I Get It

My kids owe me.  Big time.  There are the little things like dinner and folded clothes and rides to and from everywhere.  Then the bigger things like midnight drinks of water, a safe home, hugs and kisses and kind words.  Add braces and ballet slippers and combing tangly hair and playing Monopoly on a Friday night and you can see how deeply they're in debt.

But they just can't pay it back.  It's not possible.  They don't have the capacity or even the comprehension of what it takes to raise a family.  They just don't get it.

And that's okay.  See I don't need the money back that I've spent feeding and clothing and protecting these babies.  I don't want it.  Here is what I do want.  I want them to have happy and obedient hearts.  I want them to see a sibling in need and offer to help.  I want them to love their brothers and sisters and their parents.

I'm in debt also, to a God above that has provided everything for me and continues to bless me. He sent His Son here to this earth for me and you and everyone else who will ever call this place home.  I'm oblivious and unaware of what it takes to sustain my life here on this earth.  I have no comprehension of the magnitude of His blessings.  I just can't grasp it, it's beyond my understanding.

And that's okay.  See, all He asks of me is to have a happy and obedient heart.  He wants me to notice when someone near me is in need and He wants me to help.  He expects me to be kind to my brothers and sisters even if (and maybe especially if) they are different from me.  It doesn't matter what we look like or how we see the world, we're all children of the same loving Father in Heaven.

I can never pay Him back but I can try to do my part, my small part.

The State of Things

I'm tired.  Not unheard of, I know.  But when you're the exhausted one it feels like you're the lone sufferer.  My days start early.  That's my own fault.  I like to get up and run and then get myself ready before the kids wake up.  That makes my days really long.  I like having a clean house so I work to make it that way.  Instead of hanging out on the couch I'm cleaning the toys out from underneath.  I don't like sitting and doing nothing, I'd rather be working on a project.  Even if that project is just throwing soccer balls onto the roof so that they bounce off for my kids to chase after.

I kept meaning to take a break today and do something unproductive before my classes start back up later this week but this morning the kids were playing so nicely together that I kept doing just one more project.  Then later this afternoon they were recreating all of the wars in the history of the world so I was kept busy refereeing.  I wanted to go to bed early but instead I consoled a heartbroken baby and then went to a committee meeting.

I hate being tired because not only does it mess with my energy level but it also colors my normal happy outlook on life.  I'm less able to deal with the constant demands of the family.  Serving the people that I love begins to feel like a prison sentence instead of the vocation that I willingly and gratefully chose.  I know that a good night's sleep will change my perspective.  I know that it's not a permanent state of being but right now it feels like the only way to fit everything in is to sacrifice my sleep time.  I know, it's stupid.  If one of my friends said the same thing to me I would do my best to convince them of the idiocy of their ways (in a kind and loving way, of course) but I guess maybe I just think that somehow I'm different.  Crazy.

So the moral of this whine is that none of us are special.  We all need to get adequate amounts of rest and we need to take care of ourselves.  I haven't figured out how to do that but don't the experts say that admitting that you have a problem is the first step?

Hmmm....

The question last night at the dinner table, well the question that was asked after the usual "do I have to eat this?" and my personal favorite "this is yucky, why don't you make yummy food?" so after those were asked the way they are EVERY FREAKING NIGHT the question was this: am I happy because my life is good or is life good because I'm happy?

The husband thinks it's all in your attitude, if you have a positive take on things than life will be better.  I think it's a combination of both.  Attitude makes a HUGE difference but I also know that some of my happiness is based in situation.  Like the husband finally finishing school last weekend (ten years people, TEN YEARS) and job prospects and a warm home and of course the short people in my life.

So I don't know, what's your take on things?

Are you happy because life is good or is life good because you're happy?

Love you guys!

No Photoshop Necessary

I'm thinking Christmas card.  After all this is what our family really looks like.  Scraggly hair, interesting pants/ shorts combos and fearless rail surfing.

At least no one is screaming...

love the miles

Daily Five

I've been keeping the postpartum depression at bay this time around and here are a few of the reasons why. 

1. Exercise.  I had this idea at the beginning of September.  I was going to exercise every single day for the whole month.  Beginning to end.  I figured it would be a good way to get back on track and start feeling like myself again.  I think I made it through the first four days.  Then I fell off the wagon.  And now we're back to the usual 4-6 days a week, not bad but not 30 days straight.  I run (very slowly), I lift weights (little bitty tiny ones) and I've started practicing yoga again (sort of).  It makes me feel good and keeps me happy and gives me the illusion that someday I will have abs of steel.
2. Read my scriptures and pray.  I'm working on the Book of Mormon these days.  I'm also praying for more patience.  Of course every one knows that when you pray for patience God laughs and makes your kids dance on your last nerve.  Maybe I should leave the P word out of things.
3. One meaningful project.  You know how you clean your house and then the kids get home from school and it looks like a bomb went off?  At least mine does, so meaningful project does not mean the regularly scheduled shoveling out.  The definition of meaningful project is A: must be completed start to finish in under 10 minutes and 2: it has to be something above and beyond regular home maintenance.  For example: organizing my shoes, cleaning the top of the fridge, dusting the dryer.  You can see how high the bar is set around here but organize your shoes and then tell me you don't get a little thrill every time you see them nicely in a row.  No really, someone back me up on this so I don't feel like such a weirdo.
4. Eat healthy.  Cookies for lunch, bad.  Soup and a sandwich, good.  Cheese nachos for a morning snack, very bad.  Hummus and veggies, very good.  You get the idea.  Eat healthy you feel good.  Opposite, feel bad.
5. Get enough sleep.  That means not too much and not too little.  My baby laughs at this.  She thinks it's hilarious when I tell her that people actually sleep all through the night without any milk refills.  But I remember that when I used to get enough sleep I felt much better.  I also remember that if I took a super long nap then I'd feel kinda worthless for the rest of the day. Someday I'll give too much sleep another shot just to see if I'm remembering it correctly but for now I can testify that not getting enough sleep makes it hard to function.

So to review.  Exercise: check.  Reading my scriptures and praying: 75% check.  One meaningful project: check.  Eating healthy: 50/50 check.  Sleep: not even but a girl can hope.

Aunt Sandra

She's coming home today!  My baby sister, who's totally not even a baby anymore, is coming home from a year and a half in Russia.

She's been teaching the people in Russia about Christ and how families can be together forever.

I've missed her pretty face.

Surviving Sunday

We had a special church meeting today.  Three hours long.  Normally you can find us Mormons in church every Sunday for three hours, that's not the out of the ordinary part.  Usually that looooong stretch of time is divided into 3 different parts.  That means moving around and changes of scenery and different teachers who usually aren't your parents.  You know, things to make life better.

Can you imagine her saying "no more church please, you're killing me!"  Or maybe I'm projecting...

Today it was three hours.  In the same room.  With the same boring parents and the same boring (to the short people) broadcast.

But the husband and I aren't rookies so we had a plan.

Sort of.

It involved lots of paper, pencils, blank address labels and some bribery in the form of food.  We also took a walk around the building around the first hour and made several trips to the drinking fountain.  Oh and don't forget the "pick your battles" talk the grownups memorized.  It goes something like this.

Yes Grant is sitting in the windowsill.  That's okay, it's not like there's a line for it.  Oh and look at Anna, she's helping Nathan fill in the address labels and then sticking them on his shirt.  At least they're not putting them on the walls.  Jennie has had about a pound of cranberries and still wants more.  They're supposed to be good for your bladder right?

I'm pretty sure that all parents who make it through long meetings with their offspring are getting a fast pass to heaven.

We deserve it.

Wednesday Afternoon

3:00 double check all bags to be sure there are cleats/ shin guards/ ballet shoes/ etc.
3:15 load Suburban with crying baby (because you've rudely interrupted her nap) and talkative preschooler and nine million sports bags and snacks/ dinner
3:25 re-buckle preschooler because he had to go to the bathroom one more time, hey, better now than while waiting in traffic
3:27 comfort inconsolable baby but know that it's probably a lost cause, poor girl
3:40 drive two blocks to wait for the always late bus but you're being optimistic that it just might be on time today
3:50 no such luck, late again, load three older kids, ask questions about school, deflect any TV requests with "we'll see, maybe later", translation: dream on kid
4:03 late for ballet again, yay us (sarcastic yay), maybe next week
5:15 on time to first soccer practice (sincere yay)
6:30 hand off two kids to the husband, he's off to second soccer practice
6:45 home with three kids, shower for the oldest, bed for the preschooler and a marathon nursing session with the baby
7:30 two kids home, backpack sorting begins, gathering of all the smelly clothes happens, kids shower and go to bed
8:00 pack lunches (normally the kids do it but it's easier to have mom do it tonight), clean kitchen (sort of), hope that listening to an audio book in the car counts as 20 minutes of reading (it should...), listen to baby cry while the best dad in the world does his best to comfort her

The End

Time Flies

Somehow I had two babies at the same time (oh my word!) and I managed to feed and change them and generally survive the chaos.   I think I was younger back then.

circa 2006

They grew up and now they feed and dress themselves and definitely create large doses of chaos.  They still make me tired.

just last week

Obviously our family is just not capable of taking family pictures where everyone is A: smiling, B: looking at the camera or C: sitting up straight.  I think that needs to be our next family project...

2011...  I think

This picture makes me happy.  I love my kids, LOVE THEM!

july 2013

Happy Tuesday!

Love, Kristen

Three Things

1. I am confused about something happening in the distance.
2. Nathan requires hands on guidance during pictures.
3. Polka dots there wishes Grant would move out of her way and that leggings will never go out of style.

1. Maggie is actually screaming her head off.
2. Nathan can't smile his usual sweet smile in a picture, instead it must be a "crazy" smile.  His words, not mine.
3. Grant is now old enough to restrain his brother during endless family pictures.

1. If you cry long enough you will eventually fall asleep on the couch.
2. Sometimes Anna is kind enough to let her younger siblings borrow her stuffed animals.
3. Yes, he is giving all of us the middle finger.  Interpret that how you want.

Back To School

The older kids are all in school now.  I cried.  Because that's what I do.  I just wear sunglasses and try not to talk to anyone.

Anna's in fourth grade this year.  That means she'll be leaving for law school (the girl knows how to argue) in just a couple of minutes.  I think I'm going to throw up.

Grant is in first.  He's going to be starting medical school the day after tomorrow (he's very curious about how things work).  I'm just going to assume the fetal position now.

Jennie slid into first.  She's going to dominate the ballet stage any second now (she really can dance).  My heart just stopped.

Nathan is in preschool.  That means he'll be on his way to college after lunch (future still undetermined).  I need suggestions on how exactly you stop your kids from growing...

Yeah, yeah I know your children are supposed to grow up and take over the world but does that mean that they really have to leave the nest?  I mean, that's hard for this momma to deal with.  I don't think I'm cut out for the goodbye part of parenting.  It's rough.

Oh and if none of my children actually become what I've decided they should be I'll get over it, probably.  After all what child really does what their parent tells them...

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

Maggie will be month old tomorrow.  

I still don't sleep.

The house is umm, frightening.

The kids are getting sick of cereal.  Of cold cereal can you imagine?  I would have killed to have cold cereal everyday but I digress.

We found out that Maggie has acid reflux.  That's why she's been spitting up through her nose.  Weird huh?  She doesn't have any of the other symptoms like weight loss or screaming or projectile vomiting.  Just spit up through her nose.

I realize that you have responsibilities, a life, a husband, animals, etc to take care of but really I could use your help.  Plus I'm out of granola bars.  I really need some more.

I have proof of just how competent you are, here you are running payroll for hundreds of people all while comforting my crying baby and telling me that millions of women have had children and they survived so odds are good that I will too.

So like I was saying, come back Mom.  I miss you.

Love,

Your Favorite Daughter

These days

Match the bullet point to the picture.

• The gorgeous queen's crown.  Being the costume director for a ballet (especially if you've never actually seen said ballet) is an adventure in creativity.
• Seriously the best salad I've had in recent memory.  There were grapes, oranges, and strawberries along with feta cheese and some incredible glazed pecans.  It was dressed with an incredible raspberry vinaigrette with a bit of a kick to it.  I still think about how good that salad was.
• The three older kids taught themselves how to ride a bike.  With no parental involvement.  That means the husband and I scored big time.  No hunching over running after the bike... we are blessed.  Part two, notice Grant's bike.  I found it a consignment store.  For $25.  Quite possibly the greatest score ever.
• The dollar aisle at Hobby Lobby contains treasures.  Especially useful for rainy days.
• Our floor project has continued to morph.  We, meaning I, figured that while the family room couches were out in the garage that we, meaning I would take advantage of the chaos and paint the family room.  I'm tired of the brown/ tan/ beige/ boring walls.  So we're upgrading to a gorgeous yellow.  I had to re texture the ceiling (thank you builders).  Friday night I painted the freshly textured ceiling.  Saturday morning I thought about crying because my arms hurt.  I'm planning to paint the walls tonight and the trim sometime later this week.  That means that if we're lucky and I remain motivated, the kids might be able to sit on couches instead of camp chairs to watch PBS kids.  Maybe.
• This is Rothbart's hood.  He's the bad guy in Swan Lake (but I've never seen it so I couldn't tell you exactly how bad) and his costume is incredible.  I say that with a certain amount of pride because somehow I, along with divine help from above created something pretty amazing.
• My oldest girl, Anna is incredible.  Someday I'll write a mushy post about how much I love her and how wise beyond her years she is but for now just know that she's amazing.  She's the kind of person that just makes me want to be better.  She's a blessing.
• Nathan hasn't mastered the two wheel bike skill yet so he's banished to a bike trailer that is technically too small.  We need to upgrade to a bike seat but I'm having a hard time finding one in my price range, $0 to $30.  There doesn't seem to be much in the lower end of that range...  Jennie however has completely mastered the dual arts of bike riding and matching her shoes to her shirt.  She's got skills.

The Calm in the Storm

When tragedy strikes my mind starts to race and I think about the frightening world we live in.  Then I take a deep breath and peace returns.  I remember that there are many things out of my control and that bad, horrible, awful things happen to really good innocent people.  My finite mind offers no explanation for the hateful actions of our fellow citizens of the world.

But here's what I can do.  I can love my family.  When they leave the house I want them to know just how deeply they are connected to me.  I don't just say the words "I love you", I also fold their laundry and feed them.  I give them a soft place to land when the world gets too rough.  I remind them that we're in this family forever and that it doesn't end when mortality closes.  And when I lose my temper and scream in frustration I apologize and tell them how sorry I am.

Today, that's all I can do.

Top 8: What I Love

These gorgeous planks of imitation wood.  I love the look of dark wood, it just looks incredible but...  Last year I stained our deck stairs a dark brown, almost black aaaannnnddd they've looked bad ever since.  Four kids, a dog, a busy housekeeper, it just wasn't a good idea.  So we went light and I LOVE them.  LOVE!

Baby checkup yesterday.  She's healthy and growing.  Along with my arse... but you know, what do you do?  Oh quit eating Peanut M&Ms... right.

The man I married, he's a winner.  Yesterday I had a serious freak out   Like ugly demons took over.  He just rolled with it and when I finally got over myself he didn't even play the injured party card (even though he totally deserved some serious payback).  He's a keeper.

Somehow I hit the offspring jackpot.  My kids are funny (ish), reasonably well behaved and usually thoughtful and kind.  I kinda think they're the greatest people ever to grace this planet.

I read this (scroll down to number 5, I'll wait) on Cari's blog.  I've been laughing ever since.

I really do try to take care of this miraculous baby machine of mine so most mornings I hang out with my friend Sadie Lincoln over at Barre 3.  It's a good time, try it.

I'm a Mormon, a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints if you're being particular and today I'm a stickler because my love for the Savior, well it makes everything that I do not only possible but also meaningful.  I'm blessed to belong to a church that teaches that this life isn't the end of everything, my family that I love so much is mine forever!  That's a pretty great thing to help you make it through the day.

Last of all this boy kills me.  He's still trying to overcome his disappointment that Baby Girl isn't Baby Boy.  I was toweling him off after a shower and this is the conversation we had.

Him:  Why can't our baby be a boy?

Me:  Because Heavenly Father decided we needed a girl.

Him:  (thinking) Well He should have sent a boy too.

Me:  You mean twins?

Him:  Yes, a girl AND a boy.

Me:  Well... He didn't because He loves your momma.

Him:  Oh.  Maybe next time.

The End.

Kristen

If you're strong enough, there are no precedents.

F. Scott Fitzgerald

18 weeks and a (sort of) hair tutorial

Finally, proof that I am expecting more than just an overdose of Birthday Cake Oreos (have you tried them, so good, don't judge).

Oh but look, someone doesn't know how to take pictures of herself.

Let's try again.

Nope, turning to the other side, leaning back and adding a cheesy smile didn't help.

There we are, baby and I are 18 weeks.  We're feeling good.  Two more weeks until we find out whether our two boys will be disappointed or if the girls will suffer heartbreak.  The girls are certain it's a girl, the boys are counting on a boy...

I also had a freaky good hair day.  I followed this tutorial, mostly.  I don't have any clips so I used bobby pins and my hair isn't quite as long and gorgeous as hers.  But I did take more awkward pictures!

Do you want another one?  Okay.

You're welcome.

Blessings in (serious) disguise

Sometimes those things that we pray for come in obvious ways like a new job or a healthy baby but then there are others that come sorta through the back door.

Example #1- The Locked Door

This boy.  Bless his heart.  He's pretty self sufficient these days.  For example he can go to the bathroom by himself, wash his hands and then turn off the light and shut the door.  All on his own.  This pregnant mama is grateful.  But for today let me tell you about the blessing in disguise   He did all of the above but added an extra step, he locked the door behind him.  The bathroom door.  Locked.  I was thrilled.  I pulled out my mini screwdriver and went to work.  I also said out loud "Heavenly Father please help".  It wasn't a real prayer, more of a "Are you kidding me?  Again?" kinda plea.  But here's the miracle, the screwdriver slipped right in, found the little latch thingy and the door opened.  I promise it wasn't me.

Case Study B- The Thread Jam

While mired in the depths of yet another Swan Lake costume (long story, I'll tell you later) I could hear three of the kids playing so nicely together with happy voices and kind words.  Except the exact opposite   As I was sewing I thought "What am I supposed to do with these kids?  They're making me crazy."  Then the sewing machine jammed.  So I turned it off and left the room.  I started reading the literary classic The Truck Goes Vroom!! and peace returned.  The screaming stopped.  The fighting ended and I had a happy home again.

Description III- The Note

I opened my thought for the day and these are the words I read  "Sometimes you just have to take the leap and build your wings on the way down."- Ray Bradbury  I immediately thought of the Swan Lake wings and laughed.  We're on version 63 (give or take a few) and it feels like flying without a set of wings.  It's no coincidence that those were the words I read on the morning that felt like the beginning of failure.

God is in all things, even locked doors and thread jams.

I see Him.

The List (trust me, it's worth your time)

I've been working on a project for a few months and it's sort of taken up all my time.  ALL my time.  But finally I'm ready to share with the world.

I made a list because I'm a list maker.

If you read The List you'll know exactly what I would like for my birthday and why I've (dare I say) earned it.

WAIT!!! Don't write me off as a person with ego to spare, you have to read The List first, after all I've spent some time working on it.

1.  I'll be 31 this year.  That's totally a milestone.  Really it is.  The traditional gift for the 31 year old woman is something sparkly, I prefer clear sparkle with a hint of fire but really I'll take any color.  I will also accept cash.

2.  My daughter turns 9 this year, 2 days before my above mentioned birthday.  The traditional gift for the woman who gave birth to her first child 2 days before she turned 22 is, umm, I don't know.  Let's just say that I could use a new pair of boots... or cash of course.

3.  Finally the last reason why I need a really great present is that 3 days before I turn 31, August 8 if you were wondering, Miles' child number 5 will be arriving.  Yep, you read that right.  I said FIVE.  I'm tired just thinking about it, also a little nauseous but mostly tired.  The traditional gift for the mother of child number 5 is all of the above plus some well, cash.

Five, people, five.

Kristen

PS- I'm only half as self- centered as this post makes me seem, just half...

A revelation (of sorts)

I've spent some time being a bit troubled/ confused/ frustrated by the story of Martha and Mary in the Bible.  Go here for the King James Version but for the lazy among us I'll give you the Tic- Tac version.  Jesus was in the home of Mary and Martha teaching.  Martha was working to get the home ready for the guests that were sure to come while Mary sat and listened. 

I've always identified with Martha.  After all elves don't exist (don't tell my kids) so someone has to cook the food and clean the house and and and...

After Martha complained to Jesus about her "lazy" sister, He told her that Mary had chosen the better part.  What?!  Now those of you that are more spiritually mature than me are shaking your heads but I just didn't get it.  All I could see was Martha being chastised.

Until now.  I get it.  Finally.  Let me lay it out for you (disclaimer:  I'm not a scholar, just a woman trying to make sense of life).  Martha was doing what needed to be done and that's okay but sometimes there is a better choice.  Mary knew that the Savior wouldn't always be there to teach and she was soaking up the time she had, to sit at his feet and learn.

Sometimes I am so busy taking care of my family and doing the things that I want to do that I forget to savor the moments.  My children won't always be under my roof (cross your fingers) so shouldn't I take a few minutes here and there to listen to and enjoy them?  I love my husband, I like being around him and okay, I sorta lust after him but do I tell him that?  Not always.  I'm usually too busy keeping all the spinning plates going because heaven forbid I go to bed with dirty dishes in the sink or put my book down before I finish!

So there you go.  Finally after years of cringing when reading those verses or trying to pick a fight with the Marys of the world (mature, I know) I finally get it.  My family is the better part.  They come first.

I choose them.

Completely unrelated but equally stellar

One night the husband and I were getting ready for a night of fun.

We searched and searched but could not find Antiques Roadshow anywhere on our fancy television. 

I know, you're also shocked and dismayed.  The husband rapidly flipped through our 3 channels with no luck.  Finally we looked at the clock.

It was 5:30. 

In the PM.

Also known as late afternoon.

We had put our four children to bed slightly early, as in approximately an hour and a half to two hours early.  Go us!! 

Hey, in our defense it was already dark outside and the kids can't tell time (apparently we can't either) and obviously they were tired or I'm sure we would have heard from them... probably.

Moving on now.  Here's another awesome story for you.  My grandpa passed away a little while ago (he was very sick so it was definitely expected).  My dad called and asked me to let my siblings know.  It was getting to be late at night so rather than rudely calling my siblings and messing with their evening routine I thought I'd just send out a nice group text letting them know what was going on.  And yes, I know, my "tell people things in a thoughtful and tact way" gene is missing.  I'm looking into surgery.

I put my brother on the list, my sister, my mom and then, well things went awry.  My other brother had two contacts.  I wasn't sure which number to choose but because I'm super smart and not at all lazy I chose both.  I composed my little message and said, actually, let's move to conversation format.  Are you ready?

me (to the group):  Grandad passed away.  The funeral is on Saturday in Animas, burial in Virden.  Love you guys.

(few minutes pass....)

Adrian (my other brother):  who is this?

me (remember I'm not a grown up yet):  your alter ego

Adrian:  seriously who is this?

me:  someone who's way cooler than you

Adrian:  I am serious, you are starting to freak me out, who is this?  What happened to Grandad?

(okay, at this point I'm starting to think something is up...)

me:  it's Kristen, your favorite sister, I just wanted to let you know what was happening

"Adrian":  I don't know who you are but you obviously have the wrong number

me:  oh no!!!! (crap) I am so sorry!!  (why am I such an idiot) I don't know how to act like a grown up, (when will I ever not be so clueless) I am so sorry (I am a moron).  Your Grandad is okay (great, now I've freaked out some dude).  I thought you were my brother (crap).  I am very sorry (deleting contact...).

Let's review just a sampling of the ways I went wrong: 1- you never tell someone in a text that their loved one is no longer on Earth, 2- you don't insult people who are trying to figure out who you are and 3- delete old contacts.

I tell you these unfortunately true stories to make you, dear reader, feel better.  See, no matter how socially clueless or inept at parenting you may think you are, YOU'RE NOT!!

Love you guys!!