Aspen and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day . . .

The children have been staging an active campaign for the past little bit to get a dog.  Perhaps you are new to this blog, so let me inform you that we have had two dogs during the 15 years our family has been a unit.  Both were sold.

Anyhow, after the first few days of propaganda I actually began to believe that I could potentially consider another dog.  After all, so many of the things I hated about dog ownership in the past revolved around having toddlers at the same time.  My family is growing up.  Perhaps this would be a good time.

Saturday last we finally decided to put a Pro/Con list together.  The con list was heavily weighted with things such as "loss of freedom to travel", "vet bills", "shaming when people find out you treat it like a dog", and finally, "POO!!!"  I put poo in caps and made it take up three lines.  I hate dog poop.

The pro list had a lot of things such as, "dogs are fuzzy" and "dogs are man's best friend" and Joel threw in this little gem, "dogs like to watch people play Wii".

This morning I woke up feeling warm and fuzzy about the idea of purchasing a pooch.  I had been looking for a few days and found what appeared to be a lovely young chihuahua at the Humane Society.  So, this afternoon after consulting with The Hubs, JB and I hit the open road in pursuit of the American Dream.... being tied down to another living thing.

I walked in to where the dogs are kept and as though Fate's kiss was bestowed, the only dog NOT barking was the one I was there to see.  Unfortunately, the only human NOT crying was me.  JB was less than thrilled by the dog situation.  I got the little chi out of the kennel and he stood nicely while I put on a leash.  Then I carried a crying, screaming 3 year-old and a chihuahua out of the kennel and outside to "walk" the dog around and see if we could be a match.  Sadly, the 3 year-old screamed the entire way out, "Put it back, I don't want it, I don't want it".  Not really inspiring confidence of our suitability in the staff.

We spent a good 30 minutes outside with the cute little dog.  I did a few little "tests" on him to see how he reacted to various things I thought kids would do.  I laid on him, I poked a stick in his eye, I sneaked up behind and scared him.  I jest.  I did NOT do any of those things.  Maybe.

Overall he didn't react to anything with more than a curious look and a tail wag.  I then made a point of letting him walk up to any dog that happened to be passing to see how he did with that.  Nothing.  Just more tail wagging and some sniffing.  I believe I found the most calm Chihuahua on the planet.  Not once did he bark or growl or anything.  He was great.  JB was terrible.

Steve ran over from work to give me his impression of this golden dog.  He liked him and told me that if I felt good about it to go ahead.  So, he kept JB outside with him - incidentally, JB had settled down by that point and was tickling the dog with a weed he'd found . . . bonding I suppose.  I went in and told the staff we'd take him.  The paperwork began.

And suddenly, without warning, so did the panic attack.  They handed me a contract to sign and suddenly it was like I'd peed on that stick and it was pink and I was HAVING A BABY!!!  My insides began to curdle.  Then they handed me another paper talking about if the dog developed "x" sickness in the next 30 days to bring him in for treatment and it was like, "YOU'LL NEVER GO ON A CRUISE!!!"

I began to sweat.  I did not daintily perspire or 'glow' or any other such nonsense.  I was dropping beads of sweat while I'm signing my name and looking at this dog, this anchor trying to weigh me down and end my sweet, sweet life as I know it.

Friends, I tried to fight through it.  I really did.  I squirmed in my seat, I looked at his little puppy face, I thought of the shame, and then I finally turned to the lady helping me and said, "You know what, I need to think about this some more.  I'm starting to feel really nervous about this."

PIN DROP!!!

All eyes in the place swiveled to me.  Dog hater.  Person who probably never spays or neuters their pet.  Finally the lady recovered and said, "You know, that's fine.  You need to be sure."  And then suddenly I'm asking for my ID back and I'm handing her the leash and I'm walking away, all but fanning my armpits.

I get outside and The Hubs is understandably wondering where New Family Member is.  And I started tearing up.  "I'm so sorry, I had a total panic attack.  I couldn't go through with it.  I CAN'T HAVE ANOTHER BABY!!!"

He gave me a hug, like The Hubs usually does when I've lost my mind, and we walked to the cars.  Too bad JB began throwing a hissy fit about how he wanted the puppy.  Now we're drawing attention because I'm crying - along with the 3 year-old - while telling The Hubs what a bad mom I am.

We start heading home and JB settles down, thankfully.  I'm still busy whipping myself in my mind.  I'm a heart breaker and a dream killer.  I look in the rear-view mirror and JB has done something NONE of my children have ever done.  He's unbuckled himself and is standing up in the middle of the back seat.  WHAT!  I pull over and give him a stern lecture about how he'll get hurt if he's unbuckled.

Then we head to pick up the kids from school and break the bad news that they will never have another dog.  {This year.  I reserve the right to change my mind, but I believe that goes without saying.}  Deciding I need a boost before breaking their little trusting souls and that JB needs some healing too, I swing into McDonald's to get myself a coke and JB an ice-cream cone.

The ice-cream machine is broken.

Sur-freaking-prise.

So I order him fries.  He didn't want fries.  He wanted ice-cream and a puppy.

Flash forward to the drive home with the kids.  I decide to tell them a watered down version of the story because there is no hiding the fact that I went to see a dog - JB was with me. I ask their forgiveness and tell them how sorry I am.

Joel, my obvious favorite child , says, "It's OK, Mom.  You do a lot of things for us.  It's OK if you can't get us a dog.  I can forgive you for that."

Els remains quiet, but tells me although she's disappointed, she's OK and she'll be a grown up about it.

Cadie LOSES HER MIND!  She will never trust me again.  Oh, and P.S. prayers don't work because she'd been praying for a dog.  It's clear her mother hates her and she will never be the same.

To recap.... no dog, no ice-cream, no seat belt, no trust.

Yep, it's been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

I should have stayed in bed.

Worth 1000 words

They say that a picture is worth 1000 words.  

This past week Ms. Els and I were going through pictures to compile my annual family video - this is my nod to scrapbooking because I really think I'll die if I craft.  We came across this series of pictures taken at Temple Square  the week before Christmas and both of us just started busting up laughing.

THIS, dear readers, is what it's like every time I try to take a picture of my kids all together.  

ME: "Hey, guys, look at me, we're gonna take a picture"

Els: Figures.

Cadie: Smiling....at something....

Joel:  If I smile it makes mama happy,so I smile.

JB:  Wha-, do I see a camera?  It's time to shine!

ME: "Crum, my finger got in it from trying to get your attention.  Hey, the camera is over here.  Cadie, Cadie.... hey, CADIE!!!"

Els: {Pre-teen sigh}

Cadie:  SQUIRREL... the lights are so pretty... and unicorns....

Joel:  Still smiling, but eyes have wandered.  Hold it, hold it!

JB:  ME, ME, ME!!!!!

ME: "Cadie, I'm seriously over here.  Over here.  JB, shut your mouth dude. Els, try to look like you are NOT totally disgusted with picture taking...."

Els:  Fine.  Slight mouth lift, are you HAPPY?

Cadie:  Ooohhh.... there are more lights over here!

Joel:  And I'm back.  Smiling so hard it hurts!

JB:  Too bad I left my tap shoes at home... I can do some jazz hands if that will help!!  Does that show up on camera?

ME: "{Sigh}.  Fine.  That'll do."

At My Age

First off, Happy New Year readers.  Thanks to all 3 of you for sticking with me :)

The marching forward of time has had me reflecting on the fact that this year I will turn 37.  That's getting pretty cozy with 40.... which is pretty darn close to my mid-life point.  The other day The Hubs said to me, "You know, I really should start thinking about what my mid-life crisis is going to involve."  Ha ha.  Put that on the To-Do List babe.

Overall I must say that my 30s have probably been my favorite over-all decade.  I didn't say easiest, and I didn't say most fun.  Because it's been neither.  However, what I've loved about my 30s is that I've started to really believe in myself as an individual.  In your 30s you seem more able to cast off your worries about outside opinions, for the most part, and become more true to yourself. It's kind of nice to live that way.

However, there are also some scary things about your 30s.  Like, let's say hypothetically you go to bed one night wearing socks because your feet are cold.  And to your surprise rather than being totally annoying like it was just a year ago, it feels DELICIOUS.  Or, maybe, you find yourself wearing three layers to the movie theater because sometimes it's kind of cold in there.  Or, perhaps you begin wearing a cardigan on a daily basis.

Maybe you look down at your chest one day and notice that the skin there looks kind of leathery, and you have a surprising abundance of freckles and moles popping up in odd places.  You may even occasionally notice that after getting ready your bathroom smells like a mix of hot curling iron, lotion and perfume.... a particular scent you had previously associated only with your mother.  There may even come a time when you realize you can no longer pull off the messy bun - because rather than "flirty" and "free" it comes off as "ran out of time for a shower today" and "desperate to keep my hair out of the kids boogers".

I'm just saying that those things might make a person start to feel like they are getting older.

The truly confusing thing about your 30s is that while you are constantly shocked into realizing that you are aging, you continue to deal with torturous adolescent issues.  Like acne and it's partner-in-crime dandruff.  Both are social suicide.... yet you aren't supposed to care any more about that kind of stuff.

Or, how about the fact that at 36 I am playing another rousing game of "What's to be Done with My Hair?"  It seems to be losing some of the curl that so lovingly sprang into action with the onset of puberty.  Now it's just odd.  I can't cut it too short because - let's face it - fat bodies don't look good with short hair.  It looks like you have a pin-size head on an orange body.  I can't straighten it because.... well.... because that takes too long and ain't nobody got time for that.  I can't just leave it curly because it doesn't curl up well.  So I'm living in this place where I'm letting it curl but then I have to actually use a curling iron to add some curls to it in order to make it all look even.

If I loose weight, I'm cutting it off.  Fair warning Hubs.  In writing.

Overall I am enjoying the adventure of life as it comes.  Some days my back will ache, other days I have a giggle fit like I'm 14.  One morning I'll be popping a zit, and the next I'm dying my gray hairs.  It's never the same from day to day.  That, I think, is half the fun about growing up and into yourself.  Every day comes with a new discovery.  You realize that it's OK to embrace both who you were and who you are becoming.

I can't wait to see what 2015 brings.

Aging

I just got off the phone with my mom.  I must insert here that I dearly love the woman.  And I did tell her while we were talking that I was pretty much composing a blog post in my head with every word she said.  Ha ha.

The conversation - like so many - started off covering a topic we have already covered.

Mom:  Are you planning to spend New Year's Eve with us?

Me:  Uh, pretty sure we spoke about that already.

Mom:  Are you sure?

Me:  Yes.  Remember.  Steve has to work that day and you said something about the kids spending the night?

Mom:  Huh.  Well, that is starting to sound familiar.

Me:  Would this be a good time to tell you that yesterday when you called and were going over your "holiday schedule" with me that you left out the party at my house on Christmas Eve.  I didn't correct you because I didn't have the strength.

Mom:  {Laughs}  Come on, you're stronger than that!  Why didn't you correct me?

Me:  'Cuz I had already reminded you when you called to ask what kind of drinks people want, and then again when you asked about fruit, and then again when you said you couldn't play that song we all wanted to sing along to.  Last night I was just out of courage and couldn't take it on again.

Mom:  So I have short term memory problems.

Me: If I asked my friends I wonder how many of them would say that they have the same conversation with their parents repeatedly?  Dad remembered about Christmas Eve.  He texted me today to see what people wanted to drink.

Mom:  Ya, because I was standing next to him at the store and asked him to find out.  At least I'm not as bad as my friend.  She was telling us at yoga that the other day she got all dressed for church and couldn't figure out why her dress felt wrong.  Turns out after some investigating she was wearing her bra backwards.

Me:  {Laughing .... so.... hard}.  How is that even possible?

Mom:  {Laughing too} I know, wouldn't you notice those strange lumps on your back?

Me:  I'm thinking I'd be more aware of the sudden lack of lumps on my front, along with the terribly uncomfortable squeezing sensation.

Mom:  I mean, one time I wore my pants inside out, but when she told me her story I said to her "you win!"

Me:  {Graciously overlooking the comment about my mom wearing her pants inside out}  Ya, she wins.  I can't even imagine how that happens.

Mom:  Well, yesterday when I was at the store buying my new phone the kid working there told me that he was cutting something and accidentally cut his hand a little bit.  So I told him that was nothing.  One time I was putting up a bulletin board at school and opened up the stapler to staple up the border.  Only when I went to hit it with the palm of my hand I had it backwards and it put the staple into my hand.  I was younger then and still cared what people thought.  I was so embarrassed.

Me:  Oh my gosh.  Just, oh my gosh, Mom

Then the kitchen timer started ringing at my house and I honestly couldn't remember what it was for.

Me:  My timer is ringing and I don't know why.  Is someone in time out?  No.  Is the dryer finished?  No. . . . Wait!  It's the rolls in the oven.  They're done!

Mom:  I sure hope when you compose your blog you add that little tidbit!

Me:  In my defense I baked like 400 million things today.

Mom:  Speaking of baking.... what are you doing New Year's Eve? . . . .

Sister Messages

One of my most favorite things about modern technology is the ability it gives us to stay in touch with loved ones in such an easy manner.  When I was growing up my mom's family was all out of state.  I remember timing phone calls (it cost 10 cents a minute after all) and writing a lot of letters as I became a teenager.  But our interactions were definitely not on a daily basis.

That is not the case with my sisters and I.  In fact, if anything, we are probably overly involved in each other's lives.

Take this interaction from this week via text:

Anonymous sister:  Vent, vent, vent about something stupid husband is doing lately that makes me want to die his hair blue in his sleep.

Sister reply:  Want I should _______

Actually, I just remembered that I have some really sweet, tender, loving souls who read my blog and I wouldn't want to actually admit that that conversational gem happened.

Let's move on.

Today I had a typical, sister conversation with my middle sister, Camille.

It started with me sending this picture to my sisters via text with the caption:

"Oh.  My.  Dang"  (edited because one sister - SARA - claimed my text was PG13 and I don't want to offend those tender readers)

Camille replied:  Uh.... that' snot nice to rub that in my face without sharing!  I expect you to overnight some pronto.

Me:  No.

Camille:  You're kind of a rude butt jerk.  (Oops... sorry tender readers!)

Me:  Yep.  I own it.

And then I sent her this picture with the caption:  "Thinking of You!"

Camille:  Lol.... I hate you now.

Me:  I think you meant to say "Respect!"

Camille:  Oh, yeah.  Darn auto correct.  I hate you greatly.  Oh, oops, there it goes again.  I obviously meant "respect" again.  I was, after all, taught to respect my elders.

Me: You are such a Chinook Mistress (don't even try to follow that one!)

Camille:  Word.

****  

Aside from exchanging insults and taunting each other, I love that we also send random pictures throughout the day of new things we've cooked, home decor we are thinking about, our kids looking cute or funny, how the set up turned out for a church function, and just random thoughts.  

It makes my days brighter knowing that even though my sisters are miles and miles away from me, we are all connected by the common bond of family, motherhood, and general attempts to survive life.

So, yes, Camille may resent my taunting her with chocolate.

But in the end, we're sisters.... so she'll forgive me.  It's what we do.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas from our family to yours!!!

Click on the picture to make it larger

It's hard to believe that Christmas is next week!!  We've had quite the year as a family. Many ups and downs, but through it all we've had each other, and that's worth celebrating.

Like my Dad said to me on Sunday, "I have everything I really need in this world. That makes me a rich man."

By that definition, I believe we can count our family among the richest on earth.

Freeze Frame

A day or so ago I had a realization of epic proportions.....

If I could freeze my children in time 

right now, I would.

We have reached a state of independence that is just precious to me.  Ms. Els is 11 now, as of last week, and she has started babysitting for us for an hour here and there.  Finally, freedom to run and grab a gallon of milk or snag a library book without taking my entire entourage with me.

At an IMAX field trip with Ms. Els

On the other end of things, JB is turning three next month!  He is potty training and doing just splendidly.  I've been done with daytime diapers for a little over a week now.  He can play happily while I shower, fold clothing, do dishes etc.  He helps out with little chores he can manage.  He sleeps anywhere and is easy to travel with.  He is good at the store, he can climb into his own car seat, he will even go visiting teaching with me and not be a total horror story.

JB putting away the clean silverware

For the most part people are now in charge of their own hygiene, bed making, and homework.  Sure, I am around to assist where needed, but these things are no longer my primary responsibility.  We have an effective and consistent chore chart, allowance is being paid and piano lessons are being taught.

Cadie lounging in the leaf pile

Three of the four children are in school all day, and while I don't seem to be any less busy, I am more free to schedule my "mom's chores" into the day in a way that works best for me.  I am no longer slave to the clock of  feedings, diaper changes and naps.  In fact, naps no longer break up my day at all.  Yes, some days I miss it, but more often than not I truly appreciate the freedom to be wherever, whenever.

The kids are witty, inventive, imaginative and still giggle all the time.  Yes, the poop and fart jokes are getting tired, but their little minds are growing and developing and they are becoming so much more interesting to spend time with.

J Bear showing off his "big" eyes

It's a sweet life!

I spent many years dreaming about getting to this point.  So many times I thought to myself, "I can't wait until they're a little older and we can go do ____ or _____ and it will be so great!"  Well, friends, I'm here.

And it terrifies me.  Because right now my biggest problem is getting the science fair project completed on time, or reprimanding some sass here and there.  Their world is still blissfully innocent of big problems.  We haven't been tempted by the smut of the world in our home, yet.

I feel it hovering ahead of me as I buy one size bigger shoes every month, or watch Ms. Els look at the cosmetic section with a wishful eye.

This phase, like all the others, is going to be too short.  The years are going to speed by in a way that will astound me.  I know this, because I am currently astounded by the speed that I went from new mom, to this place, here and now.

Sometimes - and I never thought I'd say this - I really do miss the days when I had my three little babies with me at home all day.  {JB wasn't born at that point, sorry, Bubba}.  The days were full of crying, pouting, messes, whining, fights, naps, bottles, potty training etc.  But when I look back I am grateful for those days that were easier in so many ways.  No school demands, no music/sports/electronics to contend with, no friend fights and nothing I couldn't handle.  They were labor intensive, but emotionally rewarding.

Now I look ahead and wonder how I'll get through what's coming.  What will the world tempt my babies with as they venture forward?  Drugs, alcohol, pornography.  Will one of them be bullied? Will there be accidents, health scares, and failures that I can't prevent?

I don't know.  I am sure that there will be happy times, of this there is no doubt.  However, I also know that there will be bigger problems and harder times as they grow and go through their own trials.... as we all must.

This past week as I've looked around me I've felt so aware of the gift of these years.  Years where my kids are still innocent, but independent.  Sassy, but loving.  Years where mom's voice is still louder than the world's voice.

Yes, if I could freeze time.....  

I'd keep them this way forever!