We're Singin' In the Rain...

My WANT List

From the moment you conceive a child,
you begin the business of sharing whatever you have--
while pregnant,
you take on a tenant of sorts
who shares your body,
 then begins to dictate what you will
and will not
eat, and etcetera!


Then the real sharing gets into gear
when that little baby is born--
you make the choice to continue to share your body
if you're nursing that child,
you sacrifice your good clothes,
and high heels,
cute purses are exchanged for
diaper bags,
And we're not even going to talk about
Sleep!

Once baby can walk and talk,
you begin sharing whatever you're eating.
They can't help it--
even if there is the same exact entree on their
little tupperware plate,
they want yours.
If you have a drink,
they'll ask for it too.
Seriously, you share everything
twenty-four seven
for alot of years.

What's yours is only yours
until they declare
"Mine!"

And you'd think it would stop
once they're teenagers--
I don't know about your house,
but in my house
is just ain't so!
"Mom, can I borrow your earrings--the special ones?"--
meaning the diamonds of course.
"Mom, can I borrow the car?"
"Mom, will you share your special chocolate with me? It looks so good."
"Mom, is it alright that I borrowed your blow-dryer? I lent mine to so-and-so
and she hasn't given it back yet."

Honestly, there comes a point
where I just stopped buying
"special things"
just for me,
because
and this is going to sound just awful
but it's the truth--
I didn't want something neat
if I was just going to have to share it.

But guess what, chicken-butt?
I have a LIST--
a big fat WANT LIST--
ready??
-my own Nalgene bottle
-my own flashlight-
-my own pair of super-sharp scissors
-my own camelback/backpack
-my own laptop
-my own small fridge in my room FOR
-my own chocolate milk
-my own car--I drive a Big honkin' Suburban because I used to haul alot
of yahoos around, and occassionally, I still do,
BUT
I'm really jonesing a small car like a
Chrysler 300
Ford Fusion
or
Toyota Camry--
and no kids allowed in with fruit snacks or McDonald's fries.
Ever.

And this is just the beginning.
I want
I want
I want
for cryin' outloud,
my own camping chair...
the kind that reclines and has a little pillow on it
and two cupholders...one for my nalgene bottle
and one for chocolate milk.

What about Your Want List?
What's On It?

On My Mind Today....Fall, School, Parents, Camping, and Nora Ephron--who is NOT related to Zac Efron

August is the doorway

to 

Fall.

I am a child of Autumn.

I crave the season 

like a child craves it's mother.

I need it.

I am so ready for these last days of summer

to expire and make way for a

glorious Fall.

*****

SCHOOL is Starting!! WOOT WOOT!!

When I was a youngun,

school supplies consisted of:

a canvas blue 3-ring binder,

two #2 pencils

one blue ink pen

a pack of notebook paper

and 

8-count Crayolas.

With just those things,

we were ready and prepared for learning.
Isn't it amazing that with just those simple items,
we still put a man on the moon?

Today I ordered my yahoos' school supplies

online

 because

it saves me hours running around town

trying to find all the supplies.

It's called Edu-Kit.com.
With these supplies,
my yahoos should be able to open a
Starbucks on Mars.

***********'

Other things on my mind--
we're moving Dean at the end of this month
to a new caregiver's home.
My family and friends know the why's and wherefore's...
Reader's Digest condensed version:
The current caregiver is not doing her part--
and when it comes to Dean,
I do not compromise.
Nuh-unh, No Way, No How.
****

My Dad.
The Happy Wanderer.
Is behaving every bit the elderly dementia'd man
and demanding to buy another car.
The State of Georgia gave him a
LICENSE!!!!
Even after I called the Sheriff's Department
and spoke to Deputy Dan--
and told him that giving my elderly father a license to drive
will end very badly--
they gave him one anyway.

If you give a mouse a cookie....
ugh.
****

Only in the South--
my newly-widowed mother
is toying with the idea
that she would like to get back with my father.
After nearly 20 years of being divorced!
And thirty years of misery before that!!
Insane.
Ludicrous.
Baffles the mind.
My brother set the terms to her--
"Come visit Dad and stay at his house for three days--
if you still want to take him back to Texas after that,
more power to ya."
..when she sobers up,
there is always repentance.

Hey, I can't make this stuff up.

***

I've volunteered to take stewardship over a
Single Adult Dance
here in October--
and I'm not even in the Stake that is hosting it--
Mr W was in the meeting with me,
when I raised my hand to say I'd help,
and when I was asked if I just wanted to do it altogether--
I looked to my High Councilman and asked,
"Do I want to do this?"
To which, he shrugged his shoulders and smiled,
and Mr W's eyes widened like I'd just adopted a
small boat of refugees.
"Heck Yeah! I do!"
Nah, I didn't say "heck" in Church--
it was more like,
"Okay! This'll be fun!"
The funny little lies I tell myself sometimes
amazes me.
Hey, I'm just the Stake Rep,
I have every intention of enlisting the help of
others in the Stake.
No prob. Bob.
****

I have also been enlisted to be on another Stake's committee
for their Annual Creche Exhibition Open House
in December.
Now, this is something I know will be a huge blessing
come Christmastime.
I've done it before and have to say,
the creative process is wonderfully rewarded by the outcome.
The exhibit is always beautiful, inspiring,
and such a delightful contrast to the retail world
in December.
******

The kids start school. the 16th--
yeah I know I already shared that,
I'm excited.
In celebration of the last days of summer--
We're going to sleep in the dirt
aka
"Camp"
at Rocky Mountain National Park
next week.
I love the Park.
I've never even seen a bear there
in all the years we've hiked it.
That's why it's my favorite.
I only have to sleep with one eye open.

***
I've been reading

"I FEEL BAD ABOUT MY NECK"
by Nora Ephron
* I *
want to be her BFF.
I want to sit with her at Olive Garden
and gab about my neck,
and cooking,
and homes
and husbands
and children
and faith.
I want her to tell me more about her love of New York--
a city I've never been to
nor had the desire to go to
mainly because of two things:
It looks so crowded
and
I've been to London
which to me
is just like New York,
only worse food.
I want her to tell me why
that line of thinking is all wrong, wrong wrong.
And I want to order another basket of breadsticks
and just listen to her go on and on about any-and-everything.
I want to tell her that I love her professional work too-
Sleepless in Seattle
is one of my all-time favorite movies.
I will watch it on TV
whenever it's on
even though I own both the video and dvd.
Yeah, I love it that much
and I'd love to tell her about MY LIFE
and ask her if there's a best-selling book in there too?

Maybe I could get a petition going?
Hmmm something to think about.
I know I said I wanted to be BFF's with Julie Beck,
but she hasn't gotten back to me yet,
so the position is still Open.

***
And now,
the day demands I shower and dress appropriately.
I wanna look cute when Nora calls.

Weekend With Dean, Our Special Needs Skywalker

We brought Dean home for the weekend.

He was surprised and had no idea he was coming home,

because if he did know,

he'd been a wreck until we got there.

That's just how he is--

if he knows about something coming up,

the anticipation

kills him....and frankly,

annoys the daylights outta everyone

around him. 

"Are we going yet?"

"We're gonna be late!"

"What time is it?"

"I will miss it!"

So we don't tell him about planned activities

that are out of the ordinary--

to save our sanity and his.
Mostly ours.

He was beaming ear to ear

when he came outside and saw us--

"HEY GUYS!"--he yelled across the yard.

His caregivers handed me his overnight bag,

as he climbed into the front seat

his mouth was going 110 mph...

he was so excited to see us
that if he hadn't been told to get his shoes on,
I bet he'd have gotten into the car barefoot.

Of course, the first thing he tells me

is that I'm 

going the wrong way...

"Den-vuh is dat wayyyy." --pointing south on the interstate.

There's construction on the turn-off, 

so I went right by the exit--

to which he is exclaiming LOUDLY:

"Den-vuhh is dat wayyyy...You're going the wong way, Dawn."

Two seconds later,

we're making a u-turn and praising Dean--

"You're right, Buddy. I drove right past the exit!"

He calls me "Dawn" for the first few hours of nearly every visit.

It's not until he's home around

all the rest of the yahoos

that he reverts to calling me 

"Momza" or "Mom".
Or Honey Bunny.

For the rest of the two hour drive home,

I listen to his chatter...

-about his job ("I make seventy-five cents a hourah!")--

thrilled as though he makes seventy-five million dollars an hour.

-about his friends and co-workers ("Francine--she is hot!)

-asking about his brother, David Scott, his dad in Arizona (whom he hasn't seen since he was around 15 years old), his sister, Nana--whom he heard has a new car and wants to ride in it and "get ice cream with her."

-and the eternal question: "What are we DOING tonight?"

Dean is a planner.

A Go-er and a Do-er.

The drive home is longer than two hours

because Colorado is having what the weathermen call

"Monsoon-like weather"--

it's raining bucketfulls 

flooding the streets in low spots

so traffic is backed-up to New Mexico

and it's getting dark.

I asked Dean some random questions

on the way,

like

"What did Heavenly Father send you down to earth to do, buddy?"

He thinks for a moment--

and I'm expecting some sweet spiritual thought--

"To pay wrent, wurk hawrd, and pay taxes."


Touche young Skywalker, touche.
I wonder if Dean knew The Plan
from the beginning
and chose to skip out on the whole
"Normal" scene
just so he wouldn't have to pay rent & taxes.
I've always said he's smarter than the rest of us.
Totally true.

He can, in fact, sense a
disturbance in the Force--
anyone comes in the front door
or
heaven forbid LEAVES without him,
it is noticed asap.
We try to spell words
when we're making plans...
Nana: We're thinking of G-O-I-N-G to the
M-O-V-I-E-S.
Momza: To see?
Dani: T-O-Y....
Momza: S-t-o-r-y?
Dean: Toy Stowy! Moovee! YESSSSSS!
Momza: How about  D-e-s-p-i-c-a-b-l-e-M-e?
Dani: Spell that agai....o wait, I got it.
Nana: D-E-S-P? O Oh yeah. Let's D-O that.
Dean: Do...Doooo...YESSSS!!!

The missionaries are there because it's
Saturday --and we feed them breakfast every Saturday...
one announces he is totally lost in the conversation.
We've been spelling things for years...
one time
when the yahoos were little,
I said in the car,
"When we get home, you guys are takin' a N-A-P!"
To which Deano responded, "No Nap!"

See what I mean?
Smarter.

At Church he likes to lead the music
with his air wand,
and he repeats the Hymn page loud enough
so that every one within 8 rows can hear...
thoughtful young Skywalker.
If the speaker tells a joke,
and Dean is in the congregation,
his laughter fills the room.
He wants to meet everyone there,
but is so shy at first,
he barely raises his eyes to meet a new person.
A people person, definitely.

His trip ended Monday,
and he was ready to Go to Work--
he hates missing even an hour.
I think he's got more figured out
than I ever will.

Rainy Days in Colorado

We've gotten some great rain storms this summer...

and while I love it,

the yahoos

do

not.

But they do show their creativity

on those days:

The Caboose Presents:

Barbie in St. Tropez

 Momza: Why is she in the sink?

Caboose: That's a waterbed.

 Momza: And why are the cars on the hamper?

C: Their garage.

Momza: What's Ken doing?

C: Getting a waterbackmassage.

Momza:  What about Barbie?

C: She's just waiting her turn.

Momza: And why is all that stuff on the floor?

C: It was annoying me.

Hmmm...got it.

And now we switch channels

to the Boofus' Military Network:

 He's rigged a zipline from the staricase to the front battlefield lines of the livingroom:

 in a blueberry container...

 And the rest of the troops,

are all undercover!

Rain is Good for Growth

in alot of ways...

grow little kids, grow.

A Missionary's Birthday

We had a missionary in our area,

Elder Grilliot, from IL.

come over and share his birthday with us.

 He'd rec'd a package from home, and opened it at our house.

I laughed when he pulled each item out of the box....

 Necktie.

 White shirt.

 Black socks.

 Contacts cleanser.

Homemade chocolate chip cookies.

Typical

Typical

Typical

Oh yeah, I made him point to his eye,

for the contact cleaner stuff.

It was either that 

or take his pulse.

My Home Is Not A Dump Station

I had a "light bulb moment" this week...
an epiphany,
if you will...
here it is:

Sometimes a home
is mistaken for a
dumpster:
instead of slimy banana peels, wadded up napkins,
used cans of corn and empty bread bags,
there is an attitude of
fussy
whiny
ingratitude.

The realization came when I noticed
la familia
saving their "worldly trash"
for me and our home.

I became sensitive lately to it all...
my socially-polite family
goes out into the world,
functions at their best,
uses their best manners to deflect
awkwardness, rudeness, negativity
and that which isn't deflected
is brought into the front door,
dumped out.
And then--
BAM!
before I know it,
I am covered in the smudge of their lives
outside of my house.

I work hard to make my home
a place
I want to be
and
a place my family wants to be too--
and I realized I don't like it
when my family comes in and
wrecks up the peace!

So, at dinnertime last night,
I spoke to them all about their
dumping habits
and I declared that my home
is
not a Dump Station!

Truly,
I told the family how their dumping affects me
and while I am fine to listen to their trials and challenges,
as in, "I had a crummy day because....",
it is when they come home
snippy
fussy
whiny
that it's not fair to expect me to have to listen to it
and then smile back at them!
If we want our home to be a haven,
it's up to us to create it!
Hear! Hear!
"he that hath ears to hear,
let him hear!"
And you know what?
I think they listened.
Mr. Wonderful agreed that it's hard to go out into the world,
and not bring that negativity back through the front door,
but it's also true
we just don't need that stuff in here.
I'm trying to think of some visual reminder
I can put outside for the yahoos
by the front door
that will help them
leave the
"trash"
outside.
A trash can would look awful,
so I'm thinking
with my thinker
so we'll see.
Any ideas?? Hmmm??

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