I will if you will

I get an email from my sister Denise yesterday. I especially liked the subject line "Blaaaahhhhhh-g". She simply told me if I promised to blog more, so would she. Its a deal.

I am not going to make an enormous entry about all of the different types of poopy diapers Gunnar has had, all of the arguments and make-up hugs that have taken place with Tate, or the number of times Mattea has been frightened by something. My annoyance level doesn't go high enough to tolerate an entry that long.

However...here is today's news. I will diet if you will diet. I will fold if you will put away. I will shower today if you will be quiet and play in your room for 5 minutes. I will keep you as a pet if you will stop trying to eat at the table with the humans. You can use your imagination to basically fill in the details.

Denise...your turn.

Just keep swimming...

My daughter turns 3 today. Hard to believe. We are having a Mickey Mouse theme because her obsession has migrated from Elmo to Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and this is a good thing, trust me. When I start having feelings of malice and hatred toward a Sesame Street character (the furry annoyance himself) its time to assist my kids in discovering there is more to the cartoon world than whiney, red, fuzzy monster-toddlers.

I must share my daughter's newest traumatizing moment. What you must know about Queenie is she is an enormously sensitive creature. Collapsing to a pile of limbs and tears at the most unexpected trigger (such as singing happy birthday to my Mother) is nothing unusual.

Yesterday while at the mall with my cousin and her children, Queenie needed a potty break. We chose the family bathroom because there is a "Mattea sized potty", as we call it, next to the adult sized potty. Now...I have decided potties, adult sized ones anyway, must look like giant and frightening ceramic pits in the wall or ground to a toddler. This is how I bet she sees them...



Familiar nervous issues prevented her from going "peeps", what she calls pee-pee, so I sat down and went in an attempt to make her feel more comfortable. I glanced over to ask her if she'd gone yet, and witnessed her sliding herself further back on the potty and I immediately knew what would follow. Sure enough, her tiny little bottom instantly sank into the potty and all I saw was Queenie from the chest up and legs sticking out and flailing because she had fallen in. I was laughing so hard I could barely get myself off the potty and all she could manage to say was "Oh! I kuck!" (stuck) I admit it took me an unacceptable amount of time to rescue her because of my inability to move through the stomach ache of a laugh attack I had. I even debated on digging out my iphone and snapping a picture to send to Daddy. I didn't.

It will forever be one of my best memories of my sensitive little princess. Happy 3rd Birtday to my darling baby girl.

Oddly enough...

Lots of uncertainty in my future used to mean a constant struggle with myself. What I mean is that I am a chronic worrier. I will worry that I'm not worrying if it is necessary. I have gotten help with this (pharmaceutically speaking...see previous post) but I think I can finally say my faith has been strengthened.

For years I've wanted to be like all those "other people" I know who have such amazing faith in God to provide their every need. I, on the other hand, tend to absolutely freak about every need, proclaim my life to be in shambles, my situation unfair, and the solution impossible....and I do mean every little thing.

Its not that I never trusted in my Heavenly Father. I did. But my tendency to look for temporal solutions and ideas always came first and prayer and faith were like the emergency shoot that pops out at the last minute. I could've simply relied on my knees a little more instead of stressing my mind.

Fortunately I can say now I feel I've finally started to overcome...myself. I don't have to always make everything right. Its not humanly possible. Making everything right is only divinely possible and that has got to be good enough. That has got to be acceptable and I'm so happy that I have accepted it!

I'm so thankful to have a testimony of being known and loved personally by God and my brother Jesus. Father knows my needs. He will make everything right. He will fix what needs fixed and heal what needs healed and Christ will laugh with me and cry with me and in the forefront of it all is my salvation thanks to my Savior.

This is NOT what I meant to blog about. The thoughts sort of just spewed out and look what happened. I feel better now.

I'm on his radar...

My son Tate has always had me on his radar. I can't do anything or even think anything without him knowing. We are connected. I've never been able to fool him. When I put on my best act, he's always seen through to the worst mood or saddest emotion, even as a toddler.

I still remember strolling him through Target (or was it Wal-Mart?) and at the age of 3 he saw through my smile yet again. It was one of the worst times of my life. I was going through a divorce with his father, lived back at home with my parents, and had lost many friends in the mix. My therapy, as always, was shopping and that day I had brought him with me. I didn't normally do that in an effort to avoid bringing half the toy aisles home with me, but I needed him that day.

He looked up at me with his big brown eyes and floofy afro and patted my arm while saying "Its ok Mommy, its going to be ok.". I hadn't said a word. In fact I had just been looking around the store while heading to the...yep, you guessed it...toy section. He just knew.

Today he knew, too. He knows what I'm going through right now, although I haven't actually sat him down and explained in detail. I should do that. He knew this morning I needed a lift and these short video clips are just a couple of examples of how he emerged from his "boy cave" to rescue his poor Mother who had reached her limit at only a few hours into the morning. I love my son more than I can describe.

Little Pink Pills

Yep...I take them. Yep I need to. Unless of course my family wants me to stay curled up in bed, fend for themselves when it comes to meals and snacks, wear dirty clothing, and hear me ROAR.

Am I embarrassed? No. Oh that's a LIE! Yes, I'm embarrassed. Everyone including my doctor has told me not to be. Can't help it. Its something I have to work through. Why am I posting it to a public blog if I'm so embarrassed about it? I want other MAH's to know that they aren't the only ones holding it together using the pink pill glue. I want you other MOPP's (moms on pink pills) to know that in certain seasons of our lives life is tough. Too tough to manage on our own. That in itself does not consitute swallowing the oval every day. True mental illness, however, coupled with these tough times in our lives does. Mental illness runs in my family. I was destined to deal with it. First through watching my own family members struggle, then doing it myself. Sharing with others is theraputic to me, albeit difficult. Thus, there will be more posts involving post-partum depression, depression, and anxiety and how I deal, don't deal, struggle, or conquer.

For the sake of me needing to chuckle about my day instead of cry, I'll share these with you.

Here are some pictures of contributing factors to my daily ingestion of the little pink pillow.

Yes, that is dog piddle. No worries, it was promptly cleaned up and the floor was mopped. But I'm just sayin'.....

This is the madness I call the living room...five minutes after cleaning it.

And this is me...in my best moment of the day. I am clothed, my hair is out of my face, my teeth are brushed, my children clothed and fed and nap time is around the corner. I will survive this day.

Can I just say...?

Can I just say how inordinately lively this day has been? Thank you...I will. I will even illustrate. Hold on to your Special K bars, this will look and read like throwing up sounds.

First, I take out my frying pan from its usual nook in the oven drawer and I realize how truly scummy that drawer is. Peer closer...you can see the outline of my frying pan amidst the impurities. Behold...the after shot (enter heavenly choir).

Following this, I was bitten by the preparedness bug which set in motion what I like to call PMAT (preparing meals ahead of time). I rarely PMAT. Today I resolved to PMAT regularly instead.


The aroma in my kitchen was strange being that it was before 0900 and I was already tasting fajitas and roasted chicken thighs. I drooled a little.

Why a picture of bleach? Because when you inherit a colossal pet carrier from your parents, which was formerly used as a farm-cat house, and you choose to put your animal in it before cleaning it up first, you will beyond any doubt end up with your animal puking liquid farm-cat poo it licked off the carrier, not to mention stinking something awful. Here is Hugo after his bath. Might I add the fact that Great Value scents its bleach like lavender does in no way mean you should envision my house smelling like fields of blossoms.

This post in its entirety unfolded alongside a late morning appointment, a trip to Wal-Mart, and home for lunch. What I'm trying to say, really, is that it is only 1530 and I am ready to clock OUT! Lord please get me to bedtime with my hair in its roots and my paper towel roll with at least 3 sheets left on it.

What are you Worth?

Oh please...now this caught my attention and made me feel like a mixed bag of emotions. Like a Wal-Mart plastic shopping bag that, of course, has holes in it type of bag. Supposedly you can go here and cry over what your salary should be as a stay-at-home mom.

I guess I'm supposed to be worth approximately $117,000.00 per year. This did NOT fulfill some empty space a therapist would tell me I need to fill in order to convince myself what I do is just as important as the female lawyer next door. In reality it felt somewhat degrading because this is an enormous calculatory error on the part of the 19 year-old techie who came up with the formula. And really? You want me to click on that link so I can print out a check and hang it on my fridge next to my toddler's scribbling of the dog's pile of poo? As if that is going to wondrously change my outlook on life. It certainly won't help me get up any earlier, fold the laundry any faster, wipe a bum any better, or make my lunch for me, now will it?

YOU are the only one that can determine and recognize your worth. What we do as MAH's (moms at home) can't be calculated by Tommy (I thought that sounded like a computer geek's name). In fact, our worth is already figured. Its spelled out in any Gospel doctrine you choose to research (within the standard works, anyway). We are DAUGHTERS OF DEITY! Not a dollar figure on an awful shade of blue printed check hanging on the fridge. Who cares about all of that, anyway. It never made a mom feel any more appreciated knowing what she "could" be making if staying home and raising kids were a "real" job.

Give me a sticky hand rubbing my cheek or a slimey kiss from a baby. Those are my rewards and I'm glad to have the rubbery dried snot on my shoulder instead of a big paycheck to show that I love my "job" and that it is truly meritorious.

Got SAHM?

I was lying in bed last night amused at the acronyms used to refer to Moms who choose to stay home with their children and all things related. I should've been sleeping. It probably would've made for a better blog post had I dozed off into dreamland, but my mind wouldn't stop churning out new and even better acronyms.

Here are some oldies but goodies:
SAHM - Stay At Home Mom
DH - Dearest Husband
DS - Dearest Son
DD - Dearest Daughter
I've even seen DT - Dearest Twins (laugh out loud)

Here is the new and improved list:
SAHSATIFOOR - Stays At Home Spending All Time In Front Of Oprah Reruns
CIBBHIT - Covered In Breakfast But Hanging In There
SAHAGADSIL - Stays At Home And Gets A Daily Shower If Lucky
NIWILF - Naptime Is What I Live For
DS-AUKHALIIT - Dearest Son- Are You Kidding How About Loudest Infant In Town
INAMAP - I Need A Massage And Pedicure

Does it weird me out that these are the things running through my mind at 11pm? Nah...because I'm a SAASAHMHIHOMSS (Stressed And Anxious Stay At Home Mom Hoping I Help Other Moms Stay Sane). Acronyms make me grin. In any case, it was enough to help me get my mind off the laundry for a few minutes.

Make me grin moment!

What acronyms have you thought of related to our special stay-at-home world? Leave me a comment!

"And today is the day..."

"And today is the day you wore your lipstick..."

One liner from a neighborhood girl who's family (sisters and brother) have become my newest yardwork helpers. It never fails that within minutes of stepping outside to work in my yard, they appear out of nowhere insisting on helping. They grab whatever yard tool is lying closest to them and dig in.

I love my little helpers. I really have accomplished more in my yard in one week than I could've on my own in three. We've cleared a corner of my yard that was overgrown with raspberry vines, tiny trees, garbage and chopped firewood (amongst broken glass and nails) that the previous homeowners left for us. We've planted two rows of petunias, blue angel hostas, watered plants, mulched...the list goes on.

Then today the most amazing thing happened. As I was planting petunias with my oldest and middle babes, my usual helpers came skipping into my yard and slowly, one by one, the "park crowd" made their way over to my yard. At one point I had over 10 kids, most of them the normal troublemakers. They helped wet the newspaper I layed down prior to mulching and they watered for me (while getting each other wet, too). I paused at one point and looked around and felt like I might have realized in that moment part of the reason I'm in Marshalltown. You know...well, maybe you don't...but you know when you wonder why God has placed you somewhere and you seriously rack your brain and can't, for the life of you, understand why you ended up in a strange town you know nothing about and never EVER imagined yourself living in? Well...this might be a tiny bit of an answer for me...not the whole thing, but a taste I think.

Ah...tomorrow will be just as interesting. Things change from moment to moment here.

Mi Familia on Easter. I wanted some cute pics of us as a fam on our porch of all front porches and thought bright colors would be fitting. Looks like Mattea is the brightest of us all! Aren't we a handsome family?!
My Mommy and Daddy. Too bad I wasn't quick enough with the camera I could've caught my Dad walking around with his belly sticking out and a goofy look on his face. Such a joker. So cute that my mom insisted on the picture being taken by the pole, so the railing could hide her.
There are people that like "posey" pics. I am not one of them. This picture shows the true personality of each of my kids. Tate the joker, Gunnar the serious little big dude, and Mattea the emotional superstar. I love me my kids!
Me and my hubby. I'm so proud of him for making it through Easter absolutely exhausted from a week of major studying for his classes and dealing with his "special" employees. Doesn't he look nice in his icey blue linen?
The grandparents, great-grandparent, and all the grandkids...including Hugo. After all, he thinks he's one of them.

It was an amazing Easter. We colored eggs this morning, then I filled the Easter baskets (yes, a little late). The fam showed up around 11 and we had a special Easter egg hunt that included eggs filled with scrumptious candy and six extra special eggs each with an item inside representing Easter. Bread, a nail, a rock, a bandaid, a hershey's kiss, and an empty one. Can you think of what those stand for? The dog snuck up and snacked on the bread and Tate exclaimed, "He ate the Last Supper!!!" We all got a great belly laugh.

After lunch of BBQ chicken legs, green beans, corn bread and pie, the "girls" and Tate went to the pond at a gorgeous cemetery about a block from our house and we fed the ducks and geese with some leftover hamburger buns from last week. There were two human-sized swans there that were just larger than should be allowed for a water-fowl, but they fascinated the kids (and the adults).

It was a good day. Now we are snacking on some fish sticks (thanks to Mattea) and mac and cheese. As if I could fit anything else in my tummy after all the candy and pie!

I'm officially a community activist! Oh dear...

The Parks and Rec Dept. wasted no time in responding to my complaint email about the park next door and the, uh, ambitious and young crowd that hangs out from 3pm until way past dark not to mention the broken glass and trash scattered all through the grass and rocks. Just a big safety violation spread out over two acres or so.

Today a P&R Dept. employee was at the park walking around with an important looking notepad jotting down poems for all I know...but he did look like he was taking notes about the equipment and condition of the area. As for the ambitious and young crowd, well, I was told to call the police about them. They all need a big, fat time-out in jooovey as far as I'm concerned.

I will make a difference, I'm determined. I prayed and prayed two nights ago that God would help me know what I could do to help make this a safe place for my kids to play. I sent my email with my fingers crossed and my head turned upwards and look what happened...my prayers have already started to be answered. Oh, and the historic Hughes Grove Neighborhood we are a part of added me to their association email list so I can attend the next meeting and help be a voice for our residents. I really can't remember having a prayer answered in such a short amount of time. I think my normal answer delivery time is anywhere between 3-6 months. No joke!

Three Oh

My thirtieth birthday was yesterday...the best birthday I can remember ever having. Husband got me a house (haha)...by the way we close Tuesday. My mom got me an antique ladder that I plan on decorating with. My friend Angie surprised me with a pedicure at my favorite salon...and boy do I feel sorry for the girl that worked on my feet...but they are SO gorgeous and soft now. I hadn't been that relaxed in a LONG time.I sort of regret not having taken any pictures to keep and share, but I have vivid and amazing picture memories to keep for myself.

After pedicure, Ang suggested we go get a piece of cheescake from The Cheesecake Factory. Seriously, I'm never going to turn an offer like that down, so off we went. We walk into the mall to go into the restaurant entrance and I see Angie's husband Shawn sitting on a bench. I knew right then something was up because he was supposed to be at home with their two girls. I figured Mike was inside somewhere waiting to surprise me but still was a little confused. Turns out he was inside and had a table waiting for us. It was perfect, great food, the best company...we took a walk around the little pond in the center of the shopping plaza afterwards. Good thing we did because we were all so full we wanted to throw up and the cold air helped a lot. One last surprise when I got into the car to go home, Mike had bought me a book on beading jewelry and I was so happy! I have been wire wrapping all of my pieces and hadn't learned true beading yet so I'm excited to make some new pieces with new techniques. Home to my homemade birthday cake from my Dad and the night ended perfectly.

He's such a boy...she's such a girl...

Mattea...such a girlie girl. I always say I'm not sure where she came from. Of course I know...it was the land of sensitive fairy queens...where feelings are hurt at the slightest off movement or tone of voice...where headbands are crowns and baby dolls get breastfed...where there are always birds tweeting and clouds floating by and grass to see. My Queenie...I love her to pieces.

Gunnar is such a boy. Always moving, squirming to see what is going on around him. His new "talent" is growling. In fact, I'm not sure he went a whole three minutes today WITHOUT growling. He is such a great note to end on. He and Mattea have finally been interacting as brother and sister instead of random baby and toddler. By saying that, I mean fighting over toys, feeding off of each other's cries and whines, and laughing at each other.

The Mountain and the River

Mattea has really discovered her imagination. She loves to pretend and I probably owe that to Dora. Lately she claims that, whenever Daddy is gone, he has gone to the "mountain" and had to go through the "river". She then persistently says "ok? ok?" until you agree with her. She then gives you an approving look and grunts...as if to say "Ok then...conversation over."

Heaven on Earth

I spent a few hours here today...




The Winter Quarters LDS Temple in Omaha, NE. Gorgeous, peaceful, and the closest I can get to my Father in Heaven while on this earth. We took Tate and did baptisms. He LOVED doing it and asked if we could come back once a month. Yes, son! Its a great goal we will have to work to acheive. To see my 12-year old son embracing his beliefs, the temple, the ordinace performed, the Spirit felt...its indescribable and this has been one of the most fulfilling days of my life. I haven't uploaded the few pics we took afterwards, but will soon. Until then...here are a few more of the temple itself. The history behind Winter Quarters is unbelieveable and I encourage anyone reading this post to explore here.

My new favorite color

Happy Dance? Why yes...I'd love to! My future is looking quite....YELLOW!!!!!!!!!!! Just got word from the bank and my darling, yellow, front porch rockin', 5 bedroom flaunting, giant pine tree wearing house is OURS!

Yellllooooo Yellow!

Could this be it? Praying for something hasn't felt this necessary and urgent in a while! Butterflies in my tummy, tingly nerves, restless legs...this is how I know I am 100% in love with this house. Verbal offer was accepted tonight and written offer will be submitted tomorrow morning. What?! Did that really just happen?!

Yep...I do this...I love it...for real.

Boyfriend Jacket

Last night my Mom gave me a "boyfriend jacket" she had bought that ended up being too long for her in the sleeves. I never have that problem because I have abnormally long arms for some reason. About every 4-6 weeks I inherit something my Mother has purchased that just didn't end up fitting right. This is just fine with me.

I was thinking about boyfriend style clothing (jeans, jackets, etc.). Obviously the name comes from some ingenius MAN who designs clothing and thinks it would be fabulous to create clothing cut for a MAN and that would really only look natural on MEN...and the 0.5% of women that happen to have the body of a man (i.e. no hips, training bra-sized chest, skinny thighs, lack of love handles, etc.). All I know is no boyfriend of mine ever had any clothing that would've flattered my body style.

So I wear the boyfriend jacket with the fabric puckering slightly between the buttons in the area that bear hugs my baby-bearing hips and smile at the irony...realizing I'm thankful for being shaped like a WOMAN.

Picking up the Pieces

So, I get annoyed talking about New Year's Eve resolutions. I think its mostly a waste of time to make them. Why should we wait until the beginning of a calendar year to set a few goals for ourselves, knowing in the back of our minds we don't really plan to put more than 87% effort into them and only for a few weeks? I am all about goal setting and improving myself in all aspects, however making a big event out of it just sets me up for failure.

I have God-given talents that are going to waste and I have decided its time to come out of my funk and embrace them. Where is my full-sized keyboard Husband got me for Christmas back in 2006? Why don't I write more often when I know I have the potential to rock at it? I am actually a good cook but deny it outloud so when I fail its "ok". I really do LOVE physical fitness and eating healthy so I should just stop using other people and things as excuses and just DO IT for fudges sake! I want to go to medical school, darn it! I'm going to do it if it takes me 15 years to complete! I like not wearing makeup as long as my eyebrows and upper lip are freshly shaped and waxed so geez, I'm going to stop investing in the newest mascara or foundation and just be who I want to be already!

Ew...I hate have a sluggish time in my life. Time to perk up and just move on. Leave the cute little white and green pills behind, accept that 6 hours of sleep per night could possibly be a permanent thing, find ways to cope and love and live like I don't have a tomorrow.