(A Little Too Honest) Confessions of a Bad Mom

I’ve been in a slump.  Like, a big one.  It seems that my life is on repeat on an annoying song that makes me want to pull my hair out and ogre-scream in frustration.

A few weeks ago Josh was watching Groundhog Day. You remember that one.  Bill Murray is living Groundhog Day every day.  The same song wakes him every morning.  The same people greet him, unaware of the repetition of his life.  No matter what, it’s the same thing.  Every. Day. 

I sat watching the movie, mouth agape, at the reflection of my own life.  Every day the same thing.  The alarm goes off.  The kids are woken.  We all get dressed.  The big kids make their lunches as I wrangle the little kids.  We load up in the van and I drop kids off at their respective schools.  I spend the remainder of the day trying to catch up on housework.  This is impossible as I have three little kids home during the day and they are all very capable of undoing any chore I complete.  Laundry folded?  Not anymore. The baby decided to use the folded laundry as a nest envied by every mouse on Earth when my back was turned because the 2-year-old was quiet so I checked on him really quickly only to discover he had tried to get his own snack and was sitting on the floor of the kitchen surrounded by full and empty fruit snack pouches that were once on a high shelf in the pantry in a plastic box with a locking lid.  Not to mention the 3-year-old who keeps squealing at the top of her lungs because her little brother took her spot on the couch, or her book, or her toy, or her turn on the TV, or her breathing space.

And then 3 o’clock hits and the four big kids get home from school wanting food, a nap, TV time, a ride to Scouts or youth activities or a ride home from track or drama club or tutoring.

Within two hours I need to have dinner ready because Josh works nights and if I don’t have food for him he won’t eat until 2am.  Or, sometimes, I have food for him but he ended up sleeping later and doesn’t have time to eat and leaves without the nowhere-near-gourmet dinner I’ve prepared. 

After that it’s the nightly fights of dishes, picking up the toys, getting ready for bed, why didn’t you do your homework earlier?, you need WHAT for school tomorrow?, and just the typical teenage angst/toddler meltdown depending on the age of the kids.  Either way, it’s basically the same thing.

I’m burned out.  I don’t do anything for myself.  And I know why I don’t.  If I take time to do something I want to do, I’m not doing something I should do.  Therefore, I’m not a good mother.  Therefore, I’m selfish.  Or unfit.  Or a bad wife.  Or a horrible housekeeper.  Or a terrible cook/meal planner. 

Who am I even trying to prove myself to?  My husband?  Yes.  My kids? Yes.  My neighbor? Yes.  The girls from church (my only non-virtual social network)?  Yes.  Myself?  No.

No, I’m not trying to prove anything to myself.  Because I already know that I’m a horrible housekeeper.  I already know that I don’t like cooking.  I already know that my kids watch WAY too much TV.  I already know that it takes me a week to finish folding and putting away laundry even if it only takes a day to wash it.

I am not the ideal candidate for being a Pinterest-crafting, housework-loving, creative-playing stay-at-home mom. 

Then why do I even try?

Hence, my depressing dilemma.

I’ve often heard that if you have a question you can ask the Lord and He’ll answer you.  I know that happens.  I’ve experienced it before.  But I decided to see if maybe I’d get lucky at church on Sunday and get some insight as to why my life is so...ugh.

It was Easter Sunday.  Our ward has a new meeting time of 2pm.  It’s still new enough that I haven’t quite figured out how to make it work.  Despite my loathing of scrubbing toilets, I do enjoy creating a good strategy.  A plan.  Lists of all kinds are my friends.  But I don’t have this new meeting time down yet. 

Josh got home from work and we had our Easter egg hunts before he went off to bed.  Then the kids ate candy and played with the new games the Easter Bunny brought while I made dinner: BBQ pulled pork, potato salad, macaroni salad, fruit salad, deviled eggs.  We’d had ham the previous Sunday when family had been in town so I went a different way for dinner.  Specifically, I needed something that we could come home from church at 5:10pm and it would all be magically ready for us to eat since Josh’s shift started at 6pm and he needed to leave by 5:45.  If I stay at church the entire three-hour block I can’t plan to cook anything quickly enough for him to eat before heading out for the night. And I still had to get kids bathed, dressed, combed, and find church shoes.  This needed to be done close enough to church time that they can’t mess themselves up but not so late that we miss the first hour of church.  And somewhere in there I really needed to try to get a shower myself.

To make a long story short, Sunday afternoons are stressful.

Then there’s the whole taking seven kids to church by myself fiasco.  The arguments over who sits by mom and who sat by me last week and who can fit on my lap so the bigger kids can sit next to me and fussy kids because it’s naptime during Sacrament Meeting and I forgot the snacks to keep the little ones quiet.

I tried to focus on the purpose of Sacrament Meeting – partaking of the Sacrament, renewing my baptismal covenants.  My thoughts were quickly distracted from this sacred ordinance as I tried to balance two kids on my lap and make sure they each only took one piece of bread, not a handful, and later that the water they spill from the little cup gets mostly on me and not the floor.  What is supposed to be a spiritual time of meditation and prayer is spent shushing and balancing and grabbing little hands reaching for more “snack.”  I can’t even begin to tell you how unworthy of the Sacrament I feel just admitting all of this.

But I looked forward to the talks about the Savior.  About His sacrifice for us and His gift of resurrection for every person.  And then the thought entered my mind: We’re told Jesus knows each of our sorrows, our griefs.  He experienced all pain in the Garden of Gethsemane.  And the nagging, arrogant, rebellious voice in my head had the audacity to argue that He never experienced my life.  He never knew the monotony of 21^st century routines. He never had little kids that bombarded His every move and kept Him from accomplishing any of His goals or desires.  Of course, I know His life was much more difficult.  He suffered beyond anything I can understand.  But, how does he understand me?

And that’s when it happened. 

I wanted to prove God and His ability to answer my questions.

Despite my pride and self-importance, He sent me a realization.

There had been a special musical number by a young girl on the harp (it was pretty amazing).  Usually there’s only one musical number per meeting, but for some reason there were two that day.  The second musical break was a congregational hymn, Where Can I Turn for Peace?  There were phrases that stuck out to me:

Where is my solace?

Where, when my aching grows…where can I run?

Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?

And then the third verse stunned me into silence and burned tears in my eyes.

He answers privately,

Reaches my reaching

In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend.

“In my Gethsemane”?  MY Gethsemane?  My quiet corner of the world (or just my mind) where I suffer alone.  My attempts to give everything I have to everyone else and leave nothing for myself.  My quiet pleadings for solace but not knowing when they will ever be answered, if they even can be.

I realized, this was what I was experiencing.  Not a slump.  Not a monotonous routine to be endured.  My own Gethsemane where I felt alone, wounded, overwhelmed.  Suffering.

But as the hymn explains, I am not alone.  My Savoir and Friend is there with me.  I have a hard job right now.  My job description includes many things I am not good at or don’t enjoy doing.  My husband works hard to provide for us and is often either at work or asleep.  I do a lot on my own.  But I am never alone.  He guides me when I know I need to intercede in my teenager’s life.  He inspires me with individual responses to each of my children.  He reminds me of my goals and my ability to accomplish them in the past.  He prompts me with motivation to make our home livable and meals edible so it’s a delight (or at least not a dread) for Josh to come home to.

Of course, there’s no immediate solution to any of my troubles.  It took me three days to finally sit down to write this out because I felt it necessary to do other chores before the “frivolousness” of writing my feelings.  And there are toys strewn across the floor, the kitchen needs a good scrubbing, and towels need to be washed.  But there seems to be a bit more perspective now.  What’s important?  A clean house?  Yes.  Is it the most important? Well, sometimes it is.  Right now, though, I need to remember what I need.  And right now I need to recognize the good in my life.  My family.  My Savior.  Easter Sunday can be buried by the expectations of the obligatory Easter Bunny, or egg hunts, or rushing to church on time.  But really, it’s about the Savior and His Gethsemane for us.  For me.  In His Gethsemane he suffered for me.  In my Gethsemane he suffers with me. He does understand me.

 And He loves me anyway.

Josh and the Croc

I was flipping through the pictures on my phone and found one that needs to be documented.

On our anniversary we went to Scottsdale for the evening.  We stopped at Outback Steakhouse for dinner, went to the movie theater to watch The Avengers, and then stayed at a hotel.  Of course, the next day we went to the hospital and had a baby, but that's a different story.

We went to the restaurant and the hostess took us to a booth.  I asked Josh which side of the table he wanted to sit on and he said, "I know I can't sit and look up at that thing on the wall behind you."  I looked up at the wall and saw the crocodile.  Josh was shocked that I hadn't noticed it sooner.  But what do I care if there's a stuffed croc on the wall?

Unfortunately for Josh, he did care.

My husband is incredible.  He's a big, strong stud that makes me laugh and often brings me flowers.  But if he has any weakness it is this.... he's afraid of crocodiles.  

He thought he would be okay sitting with his back to the croc on the wall.  But almost immediately he began squirming.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as his imagination convinced him that the stuffed wall ornament was about to crawl down onto his back.

I don't want to make light of Josh's fear.  I know it's real.  He can't even watch crocodiles snapping on TV.  But he's a good daddy.  Once when Abby was about a year old she sat on his lap while they watched television together and a crocodile snapped at the TV camera.  Josh nearly jumped off the couch, but before the croc could attack from the TV, he held Abby up over his head to protect her from it.  See?  Good daddy.

I find this fear cute and completely endearing.

I love Josh.  

And I love that we had to move tables within about two minutes of attempting to sit under the crocodile on the wall.  

The Phantom...Is Here Inside My Mind

There are some things my family loves:

Pizza

Disneyland

LDS Temples

and 

Phantom of the Opera

Every night for the last week I've listened to the three older kids sing selections from the soundtrack to Phantom of the Opera as they clean up the kitchen.

So when Josh suggested we go to Vegas to watch the show before it closes at the end of the summer, I told him we could never tell the kids we went.  They'd freak out.  Luckily for our children, they have the coolest dad ever and he said, "Then let's all go."

And we are.  It's our Valentine's gift to our family.  A night in Vegas staying at the Mirage.

And then a trip to the Venetian for a couple hours as our family creates memories we will (hopefully) always remember.

The only bummer is we will need to leave Millie behind.  Oh, the sadness of being 3 and energetic.  But someday we'll make more memories with her included.

In the meantime, I am so excited to go with our family and enjoy a night of theatre.

Date Morning

Most people will shout for joy when they get to experience Date Night. 

When you live with a night-shifter, your schedule goes a bit caddywhompus.  There are all sorts of things you do differently.

• We eat dinner early (5 - 5:30pm) so he can eat with us before he leaves for the night.
• Days off are not real days off unless there are at least 2 scheduled in a row.  Otherwise the day off is overshadowed by his need to sleep and recover from working the night before.
• Doctor, dentist and other appointments must be carefully scheduled around sleep-time, not work-time.
• Cleaning the Master Bath and/or Bedroom is tricky when he's sleeping during the day and your cleaning capacity functions better before dinner.
• AND, Date Night is rarely an option.  A much more viable option is Date Morning

So this morning, at about 9am we headed off to our date.  First, we went bowling.  In case you didn't know, East Mesa, AZ, is notorious for housing senior citizens.  And this just happened to be where the bowling alley was located.  We pulled into the parking lot and I was surprised to see it so full of cars. 

I had no idea so many senior citizens bowled together on Monday mornings.




Josh and Millie bowling together


We were easily the youngest people there by at least 30 years.  The group next to us was probably in their 70s.  But, man, did those old people know how to have fun!

Every time Millie bowled, she'd turn around and start jumping and yelling, "I did it!  I did it!"

Josh is a good bowler.

That's right.  I had 5 gutter balls.  And this was my best game.  What of it???

I am not.

After that we decided to grab some lunch and then head to the new LDS Gilbert, AZ Temple. 

It's still very much a work in progress, but it was really cool to stop by the Visitor Trailer to see so many of the plans of what it will all look like sometime in 2013. 

The tall spires are the elevator shafts.  They stand 53' high.  The Angel Moroni will cap the temple at 193' high, an additional 140' above the elevator shafts.  It's hard to understand how grand that will be from the pictures because it's hard to understand how grand that will be even when you look at it in person.

And a temple only 15 miles away from home!  How great will that be???

And that, my friends, is a Date Morning.  We got home in plenty of time to then separate to run different errands, but it was a wonderful morning while it lasted.

A Few Comparisons

I decided to interrupt my movie challenge with some photo fun I had tonight.

Which kid is which? 

Okay, it's an easy one, but thought I'd share my fun.

Plus, I found these treasures too.

The one on the left was taken of me in 1998 when my BFF Cindy and I went to Disneyland together.  I thought this was a silly enough picture to send to the guy from my new ward that was on a mission -- the same guy whose mom tricked me into writing her son, a man I'd never met before.  Said guy received this picture and thought it was the weirdest thing to receive, but decided to give me another chance.  That former missionary is on the right with two of our four children.  He's trying to make the same face I did 11 years earlier.  Sorry, dear.  Didn't quite happen.

Dual Holiday

Today is Mothers Day.  It's also our 12th anniversary.

This is the first time we've had this double celebration.  The first time it would've happened had been a leap year. 

I thought I'd do something special for Josh since it's our Dozen Anniversary.  He and Matt were gone Friday night at the father/son campout so the girls and I set up an elaborate activity for him to come home to.

I borrowed my brother-in-law's gps for geocaching and located six of the geocaches in our neighborhood.  We then left a note in each cache for Josh to find. 

The notes contained dates that I consider "perfect" days in my life.  Dates like: December 19, 1998, the day we met; February 14, 1999, our first date; etc.  Each note also had the coordinates for the next cache site. 

In the end, Josh was led back home where he found his new grill (one side with propane, the other for charcoal) and the final note with pictures of our children saying I look forward to an eternity of perfect days with him.  I think I was allowed to be cheesy at the end since I was such a genius for the rest of it.

It really was fun to do and plan. 

And because Josh got such an incredible grill for our anniversary, I got a wonderful gourmet dinner tonight for Mothers Day.




A happy man and his new grill


That's right.  I went through all those hours of planning, strategies, and searching for tiny pill bottles hidden in the rockscape of our neighborhood so I could get a nice bbq chicken tonight.

Josh grilling corn on the cob

And it was worth it.

Happy anniversary to my best friend.  And Happy Mothers Day to all of the moms I know and love.

My Funny Valentine.... Date

I wanted to plan a nice date for Josh and me to have for Valentines Day this year.  I've never planned our Valentines before.  Yep.  12 Valentines together and this was the first one I planned. 

I decided to take him somewhere we couldn't generally go with the kids.  It was pretty obvious where we could go when I heard an ad on the radio for the Body Worlds exhibit at the Arizona Science Center.  This exhibit had come to Denver in 2006, just before we had our membership to the museum.  It was too far away and too expensive to justify going, I thought.  But Josh really wanted to go.  He even considered taking his brother with him, but with school schedules it just didn't pan out. 

I've been a little nervous about going to this exhibit.  I wanted to go because Josh has wanted to see it for five years.  But when you explain it to people, it sounds like a lesson on being a psychotic serial killer.  A scientist named Gunther von Hagens discovered a way to stop the decomposition of the human body, providing a real sample of the human body that can be studied repeatedly, not just in a one time instance like a typical cadaver. 

Yeah, that's where the weirdness kind of comes in.  The exhibit is a display of actual human bodies that have exposed muscles, bones and organs.  But to walk through it is a whole different type of experience.




I was a little nervous that my sad mood from the previous day was going to be a problem, but I had a lot of fun being with Josh and seeing the wonder of the human body.  After seeing, and I mean literally seeing, how incredible the body is, no one can ever convince me that we are on this Earth by chance. 

There was even a little healing that happened.  While looking at the displays of fetuses (feti?) I realized how there is so much that could go wrong in a baby's development.  Much more than I knew.  No wonder there are such horrible things as miscarriages.  So much needs to come together just right.  The complexities of the body are so difficult to comprehend.

And really, the displays of the people weren't really all that creepy.  And I don't do creepy very well.  Quite honestly I did get a little queasy at one point of the exhibit.  But I had to disconnect myself from the reality of what I was looking at.  I definitely think the exhibit is not for everyone, but was still pretty amazing to see.  Josh seemed to enjoy it, and that was the whole point.

Probably the most amazing thing of the whole exhibit (beyond the fascination of the complexity of life) is the fact that all of the full bodies were permanently posed.  There was one called the Diver.  It was a woman on the edge of a diving board.  The front part of her body came over her toes as if she was about to dive, her organs and center of her body stood up straight so you could see how they all fit within her body, and the back of her looked like it was leaning backward.  The only things holding her in position were her two big toes that were secured onto the diving board.  There were no strings, no cases, just this technique Dr von Hagens invented called Plastination where a polymer is infused into the cells.  And the exhibit didn't smell, either. 

If I hadn't experienced this myself and was just reading about it, I'd probably be a little sick to my stomach.  After all, I nearly fainted a few months ago when I sliced my finger.  But you have to see it to truly appreciate it. 

Of course, there were also displays of things like the brain, heart, lungs, intestines, artificial joints, and other such things. 

It really was an amazing thing to experience.

After the museum we decided to grab some lunch before heading home.  So we headed to the Hard Rock Cafe.  Josh and I have both been to the Cafe before, but in different cities and with different people.  So this was our first visit together.  And really, I think he agreed to go because he knew I'd enjoy it and we'd just spent a few hours at the museum.  It was nice of him to agree.  So we sat down and noticed that the display over our table was John Lennon's jacket.  Hello!  Awesome! 

In the menu it explained that Eric Clapton asked his favorite restaurant, Hard Rock Cafe London, to mark his preferred table with a plaque with his name on it.  They said, how about a guitar instead?  He agreed and the rest is history.  So I had to wonder.... if Clapton comes into the London Cafe and wants his table is it something where it's always vacant in case he comes in, or will the people eating there have to move?  Josh told me it's probably the second, people would be asked to move. 

Then he said, "If John Lennon came in here and wanted this table, don't you think you'd move?"  I laughed and told him, "No.  I'd say, 'No, John Lennon's ghost!  You can't have my table I was here first!'"  Really, I'd probably have to be removed by the staff because I'd have fainted and fallen on the ground.  Then I'd buy a Hard Rock t-shirt and have him sign it and make a million dollars on E-bay.  I'm guessing.

All in all, it was a great date.  We're starting to realize the importance of doing activities it wouldn't be good to do with kids whenever we can.  Otherwise, we'll never do them.  There's no way the kids could've come to the Body Worlds with us and the Hard Rock is a little too expensive to buy food that may or may not be eaten.  I loved being with Josh and laughing with him and having conversations about things other than what the kids are doing. 

I'm even more excited for our vacation next month.

Adults-only Trip

I filed our taxes yesterday.  Wham, bam, thank you Uncle Sam. 

Really, this year was pretty simple.  It may be because I've been doing my own (and eventually Josh's) taxes since 1996.  Deductions are easy to figure out.  We had one W-2 and we spent all of 2010 in Arizona, so only one state to file in.  Easy.  Plus, Josh didn't take all of the deductions allowed to him at work, so we knew we had overpaid our taxes and we'd be getting a refund.

So..... what to do, what to do?

First, good-bye credit cards.  All of them.  Luckily, we have a relatively low balance of them (much less than the national average of $15,788). 

So now.... what to do, what to do?

I'll tell you what the heck to do.  You take your husband and go away for a few days.  Why?  Because the last time you did it was less than 24 hours about 45 miles away from home.  The time before that was about four days with your theatre group and you had to attend seminars and performances and not even sleep in the same room as each other.  And the time before that you didn't have kids. 

We tried to get Josh's schedule clear for the entire week of Spring Break, but it seems that everyone else had the same idea.  We were originally going to visit family in Colorado, but since Josh has to work part of Spring Break, we had to downsize our plans.

Luckily my parents have accepted the invitation for the kids to stay with them for a few days.  And then Josh and I will be off.

And so now..... where to go, where to go?

I have a feeling Southern California will be accepting us and our reservations in one way or another.  I know you're dying to know more information.  I'll happily share it as soon as I know it myself.

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree

I realized today that everyone has a Christmas tree story.  Whether it's the imitation tree you grew up with or the fantastical glory of chopping a new tree every year. 

So I thought about it.

What is my favorite tree story?

There's the tree we have now.  I bought it two days after Christmas a few years ago.  It was 75% off and pre-lit.  Bonus.  (If you did not read that word in a high pitched sing-song voice, you need to go back and read it again.)



December 2010
Emma convinced the kids to pretend they were watching a movie....



I think the tree was supposed to be the movie....

They are weird kids.

There's the tree we had back in college.  My roommate Tara and her dad picked up a tree for our apartment.  It was tall and a bit sparse.  A tall Charlie Brown-ish tree.

December 1996
Pardon the crop-job on this one.  It was the only pic I had of it.

There's also the one from when I was a kid.  We had one year in particular that our family just struggled.  I'll never forget it.  I was in second grade.  My mom took me and sat me down to explain that there wasn't enough money for very many presents and we wouldn't be able to have a tree that year.  I was disappointed, but I didn't want my parents to feel bad so I put on a brave face.  I got home from school one day and there was a decorated Christmas tree in our living room.  I said to my mom, "I thought we couldn't have a tree this year!"  She told me that this tree had been sitting on our doorstep and someone had ding-dong-ditched it.  That was a pleasant surprise during a difficult holiday season.  I don't have a picture of that one.

But I think my favorite memory (this year, at least) will be the tree from Josh's and my first Christmas.  I've probably already told you the story, but I can't remember for sure.  So I'll tell it again. 

Josh and I had gone to his parents' house to go sledding a few days before we got our tree.  They lived on this huge hill and it was ideal for such an activity.  Yes, the hill had slope, snow, and, unbeknownst to us, huge boulders hiding underneath the snow.  Josh and his sister went down the hill, hit one of these huge mounds of rock, and CRASHED!  The plastic sled they had flown down on splintered and busted into thousands of pieces.  Josh, who was in front, hit the rock with his butt.  His sister (who was about 11) slammed into Josh's back so hard that she was knocked unconscious.  The ride to the urgent care was perilous with Josh occasionally fainting out of pain.  The doctor told him he had a bruised tailbone, but we both wonder if there was a hairline fracture there that they missed.  (His sister was fine, btw, Josh gave her a blessing right there on the spot and she had no lasting problems.)

And yet, he still went trekking out into the Pike National Forest with me on our quest for the perfect tree for our first Christmas.  And he cut it down and even hauled it back to our Bronco II to bring it home.  He then took pain meds and went to bed.

December 1999

It's not a pretty tree.  I don't know that any of the trees you cut down from the forest really are beautiful.  They don't fit the ideal description of a large, bushy, full pine.  They're more mutt-ish.  But when the man you love trudges through the snow (and every time he lifts his leg high enough to clear the several inches of white stuff it causes severe pain in his rear) just to attempt a new tradition with his blushing bride, it's got to be a favorite memory. 

Granted, we have not gone to cut down our Christmas tree since, but it was a lovely thought.

#18 I'm Thankful For.....

Today's thankful post is pretty straight forward: I'm thankful we had a successful road trip today. 

I'm thankful we had no mechanical issues.

I'm thankful we had no weather issues, except for that bit of wind that lasted about 20 miles.

I'm thankful the kids were mostly good.

I'm thankful we only had to stop four times because Millie couldn't sit still any longer.

I'm thankful my husband supports and loves me enough to encourage me to have fun, even if it's without him.

I'm thankful for Diet Cherry Pepsi.

I'm thankful it was only 13.5 hours on the road.  It really could have been much, much worse.

#16 I'm Thankful For.....

Consider this post a "clip post".  Kind of like a clip show on a sitcom.

I'm thankful for my husband.  And here's why:

1.  We have a great story of how we met.
2.  Our first date was two months after we met and a month before we were engaged.
3.  Longer stories of our courtship. (Separate links)
4.  He's so cute!!!
5.  He has star qualities.  (Separate links)
6.  He's talented and creative.
7.  We have the same crushes.
8.  We have the funniest inside jokes.
9.  He's humble.
10.  He can pull off footie pajamas better than anyone!

If this were TV, you'd really like this post.

#4 I'm Thankful For......

Today I'm thankful for Florence Nightingale.

1.  My husband is a nurse.  It's his calling in life.  He's good at it.  He enjoys it.  He thrives on it.  If he has to spend 40 hours a week away from me, nursing is where he should be.

2.  Florence wasn't the pioneer of pharmacology, but she's a nice segue to it.  I'm thankful for medications.  Specifically Children's Tylenol.  I've given doses to three different children today.  And I need to stock up because I have a feeling that I'll need to give a few more doses before the week is over.

3.  And moving along with the medical theme, I'm thankful for modern medicine.  Today I got a postcard reminding me to schedule Matt's next cardio appointment.  Where would he be without incredible doctors, nurses, surgeons, medications, ultrasounds, 2x2 gauze, and pleasant office staff that greet us at the office or on the phone?  Well, we know where he'd be.  And maybe me too.  No one can ever convince me that modern medicine is not a modern day miracle. 

So thank you, Florence Nightingale.  You were an incredible woman and your life has truly affected mine.

#2 I'm Thankful For.....

I've noticed a sad trend among a few of my friends on Facebook.  About once a month at least one person reports a status of their sadness in regards to divorce.  Either theirs or their parents' divorce.  It really breaks my heart.

But that's not what I'm thankful for.  What I am thankful for is my children's inability to understand what divorce is.  I can't imagine ever living my life without Josh.  I hate the thought of being away from him for a single day.  But as much pain and suffering as voluntarily living without him would cause me, I can't fathom the thought of him living away from our children. 

And what I'm truly thankful for is the fact that I never have to worry about that.  Our children don't see us fight.  Mostly because we don't.  We have our differences, of course, because who doesn't?  But we never yell at each other.  We never call each other names.  We show each other love and respect.  And we constantly strive to be aware of each other and the other person's needs. 

Of course my children don't comprehend divorce.  They have no reason to.  And I'm eternally thankful for that.

Sick and Tired

The word is out.

I'm sick and tired.

But in a good way.

Sometime around the end of May, this blog will be retitled.  But for now we'll just call it the J.S.E.A.M.M.?. Project.  That's right, Baby 5 is on his/her way. 

So far this baby has caught me by major surprise. 

1.  The pregnancy test I took at the ER almost 3 weeks ago was negative.  Therefore I had a bunch of x-rays done to find out why my breathing problems were happening.  First time I've had a negative that should've been a positive.  I thought it was a little early to test, but not much.  If Clear Blue Easy can detect pregnancy up to five days early, a hospital-grade test should be able to as well, right? Riiiight.

2.  In trying to prepare to run a 1/2 marathon, I learned that I really only had a 20% chance of getting pregnant.  I figured it would take a while to get pregnant.  We knew we wanted another baby, but I really thought it would take a while.  Like it did with the other kids.  It took over 2 years to get pregnant with Millie and a year to get pregnant with Matt and about 8 months to get pregnant with Emma after our miscarriage in 1999 (Abby was the exception, remember she and Emma are 13 months a part). 

3.  TMI Alert.  So, I've been so tired and my stomach has been upset and I was late, so I asked Josh to bring me another pregnancy test so we could just check it to make sure.  It was Saturday morning and I knew Josh was on his way home, but I really had to pee.  I grabbed a plastic cup.  TMI, remember.  I left it up in the bathroom and went downstairs to take care of the other kids.  Josh got home and went upstairs while I was still getting kids settled down.  I finally got to go upstairs and I popped my head into the room.  I asked him if he started the test and HE told ME that I was pregnant.  How often does that happen?  Well, I guess 1 out of 6 times?

Josh and I are very happy.  Our parents are happy.  Our siblings are happy.  Most of our kids are happy.  Emma's having some difficulty.  But I remember feeling that way when I was 9 and my mom was having a baby.  She goes back and forth.  She gets upset about the baby, but then tells everyone she sees about him/her.  We're definitely trying to make sure all the kids know how much we love them individually and want them to be happy.

And that's all why I'm sick and tired.

The Third 11th Birthday Bash

I had a really wonderful birthday weekend. That's pretty much what it was: a weekend of PAR-TAY.

In case you wanted to be a part of the festivities (or want to relive them), here is the recap......

Wednesday

I share my birthday with my sister Tara. So we went and had lunch together. Of course, we brought Josh, Millie, and my nephews Brett and Ashton with us. We headed over to a local Mom-and-Pop place. It was pretty good food, but the service lacked. Because the waitress's flirting wasn't enough to warrant a decent tip from us, I'm not sure if we'll go back.

It was later that day that I couldn't take some respiratory problems I was having (full story HERE) and went to the ER. After the fact, Josh and I both admitted that we were so worried that I was about to discover that I had lung cancer or something horrible like that the day before my birthday. Luckily, I just needed some oxygen and more calories. I'm much better now.

Thursday

My actual birthday. It was a pretty nice and quiet day. Josh spent the morning making me a MOUNTAIN of a cake. Seriously. It was a double batch, complete with a homemade chocolate glaze. He called it, "Death By Chocolate." It nearly was. Seriously.

He also made me some chipotle chili lime fried chicken. It was very, very good.

We ate the cake (I got sick, remember the cake's name) and had some great frozen yogurt. It was a nice night. I had already opened my present (my new running shoes) so it was a nice and simple party.

Friday

Our date day. Josh grabbed his cousin's daughter to watch the kids before they ever even got home from school. He took me to Scottsdale and surprised me with a facial. While I was being massaged and cleansed, what was Josh doing? Sitting in the lobby watching a dumb Fred kid on iCarly. That's how much he loves me.

Then we went further into Scottsdale to a restaurant called Maggiano's Little Italy. Here's something you may not know about me. I have a major weakness. It is Italian food. It's a good thing I had a big reason to eat more calories. Because I think that dinner alone took care of my ketoacidosis. And it was a pleasure to allow it to heal me. Oh, was it good food. And you'd expect a restaurant in Scottsdale, Arizona, to be expensive, but it really didn't cost much more than Olive Garden. But sooo much better. Mmm. I'm drooling just thinking about it. Mmmm....

Afterward, we went to see if any movies were playing, but there really wasn't anything out that sounded interesting. We grabbed a Redbox movie and relieved the babysitter early.

Saturday

Tara's SIL Carina invited Tara and me out for lunch for our birthday. I thought it was really sweet that they thought to invite me as well. We had a good lunch and checked out a new pottery painting place nearby. It was fun to hang out with the two of them.

Sunday

We had a nice BBQ at Tara's house. Carina and her husband Jershon came over, as well as my daddy. We had a delicious dinner, Carina made a yummy lemon bundt cake, and we rocked out to a little Beatles' Rockband.

There's a tradition in our family that the birthday person gets blasted with the Beatle's Birthday. This year it came in the form of Tara, Cody, Jershon, and me rocking to Rockband.

If you notice, most of my birthday revolved around some sort of meal or food. Yep. The food journal started again today!

Oh, I nearly forgot to explain the "Third 11th" comment. Josh called this birthday my third 11th. My first 11th I turned 11. My second 11th, I turned 22. Now, for my third 11th, I've turned 33. Isn't he clever?

I love you, Josh. Thanks for taking so much time, money, and effort to make it a special birthday bash weekend!!

The Can of WD

One of the most difficult things about Josh working the night shift is letting him sleep during the day. It used to kill me to leave him alone. I was up and working or playing and wanted him with me. We'd be under the same roof and it took all my strength to leave the poor man alone.

Over the years it's gotten easier to let him sleep. But there's something that continues to pull me into our room during the day. Sometimes it's a valid excuse of needing something from the room. Sometimes it's just that I prefer to use the master bathroom than any other bathroom. Sometimes I just plain want to be in the room with him, even if he is sleeping, and I'll read or put a movie on the laptop. It's weird to miss someone even when they're literally right in front of you.

But I've learned to resist the urge to wake him up early.

The bedroom door, however, has yet to learn to resist the same urge.

So today I went grocery shopping and made sure I grabbed a can of WD 40.

I didn't think much more about it until I was at the register. Did you know you have to be over 18 to buy WD 40? What the heck is this world coming to? I sprayed that stuff on the hinges of the bedroom door and it's really gross. Do people seriously inhale this stuff? Psychos!!!

Anyway, I slapped that gross stuff on the hinges and now the door will let Josh sleep.

And I can keep stalking him.

You Got Wrong Numbered!

Did you ever see the episode of Friends when Monica and Chandler come back from their honeymoon and they find out that the couple they met while away had "wrong numbered" them? And then there was the whole debate about whether the couple had even given their real names.

I think some dude named Paul has "wrong numbered" a bunch of people. Josh's phone gets calls for Paul fairly regularly. Men, women, it doesn't matter. Paul doesn't seem to be biased. At first it was all women and we wondered if Paul had given out his wrong number to a dating service. Several of those women seemed awfully disappointed when Josh adamantly assured them that he's not Paul.

Then males started calling too. None of them seemed too disappointed, so I'm pretty sure none of them were from a dating service.

We did get some calls at the end of the school year from a certain school Paul's child seemed to attend. And a few from his doctor. We did our best to make sure they knew they had the wrong number.

Tonight when I went to wake Josh for his shift I noticed his phone in his hand and asked him if someone had called him during the day. He looked at his hand very surprised to see his phone there. He looked at his call history and was surprised to see that he had, indeed, received a call around noon. He didn't recognize the number. The funniest part was that he couldn't remember answering the phone, but the call was listed as Received. Some poor soul had had a conversation with my sleeping husband.

Josh started to worry that he'd had some sort of incomprehensible conversation with someone from work. He racked his brain trying to remember, but couldn't. Finally I asked him, "Was it someone for Paul?" Yes, it was. Paul's wrong number struck again and some unsuspecting sap had a conversation with a sleeping man.

Paul, choose a different wrong number for your "wrong numbered" schemes, please. My husband needs his sleep.

Saved

In line with the "Thankful" post the other day, I'm blogging another answer to my friend Jeri Dawn's blog game of "Getting to Know You." And I will heartily laugh if you began singing the song just now.

The latest question:

"What or who or when or how did someone save you?"

This is a huge question. And, for me, I cannot just answer it. I have to study the question, ponder it, mull it over in my mind, and then just scrap all that and write whatever may come to me. You know. How I usually write my blog posts.

Because of the different types of saving, I'm going to break it down.

Physical
I have been physically saved at least twice. Once was on the Arkansas River in Colorado. I went white water rafting with some friends from my ward, including my mom, our bishop and his family. While going down the river, the raft flipped. Here's the bad part. I can't swim. Here's the good part. I was wearing a life jacket. The river washed me away from the raft and another raft in our party had to come get me. I drank half the river that day. I also never went rafting again, much to Josh's disappointment.

The second time I was saved by Dr Richard Porreco when Matt was born. He saved my son when he was born, which literally tore up my insides. Dr Porreco found the unexpected bleeding, got my blood transfusion taken care of, and I was still able to have children afterward. If Matt had been born in the little town we lived in rather than Denver, either Matt or I may not be here.

Social
Like many others, junior high was a hard time for me. We moved to Utah and I hated it. I hated my parents. I hated the people. I hated the church. I hated school. I hated my siblings. I hated life. Several different groups of people helped me out of my funk. My parents stuck by me and never gave up or quit praying for me. My friends in my new ward reached out and welcomed me, even though it took me a year to accept that outreach. I wandered between a few groups of friends at school, never really feeling a part of any of them. It was a while before I allowed myself to truly feel a part of my friends' lives. I don't know that they ever really knew that I felt so lost for so long. But by ninth grade, I had a secure place with my friends and I still love each of them.

Love
Josh saved me. He saved me from worry, dread, heartache, loneliness, emptiness, and every other bad thing you can think of. I spent a lot of time moping around because I hadn't found him yet. He has tamed me (sort of) and I can't imagine the idea of happiness without thinking of him.

'Cause when I'm a bullet shot out of a gun

'Cause when I'm a firecracker comin' undone

Or when I'm a fugitive ready to run, all wild-eyed and crazy

No matter where my reckless soul takes me

Baby you save me

-Kenny Chesney, You Save Me

There are times when he's the only person that can calm me. Of course, he's also one of the things that shoots me off, but that's a whole other subject.

Emotionally

Just over a year ago, I prayed for a miracle. I prayed with all my being. I fell asleep praying, something I've never done before or since. My family was in jeopardy. Satan did his best to bind us in darkness. I have an inkling of what Joseph Smith experienced with his first prayer in the Sacred Grove. He had gone to pray, to ask the Lord which church he should join. But before he could begin his prayer, something happened to him:

...I had scarcely done so, when immediately I was seized upon by
some power which entirely overcame me, and had such an astonishing influence
over me as to bind my tongue so that I could not speak. Thick darkness
gathered around me, and it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to sudden
destruction. (Joseph Smith History 1:15)

I don't know that I can fully understand this feeling, but that night a year ago, I came close. I felt "doomed to sudden destruction." Joseph pleaded for help and was saved by the appearance of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. I was saved by the inspiration to utter in my own prayer, "We need a miracle. Please send us a miracle."

The next morning my miracle manifested through several different people in many different ways. We were saved. We were free. We found the strength to overcome our "thick darkness." I've been scarred by this event. It haunts my thoughts still. But we've overcome the earthly trials it caused. Our Heavenly Father saved us through His miracle. He continues to save me every day to overcome the memory of our near "sudden destruction."

Well. That was long and a bit deep. But I've been saved. Many times. In many ways.

San Diego 2010

There is no Bloggest Loser this week because I had an inkling that we were going to be out of town.

And we were.

Monday morning we left to go to San Diego to visit Josh's grandparents.

He hasn't seen them since he was about 16 and his grandfather is in very poor health. We knew we had to make the trip before school started and not wait until it was convenient. We had a bit of time and low funds, but we still had a wonderful trip.

Monday night we saw Gramma and Grampa Essary.

We stayed at a hotel between their house and the beach.

The next morning was overcast and cool, but we decided that we HAD to see the ocean while we were there. We didn't change into our swimsuits since it was so chilly, but all four children ended up wet from their shoulders down.

We had some lunch and the sun came out, so we decided to go back to the beach. This time we wore our suits and did some major shell collecting. It was a good day.

It was a very fun, although fast, trip. I can't wait to do it again. Next time we'll have some more ideas of where to go and what to do.

The kids' first time in the ocean.

Tombstone or Bust!

Yesterday Josh and I took the kids out for an adventure. We called it:

ADVENTURE!!!!

I know. Such a creative name. Really, anyone else may look at our adventure and think that it was just a bunch of unpreparedness. Well, so what if it was? We had fun, so that's all that matters.

I told the kids that we were going to go on a field trip. The girls got all excited and asked where we were going. I told them Tombstone. They started screaming and clapping and jumping up and down. Finally, after a good 60 seconds of celebration, they calmed down and asked me what Tombstone is. They're so weird.

I explained it's an Old West town and had some museums in it. They were excited (again) to go.

First, we left very late in the day. I don't know if my children have told you lately, but I'm pretty mean and made them do all their chores before we could leave.

Then, we grabbed the atlas and took off. We couldn't remember how far away Tombstone is since the last time we went there we had no children. But we knew it would be a couple hours.

Three hours later, we arrived in town. We went over to the O.K. Corral to check it out.

Unfortunately, we got there 15 minutes after it closed. And 15 minutes after most of the shops in town closed.

But there were a couple of shops open. We had promised the kids they could buy whatever they wanted as long as they didn't go over their $10 max. So we now have a few new horses and cap guns laying around our house.

Josh and I thought it was kind of funny that the movie stills we saw were mostly from the Kurt Russell Tombstone instead of the Kevin Costner Wyatt Earp. Even the town of Tombstone thinks Kevin Costner sucks. Ha ha ha ha!!!!!!

We saw a buggy driving down the streets of Tombstone, but we missed the shoot out in the streets.

We completed our adventure by taking the backroads home. It shaved about thirty minutes off our drive, even in the dark. It was a bit after midnight when we got home, but it was fun.

ADVENTURE!!!!

We now have a much better idea of how to do a good visit to Tombstone. The only thing really worth seeing in town is the O.K. Corral and it's accompanying museum. So, next time we'll plan it a little better. We will drive the backway to Tombstone and visit some really cool caverns in one of the towns nearby. Then we'll go to Tombstone for lunch, visit the O.K. Corral and watch the 2pm shoot out in the streets.

So, some may consider our six hours in the car for an hour look around Tombstone a waste of time, but we had lots of fun together. And that's never a waste.

I do think we need to go get the BlueRay copy of Tombstone. Who doesn't love Kurt Russell, especially as someone as cool as Wyatt Earp? He's awesome. Sam Elliot and Bill Paxton are wonderful as the other two Earp brothers, although Sam Elliot is my favorite of the two. And, of course, my loyalty to Joshua has numbed my affinity for Val Kilmer, but I still think he's great. Plus, he's got some of the best lines.

I'm your Huckleberry.