Something I Love--Journal Keeping

Perhaps it is because I love to read.
Perhaps it's because I have always felt
orphaned
without stories to read
to connect the past
that has made me this way:
I am a journal keeper.

I have always kept a journal.
Ever since I can remember...
back to my twelfth birthday
when my cousin, Coleen
gave me a diary with a lock and a sacred key.
I was a shy young girl
and kept my thoughts to myself.
Having a place to keep them safe,
was truly the best gift my cousin could've
given to me.

My journals look odd together,
some are all fancy-looking
with my name embossed in gold lettering,
others just a three-ring binder,
while others are a simple spiral notebook.
It has never mattered to me
what they looked like,
I just needed those
clean
white
empty pages.

I have always
always
always
kept a journal.

I recently won a giveaway from Cocoa--
a handmade leather journal from England.
I love it!
After alot of thoughts on how to use it,
I decided to fill it with
"love letters"--
notes to my family and friends.

I even keep journals for my yahoos...
baby books just didn't provide the space
I needed to share my thoughts
about a growing child
and my enthusiasm and love for their milestones.
I needed more pages and less
fill-in-the-blanks.

Nana gave me a gift recently.
A lovely brown leather journal
with a gold nameplate too.
I'll fill in an average sized journal
in about a year and half.
My last one completed,
I nearly ached for a new one
and my sweet Nana supplied my
yearning.

I had the idea to ask my family
to write their testimonies
in my journal
before I began my own entries.

I asked Nana to start
since she is my benefactor of sorts.
She had it for a few weeks,
and just this morning handed it to me.

When I was alone,
I cracked it open
for the first time to read
what she wrote:

"Fear not little children, for you are mine, and I have overcome the world, and you are of them that my Father hath given me; and none of them that my Father hath given me shall be lost." ~Doctrine and Covenants50:41,42
I feel like this scripture not only applies to our relationship with the Savior, but our relationship with you Mom.
Heavenly Father gave all of us to you knowing full well that you would lead and guide us in the right direction, and that under your care none of us would be lost."

I read it once.
Twice.
A full heart followed
by full tear-ducts...
wet cheeks
grateful heart.
Oh that I live up to her words.

Have you heard of LDSJournal.com ?
It's a FREE, Private, Online Journal site
that you can sign up for FREE!
"Now you have the easiest, most efficient way
to keep a personal journal!"
And they have an awesome section called
"All About Me"--
full of great questions for you!
And get this--
they'll even print it into a book for you
at budget-friendly prices!
And
And
And
You don't have to be LDS
to join!!
Nope.
Journal keeping is alot like blogging, right?
But you can make it more personal,
and make it to last forever.
I have a friend who kept her journal
on her PC--
and when it crashed,
there went several years of journaling.
This is a safer way to journal,
because you aren't saving the information
on your PC!
So pop over, take a look around
and see if it's for you!

Do you keep a journal?
Do you have journals from ancestors that move you?
I'd love to hear about them.

How to Help a Shy Child

•    Accept and respect the fact that your child is shy and 
      that it’s not necessarily a bad thing.

•    Support and discuss their shyness with them.

•    Offer encouragement to try new things and participate in social activity.

• Rehearse situations and responses that your child can use for particular                          events.

•    Compliment them when they do well in social situations.

•    Help them to make friends by inviting another child over to play.

•    Talk to your child’s teachers to see if they can help at school.

•    Let them know that they are not alone in being shy.

•    Be open to input from others that spend time around your child.

•    Avoid labeling or calling them shy to other people.

* Set the example for them.  
* Make friends, talk to the store clerks and bank tellers casually.
* Have an active social life.
* Teach them how to answer the phone.
* Encourage their friendships with birthday parties, or just inviting their friends to the park, or a walk around the block, playing games, etc.

Forgiveness: My Burden Was Made Light

{{Turn off Music Player at bottom of page}}



News Story

Mothering Stretchmarks?

The trail is silvery

Winding east to west

North to south

Spidering off towards

No-Man’s Land…

Each trail was forged

By eruptions

Stretching the land

By uncontrollable growth

Inevitable bursting of a fertile ground.

The trails started beneath the surface

But forces of nature

Took over and pushed open the land

The power beneath too strong to bear.

First a little line

Then a stretched-out jag

And even a red and purple-y highway

Looking much like the London Underground

Or the multi-laned highways that circle

the larger-than-life city of Houston.

Deceptive in both their origins

and final destinations…

these trails of mine.

I look.

I wince.

I look again.

Is that silvery highway

Really all mine?

I stare and trace my fingers

Over my skin that tells the story.

My Story:

The Journey of Motherhood.

The criss-crossed stretching-marks

Of seven full-term pregnancies.

I was that mother that caressed her

bulging tummy

loving my baby

singing and humming tunes

I hoped would reach baby’s ears.

Cocoa butter provided only moisture

And a reason to rub love into my baby…

But it didn’t hold back the

Inevitable stretchmarks that brought

disapproval to my ego

when I was younger.

I couldn’t bear to look at them.

By the third go-round,

I stopped looking

And kept moving.

I lost baby weight

And still they were there—

Those journey trails…

The older trails are silvery and nearly invisible

While the last journey’s trails

are still vivid;

Nine pound babies need lots of room.

Did you know that?

They do.

I’m curious nowadays.

I look and wonder,

“which baby did that one?”

“Oh, that one will never go away.”

“Wow. There’s a story with these.”

The truth is,

I have a Mother’s Body.

I have been a vessal of creation.

My hair is thinner…gray is coming in.

Oh I do so embrace the gray;

like a silver medal of honor—

I’ve been in the trenches of

Diaper pails, teething fevers,

Sleepless nights, fretful fears.

And I’ve survived.

My eyes are not as bright as

the days of my former youth.

They’ve cried tubfulls of tears

for joys and worries alike.

At the wonders of first words

First steps, first days of school,

Mission farewells, Homecomings,

And around sacred temple alters.

My eyes have given me a front row seat

To the spectacle that is my life.

At the end of this summer day,

I am slower than I used to be—

I cannot just ‘jump up’ and get going…

No, my moves are deliberate

because my muscles get tight when I sit

too long.

Those muscles used to have a knee-jerk reaction

when a baby cried

a dish broke

a chair tipped

And still on occasion forget they are stiff

when a midnight phone call wakes me.

All of my body has been

Used up to grow a family.

 The word "stretchmark" 

may as well define the "stretching" I have done as a woman

as well as

the stretching my body and soul
has done to become a mother.

And at the end of the day,

it's really ALL GOOD.

Three Weeks Until School Starts!

Kids start school in three weeks.

I don't know if I wanna 

run down the street screaming for 

"JOY!"

or

Call a Time-Out

because I'm not ready for them 

to leave all day again.

I like having them home--

even when they're naughty,

I like their brown-berry skin

from running around all day 

in the sunshine--

bouncing on the trampoline,

riding their bikes,

running down to the little pond.

I love hearing laughter

echoing from their bedrooms,

full of friends

playing games

eating peanut-butter-jelly-samiches.

I like our lazy mornings

and late nights.

Boofus asked if I'd homeschool him 

this year

because he doesn't wanna be a 

fifth grader...

I just smiled.

Nope.

He winces when we talk about School--

he's not ready to give up his flip-flop summer yet,

for homework and shoes.

So three weeks to go

and we're trying to cram as much

into 'em as we can--

camping and hiking,

Elitches and WaterWorld.

Three weeks away

will be here before 

we know it.

Distance for Davis: Lift Where You Stand

I don't live in Utah.
But, I have friends who live there.
And those friends,
have friends...
Together, we can do as
President Uchtdorff counsels--
to lift where we stand.

http://www.daviscoxfundraiser.com/p/about-davis.html

The Gift of a Rainbow

The Reality of my Summer Days

 No trips to the Land of Disney,
with its castles and princess beauties,
or sailing on Bear Lake
with blow-up tubes and bathing cuties,
No beaches,
No national monuments--
we won't see Mount Rushmore again
this year,
No resorts on sandy coastlines,
No Hawaiian Tropics
or tan lines on my rear.
No cabana boys named "Luis"  or "Juan" or "Ramon",
No lengthy trips to Granma's house
to show her how we've grown.

Our summer days are flyin by
at playing in the park:
laying on a blanket
tossing Frisbees until dark,
playing fetch with the dog
and catching sunfish at the pond,
playing MadLibs at the table
a game we are so fond!

I try my creative mommy-powers,
like
Bribing my yahoos
to speak kind words
for twenty-five cents an hour,
No more
"shut-up"
"you're stupid"
"he started it--not me!"
I want a home to be filled with love,
I'll pay for it
if needs be!
I put my offer on the table,
only to be told by
the Boofus,
that he'd be more than able
and much less sour
if I upped the anty to
five bucks an hour!

The closer to August the calendar rolls,
the more inclined I feel,
 to feed my family
cold cereal
for every single meal--

Lucky Charms, anyone?

Laundry is the one relief
my lazy summer brings--
the yahoos sleep in playclothes
and rarely change a thing.
Their drawers are filled all nicely
smoothe and folded over,
looking even dreamier than
Jane Austen's cliffs of Dover.

I try to care,
I really do,
but then again,
I'm lazy--
it's summertime and before we know it,
the laundry will get crazy!
School shirts and  school pants and school socks
all in my path,
I'll save my efforts for the days ahead
when kids need baths
and shampooed heads!
When flip flops are shoved deep under the bed
and blankets are dragged
to the breakfast table while little mouths
are being fed.
But for right now,
this day
right here,
I'll close my eyes
pretend I don't care.

Instead,
I'll plan trips
around the mountains
we call "home"...
Drag the yahoos,
hike the Crags
and  rocky trails
we will roam.
No need for rental cars
or reservations,
the trails belong to us--
Grab a water bottle,
pack some nutty mix,
lace your boots and kick the dust!

So share your pics of
all your travels--
the hotels and sand bars,
the yummy eats and Mouseketeer ears,
your run-ins with the stars--
I'll read 'em all,
every one.
I'll smile at all your faces,
your sunburns and all your buddies
ooh and ahh at all the places.

Then,
I'll go grab my yahoos
a jelly samich in a pack,
and head out to our vacay spots,
n'
search my pockets for five bucks.

Cheering From the Bleachers

I'm here in the stands.
Sitting, uncomfortably.
While the relief I seek
would come
if I stood up
and
stretched my "mother muscles",
the player in my line of sight
is not in search of
coaching right now.

So I sit
with the whole playing field
in sight--
and I watch
my little player
with great interest.

Fighting the urge
to warn of the approaching
dangers
that our untamed habits
cause us to suffer.
Stifling the voice in the watchtower
that cautions:
"O be wise my child. Be wise."

No, I am an eternal cheerleader--
GO!
FIGHT!
WIN!
I am not on the field,
the game is not mine to win,
though I have high stakes
in the outcome
it's not my battle.
My voice is on the sidelines
on the cold hard bleachers--
I've had my turn to play this game.
I made my own mistakes
and counted the consequences
as a failure or success.

I've sat here before,
uncomfortable in my seat,
waiting to be asked for my
best advice.
Waiting is the hardest thing
when time is in the mix,
don't you think?

I want to take the player
by the hand
and lead her to the goal--
not stop and ask what she thinks
or how she feels about it--
just take her to the goal line
and cement her in it.

I know I'd certainly sleep better
if her feet were firmly cemented
into the goal line.
Dang it tho,
Free Agency
has its own price
and it ain't
Free
at all.

So here I sit in the bleachers,
cheering
"Go! Fight! Win!"
and hoping the player
hears my voice
above all the noise
in the whole stadium.

Sleep Baby Sleep!

It's overcast this morning,

and chilly--

so much so

that 

we had to close some windows.

Thank Goodness!

So here's the latest around Momza's House:

The Ninja baby is sleeping all night--

Dani and I talked about it,

and she was ready 

to lose a little sleep 

for a few nights

by letting him cry it out.


The first night,
he cried for forty minutes;
the second night,
half of that,
and by the third night
he slept all night
and there was joy and rejoicing
in Momza's House!

Related articles by Zemanta

• Baby and Sleeping Patterns (brighthub.com)

Too Hot to Blog?

I have things to blog about:

*the Ninja child...who can "army crawl" with the best of 'em and is sleeping all night now!

* the 15 yo's adventure's in AZ and Camp Joseph

* Recipes I've been trying and cooking tips I've tried and liked.

*Zumba class shenanigans

But really,

all I want to do is take a nap.

The heat of July is so deep,

that it may keep my bones warm

in December.

And all this heat,

just makes me wanna 

sit still and zone-out.

Families Can Be Together Forever

This was the best day of my life.
Beautiful.
Perfect.

It was the day
our family was sealed
for
Time and All Eternity
in the
Salt Lake Temple--
or the Pioneer Temple,
as our family calls it.

I'm the only Latter-Day Saint
 in my family
as
Mr. Wonderful is the only
Latter-Day Saint
in his too.
That makes us pioneers in our own right,
so when it was time
to choose which Temple
to seal our family,
the Salt Lake Temple
was the obvious choice.

Our special day was June 25th, 2004.
Just six years ago.
Don't we all just have the greatest smiles on?

I'd arranged the photographer to meet us
right after the sealing
so those smiles
are fresh
and
true.

That day in June,
there were 54 other couples being sealed--
fifty of them were young couples just being married.
When our family came out of the Temple,
there were wedding parties
all over the beautiful temple grounds.
As our photographer placed us
under this tree,
our first photograph--
we were surprised to see other
photographers gather around us
and also snap away with their cameras.
My oldest son, David Scott
whispered in my ear,
"What's going on? Why are they doing that?"
I thought about it and said,
"Well maybe it's because we represent
eternal families today."
The other wedding parties
were young and vibrant--
but I guess seeing children
dressed in white
with their parents just touched their hearts.
I don't know.
But
I was on Cloud Nine.

I wish we could go back to the Temple
once a year,
the whole family,
right back to the same sealing room,
ya know,
and just BE TOGETHER
as a family...
just to be sure we're all
where we should be
in Life.

Because it was the best place
in the world
to be with my family--
to have that eternal-ness
all around us.
To have just a glimpse into
eternal possibilities.

Having an eternal perspective
is the foundation of our family--
the fussin' and fightin'
the kissin' and makin-ups

they all matter.

Because what we have at stake
aren't just family relationships
that are to be
endured and tolerated
in this life,
to be left in the dust tomorrow,
no,
we're building more than that
in the walls of our home,
and when you're building something
you believe is meant to last forever,
you take it seriously.
At the end of the day,
I have to be "right" with my kids,
and they have to be "right"
with each other.
Discipline is meted out with purpose--
to teach, to prepare, to grow
these young ones
into responsible,
faithful
loving
adults.

As earnest as I may try,
I mess up.
I need forgiveness from the people
I love most.
So humility is my goal here,
as I urge my young ones to do their best,
to show their best,
to repent and improve
and be gentle on themselves too.
To laugh more
at myself,
gives them permission to laugh
at themselves.

We're participating in God's Greatest Plan--
the Eternal Family.
And whatever else we may deal with
as we learn and grow
in the lab of our family walls,
nothing
nothing
nothing
is more important
than the relationships we build
with one another.

So yeah, we'll deal with
the normal challenges of a growing family
head on,
and somedays there is
weeping
and
wailing
and
gnashing of teeth,
doors taken off of hinges,
time-outs
groundings
and grumblings.
But there are also
apologies offered,
hugs given,
prayers heavenward,
forgiveness offered,
hearts mended.
Because I believe this to be true:
Families Can Be Together Forever.

To learn more about the purpose and promises of the Holy Temple: https://www.mormon.org/beliefs/the-family

*before listening to this, go to the bottom of the page and pause the musicplayer.

Hi, I'm Momza and I'm an Emotional Foodie

365

X

28 

Equals

10220

I've been making dinner
for 
TEN THOUSAND TWO HUNDRED  and TWENTY DAYS.

For the sake of argument,
let's delete some dinners
on account of giving birth to seven yahoos,
Pizza nights,
nights I've been at work
and
cereal nights....
so let's just push the TOTAL
down to
TEN THOUSAND DAYS.

...hold on a sec
while I let this number
resonate...
you know
wrap my head around the fact
that I've cooked
10,000 meals
for a humongous family...
why is it I feel light-headed all of a sudden?
That's not even including breakfasts or lunches.

Man Oh Man,
Sweet Mother of Troy,
that is alot of days
to do anything!
I could've gotten a degree in
something
spectacular by now!
At least, as a Chef!
No-freakin-kiddin!
I kinda feel like crying a little bit.

So why bring this up now?
After 10 thousand days??

Well yesterday a neighbor stopped by
just as we sat down for dinner
to drop something off.
I thank her for having Ari over for
dinner the previous night,

 I said, "Arianna loved your lamb burgers last night.

Where do you get ground lamb?"

 She answered,

"Oh I got it at King Soopers.  Super easy to make. Everyone liked it.

I can get you the recipe if you'd like.

I make something new for dinner
every day of the year.
In fact, we haven't had the same meal
twice ever."

I was in awe,
speechless.
"How do you do that?" I asked.

"Oh I have tons of cookbooks,
and we just decided that we get bored
if we eat the same things over n' over,
so I make something different every night."

We finished up our conversation,
but it really started the wheels going
in my noggin.
How does one cook something different
every
single
day?

I have lots of cookbooks--
my family tries all kinds of stuff;
one of our most favorite nights
is Sushi Night.
We make authentic Italian Lasagna with a Bechamel sauce,
on special occasions.
We love tandoori chicken,
grilled salmon,
shrimp scampi,
mac-n-cheese is very much alive n well
at Momza's House!

Thoughts about Food
continued through this afternoon,
and then I asked Dani what she thought
about the whole 365 different meals...
and this is what we came up with:

Many of our food choices
are enmeshed in our family traditions.
We're emotional eaters, I guess.
Special Occasions like Christmas
are celebrated with family favorites
like
my Chocolate Trifle
Bechamel Lasagna
stuffed mushrooms
crab legs and tri-tip steaks.

Birthday meals are almost always
the birthday person's favorite--
depending on who it is
it can be Papa John's Pizza
to
Chicken Fettucine Alfredo...
you get me?

We're Foodies.
But we're emotional foodies.
We find a dish,
like the Mango Chicken Salad
for instance,
and there are requests to have that
several times a month.
Sushi Nights gives us all a chance
to break out the chopsticks and wasabi bowls.
And on and on.

A different dish every night
sounds exotic and clever to me,
truly;
YET,
when I serve up a family favorite,
there's nothing I love hearing more than,

"Oh, My Favorite!"

What about you and your family?
Is food a journey, a necessity, traditions or somewhere in between??
What's a family favorite in your house??

It's Only Wednesday!--running hard with no end in sight!

Crazy week already..
if you've noticed the absence
of my comments,
this has been my week:

* Monday--
no wait,
let's start on Sunday--
since Dani has been here,
I've been getting up with her
at 2am to feed the Ninja child...
I keep her company
while he eats and then I go back to bed.
I don't know why this baby doesn't sleep
all night long.
He's twenty pounds!
We feed him dinner
we bathe him
and put him down at 9pm.
He sleeps for about 5 hours
and then wants a bottle.
All of my yahoos slept thru the night
around 3 months
some sooner.
So if you've got any ideas,
I'd love to hear them.

Okay, and up at  6am,
to let the dog out.
by Monday morning,
I was already tired...
and if you recall,
my Monday post was actually
written around 2am
because of the cold spell (oh how I wish it'd come back!)
and Mr W's snore-fest.

Daisie returned from her Arizona
trip to visit her birth father,
Monday night.
The excitement to see her--
I even made a door poster--
"Welcome Home Daisie! We Missed You! We Love Your Gutz!"--


quickly evaporated when I saw her
hair.
It's dyed blonde.
There are no words to contain
express
my feelings about this.
She's fifteen.
We talked about dyeing her hair
in depth
and I said
"NO." ---
it's inappropriate for a young woman her age,
it's expensive to maintain
it's unhealthy for your hair,
and all those chemicals into your skin.
blah
blah
blah.
So the homecoming went from
"WOW! She's home!"
to
"Crap! What'd you do to your hair?"
in less than a minute.
In reflection,
I guess I should be grateful she didn't ask
for a tattoo of the Grand Canyon.

After I reattached my head
to the rest of me,
I calmly went down to her room
and handed her two letters
I'd written to her while she was gone.

We talked about her hair--
her plan was just to return to AZ
everytime she needed her roots dyed.
Uh, no.
School is coming up
and there's not going to be a break until the holidays.
Which means,
come September,
her roots may be down to her ears
and that's a natural consequence of her choice.
I'm not bending on this.

She went to visit her birth father
over Spring Break and came back with
highlights--
after Id' already told her "NO.",
so it's not like this is a new thing--
she knew exactly what she was doing.
I think she's at the age where
she's making choices based on the thought,
"It's easier to get forgiveness than permission."
So come September,
October,
November,
December,
with her brown roots lining her blonde dye,
I hope she will learn this lesson:
"When Mom says No,
she means it."
or some other grand lesson on
Choice and Accountability.
Pray for me.
No, wait,
Pray for her.

IN less than 12 hours later,
yesterday morning by 7am,
she was packed to go to our
Stake's
"Daughter of Virtue Camp"...
our Stake just bought some sweet land
in southern Colorado,
where many many hours of work
has been spent clearing the land,
running electricity,
digging a well water system
building pavillions,
several bathrooms with showers!,
raised tent sites,
clearing paths
and establishing grassy gardens areas
in the middle of a lush mountain area
has been created specifically for our
daughters.
I forgot to take pictures yesterday
of
"Camp Joseph"--
but both Nana (who went up as a leader)
and Daisie took their cameras
so we'll put some pics up next week.

I wasn't planning on
driving the two hours south
yesterday morning when I got up--
nope,
I went to drop Daisie off at a meeting place
where it was discovered that there wasn't enough
room in the leaders' cars for both Stuff and Girls--
so my thinker started thinking,
and I said,
"Here, send me."

There was joy and rejoicing in my Suburban
as they filled it to the ceiling
with Stuff,
and the girls left with their leaders,
while I ran home and woke up my yahoos
and told them we're going on a roadtrip today!

We got there about an hour after everyone else,
so that the tents were set-up,
the matching colored t-shirts had been donned,
and the girls were gathered at the flagpole
being greeted and briefed on the rules--
only one really stuck out to me--
"Always have a buddy with you. There are bears in the area."
Got it.
Take someone with you to the bathroom that you can outrun.
Easy-peasy.

The camp is lovely,
it's going to be even more lovely as
we continue to make it so.
The girls were as happy to see us
as we were to see them--
nevermind that we'd just seen them
before they left.
We all mushy-gushy that way.
I don't know why--
it's a sickness really.

After Dani and I and the yahoos
toured the Camp,
we left and drove the 100 miles home.

It was too hot to cook last night,
so we went to

"REDDDD ROBBBBBINNNNN"--
 love their fries...so soft and yummy.
Addictive in every way.
I would in fact, give a kidney for a
bottomless basket of their fries.

What?

Today is supposed to be a scorcher--
over 90-stinkin-degrees
so we're headed out to the pool
to the mall
to anyplace air-conditioned
for the whole day...
We'll hit Costco up at lunchtime--
their free samples tour is to die for--
and love those buck-a-piece-churros,
am I right or am I right??

I love air conditioning.

It's only Wednesday
and there's more to come--
more hot weather
more running around
more "teaching moments"
in every direction.

Catch me if you can...

Weekend Whatevs

Another Summer Weekend has flown by!
Can you believe it?
I had a completely awful train of thought
about getting ready for school
or
"The Day That Shall Not Be Named"
in 5 weeks!
YUCK!
It was awful I tell ya.
So not ready yet.

It's because retailers are puttin' out
backpacks
lunchbags
notebooks and pencils.
Killjoys, nuthin' but rotten Killjoys
all of 'em.

When I wasn't thinking about
ya know,
TDTSNBN,
I was having fun with la familia.

Friday night,
the yahoos and I made
homemade guacamole
and
fresh tortillas
for a really tasty Messican dinner.
Am I the only person on the planet
that knows about
keeping the
avocado seeds
aka
"Buddies"
in the mixture to keep it fresh?

I don't know if it's actually true,
because
guacamole disappears in our house
before it can go bad--
but if you've heard of this,
and know it to be true,
shout it out, K?

As for the fresh tortillas--
I don't make the dough,
but buy them already formed
from Costco
and cook them on the griddle--
seriously,
once you've had them fresh and warm
you will never want to buy them
cooked again.

Saturday Morning:
We did not have the missionaries over for breakfast.
That was weird...
we have fed missionaries breakfast
for a decade.
But the elders didn't call and didn't come.
So we had a fun family breakfast,
cleaned the kitchen up,
got into our clown car
and went to the Y
for
Zumba Class!

One of Nana's friends, Taylow,
came with us
for her very first Zumba experience.
We told her how much fun it was
and all that
really pumping her up
to have a fantastic workout.

To our shock and awe,
the Zumba-Instructor-On-Crack,
Elody
was there.
Dani and I
quickly warned
Nana and Taylow about her
with all the energy of our souls--
"That's HER! She's nutz!"

Only 15 minutes into the routine,
we were all laughing our bums off
at the ridiculousness of it all--
Elody knows her Zumba moves--
yessirree she does!!--
But
But
But
it's like she is Angel*na J*olie in that
new double agent thriller,
SALT--
Elody doesn't want anyone else
to know what's coming up!
It's like her routine is a secret
and we're just supposed to read her mind
what she is going to do next.

FUH-HUH-NEE Stuff
I tell ya!
I had to take a water break,
and as I stood in the back of the room,
I saw more than two women
just standing there
just. standing. there.
shaking their noggins in
frustration
disbelief
and may I add,
not to the schizophrenic beat at all.

As for me and my girls,
well, if we'd been at school,
let's just say that
we'd have been kicked out
for goofing off in class--
we were laughing so stinkin' hard
at the situation
and
at each other's attempts to keep up.
I'm giggling now as I write this--
an image of Nana comes to mind
where she is half-jumping
trying to touch her toes with one hand
while the other hand is flailing above her head
like a wet noodle
and
Dani, unsure of what to do
just started doing the can-can!

I promised myself to bring a camera next Saturday.
The good news?
Our regular awesome instructor, Wendy
was in the class too--
so we tried our best to keep up with her.
I grabbed her after class and asked,
"Is Elody a different level of Zumba instructor than you?
Because, well, as you could see,
we were all over the freakin' map here today!"
Wendy smiled,
"No, she's not a different level--she's not too good at giving
directions though. But if you keep coming to her class, you'll catch on."
Wendy was loyal to her co-worker,
and I can appreciate that--
told you Wendy is awesome.
I did see several women corner Elody outright
and ask about her routine...
read
my
mind.
I only overheard her answer,
"Just keep coming...blah blah blah...
and you may be able to read my mind someday."
Or something like that.

Truthfully,
it was awhole lotta fun
in a different way--
the workout kicked our bums
but the laughing made it so fun!
Can't wait for tomorrow's class--
Wendy's night!!
Yesssssssssss.

Okay,
so after the YMCA
we came home and ate leftovers
from our Messican dinner...
the rest of the guac was inhaled
I do believe at that time.
Oh, I didn't mention that we used
six avocados for one batch
did I?
Yeah, we make enough to feed our family
and whomever drops in.

The youngest yahoos had to be threatened to sit down
and eat before they grabbed their fishing nets
and headed to the little pond
with their awaiting posse on the front steps...
a clan of little yahoos in the neighborhood
all lovin' the excitement of fishing!

So the yahoos scarfed down their lunch
and flew out the front door
and down the path to their summer haven.

An hour later,
they all appeared at the front door
with a bucket of stinky pond water
and a five-inch-long sunfish in it.
"Can we keep it?"
"Uh, no. Where would we put it?"
"In this bucket!"
"It smells awful guys. N' look at it--the bucket's too small."
"Awww...c'mon Dad!"
"No, we're not keeping it."

That's when I noticed the yahoos
looking at each other,
fretting about carrying the heavy metal silver bucket
all the way down to the pond again--
obviously,
their excitement in the catch
had made the trek home easy,
but hauling it all the way back
was pure dread.
I chimed in,
"Let me grab my shoes,
and we'll take the baby for a walk
down to the pond with you guys, k?"

Of course there was much relief
and
rejoicing at my offer,
and I was proclaimed to be,
"The Best Mother In The World!"
by all concerned parties.

Apparently,
I rock.

So we took the Ninja baby,
who giggled and cooed the whole way,
down to the Preserve where the pond is--
only we didn't go all the way to the shore--
there's two paths,
one is above it all,
and the one directly to it.
Once, because of trees,
we couldn't see the Boofus and one of his posse,
and just as I said that,
we hear:
"REDDDDDDD ROBINNNNNNNN" coming from down below--
to which the Caboose responded with missing a beat:
"YUMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!"

Do you remember calling
"Marco?"
"POLO!"
yeah, my yahoos are all commercialed-out.
Every so often we'd hear,
"REDDD ROBINNNN"
and not to be left out,
Mr W and I joined with the Caboose--
"YUMMMM!"

On the trail, I realized we
coulda
shoulda
woulda
brought the hound
if I'd thought of it.
So after an hour
we headed back home
dropped off the Ninja Baby
leashed the hound
and
headed back to the Pond.
Our dog lubs the Preserve--
she can be taken off leash
once we assess that there are no other
dogs on the trail
and she lubs it as only a lab can.
We put about 400 miles on her in
thirty minutes
before coming home.
Saturdays rock, don't they?

Sunday:
Church.
Three hours of it.
Sounds like a long time,
to members of other faiths,
but we Mormons are the definition
of
Overachievers--
while one hour is good enough for my Baptist heritage,
Mormons just can't get it all done in one hour!
We have things to do,
people to see--
if I don't write another post this week,
you can assume I've been translated
overnight.
just kidding.

If that were true,
I'd be gone already,
on account of it being
Monday morning
at 2:04--
I went to bed at 10pm,
but between Mr W's snorfest
and a coldfront that woke me up shivering
so I had to get up and close the windows
in the whole house,
I couldn't go back to sleep.
So apparently,
three hours of church
was not enough
to translate me.
Not even after thirty-plus years.
Shoot.

I'm ready for Monday...
supposed to be a scorcher.
Bring it.

What about your weekend?
Spill it!

The Queen Came By Today

When I was a young mother of younger children--
I had 3 children under two years old--
it was really hard to stay on top of housework.
And a messy house equaled
a messy mind for this Momza.

If you ask my own mother
she'd tell you that
growing up,
I always had the cleanest room
in the house.

I lined my socks up in drawers
by color and style--
white
with ruffle
without ruffle.
My favorite activity was
organizing
my things.
My room was my haven.

Flash forward to motherhood,
and there I was with a housefull
of small children
and a mountain of laundry
sinkfull of dishes
dirty diapers
and
no energy or time management skills
to get my house in order.
Then

THEN
I came across a story that changed
my Life--
The story is set in England
in the days when Kings and Queens
traveled by horse carriage
through their kingdoms
village by village.

One morning,
a worn-out mother of many children
bid her also worn-out husband goodbye
for the day,
as he left for work.
Turning around,
she looked at the state of her household
which was a mess--
laundry spilling over from the washtub,
the dining table couldn't even be seen
due to the mounds of unattended clutter,
the floors only cleared for small footpaths
between each room.
Then the mother looked at her children:
unkempt, dirty clothes, smudged faces
and filthy feet--
her heart sank at the chaos that was staring back at her.
"Not today, she mumbled. Not today."

Just then,
a neighbor knocked on the door,
and poking his head thru the screen,
announced that
"The Queen is approaching the village!"

The young mother looked at her own appearance--
ragged dress,
stained apron,
her dirty hair tucked into a careless bun...
she was in no shape to meet the Queen.
Not today.
Not today.

She brought her children inside the home
and drew her shutters closed
hoping that the Queen would pass by
and not notice her missing subjects.

The Queen's arrival at the village
was heralded by it's citizens--
they all came out to pay respects to
her Highness...
all except the worn-out young mother
and her children.

The Queen did notice the absence of
this family,
and without a word,
stepped out of the carriage
plucked some wild flowers from the earth
and

knocked on the family's door.

The young mother was so embarrassed,
opening the door,
couldn't even look up at her Queen.
The Queen reached out and took
the young mother's hand,
and placed the wildflowers in it.
She smiled at the young mother
and climbed back into her carriage
to continue her journey.


The young mother could hardly believe
the graciousness of the Queen!
She stared at the wildflowers
for a moment,
and then decided to put them in
the best vase she had!

Digging under the cupboard
way
way
way
in the back,
she found a dusty pottery vase.
She ran it under water,
cleaning it off to a gleam,
filled the vase with water
and gently tucked the wildflowers
inside.

She looked around the house
to see where to put her special treasure--
where would it be most appreciated?--she wondered.
Ah ha!--
She set it in the center of the dining table.

Stepping back,
she noticed all the clutter on the table that
distracted from the simple beauty
of the wildflowers.
Quickly,
she cleared the table,
wiped it down
and again,
stood back with admiration.
Better, she thought.
Then a chain of reactions
took over--
wouldn't the wildflowers look even better
if I cleaned the kitchen too?
And the kitchen would look better if
I cleaned the livingroom?
And the livingroom would feel so much better
if the rest of the house were clean too.
Room after room,
she tended and cleaned,
humming a happy tune
as she went along.
The children joined their mother,
each anxious to share this happy day.
After the house was clean,
the mother looked over her brood
and warmed up some water over the fire
and you guessed it--
cleaned them up too.

She put dinner on,
set the table as best as she could,
with worn dishes carefully arranged
around the beautiful wildflowers.
As she lay down a plate,
she caught her own reflection--
"Oh no,
this will not do!
Not today!", she said to herself.
And then she tended to her own appearance.


When the young father came home,
he barely recognized his own home
and family--
he looked at his wife curiously,
and all she could do was point to the
little pottery vase of wildflowers
and say,
"The Queen came by today."

~~~

So I read this story to my husband
at the time
and the next day when he came home from work,
he brought home fresh flowers for me
and a tradition
a habit
whatever you wanna call it--
was born.


I love fresh flowers--
any kind
any color
I love 'em all.
And they have the same affect on me
as the woman in the story.
Mr Wonderful as well as my children
are sweet to me in that I usually have fresh flowers
on my dinner table
nearly all the time.
It makes me happy.

So try it.
Even if you have to buy your own favorite petals
at the grocery store today--
buy them
dust off your most favorite vase,
and see if they don't help to motivate you!

The Ninja Baby!

He looks sweet.

Looks.

But

in actuality,

he's

a

Ninja.

When he's at GranMomza's house,

he steals

my time

my energy

my smiles

and

giggles.

I get nothing done

because I have to watch

his every move

and 

see his every smile.

I am addicted

to this

Ninja Baby.