Clogged Brain

My brain is clogged. I can't seem to think of anything to say these days. Somedays I can write three entries, but not right now. I am having a hard time talking to my family...And I'm a woman. Do women ever really run out of things to say? To much stress in too few days. Things work themselves out, but man can the ride be bumpy.....I'll be back! Don't worry... :-)

Life is Grand

Today Evan learned how to hop. He walks around with his hand in the pocket of his jeans. He also can get himself out of his crib now, and he's not even two. My favorite word today is arrow, Ian's is fish food, and Evan's is notebook. Can you guess what we were watching? Ian got a box of hand-me-downs from Alec and Justin. He was more excited than at Christmas. The simple things that make me smile and make all this worth while.

Don't Ever!

After being a parent for almost 18 years my biggest piece of advice is...Are you ready?....DON'T EVER try to paint with a two year old boy in the house.

I like THE RAIN

It is raining. The weather gave us a taste of summer and then smacked us in the face with the most rain I have seen in years, I think. It is amazing. My kids assure me that it is normal Northwest spring rain, but it seems like more to me. Amazingly enough~I actually wanted it to rain. That's right. Pick yourselves up off the floor~I wanted it to rain. I know I have publicly humiliated my husband, my mother-in-law, and my children for liking the rain, and for that I am sorry. I just well, didn't get it. To a certain degree I still don't get it like they do and most likely never will. They "LIKE" THE RAIN. I like the rain. There is a difference. But, back to the reason I wanted it to rain. It had been beautiful for a month. I mean really beautiful. Sometimes Hot Beautiful. I am really into my yard this year, and I am trying to get things to actually grow under my care. I dug little trenches around my plants and taught Ian how to lightly fill up the trenches one at a time. He is so patient, looking for my approval. Arlene, my amazing mother-in-law, brought me clippings from Steve's Grammie's grape vines on Mother's Day, and I am passionate about them surviving. It is crucial to me that they survive. They are a part of her and Granddad. I want them to grow and flourish under my care so that my children and husband can continue to eat Grammie and Granddad's grapes, and so that in the fall I can be reminded of them when the wonderful aroma of home grown grapes fills my home. So, when they started getting weepy and wilty I wanted rain. Lots of rain to make them grow healthy and strong. It is working, and it makes me very happy. That is why I like the rain. It makes things grow...

The Storyteller

Today I have a guest writer appearing on my blog. Amanda is a 10 year old budding writer from Washington. Enjoy!

The Story Teller

We all sat in a circle around the campfire. It was dark outside. The only light was coming from the stars overhead and the campfire. The fire blew smoke in our faces. My grandpa started to tell a really scary story. It was about a ghost town! I had to have my back to a tree because I was so fearful. Grandpa paused at the truly scary parts to make it even scarier than it was. He made his voice go with the story so much that he terrified himself. All his hair went up on his arm! When he heard a noise he turned his head like something was there. I wanted to scream because I was so petrified!
When we went to bed I still felt so afraid. I would have felt a little better if I was in a house, but I wasn't. I was in a non-protected tent, and that scared me even more. Grandpa is coming to my house soon, and I can't wait for another ghost story.

Written by Amanda

CRAZY LAUGHTER

AHHHH HAAA HAAA HAA AHHHHHH HAAAA HAAA HAA AHHHH HAAA HAAA HAA AHHHHHH HAAAA HAAA HAA AHHHH HAAA HAAA HAA AHHHHHH HAAAA HAAA HAA AHHHH HAAA HAAA HAA AHHHHHH HAAAA HAAA HAA more cackling, UNREASONABLE laughing noises. I HAVE TEENAGERS IN MY HOUSE....

He Actually Asked Me To Do This!

Ian, my favorite subject matter lately, always announces to me when he needs to go to the bathroom. I have the feeling that I may be getting phone calls when he goes off to college...I don't know. Anyway last night he makes his announcement right before bed. He was playing with a remote control that had lights so going potty was not on the top of his list of what he wanted to be doing with his time. So, he looks and me and says, "Can you put the lid up for me and pull down my pants." Um, NO, but thanks for asking. The remote control required two hands to operate. Evan was looking on in amazement at the whole thing. Needless to say, as much as I love my son and want to be a helpful mommy, I declined. I told him he had to do it himself....For which I received a sigh and an eye roll that he picked up from one of the teenagers... Why do I have so many urine stories about these boys?

All That Work and It Wound Him Up

I am sitting here at 10:56 PM and there is a little blonde haired, green eyed, (Yes, like his mama) boy sitting in the chair across the room from me. You think to yourself, "What a horrible mama. That precious little child should be tucked in his warm bed fast asleep." Tsk, Tsk!) He has been tucked in his bed, twelve or so times. He can't sleep. We have done everything to make this boy tired. I was sure that tonight would be a 7:30 pm night. He baked his little brain in the sun all day, ate lots of sugary pop cycles that should have raised then dropped his blood sugar, had Bible Study time with Daddy, warm milk with Coral, etc, etc, etc. Now he is sitting here wide awake asking me what orange and green make and why I haven't killed the giant spider in the corner that he told me about this morning. He said he is going to go get the "smacker". Anyway, he is now picking at my arm and crying "Kill the spider, mommy. Kill that thingy hanging from the ceiling." So I guess I should go be his hero, because now he is "not doing anything wrong". He is tattooing himself with a red pen. It is now 11:06. So much can happen in 10 minutes.

Red Blooded Stud Muffin

Don't worry. This is only PG-not PG-13. I realized that in all the hustle and bustle of our lives that some days I forget that I am married to a Red Blooded Stud Muffin. Every once in awhile something he says will remind me loud and clear that my gentle spirited husband is indeed all male. Two examples in one day were enough to send me blogging! While reading my entry about my mother he comments to me that I should remove the H and the I from my Blog title. I stood staring trying to figure out what he could possible be talking about. Smiling he explained, "Then it would be called C Cup." Oh ya. I forgot. Life is about one big boob. 2. I thanked him for putting my new picnic table together and he said, "It wasn't that hard, just assembly, ...Except for the kids." (The boys had their hammers, saws, and screw drivers "helping" daddy put together mommy's Mother's Day present. The testosterone levels were high in the backyard!) I think to myself, I have been trying to clean toilets, wash dishes, mop floors, grocery shop, etc. For 18 years. "It isn't that hard, except for the kids." And he wonders why he walks in the door at night and his dinner isn't on the table, and I haven't showered. These things would be easy if I didn't have a fully dressed two year old crawling in the shower with me saying, Nuse, Nuse every time he saw the hiCCUPS, or a house full of kids that seem to only need me for vital projects right when I am trying to make dinner. My friend, Krista, named it pirana (sp?) hour. I will say that it is all worth it though. There would be very little life here without the kids. Two well rested people sitting at a perfectly assembled picnic table, but no life.

Happy Mother's Day, Wanda Mae!

My Mama has always been my hero (even when I was 16 and didn't know it). She is an amazing women. I have never meet anyone who works harder or strives to be the best that she can be. Despite the bumps in the road she has faced my mother has persevered and succeeded in too many areas to mention today, but here are a few. My mom has cerebral palsy, and despite that she married a man that could be described as nothing less than the normal red blooded American white male. That of course is an accomplishment all by itself. Not only did she marry him, but she has stayed married to him. They just celebrate their 39th wedding anniversary, May 10. This is a pretty amazing accomplishment in today's culture. Her love for my dad is a shinning example of how a woman should love her husband, and her dedication to him is worth mentioning. I thank her for the example she has given me as a wife, and I can only hope to do it as well as she has. She had three healthy, wonderfully talented children of which I am proudly the eldest...And that is starting to mean something these days...Eldest. She raised us to love Jesus, be respectful of those around us, and gave us all an amazing work ethic. She loves us all unconditionally. For example she didn't kill us or stick us in a barrel and plug up the hole when we were teenagers. Coming from a mother of 4 teenage daughters...WOW! She loves our spouses and children in a very comforting way. Even though my mom lives far away from her kids and grandkids there is a security that if we ever needed her she would be on a plane and be here as quickly as her little legs could carry her. There are no words to tell you how much I love and respect my mother. All I can say is I love her and thank her for the past 38 years. Without her I would not have life.

What Three Year Old Boys Say

The other day Ian had his first real play date. He and his friend Aaron were so excited. They are adorable together. But there are just some things a three year old boy should not say to another three year old boy. Aaron is from a very large family, larger than ours. He has lots of older brothers. He likes to teach Ian stuff...like how to dive off the playstructure and while in midair land in the swing two feet away. Well amazingly enough it worked most of the time. After Ian's first attempt he did it! As I was looking on in amazement trying to not interfere with my boy being a boy, (Steve was home so I couldn't screech at the top of my lungs as I saw my son diving head first toward the hard packed ground) I hear Aaron say, "I told you you wouldn't die!" Huh... "I told you you wouldn't die!" That will be a moment that sticks with me for awhile...and they are only three...what will Aaron teach him when they are 16 :-)

Mamma's in a Coma

I threw my neck muscle out, Amanda is taking her neb for the umpteenth time, Steve is sleeping like a baby, and I am writing to my fan club. Where are the rest of the kids you ask? Um...I don't know because right before Amanda's asthma attack I took cough medicine. Not the kind that you get over the counter, but the kind you pay $50 for and the doctor winks at you and says..."Do you want it to knock you out?" While he is writing your prescription. You answer heck yes, I haven't slept for two maybe three weeks. Bring it on. So you sneak 1 1/2 tsp rather than the prescribed one thinking to yourself...no one will notice. You are happy, happy, happy because the kids will have to wake daddy up because mamma's in a coma. Then before you can crawl up the stairs to bed all He_ _ breaks loose and your husband has to actually leave the house past 9pm to get medicine from the pharmacy because you can't drive. He doesn't LIKE to leave the house between 5:00pm and 5:00am. Not only can you not drive but when you speak to the answering machine at the doctor's office pleading for help you leave a totally random phone number that makes your husband open the bathroom door while he is taking care of business and look at you like you are from outer space...Saying "What number did you just give them?" Yes, it is the doctor that you chewed out just the day before for being clueless! At this point they are wondering, "Why did we not call this woman back about her antidepressants." I need sleep.

The Intruder

I stood there just staring and speechless. He stared back. I terrified, sweating, shaking. He calm, not moving a muscle. There he was. Standing in my laundry room hunched down in the corner. He came in from the garage door which I thought was locked. An intruder in my house. Intruders aren't safe. They want to harm my children and me. Steve, where was Steve? There was no man to protect me. I had to fight him off all by myself. How can this many thoughts go through one person's mind in a few seconds. So being the brave soul that I am looked for the nearest weapon. My bottle of Clorox, my broom? No, laundry baskets and my cat. Quick on my feet I barricaded him in with the laundry baskets and threw the cat at him. That got him a little spooked so he ran for cover only to be picked up and tossed around the room a few times like a play thing. The whole time involuntary screams are coming out of me. I am not a screamer. I survived two years as a single mother and have four teenage daughters. I do not scream, yet there I was involuntarily screeching at the top of my lungs. I ran for cover, slamming the laundry room door behind me. I shiver and shake. My hair stands on end as I dance around the kitchen. My children look on in ah that something could actually get this kind of reaction out of their ever in control mother. Ehm. You can see that they are interested in this power that can actually turn their mother into a maniac, and they want to know what that is. They want to use that power. I regain my composure and decide I need to make sure that I know whether or not the intruder is still in my house, has become cat pooh, or is in waiting to watch the dancing freak. So I bang loudly on the door to warn that I am coming in. More involuntary screams as I dance about looking on at my freeloading cat. Finally he turns and leaves. The intruder that is. A little shaken, but no real reaction. Never to be seen again. I throw the cat out in the garage and tell him if he ever wants to eat again at my expense he will learn to be a real man and protect his home. Then I call my neighbor who owns snakes and ask for help. No, I did not want to let the snake loose in my home. I wanted the neighbor to come be my knight in shining armor since my husband was off making a living. How dare him. My neighbor didn't answer so my solution? DUCT TAPE...And lots of it. Every nook and cranny between my home and the garage is duct taped. Not just any duct tape, but bright red Winco $1.99 per roll duct tape. The kind that screams to my husband as he walks by, "There is a problem here. Please fix me so your wife doesn't have an aesthetic breakdown before the day is over." The next step? Spend this weeks paycheck on bait, traps, any inhuman paraphernalia that will concur the intruder if he ever tries to return. All this..For a field mouse that the good fairy is constantly trying to turn little bunny Fu Fu into.......