool."

ME: "I didn't say that. Just CALL her, okay?"

David: "Sure Mom."

Ugh. Why was this so difficult?! Am I that transparent?

Then the travelling Spring Break Girls came home Sunday night.

"What are you so happy about, Mom?" says Nana.

ME: "Oh, um, Just glad you both are home safe. That's all.[pause]Say, have you spoken to Dani this weekend?"

Nana: "Yeah, well, not today. Why? What did she tell you?"

(At this point, I'm wondering if Dani told her before she told Me.)

ME: "Nothinggggg. What did she tell you?"

Nana: "Oh nothing. What's going on ?"

ME: "Nothing. You might wanna call her though and tell her about your trip. I'm sure she'd like to hear all about it."

And then I left the room before I cracked.

Monday night, Dani calls. I asked if she'd told Nana. Nope, she hadn't. I BEGGED her to please tell her so I can talk to someone about this!!!!

So I go to Nana's room and say, "Hey, Dani's on the phone. Talk to her."

Nana looks at me suspicious. "What's goin on?"

"I don't know. She just wants to talk to you."

So Nana sits down on her bed. I watch her face for that moment when I know Dani has told her.

It's coming... first, the bewilderment. Then, OH MY HECK!!!! Tears!! Tears!! Laughter and Tears!!! YESSSSSSS! We have a touchdown!

So I left the room so the two of them can have this moment as sisters. Oh heck, I cried too. Whew! Now I can talk about this with another emotional boob in the house, as Mr W is not an emotional boob, and after being told about the baby, smiled, gave Dani a hug then found the remote and went back to watching March Madness.

Monday night, at family prayer, it was my turn to offer the prayer. Yeah. Do you see where this is going??

"...And please bless Dani in this pregnancy...and the ba--[o no! I didn't!]--!."

"WHAT???" came the cries of the children! "What? Dani's pregnant? With a BABY? WOOHOOO!!!" The Boofus jumps up and down "I'm gonna be an Uncle!" Daisie, looks bewildered. "Really?" And the Caboose starts right in: "I'll never get to hold the baby! You guys are gonna hog it!"

That's right, let's start fighting over this child 8 months before she gets here.

Mr Wonderful leans back. "Who didn't see that coming?" (I am terrible at keeping secrets, a well-known fact.)

I really just flat-out forgot to be quiet. But hey, when I'm praying, I'm praying. I talk to Heavenly Father about our family in family prayer. So there ya go.

The thing is, I had to tell the kids to "act surprised" once Dani decides to tell them and until then, don't say a word about it.

Dani & Mr. Idaho came down again this past Saturday. In front of the whole family, Dani asks, "Does everyone know?"

Without skipping a beat, we all reply "YES!"...and then lots of hugs are given. She just grinned and rolled her eyes at me. Hey, she knows me. I can't keep good news to myself. Can't do it.

It's a great time in our family. Another person to love is always a good thing, isn't it?!!!

So that, along with General Conference and a Spring Blizzard sums up my weekend. I can't complain.

What about you? How did you tell your folks you were pregnant?

Making Over Your Old Sweaters!

I was in a crafty mood one Saturday. I'd seen this tutorial online, and had Daisie bring up some old sweaters that she no longer wore. I made my own rendition of this "sweater bag"...only I lined it using an old shirt of Dani's--it turned out way cute, and now I am thinking of how I want to use the other sweaters! So check this out!http://homemakinghoneys.blogspot.com/2009/02/homemade-sweater-bag.html

Glue this to your TEEN!

Maturity

Maturity is the ability to control anger and settle the differences without violence or destruction. The mature person can face unpleasantness, frustration, discomfort and defeat without collapsing or complaining. He knows he can't have everything his own way every time.

He is able to defer to circumstances, to other people -- and to time. He knows when to compromise and is not too proud to do it.

Maturity is humility. It is being big enough to say, "I was wrong." And when he is right, the mature person need not experience the satisfaction of saying, "I told you so."

Maturity is the ability to live up to your responsibilities, and this means being dependable. It means keeping your word. Dependability is the hallmark of integrity. Do you mean what you say -- and do you say what you mean?

Unfortunately, the world is filled with people who can't be counted on. When you need them most, they are among the missing. They never seem to come through in the clutches. They break promises and substitute alibis for performance.

They show up late or not at all. They are confused and disorganized. Their lives are a chaotic maze of broken promises, former friends, unfinished business and good intentions that somehow never materialize. They are always a day late and a dollar short.

Maturity is the ability to make a decision and stand by it. Immature people spend their lives exploring endless possibilities and then do nothing. Action requires courage. Without courage, little is accomplished.

Maturity is the ability to harness your abilities and your energies and do more than is expected. The mature person refuses to settle for mediocrity. He would rather aim high and miss the mark than aim low -- and make it.

Maturity is the art of living in peace with that which we cannot change, the courage to change that which should be changed, no matter what it takes, and the wisdom to know the difference.
~Ann Landers

And from Boyd K. Packer for teens--which I've had mounted on my fridge door for years now:

"Dating leads to marriage. Marriage is a sacred religious covenant and in its most exalted expression may be an eternal covenant. Whatever preparation relates to marriage, whether it be personal or social, concerns us as members of the Church.
If you are old enough to date, you are old enough to know that your parents have not only the right but the sacred obligation, and they are under counsel from the leaders of the Church, to concern themselves with your dating habits.
If you are mature enough to date, you are mature enough to accept without childish, juvenile argument their authority as parents to set rules of conduct for you."

My April-Fools Surprise!

Like most families, we have many different personalities. This is the Actress.
See a trend? You loved this "flapper dress"!

Always Posing.


Always smiling!

Your Due Date: 01 April, 1995I walked and walked and walked on your due date, finally going to bed exclaiming, "this baby is never gonna come!"

11:59PM my water broke.
We were expecting a Boy. April Fools!!

I delivered you at home. During the last couple of months of pregnancy, my midwife said (under her breath at the end) that she thought this was not the Boy we were expecting.

As the midwife handed you to me, I looked down and exclaimed:

"A GIRL? Is this a girl???"

"Yes!" came the reply.

"Oh my goodness, what are we gonna name her?"

Because of the "D" -theme we had going, lots of names were thrown out,

and then, I recalled a name I'd thought about when I was pg with #3.

DARA (hebrew) compassion.

CRISTINE (hebrew) anointed one.

You are true to your name. Compassionate. Loving. Creative. Smart.

Dean couldn't pronounce "Dara", and called you "Day".

Kent met you at 22 months and called you "Daisie" and you are!

Your first word: "Hot"--which is natural

given you were born in Phoenix.

Do you remember

when you were around 4 or 5,

the Fourth of July show

you did for us at the Durrant's barbque?

Brittany Spears?

"Oops! I did it again!"??

I wish I had pictures of that!

You are and have always been a gift to me.

Heavenly Father loves you.

And I am grateful you are who you are.

Happy Birthday!