There's a Bxxb in There!

Tonight I was reading Evan a story about Gorillas. It was sweet. He was listening and talking really loud about the gorilla and everything in the book.

After the story he was sitting on my lap. I asked if we could have snuggles, and he laid his head down. After 3.2 seconds he pops his head up, reaches down my shirt, and states, "There's a bxxb in there, there's a bxxb in there."

It is so funny because he is asking me to nurse again after at least six months, and I have no idea where he learned the word bxxb. Funny Baby Boy...

I can't actually use the word because some dirty person might google "that" word and come to my web site...yuk! That is why there are x's instead of o's. Now you know....

Cowboy Dan Is At It Again

This morning Cowboy Dan has roped a calf "previously known as Cowboy" to eat and has given Super McNutty a Mohawk. Yesterday at the zoo he rode a buckin' stallion with "Cowboy" at his side. They are quite the pair as long as I keep them reined in.

Steve and the three youngest at the zoo.



Cowboy Dan and Cowboy on their buckin' stallions.



Amanda and her beautiful smile!

Freak

This whole episode with Evan has turned me into a paranoid freak. It has taken me almost 48 hours to somewhat snap out of this feeling of dread and complete failure. Isn't it weird that you can succeed at many things, but one thing goes wrong and you feel like a failure as a parent. In eighteen years I have never had anything like this happen to one of my kids. Until Evan. Until now. I just have to keep refocusing telling myself he is safe, and we fixed the problem three times over so he can't do it again. But, I still find it hard to sleep. So, I write away as he sleeps, and in a couple of hours I will hold him and thank God that he is safe.

It is truly amazing how many stories I have heard in the last two days about two year olds escaping from their safe surroundings. Only two year olds! An older couple in line at Lowes, friends, strangers. I am not alone in my experience, but it still scared five years off my life.

Escape Artist

I have an escape artist living in my home disguised as a two year old. This morning after Steve went to work, and I was still sleeping, Evan decided he wanted to take a walk with his elephant and his drum.

He ALWAYS comes and crawls in bed with me, but not this morning. It was such a nice gray day that he walked down the street to the end of the block. Yes, the end of the block. There was a nice utility lady that brought him home.

Later, the nice policeman showed up at my house. I knew something was wrong prior to the policeman arriving because the door was not bolt-locked when I came downstairs. I knew he had escaped at that point, but I had no idea he had gone on a journey to the end of the street. I think I'll puke now! The police officer was very nice. This is worth mentioning because he could have been a real jerk and made my life miserable. I invited him in so he could see that it was simply a 2-year-old thing. I have kept 5 children completely safe before him. I am a good mom. I am a good mom. I am a good mom. I am trying to convince myself.

I am off to Lowes to get every kind of escape artist prevention paraphernalia I can find. A sensor for his bedroom door and the top of the stairs, a latch for the front door that even I will have to stand on a chair to reach, and a bar for the slider. Then I am going to buy superglue for all the windows and dismantle the garage door opener. Maybe then he will be safe and sound...

Update: My house is now so secure that if you open any door in the house, including his bedroom door, an alarm goes off that will shatter your eardrums or wake the dead...

Evan's response...He goes over, opens the front door, and says, "It's wooking", with a large grin on his face. I need an margarita...

No Tip For You

What do YOU do when the pizza man comes to the door with his fly down?

Pot-Banger

I am writing because my husband is watching a pot-banger. You know what I'm talking about. It is the kind of movie that makes you get up and wash dirty pans or wash his dirty undies because you would rather do anything else but watch it. Guess what it is? Rambo. Ya, I know. Hello. Is there anything that could be worse. I thought last night was bad when he was watching Spiderman. But, no. It is worse tonight.

Steve loves to make fun of my red-neck sayings. I will say something and he will laugh. He is not the laugh out loud kind of guy so it gives him a real kick to hear me humiliate myself by using words like pot-banger. When I told him he was watching a pot-banger last night he actually said, "Go write that word on your blog." Then he laughed. Some of his other favorites are switch-back or gully-washer. Notice how they are all hyphenated? Why is that? Red necks only know how to speak in hyphenated words? I also use words like ebow and musim. (Elbow and Museum) The sad thing is I actually think these are words that the everyday citizen of the United States uses.

Oh, well. I grew up in a county that had 500 people in it, most of whom were, let's just say, a little unpolished and close in relations to one another. I was a transplant to this little mountain town in Colorado. Not bred or born there much to my relief. I'll save those stories for another day. I kind of like using these words though, and hey, anything to keep him entertained....

The Friendliest Man Alive

You have probably meet or at least been affected by the friendliest man alive. You have sat next to him on an airplane or fought fire next to him in one of the many wild fires that have blazed across the forests of our nation. You know the guy. He was the one with a cast on his leg. Maybe you have operated on him in some fashion or aided in his healing. Maybe you have climbed the same snow-capped peak. I can't imagine that there are very many people who have not been affected by this man.

It all started back in 1940 when Chester Virgil and Princess Dorothea got what I imagine was the surprise of their lives. It had been eight years since they had heard the word, "Congratulations! You are going to have a baby." They weren't young. Their children were older, and now they got to do it all over again. But, just like many of us have found out, God doesn't always follow our plan, and for that I am thankful. So, on this day, August 18, in the year 1940 God blessed this world with a baby named David Marquis. He arrived to this world in Monmouth, Illinois. He lived on Dime Hill.

He is my daddy, and I am amazed by this man. He loves Jesus in a world that doesn't. He loves my mama and has done so for 39 years and counting. He loves his children and his grandchildren unconditionally, even when we don't deserve it. He is loyal. He is the hardest working man I have or ever will meet. He has overcome obstacles without giving up. He is an example of persistence.

I am blessed to have been born the oldest daughter of this man. Through him I have experienced things most people don't get to. My kids always want my childhood. They want to do the things I did because they were so adventurous. Not much in my younger years is considered normal, but boy do I have the stories to tell around the campfire because I was raised by this man. Marquis calls them "Grandpa Stories". We all tell them to our kids.

His children all strive to be like him in some way, even if we don't know it. This summer the three of us went to California with our families. To save $10 we shoved all 16 of us in the mini van to drive to Disneyland. Granted it was only two blocks, but we were able to look at his 10 grandchildren who were all there that day and tell them it was a grandpa moment. As they were smelling their cousins' they got it. The stench of one another after walking around Disneyland for hours in 105 degree weather burned the memory into their hearts. We learned how to make memories from the best. Last week my family went camping, and I officially reached a bench mark in becoming more like my father. I scared my kids. I told the scariest story ever by the light of the campfire, and they were SCARED. My kids love to look at me and tell me I am acting just like grandpa. I do hope I have the integrity and love towards others that my father has.

Happy Birthday, David Marquis! You are quite the man!

A Little Black Boy

Here is a little tale I wrote a few months back, but hadn't ever posted. Since I am out of material today I'll post this....

A little black boy came streaking through my house today. He was happy, laughing and showing off. I could here others laughing as he came towards me. He was in his glory. He loves the spotlight just like his big sister, Coral. Evan decided that the fireplace looked like a fun place to play this morning. Fortunately I had put off my motherhood responsibilities and not dressed the boy. Now as I sit here writing I know he is in the kitchen covered in cheerios that have been cemented on by peanut butter. I would much rather sit here and write this than venture around the corner to what awaits me, but I am being called. His new thing is to dump his bowl of food once he has "finished". That does not mean he has emptied the bowl of it's contents before he dumps it all over the floor. Joey, our dog, is his best friend. In between episodes he is the cleanest little 22 month old boy on the planet. He gets between two and four baths per day. Do you know how hard suet is to get off human skin?

The Smell of Heaven

There are just a few smells that I imagine heaven might smell like. One would be the top of one of my freshly bathed babies heads. You know the smell. The other is the ocean. It always takes me by surprise...The first smell of the ocean each time I go there. Maybe it is because when I was little we would drive from the mountains of Colorado to the coast of Mexico. We would ALWAYS get to the ocean at night, and my mom would always say, "Can you smell it." I still remember clearly those nights of arriving at the ocean after days of driving in the fifth-wheel with my siblings, beating the heck out of each other across much of North America while my parents drove in the peaceful quite of the truck cab. Fortunately, we always arrived in one piece, and we would get out and smell the ocean.
This past weekend we were able to get this amazing campsite at Cape Disappointment here in The Pacific Northwest. It is where the Columbia feeds into the Pacific Ocean. The whole time I sounded like a tour director. I wanted to make sure my kids knew that people come from all over the world to see this amazing site, and they were there. I didn't want them to take advantage of the fact that just because it was in the same state they lived in that it wasn't an amazing thing to see. We walked from our campsite to the ocean, and I could smell it. I guess it doesn't take to much to make me happy, because right at that moment all the stress in me melted away, and I was at peace. Then I saw it. It is kind of like childbirth. It doesn't matter how many times you experience it. Each time is like the first time. Each time is unique. Each time is a miracle.

Babies or Weapons?

Today my adorable little blondies are running around with "babies" in their shirts. It is cute. They also have little tiny water balloons that they are taking care of because they make great babies. I remember when the girls did the exact same thing. The only difference is my sweet little girls never punched each other trying to get the other's "baby" out of their shirt to play basketball with or tossed their poor little "water baby" across the yard when it had served it's purpose and suddenly became a weapon. Ah, the male species. Interesting everyday.

A Woman

"A Woman"

This is written in the Hebrew Talmud,
the book where all of the sayings and preaching
of Rabbis are conserved over time.
It says:

"Be very careful if you make a woman cry,
because God counts her tears.

The woman came out of a man's rib.
Not from his feet to be walked on.

Not from his head to be superior,
but from the side to be equal.

Under the arm to be protected,
and next to the heart to be loved."

Screwdriver Behind My Eye

I looked up pictures of migraines on the internet. Interesting....this one kind of feels like today. I know I am dramatic. I haven't experienced migraines for about four years thanks to being pregnant or nursing. But, my body has finally decided it is time to kick back into gear and hit me hard once a month. I woke up this morning with what felt like a screwdriver behind my left eye digging, gouging, scraping and every other descriptive word that a screwdriver could do to ones eye. It was great. Amanda had to be a Vacation Bible School, I was suppose to have coffee with a friend, I have a bunch of kids. You know, Life. No one put a "Do not disturb because mommy has a migraine" sign on my door. I do have to say though that I am blessed with one of the world's best teenagers. She definitely is "normal" when it comes to being a hormonal teenage girl, but when duty calls she steps up to the plate and complains very little. She had a friend over who drives~I know! Isn't that exciting! No really! I'm serious. So, her friend took care of Amanda, my friend who was waiting to have coffee with me prayed for me, and I only had to get out of bed once because Coral was so awesome with helping make sure every thing went smoothly. Luckily I got my hands on some medicine, and I could actually feel it expanding the blood vessels in my brain. Wow. That was fun. I almost lost the three crackers I had eaten today when that sensation came upon me. Oh yah, I did forget to mention that Coral was driving at the exact moment I could feel my brain freaking out. She was being helpful...Behind the wheel of my van. I couldn't find my sun glasses so I had to wear Steve's safety sunglasses. They went with the rest of the fashion statement that I was making. I did manage to put on a bra for this special occasion of leaving the house, though, just in case someone I knew came out to the van at church or we got pulled over for Coral's fabulous driving skills. Not that that was likely mind you. I kept my "lunch" down, got home from picking up Amanda from VBS, and went back to bed until 2:30 PM. I finally was able to open my left eye at that time. I am much better tonight. I can still feel the aftershocks, and my muscles all over my body feel like I have been working out...Um, yah right. Oh boy! I can't wait for next month. I love being a woman....

Good Nights

I am trying to think of something funny someone did today, but frankly I am exhausted. Having a four year old boy topped off with a two year old boy is exhausting. I have never experienced this kind of energy level in two human beings in my life. But, fortunately night always comes. Bath, clean PJ's, clean teeth, two stories, prayers, "fresh" water in their sippy cups, and they go to bed. Every night like clock work. They actually lay down in their beds and go to sleep in the same room. Very seldom do they get out of bed for any reason. It is like viewing a miracle every night. 11 hours later they hit the ground running. I am thankful for nights.

Sky Diving?

Last night Steve and I watched a teaching, and the guy was talking about his cousin putting on his boots one morning, kissing his family goodbye, and then dying at age 27 at his work, leaving his family and friends. Then he talked about if it were the last day....You know the rest...What would you want the final "pictures" of your life to be, and with whom. It is all stuff we have heard before, maybe it's PMS, but I really felt challenged to think through this. So, I started at Evan and Ian. They are simple. They want to be snuggled. That is all it takes really. A story in mommy or daddies arms. Then I worked my way up the line, and it became much more challenging. How do you connect each day with your older children and your spouse so that they know that they are the most important thing in this world to you? This is not easy. I think I will ask them, "If today were the last day we could spend together what would we do? You know, what would we really do." We could all pretend we would go sky diving, ride a bull, look at the ocean, whatever country song comes to mind, but is that really what we would do with the last day of our existence here on earth. We would most likely look those we love the most in the eye and make sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that they knew we loved them, adored them, treasured them, make sure we have told them about Jesus' love for them, and every other thing that we could possibly think of that would bring them comfort in this life. Then we would hold them. So, I will ask my children. Maybe they will make it easy on me and have some great insight into their being. Maybe they won't. Either way I will make a new effort everyday to clean less, hold my babies more, listen to my kids when they talk to me, and make sure I have hugged each one of my family members and told them how much I love them. I never want them to doubt that, so I will tell them more.

I Am

Evan is being a booger about nap time lately, so yesterday I was laying down with him because "he" was exhausted and needed a rest. I know, I know, two year olds don't get exhausted, but their mommies need them to take naps. So, as I am laying there with him he is driving his "car" (his little fist) along with sound effects up one arm and down the other and running over everything inbetween. I am trying to rest. I am exhausted. I say to him, "We aren't playing cars right now, Evan." Evan says in his cute, gifted, little voice, "I am." Matter of fact, plain as day. His thoughts...You may not be, mom, but I sure am. See!
So cute. So verbally developed. So genius. My son... Once he finally went to sleep he slept for 4 hours. Steve had to wake him up for dinner. The little booger. This is his "I'm not sleepy even though I've been on an Amtrak train for 24 hours, a mini van for 8 and drug around Disneyland for three days" look.

My Friend

I don't have anything to say that is humorous, clever, sarcastic, or witty. I am grieving for my friend who lost her grandmother. So, I am sad. I am grateful though that she knows the Lord and no longer suffers. What an amazing thing to stand before the God who gave you life, pain free, praising Him for eternity. What a blessing to have something so awesome to look forward to when we are all done with this.

Change

"Change is not merely necessary to life -- IT IS LIFE." ~ Alvin Toffler

Above a quote that I found on a web sight about a man with Lou Gehrig's Disease from the town I lived in when I was in high school, was married, and had Tif.


It struck me....Change...Required to mature, required to grow, required to thrive. Necessary, beneficial in the end, yet dreaded and fought with intensity even though it is a driving force required for our very existence. Good night.