I suppose it was a romantic way to die...for a spider!

Well, peeps. It's been three years since my last post. Shameful. There's no other word for it. I mean, I'm not even sure I should even be allowed back on here...this place called "the internet." Do blogs expire? Have I expired? Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever going to recover my ability for intelligent thought. In fact, I'm worried there's a blog police out there somewhere who's going to find out I had the audacity to try blogging again. *hide me.*

Some serious life has happened in those three years. We've added to our "quiver full" and now have two more girls in the family! Rue is now two and a half years old and has turned out to be one of the feistiest, strong-willed, enthusiastic toddlers I have ever had the privelege to meet, raise, birth. All those things. She's rocked my world. Everything you thought you knew about how to deal with toddlers is officially obselete. I think she's a new breed of super human that requires discipline techniques that have not yet been discovered by modern science or psychology...(or just me.)

Thank you, Heavenly Father, for sending us Annie. She is the most calm, sweet child I have ever met...maybe that's her superpower. In fact, if she was a vampire, she would be Jasper and ooze out calming juice to everyone around her when things get tense. When she was first born, she could sleep through a Rue tantrum. And if you've witnessed one of those, boy howdy, you'd know what a statement that really is. I suppose all my kids have different super powers, Rue just hasn't learned how to harness hers yet. She's like Cyclops from the first X-men movie...before he got his visor. Just call me Professor X. I wish I could read minds...

*Sigh*...enough movie references. On to the story about the dead spider.

Motherhood is nothing if not full of hilarious anecdotes. What better way to re-start this blog than with one of those?

I was sitting on a bench at the park, multi-tasking as mothers often do. I was nursing Annie (discreetly, of course) and watching Felix and Rue play on the playground, then I felt a tickle on my face. Just a hair. Go away annoying hair, I'm busy here. Swipe-swipe. I quickly realized after swiping, that it wasn't a hair after all. It was a spider string. And now that string-less spider was homeless and decided he would search my shirt for new home sites. When it first fell into my cleavage, I resisted the urge to start shrieking, flapping, and hopping...that would work directly against my goal of nursing discreetly. So, I tried to get it out before it really got lost, but it was a wriggly and very uncooperative. It got lost...in there. It was gone. I couldn't see it. And I couldn't really feel it, but I imagined I could feel it everywhere. You know how that is? Once you imagine a bug on you, all of a sudden you think you're getting bitten all over. At this point I'm still resisting the urge to start doing the "get that spider out of my shirt" dance around the park, but in my head I'm screaming bloody murder. My goal soon changed from "find that spider," "to just watch to make sure the spider doesn't climb out and bite Annie on the face while she eats."

When Annie *finally* finished eating, I could really get down to business. My first search was fruitless. I'm still at the very public park, and even though there wasn't anyone in my immediate vicinity, I was still trying to stay dressed, despite my growing panic (discreet flew out the window). I decided I was really going to have to go for it, or go home. I won't go into details about my exact search methods, but I finally found it! Curled up. Dead. Underneath my right breast. And suddenly this was all very funny. I didn't have to strip at the park, or drive home with a spider in my shirt. And all I could think about was Anne Shirley when she discovers the mouse...dead in the plum pudding sauce. "I suppose it was a romantic way to die...for a [spider]!"

I know I love you...but do I LIKE you?

As a stay-at-home Mom, showing love to my kids on a daily basis can be difficult. And my emotions and short-temper are only exacerbated by my pregnancy hormones. What to do, what to do? I try to remember to pray daily to be filled with love for my children and husband and read my scriptures, but I'm not sure it's working...and it worries me because my kids are only getting older and their memories are only getting keener.

So, I decided I'm going to focus more on liking my children. I know I love them. I know they love me. The love will always be there. You almost can't help it. But the liking...Oi!

Let's say you meet someone you like and you're trying to become their friend. Hey, I like that person, I'd like to get to know them better. Maybe you drop off a thoughtful gift. Call them on the phone. Shoot them a witty email. Plan a playdate (that's more for moms than kids anyway.) We do lots of things to try to get the message out that we like them, and we try our best to do things that will make them like us in return.

So, I ask myself, "Do I like my children?" Would I do all the above to try to win my children's affections? (While maintaining appropriate mother-child boundaries instead of becoming friends, of course!) Hmmm...No, I would not choose you as my shopping companion, but most of the time I have no choice, so I might as well act as though you are my chosen companion. I choose you, Little Friend. Let's have some fun together! I want you with me.

It's working today. Although, it is difficult to maintain when Charly is crying in my face because she's not getting what she wants. Most of my chosen friends don't throw tantrums...at least not in front of me. But most of my friends aren't four years old, either.

I'm just hoping this mindset helps me enjoy our time together. Because that's the abundant yet unavoidable commodity I have right now -- TIME with my children. That won't always be the case.

Just trying to make the best of it.

Mother Thoughts

I've had a lot of random "mother thoughts" lately. Thoughts that I would never ever have if I didn't have small children mucking about. And they're not deep or profound or life-changing, they're just taking up valuable real estate in my pregnant brain and I need that space for other things -- like remembering my children's names.

1. It is far more advantageous for me to park near a shopping cart receptacle than close to the doors of the store.

2. I am no longer surprised to find my children completely naked at random times during the day. I just wish they didn't choose to change their entire outfit right before we had to run out the door.

3. I'm having an inner debate as to how worried I should be when my son dresses up in pink sparkly dress-ups and announces, "I feel beautiful." The answer is: not very.

4. If you don't rinse or wipe off oatmeal or shredded wheat from your counters and dishes before they dry...your day will be ruined.

4. It doesn't matter how clean your house is at the end of the day, it will be trashed again tomorrow...even if your children do have their own chores.

5. Being apart from each other for portions of the day can make for a happier family, especially sibling rivalries.

6. My kids are very good, I just forget it sometimes.

7. My house is never perfect, or even acceptable...but if I completely threw in the towel, it would be even worse. That's why I keep plugging along.

8. My kids can help more than I realize.

9. I never thought I'd live in a place where we all needed rain boots. But we do.

10. If you fight for good routines for your kids, they'll help fight for them later on when you're burned out...like reading scriptures and brushing teeth.

11. I might have to start doing more than five loads of laundry each week, but I'll fight this as long as possible. It seems wrong to have more than one of the following categories: whites, lights, brights, mediums, and darks. (This does not include my other linens; sheets and towels are another day.)

12. I will never again get a dark kitchen floor. Crumbs shine like bright stars in the night sky.

13. I have no patience for ugly clothes anymore and I'm embarrassed as to what maternity clothes I used to wear. I'm getting rid of at least half of them.

14. Sometimes the practicality of a house is more important than the beauty of it.

15. I want my kids to love and like me, (not at the expense of discipline) but sometimes I feel like a big mother bear growling through life.

16. This is hard.

17. Why does dust exist?

18. I hope I still have time to can some peaches this year.

19. Sometimes a walk to the mailbox is my exercise for the day.

20. I'm glad my kids still give me a hug and kiss goodnight even though I just finished yelling at them.

21. I'm glad I say "sorry" to my kids if I'm wrong.

Writing

You know, it's really great when your kids learn how to read and write. Then they can write you notes like, "I hate you" and "You ruined my birthday."

It's awesome.

I also receive numerous "I love you" pictures, but for some reason, those aren't as memorable as they should be.

Uh...Police?

Thursday night I had to run to the store to get some last-minute goodies for Sam's birthday party. Not too long after I got home, there was a knock at the door. This was odd. Mostly because (A.) Nobody ever comes to my door, and (B.) It was 9:30 at night. I was even more surprised when two policemen were waiting to question me about the hysterical little girl my neighbor saw wandering up and down the street from what looked like an unoccupied home.

Wow. Charly heard me leave, started bawling her eyes out (not unusual), got up, went outside, walked up and down the streets looking for me (very unusual), all why Jon and others snoozed in the house (totally normal).

"Let me go check and see if she's here." Yes. Charly was asleep in her bed.
"My husband has been here the whole time." Translate: No, I don't leave my kids unattended EVER, however tempting that may be. Also Translate: I will go yell at my husband immediately.

After asking me my full name, date of birth, driver's license number, fingerprinting me, and getting a DNA sample, they left. Translate: They just asked me my name and birthdate, but still. Child welfare police on my door? Charly, you're makin' me look bad!

But, my conversation with Jonny really went like this: "So...two police came over because Charly was wandering around outside. Did you hear her leave the house?"

"Uh...no. But she was hysterical when you left...and I think I heard her come back in." Translation: I wasn't curious enough to find out what she'd been doing OUTSIDE at 9:00 at night.

Luckily, Pullman's a safe town. And I love my husband.

Choosing Your Battles

Every child has "their thing." And every child invites you onto a new battlefield with new weapons and rules you haven't yet learned. As a parent, you can choose to fight the really important ones that involve safety and damage to property.

Sometimes we find ourselves fighting battles that we realize later aren't that important. Do we keep fighting or pull back?

For example: when your two year old boy morphs into an unrecognizable heap of flailing flesh, tears, screams, and super-human strength because he'd rather sit in his sister's old pink booster seat instead of the cool new black and orange one you bought him for Christmas...you fight him on it, then realize that you don't really care. Now we're both happy, and Felix thinks he's getting away with something sneaky every time he climbs into Sammy's old seat. Now we both have something to grin about.

Then, when his favorite hobby becomes changing his clothes, you're just glad when he learns to take off his own shirts, making your help unnecessary and obselete. Again, we're both happy.

It's 7:44 in the morning and already we're on shirt #5 and pants #3.

It's gonna be a great day.

"Bless this mess."

I loved this quote today.
“Clean enough to be healthy, messy enough to be happy."

Read the rest of the article here.