Friday, December 24, 2010

The Lady of the House is Another Year Older (by G)



Today is M's 34th Birthday even though she doesn't look it. I think I have a harder time waiting for it than she does. She usually doesn't like surprises unless it's presents, so I try to keep her guessing even though I have a hard time keeping it to myself. This year I told the boys that she wants two things for her birthday. The first is peace and the second is quiet. We'll do our best.

Her talents are:

- Hardworking
-Responsible
-Funny
-Great cook
-Smart
-Good friend
-Travel agent
-Pretty
-Organized
-Involved
-Kind, compassionate, and service oriented
-Teacher
-Religious

She likes:

-Reading
-Cooking and eating
-Going to the gym
-Hanging out with friends
-Traveling
-Crafts
-Music
-Shopping
-Me and the boys
-Adoption
-News
-Holidays

She dislikes:

-Messes
-Drama
-Broken bones
-Annoyance
-Germs
-Boogers
-Mass chaos

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

If You Ever Surprise Me Again, Do This


...That's what Buddy told me in line on one of the waterslides at the Great Wolf Lodge when we were there a few weekends ago.


We found out about a huge discount, so we and our good friends jumped on the opportunity to go.  We surprised the kids on Sambo's birthday.  They had no idea where we were going until we pulled into the parking lot.  And it did not disappoint!  I had heard so many people tell me how great it was, but honestly, I actually think the experience exceeded my expectations.  The best part was that the hotel, restaurants, and water park are made for kids, so we never had to tell the kids "calm down," "be quiet," "stop jumping/climbing/making a mess."  The kids could be kids for a change!

 Sambo and his best friend, Connor

Buddy loves to swim, so he was in heaven, the entire time.  He has no fear, so he was really disappointed that he wasn't tall enough for the biggest slide.  He definitely didn't inherit his fearlessness from me!  Sambo also had a lot of fun and was pretty fearless too.  We swam for a few hours the first day we were there, and most of the day the second day.


The hotel had plenty of other activities for the kids.  They had a story time in the evening.  All the kids came in their pajamas and then giant ceiling fans blew bubbles around the hotel lobby, to make it look like it was snowing!

That evening was also Sambo's birthday, so we had a small party in our room and the kids hung out and watched some cartoons. 

The only thing that would have made it better was if Shauna, Jesse, and their kids were there!  (Next time!?)  Can't wait to do it again!

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Trimming the Tree

We got a gorgeous tree this year.  Buddy and G braved the tree farm in heavy rains and Buddy picked it out.  They did a most excellent job choosing!  The boys, particularly Buddy, love decorating for holidays.  Buddy is very particular about how things get decorated, and I hate the act of decorating, so I let them take control of the tree.  They put things where they want, and while there are some sparse places (especially at the top), it looks great!  I love fresh trees and I love my kids, and I love listening to Christmas music, and I love all the handmade and other meaningful ornaments, so it was quite a joyful time watching them work. 

In case you are curious, G got sweaty bringing our tree in, so he took his shirt off to cool off.  Next thing you know, the boys had their shirts off too. (I kept mine on.)
As a sidenote, a few weeks ago, when we were still decorating for Halloween, Buddy asked me if when he moves out if he can take the Halloween and Christmas decorations with him.  I still feel sick to my stomach that he is already thinking about moving out (however, I was about his age when I started making plans, so it makes sense).  But still, it illustrates how much he loves decorating for the holidays. 

Friday, December 17, 2010

Status Updates

If I had facebook, my status update for today would be:

Tired (really tired) of getting up and doing the school routine.  Yay!  School's out for 17 days!

--OR--


What did moms do before Clorox wipes were invented?  Especially with boys who pee on the floor/wall every day, smear poop on the toilet seat, and splatter bloody noses all over the bathroom at 5am?  Clorox, I love you!

--OR--

Dopamine levels are right where they should be.  Got my laptop back today from being repaired.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Believing in Santa

Sam actually was excited this year to sit on Santa's lap too.  Three is the magical age when Santa becomes your friend!

We've thought for a few years now that Buddy would learn the truth about Santa young.  He's always seemed suspicious and has always asked a lot of questions about the jolly guy.  The best was a few years ago when he saw the items in his stocking and said, "Looks like Santa Claus shops at the Dollar Tree and Fred Meyer!"  He was 3 years old at the time.

So it surprises us that at age of 7 he believes more than ever.  Although just tonight he asked if Santa is really real... We've determined that all his questions have been to reassure himself that Santa is real and to paint a more elaborate story in his mind of the magic of Christmas.  With all this magic he's created, we think it'll be a good long time before he believes anything different.  We love it that way!

 The boys waiting for the rest of the kids to sit on Santa's lap so they could get their presents.

Case in point:  Last week was G's work Christmas party.  Every year Santa makes an appearance -- and brings gifts.  And this year Buddy was on pins and needles, asking every 30 seconds how many more minutes until he arrived.  Buddy was at a craft station adding glitter to a paper snowflake when he first heard the tinkling of Santa's bell as he came down the hall to the party.  As soon as he heard the bell, Buddy dropped his glitter and literally RAN to Santa.  He ended up the second child (of probably 50) in line to sit on Santa's lap. It was so classic Buddy and I was so glad to be standing right there to witness his innocence and his enthusiasm.

Hopefully he never stops believing.  

Monday, December 13, 2010

My Other Big Boy is 36!

Little G is officially in his "late 30's."  Speaking of growing up so fast!  It seems crazy to think we've been friends for 14 years.  He honestly has hardly changed: besides a few pounds, gray hairs, two degrees, and two kids.  He's almost exactly like he was when I first met him.  Let's see... I wonder if he'll still be listening to pop and/or punk music at 50?!  I wonder if he'll still be madly in love with ribs and snowboarding, loud concerts, and collecting friends?  Here's to lots more birthdays together!  Happy Birthday to my favorite person!

To keep with tradition this year:

Here are his talents:
  • Hardworker
  • Loyal
  • Great sense of humor
  • Amazing and involved father
  • Responsible
  • Easy to get along with.  I've decided that if you can't get along with him, it's your problem.  (I have to remind myself of that at times...)
  • Quick to forgive
  • Making brownies (I proved last night this is NOT one of my talents.)
  • Making clients happy
  • Playing with the kids
  • Back scratches
  • Patience
His Likes:
  • Skiing and snowboarding
  • Downloading and listening to music
  • Going to concerts
  • Going out to dinner
  • Ribs
  • Hamburgers
  • Sleeping in
  • Going on vacation
  • Our boys
  • Me
  • Reading
  • Movies
  • Shopping
His Dislikes:
  • Hanging Christmas lights (but he does it anyway)
  • Getting up early
  • Meetings
  • Squash
  • Cooking (although he's pretty good at it)
  • Dishes (but he does them almost every night)
  • Poop

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Growing Old Gracefully

A couple weeks ago Buddy was sitting next to me on the couch.  He looked over at me, pointed to my hair, and said, "Did you know they make hair dye for those?"
(True, I'm getting some grays.  But I told him I've been too busy planning birthday parties and Christmas to make a hair appointment.) 

Earlier this week Buddy informed me my tummy is getting fatter.
(It's true.)

And then a few days later he told me I look like a teenager, but I'm getting old.
(That's true too.)

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Love Days Like This

Last week Nicki, Christy and I made applesauce for the first time.  I absolutely love canning and I love apples, so it sounded like a recipe for a great afternoon.  We spent the entire day canning 100 pounds of aurora apples.  I grossly underestimated how fabulous the applesauce would taste.  It turned out so great!  And the best part?  A full day of fun conversation with wonderful friends.  We can hardly wait until next summer so we can fire up the gas burners and can something else!

Friday, December 10, 2010

This (Little*) Big Boy Turned THREE!

*We are no longer allowed to call him a "little" boy.

I hate it when my boys turn three.  Three is so grown up!  By age three, they think they can do anything "ALL MYSELF!"  Despite turning three, I have still been calling Sambo my baby, and pretending he's a baby, but he hates it.  And that makes the whole growing up thing even worse...

However, Sambo is just about as perfect as they come.  He's been easy from day one and athough in the past few weeks he's been testing limits and thinking he's old enough to do whatever he wants, he's still the easiest three-year old I've ever had, if you know what I mean.

He still follows Buddy around constantly but is starting to become more independent, which is both good and sad.  He idolizes his brother and probably always will. 

Here are his talents:
  • Being cute.  He is just so incredibly cute, sometimes we can't stand it.  He is just cute through and through.
  • Riding a scooter.  He can ride his razor scooter like nobody's business.  And if the weather was still warm, I'm convinced he would have learned to ride his bike without training wheels.  He is very coordinated and has excellent balance.  He was re-tested when he graduated from 'early intervention' and he scored 100% on gross and fine motor skills.  Meaning 0% of 3-year olds have his mad motor skills.  (To compare, he scored 4% on speech articulation, meaning 96% of 3-year olds pronounce words better than he does.)
  • Coloring.  He loves to color and draw.  His only problem is his pathetic teacher/mother is CLUELESS about arts and crafts.  It's a horrible shame, actually.  
  • Being a good boy.  He doesn't throw tantrums and generally listens and obeys really well.  He follows directions and wants to please everyone.
  • Being happy.  He is super easy to please and finds joy in the simple things in life.
  • Cuddling.
  • Loving deeply.  He loves, and I mean LOVES his family and friends. 
His Likes:
  • Legos
  • Candy
  • His Brother
  • Connor
  • Dogs and cats.  (He requested a "cat" birthday party, which I thought was pretty funny.)
  • Playing outside
  • Riding his bike and scooter
  • Coloring
  • Watching movies with Buddy
  • Playing games
  • Helping
  • Doing whatever his brother is doing
  • Eating snacks
  • His new speech class
  • Sports
  • Cars and trucks
  • Pizza
His Dislikes:
  • Being treated like a baby
  • Applesauce
  • Taking naps
  • Being fed, dressed, or put in his carseat

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Took My Breath Away

My normal radio stations were making my headache worse this morning, so I flipped over to the country station.  The song caught my attention, so I listened to the whole thing.  A google search just now taught me that it's called "Take Your Breath Away" by George Strait. 

I've heard the quote, "Life isn't measured by the breaths you take but by the things that take your breath away," but I've never given it much thought. 

Although corny, the song reminded me of that quote, and really made me think.  The thought came to me that we often remember our lives as a series of events.  But it's the way those events affect us that makes us who we are.  So when I heard the song this morning I determined to start taking notice of things in my boring old life that do take my breath away.  I'll write some of them here, as a way to be grateful for some of the simple and awesome things that happen all the time.  But otherwise would go unrecognized or even forgotten.  I encourage you to do the same on your blog or the comments here. 

To start, yesterday:  I was volunteering in Buddy's class at school while a professional artist gave the kids a lesson in drawing and the techniques of painting with watercolors.  The artist showed the kids some slides of art and colors and asked them all sorts of questions to get their creative juices flowing.  There is one boy in Buddy's class that is, in my opinion, a little socially awkward.  He lives down the road from us, so Buddy made friends with him on the bus and now they sit together on the bus, eat lunch together, and he's been to our house a few times.  He's not an outcast or anything, but not the typical outgoing person that Buddy is normally attracted to, yet for whatever reason (and I've asked myself 100 times why), he has became one of Buddy's closest friends this year.  Anyway, that boy raised his hand and answered one of the artists questions.  Immediately, I noticed Buddy try to make eye contact with the friend from across the room.  Then... I saw Buddy give him a thumbs up.  I hope to never forgot what it means to be a good friend.

Today:  Sambo started a speech class at the early special education offices.  He got all ready for "school," put his backpack on, and told me all the way over to the school that he didn't want me to go in with him.  He wanted me to leave him there so he could be a big boy -- and I did.  He was so cute I could hardly stand it.  And although he won't be three years old until Sunday, he grew up today.

Today:  I was reading a blog post today from one of my favorite bloggers.  She was writing about disciplining her 6-year old triplets and mentioned a comment she received on her blog four years ago, when her triplets were two.  "Shame on you for not possessing the same control you expect of your children."  This comment didn't just take my breath away, but sucked all my air right out of my body.  I am going to use this comment as a guidepost for my parenting.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Monster Bash

Buddy is really into monsters, and absolutely loves all things Halloween, so we hosted eight of Buddy's monster-friends for his 7th birthday party. 

We started with a monster craft.

Then we played freeze dance to some "spooky" music.  Freeze dance quickly turned into a 10-kid dog pile.





Then we had the kids put their hand in bowls of "blood and guts," "monster fingernails," "scabs," "eyeballs," "intestines," and "monster fingers." It was hysterical how some of the boys were so afraid they would hardly participate.  A few boys thought the activity was dumb and then there were a few (like Buddy) who are so imaginative that they really hoped that those were really were monster fingers. 

Next, the boys wrapped each other with toilet paper like mummies.  We were so impressed with how well the boys did at this activity.  And how much they loved it!





We finished the party with monster cupcakes and presents. 


That evening we went to Famous Daves so Buddy could get himself some ribs (his favorite), and we ended at Sonic for slushes.  Then on Sunday we had a family party with Buddy's second favorite: whole-wheat waffles with strawberries, chocolate chips and syrup along with blueberry muffins and eggs, and then caramel apples for dessert.  We had a great weekend.  We are so happy Buddy gave us a reason to celebrate -- and eat excellent food!

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Lucky Number Seven!

Buddy turned 7 on Sunday!  I will post later about the weekend's festivities, but first I wanted to highlight what an amazing boy he is.

His likes:
  • Playing outside
  • Playing with friends
  • Reading
  • Going to school
  • Harry Potter
  • Monsters
  • Animals and birds
  • Going out to dinner
  • Swimming
  • Rocks and minerals
  • Getting presents
  • His family

    His Dislikes:
    • Tomatoes
    • Satan
    • Going to bed
    • Public speaking
    • Contention or competition
    (I asked him his likes and dislikes and a few of the above answers are from his own comments.  Can you decide which are from him and which are from me?)

    His Talents:
    • He is a peacemaker.  He can't stand contention and never picks fights, fights back, or reacts in anger.
    • He can sure argue, though.  He generally thinks he's right and his way is best.  He is very articulate and uses that to his advantage.  The longer we spend with him the more we realize, more often than not, he is right. It's infuriating, actually. 
    • He treats his brother like gold.  I have hardly met anyone as patient as he is.  I keep waiting for the day when he gets tired of giving in, sharing, having his stuff ruined, or being copied -- but I doubt the day will come.  He sincerely likes having Sambo around.
    • He is so smart, it's starting to worry me.  He's on the verge of being smarter than me and that is NOT good.  He loves science and loves to read.  Math at school is really fun, so he's starting to like that a lot too.  He's not very creative in his writing yet at school, but he's working on it and in all the practicing he's been doing, he's developing excellent spelling and punctuation. 
    • He is friendly and loves his friends.  He makes new friends wherever he goes, particularly with boys his age, boys older than him, and babies. 
    • He is confident in his faith.  And speaking of faith, his faith is enormous.  He wrote a book at school about the things he is most thankful for.  To summarize, he's thankful for his parents, his brother, himself because he's a "son of God" and for God himself.  He has started reading the Book of Mormon and his insights make me think for days.  G and I have had our best gospel discussions from our entire marriage in the last few weeks discussing the things he's brought up.
    • He can talk people into just about anything.  He comes home from school with trinkets and presents from different people every day. And he's been known to come home from a neighbor's house with new (to him) shoes, toys, candy, ice cream, you name it.  There's been a steady stream of neighborhood kids in our backyard for the past six months putting slugs/frogs/snakes/salamanders/mole carcasses in his animal cages.  Everyone knows that if they find a cool bug or animal (or set of bones) they should come put them in our backyard.  (Much to my dismay.)
    • He is still full of energy and life. He runs everywhere and climbs on everything.  He makes messes wherever he goes. 
    • He is funny and clever.
    • He is a hardworker. 
    • He is a great leader and a good example. 
    • He is spontaneous.  This is often a problem at school or when it's time to calm down and focus, but it's a huge part of his personality.  Therefore, we're trying to find a good reason for this "talent."
    • He loves and respects nature.
    • He has developed a very tender and cuddly part of his personality.  He was not cuddly as a baby or toddler, so we have loved this new development. 
    G and I love him so very much.  We asked each other last night if there is a more loved child on this earth.  It's really interesting because he struggles to realize just how many people love him.  It's so frustrating considering the huge amount of love me, G, and Sambo have for him, our extended family, his birth family, Sambo's birth family, and his huge circle of friends.  He is loved, that's for sure.

    Monday, November 15, 2010

    A Few Weird Things

    Today was exhausting.  Not bad in any way, but I'm bone tired.  And the rest of the week isn't looking any less tiring. 

    Here's a few weird things that have been happening around here lately. 

    • Both boys have birthdays withing the next few days.  Sambo (the littler one) thinks he's turning 7 because Buddy is.  I'm sure this is normal with a younger sibling, but I think it's hilarious.  He had to have a speech evaluation the other day and one of the questions was to see if he knew his age.  He said he was 7 and will not be convinced otherwise.
    • Buddy added "baby sister" to his Christmas list.  We've talked about adopting in generalizations because the last thing he needs is more pressure in his life.  Plus he has no concept of time and the wait will be long.  However, when he added a sister to his list, I talked to him a little more about it so he's clear that we are actively hoping to adopt.  I feel better that he knows and I don't have to talk in generalizations any more.  I hope his faith helps it happen.  I'm sure it will.
    • Everyone in this family is bossy beyond belief.  Either this is a requirement for being one of us, or it's learned.  I can't decide which is most true.  Anyway, we babysat a 1-year old baby the other night and my boys both thought they were in charge of the baby.  Sambo kept telling her to "be quiet." And when she cried, Buddy spent the entire time trying to get her to stop.  It was equally cute and disturbing.
    • After babysitting the baby I asked my boys if they are ready for a baby sister.  Sambo said "yes."  Buddy sighed and said, "No.  It's going to be so much work and I already have so many things to do."  I found that incredibly funny.  (Refer previous comment about bossiness.)
    • Today Buddy was looking through some toy ads, circling what he wants for Christmas (although I'm almost done shopping).  He informed me he was circling some DS games.  He doesn't have a DS and isn't getting a DS, so I thought that was pretty interesting.  He also informed me he was circling a few games that are for older kids, "But who cares.  Nobody pays attention to those labels anyway."  !!!!!!  Who taught him about game ratings?  He doesn't play video games, so how would he know anything about them?  And if he's talking to his friends enough about video games to learn about the rating system, why is he not more interested in playing them?  It's all good.  I'm glad he doesn't play them.
    • I wanted to go to the gym tonight and planned to meet G there at 5:30.  That's like the worst possible time of day to be driving around town, so I left super early -- which involved hurrying like a crazy woman all afternoon to get to the three stores I needed to go to, put away groceries, get homework done, and make dinner.  While I was changing into my gym clothes, I put Buddy in charge of making sure Sambo got his shoes on, coat on, and got buckled in the car.  When I got downstairs, I was overjoyed to see the boys both sitting in the car, all buckled in, and waiting patiently.  So off we went.  We rolled into the parking lot just in time to meet G.  However, when I got out of the car, I realized Sambo wasn't wearing any shoes.  Back home we went, arriving 50 minutes after we left.  No workout done.  And a colossal waste of time.  I was mildly annoyed with Buddy for forgetting Sambo's shoes, until I remembered that he's not quite 7 years old, and although he thinks he's in charge, he's not.  I am, and I need to remember to check things like that before we leave the house.  Note to self.
    • We've been in denial about Sambo growing up and turning 3 in a few weeks.  Like major denial.  We still call him our baby and assume he's clueless and helpless (which he's not).  I realized last week that I've been putting him in shoes two sizes too small and he actually fits better in size 3T clothes, rather than the 2T outfits I've been dressing him in.  When did he get so big?????!!!!!!  This is so sad.  I hate it when my kids grow up and I'm taking him turning 3 really, really hard. 
    • G took Buddy into a dressing room with him last week to try on a shirt.  Buddy told him he liked the shirt, if he was trying to dress up like a cub scout leader. 
    • Buddy hasn't lost any teeth and doesn't even have any even close to being loose.  As of his last dentist appointment in July, he's not even close.  He's really sad about this news, but we are so thrilled!  He's so cute with his baby teeth (and remember?  we're in denial about our kids growing up).  He is, however, finally sprouting two of his 6-year molars, just in time to turn 7 this week.  He says he can't feel anything, but they are really swollen and red.
    • Buddy's fingernails were getting long so last night G started teasing him that maybe we should paint them like a girl.  Buddy had no problem with that, and suggested we paint them black, like Ethan in his school class.  (Ethan was a ninja for Halloween and painted his nails black.)  I'm not sure what disturbed me more.  The fact that Buddy was willing to paint his nails, the fact that Buddy wanted to paint them black, or the "since when do we follow every whim and trend" lecture that came out of G's mouth.
    • Sambo and Buddy can finally carry on a conversation and we are so happy on so many levels.  We've only been waiting for 6-7 loooong years for this day to come.  Buddy has had diarrhea of the mouth since he was a year old and he's been in desperate need of someone to talk to other than me.
    • Have I mentioned I have never EVER clipped my kids' nails?  I have no interest, so I just don't.  Now that Shauna has moved, I'm not sure how G is going to keep up on that task.  Oh wait, he's not keeping up. 
    • Sambo has been potty-trained for a couple months now.  It was brutal getting him motivated, but once we figured out his "currency," we haven't looked back.  He's been a pro and has had very few accidents, and hasn't had any for about six weeks. Does that mean we're out of the woods?  He's mostly dry at night and takes himself when he has to go.  It's been amazing.  So what was his "currency?"  Well, currency!  I had tried literally everything to motivate him and one day he said he wanted money.  So, that's what I gave him.  He'd get "money" (a penny) for pee and "big money" (a nickel, dime, or quarter) for poop.  That's all it took. 
    • We saw a group of three little girls, approximately Buddy's age at Burger King the other day.  I asked him which one was prettiest (does that make me an awful parent???) because I'm curious about his taste and I'm curious at what age boys can tell a truly "pretty" girl.  One of the girls fit the "pretty and feminine girl" mold with long blond hair, a sparkly headband, and a ruffly shirt.  She was very cute, I have to admit.  Sure enough, he got super embarrassed concerning that girl and was un-phased by the other two.  I found the entire conversation fascinating.
    • Every time G goes to Costco, he forgets to get half the list.  I'm not criticizing, I'm just making an observation.  (I haven't forgotten I'm the one that took Sambo to the gym without shoes...)  It's the craziest thing.  I think he gets distracted by the samples.  I guess I should be glad he happily goes to Costco.  Wait!  Typing this out just gave me some new insight.  All of a sudden I just realized that he enjoys shopping so much at Costco he purposely forgets half the list, so he can go back a few days later.  Do you think?

    Sunday, November 14, 2010

    That was AWESOME


    To answer your question, YES, I do plan to blog every time I go to a Brandon Flowers/Killers concert.

    We went to our third last night and when it ended I was seriously sad.  It was SOOOOO good.  Before it started I had to make my peace with the fact that Brandon Flowers is solo at the moment and we wouldn't be watching a Killers concert.  I knew the show would be good, but nothing can compare with the type of show the Killers put on.  Brandon is such a showman and together with the band and the lights and the keyboard... it's all really exciting.  I had to come to grips with the fact that this was smaller and it wouldn't be as showy.  Luckily, he did do "Mr. Brightside" during the encore, which was excellent.  The rest of the show was so good too, although not quite as good as the last we went to.

    A few other observations.  Brandon always wears the goofiest outfits.  He had his feathered jacket last tour.  We watched him on Jimmy Kimmel to promote his solo album and he wore the strangest 90's tapered pants and a Navajo vest.  We were hoping he'd wear that because it was so odd/cool.  But, he opted for suspenders and high-waisted tapered jeans last night.  It's definitely been awhile since I've seen anyone in their 20's wear suspenders.


    G really likes the venue we went to last night and I have to agree.  We had to sit upstairs in the bar, so I could sit (with my bum foot and all).  I had a perfect view of the stage, although G's seat wasn't as good as mine.  To be completley honest, I'm too old and too lame to enjoy being in the middle of the chaos on the floor, though, so my bum foot really actually came in handy.  G LOVES to be in the middle of the chaos.  (This is one of the few differences in personality/interests we have.  That and his love of snow sports.)

    Anyway, I noticed that we were the youngest folks in the seating area.  And we aren't exactly young.  I didn't realize that Brandon Flowers draws such an old fan base.  There were a lot of people in the 40's and even 50's around us.  I'm sure the young whippersnappers were down on the floor, but sheesh, it's not like this was an Elton John concert.

    Oh, and the other thing that was really odd was how many people were there stag.  The lady sitting next to me was alone.  And the guy in front of me was alone.  And then there were two people across from us alone.  I thought it would be cool to hook them all up, but they all seemed totally fine being alone.  So we left them that way.  Who goes to concerts alone?????  Apparenlty quite a few people.

    We love that all restaurants/bars/concert venues are smoke-free in Portland.  SO NICE.

    So, until next time. 

    Friday, November 12, 2010

    Reason #8762 Why We Love Open Adoptions

    I suggested Buddy write a thank-you note to his birthmom for some gifts she gave him for his upcoming birthday.  This is what he came up with 100% on his own.  I love this.  But I can guarantee that this will make her day/life.

    Front cover of the card.  She didn't really give him "diamonds" but her husband, Dan, gave him some big plastic jewels that are admittedly AWESOME.  Purchased from a gas station, of all places.

    Back cover of the card.

    Inside the card.
    (click to enlarge)

    Tuesday, November 9, 2010

    National Adoption Month

    It's National Adoption Month!  To celebrate, G and I went to Seattle to an adoption conference this past weekend.  I might write more on that later because it was excellent!

    We also finally made story books with pictures to tell our boys their adoption stories.  They turned out fantastic and each boy will get theirs for their birthdays coming up in a few weeks.  Buddy especially will love his.  He is very interested in his birth and adoption story and loves looking at old pictures, so he'll really appreciate it.  We can hardly wait to give it to him.

    I just read my sister's second baby's birth story this morning, which was really cool and well-written, by the way.  But anyway, she had a phrase in there I'd never heard before and describes infertility and the adoption process better than I've ever heard before.  Pretty amazing considering all the reading and discussing and thinking I've done on the topic.  And to think what I feel was summed up by a woman who just gave birth.  Now if that's not ironic. 

    "I felt empty, physically.  I felt full, emotionally." 

    That's what it feels like to go through the adoption process.  The process is so incredibly frustrating and hard.  Adoption doesn't cure infertility, although counselors suggest you make some peace with it before you start the adoption process.  But with all the ups and downs of the adoption process, infertility still manages to rear it's ugly head it seems on a regular basis.  Although we're in the valley of this third adoption process -- with nothing good happening -- I am so thankful for this gift.  I love being part of the adoption community.  I love having deep friendships with birth families.  I love getting to know women with unplanned pregnancies.  I love talking with adoptive families and adoptees.

    But mostly I love my boys and the idea of a third little one coming to our family someday.

    Where so much has been taken away, I've been given way more.   And that makes me feel full, emotionally.

    My adoption network + my boys + the hope of a third child - pregnancy = a very full heart.

    Sunday, November 7, 2010

    Road Trip (by G)

    When I was a freshman at BYU, I met Marc in the dorms, who became one of my best friends. Music, among other things, brought us together. I introduced him to bands like Pavement and he introduced me to other bands including the Pixies. We would hang out all the time and go to shows and other activities. We even married girls who were roommates.

    Fast-forward 17 years. We've both graduated with graduated degrees, have kids, work in professional fields and are older and slower than we'd care to admit. Just before Father's Day, Marc's wife, Whitney, contacted me and asked if I would be interested in seeing the Pixies with Marc in Las Vegas. I thought it was one of the greatest ideas I'd ever heard and begged M to let me go. After M agreed, plane tickets and concert tickets were purchased, a hotel was booked, and plans were made for a road trip.

    On September 24th, I flew into Salt Lake City and at 9:00am the next morning, Marc picked me up and we were on our way to Las Vegas. We had a lot of catching up to do. We stopped and had chicken fried steak at a little cafe in Beaver, UT on the way. We rolled in to Vegas in the afternoon, checked into the hotel and then took the shuttle to the strip. After walking around for a while and taking in the sights we had dinner at BLT Burger in the Mirage. BLT Burger is only in a few locations. When M and I were in NYC, we had to decide between BLT Burger and Stand and we chose Stand, so naturally I was really excited to eat at BLT Burger. The food was excellent and I even had a twinkie milkshake for desert (it sounds kinda gross, but it was awesome). After we went back to the hotel, changed, and headed over to the Hard Rock Hotel for the show.





    The opening band was pretty lame, but when the Pixies went on, they rocked it. We were in the back for the beginning, but once the the Pixies went on, we had to move to the front. We were probably 5 rows from the front of the stage, so we had a really good view. The show totally rocked and the Pixies sounded great. After the show, we stood in line to get a CD of the live show we'd just seen.



    After the show we headed back down to the strip for a while, stopped for a midnight snack and finally rolled back into the hotel around 2:00am. We slept in the next morning and headed back to Utah. It goes without saying that our road trip was a huge success and for a little while, we felt like we were back in college again. A big thanks to Whitney and M for letting us do it.

    Tuesday, October 26, 2010

    Happy Place

    Today was a really strange day.  I had to go to my "happy place" four times, and I'm still feeling all out of sorts about it how the day played out.

    1.  During physical therapy the therapist took a metal device and scraped my foot all over the place.  Up until today I wasn't totally clear about all my injuries (and I'm actually still a little confused).  It turns out I've got a few fractures in most of my metatarsils and surrounding joints, as well as a few torn liaments, including a really strange "lateral" tear on the side of my foot.  I thought I had six fractures, but I've actually got fractures in six areas.  The therapist said there are actually too many to count.  So when he rubbed around with that metal torture device, it scraped all on sorts of sore areas.  I was too busy in my happy place to ask what in the world he was doing but I'll be sure to do that next time.  By the way, I had a bone scan yesterday and I've got the beginnings of osteopenia, which puts me at risk of osteoporosis, which is no big surprise considering the number of low-impact injuries I sustained.  What's really lame is that I'm young still, so it's not good news really, but it's not horrible news either.  I really think this all relates to my infertility.  So insufficient hormones are the gift that keep on giving.  Who knows really because I also have low vitamin D, and can't stand most dairy products.  Plus being a Caucasian women with a family history of osteoporosis.  I've learned more about osteoporosis in the past two days than I ever cared to know, that's for sure.

    2.  Then my physical therapist tried to put one of my joints back into place by whipping my leg in a forceful way.  It sort of felt good but it actually really hurt.  Then right after, he strapped a block of ice with velcro all around my foot.  It hurt so bad, I seriously wondered if it was worse than natural childbirth.  (Just kidding Myndi and Tahsha!)  Luckily my foot went numb after five minutes.  The one good thing that happened was getting to dip my foot in hot paraffin wax.  It was heaven in the midst of an otherwise really sucky visit.  I asked him if he'd like to give me a pedicure while he was at it, since I REALLY need one but don't trust anyone else to do it with the tenderness of my foot and all.  But that was before the torture device and ice episodes, so now I don't trust him either.  Not to worry, he wasn't amused by my pedicure request anyway.

    3.  Then I decided to go to the gym for the first time in almost 11 weeks.  I can only ride a bike, do a rowing machine, or lift upper body weights, so I settled on a few weights and a 30 minute bike ride.  I can not believe how out of shape I've gotten.  I was exhausted after about 10 minutes of the bike ride, but I managed to finish.  Wowsers that sucked.  And here's what's really lame.  I got on a scale for the first time since the injury and was surprised to see I haven't gained a single pound.  Clearly I've lost muscle and gained fat, but honestly, if I was working out that hard before... and now I'm not... and my body really hasn't changed that much... why in tarnation am I torturing myself at the gym?  I mean, yeah-I feel better when I work out.  But seriously I'm thinking it's just not worth the effort!  If I had cottage cheese and a muffin top before, and I have one now, conventional wisdom would tell me it's just not worth the trouble.  Except now with this osteopenia problem, weights are a requirement to keep my bones as strong as possible.  What do you think?  I was doing weights religiously before the injury and it didn't seem to help. 

    4.  A couple days ago we finally got around to ordering some books my sister recommended to teach Buddy about the birds and the bees.  They arrived today and G and I about died of embarrassment reading through them.  The first one is supposedly for children ages 4 and older.  But oh.my.gosh.  I think I will be removing the page with the mom and dad in bed, with a detailed description of how babies are made.  Myndi-are you sure this is OK?????!!!!!!!  We are freaking out here because Buddy is super curious and has already learned a few things from friends so we need to be clear with him.  But oh mercy, he just seems so incredibly young.  And I just feel so incredibly foolish opening up such a big can of worms.  Not to mention the awkwardness!!!!  Could someone please talk me off a cliff here?!

    Friday, October 22, 2010

    One This Day

    I was talking to my sister the other day about her new life as a mother of two.  Her oldest is quite a handful, and I say that in the most loving way.  You see, my oldest was quite a handful too, so I sympathize.  Except her situation is harder.  After all, I didn't move my "handful" across the country, or have a baby when he was two-and a half years old.  Bless my sister's heart.  No really, she needs blessings. 

    Anyway, I was looking at old pictures for a project I am working on.  I was curious to see what Buddy looked like at the age Sambo is right now -- on the verge of turning three.  Sambo is soooooooooo much easier (and smaller) than Buddy was at this age, it's just unreal. So I scrolled through my pictures looking for Buddy on October 22, 2006. 

    And this is what I found.  Doesn't he just look like a little punk?  Cutest little punkface I've ever seen, though.  And it was fortunate he was cute because I doubt he would have survived the stage he was in at the time of this picture, if it weren't for that precious face. 

    Things do get better, Myndi.

    Monday, October 18, 2010

    Six Bad and One Good Part of the Day

    Bad:
    1. G is putting in another long day at the office.  Don't worry, it's not getting old or anything.  And to think it's only Monday.
    2. Me, Sambo, and Buddy are all feeling a little under the weather.  None of us are on death's doorstep or anything, just sick enough to feel... not good.
    3. Tonight at practice a kid told Buddy he is the worst soccer player on the team.  Buddy believed him, and since he really isn't very good, we had to have yet another talk about talents.  We talk about this almost every day lately.  The real interesting thing is, he actually played pretty well at practice today.  Go figure.  
    4. Buddy now knows that I don't really have magic eyes.  He's been suspicious for a few months, but he confronted me point blank tonight.  Luckily, he's had excellent behavior lately so I haven't needed my magic eyes anyway.
    5. I forgot Buddy had school today.  Like, for reals.  Forgot.  G  left really early, and I heard Buddy get up.  I was in and out of sleep for the next 30 minutes, all the while thinking how glad I was that he didn't have school today.  Finally around 7:45 I heard Sambo get up and go play with Buddy.  At that point I thought to myself how annoying it was that I couldn't sleep later, since I didn't have any reason to get up.  At 8:02 Buddy came into my room and asked if he had school, since if he did, he was now late.  I told him he didn't.  He then asked what day it was, since yesterday was Sunday.  And that's when the panic hit.  Crap!  We hurried fast and he ended up being 17 minutes late for school.  There is nothing more humbling than taking him to the office to get his tardy slip wearing my pajams, no bra, attrocious hair, while carrying Sambo who was also in his pj's and was  not wearing a coat or shoes.  Nice.  What's so weird about all of this is that last night I made the consious choice to NOT set me alarm, seeing as we "didn't have school today."  (In my defense, he's had 4.5 of the last 10 weekdays off school for one thing or another.)  The really awesome part?  It's only October, so this will most likely happen again at some point this year.  
    6. We got some more bad adoption news tonight.  If I didn't have perfection sleeping upstairs, I'd be tempted to lose my faith in the process.  But it works, and I know that.  And I thank God every day for my boys' birthmoms -- that they had the courage to choose adoption.  
    Good:
    1. Buddy likes to practice for when it's his turn to be the "Sensational Student" at school.  He gets nervous about being on the spot like that, but he's really excited for it to be his turn to show his class a few items that represent him.  Apparently after school today he packed a bag full of new items because when it came time to read his scriptures before bed, he had to rummage through a sack to find his Book of Mormon.  I asked why it was in the sack and he said, "When I'm the Sensational Student I'm going to show them my Book of Mormon to tell them that I believe in Jesus.  I don't care if some kids don't -- because I do." If you knew how self consious he is about most things, you'd realize how significant that is. 

    Sunday, October 10, 2010

    Weekend in Review

    The kids are now in bed.  And we're winding down from an excellent weekend.

    Highlights:
    • When G suggested we pool our resources and fly my sister and her family (including their baby due to arrive any day!) here for Christmas.
    • All the help G gave me this weekend.  Hanging Halloween decorations, which pleased Buddy beyond belief.  Mowing and fertilizing the lawn.  Taking me to the grocery store.  Cleaning the house 5 times.  Vacuuming.  Helping with dinner.  Wrangling children.
    • When G took me to Craft Warehouse, Dollar Tree, and Joann Fabric because he needed to get out of the house.  The only places I was willing to go were those husband/kid un-friendly places.
    • Picking out our pumpkins.
    • Going to Burgerville.  I learned they have sanitizer.  And they have a recylcing bin.  I LOVE recycling AND sanitizer!!!!!  I didn't think it was possible to love Burgerville any more, but I do now. 
    • When Sambo told us on the way to Burgerville that he needed to go poop.  That was the first time he's ever flat-out told us.
    • Staying up late and sleeping in a little. 
    • Taking a nap on Saturday.
    • Relief Society today.  And typically I'm not a huge fan of Relief Society, so that's saying something.
    • When Sambo surprised us by answering this question during FHE tonight:  "When do you feel the spirit, Sambo?"  He thought for a second and said, "Listen to Jesus." 
    • Getting this little project finished.  I bought a very low-quality white particle board cabinet off Criagslist.  We gave it a little elbow grease, spray painted it, and updated the hardware.  Looks pretty good doesn't it?  It's now the home for all of our boys' craft supplies.  I love it!  I saw something similar a couple weeks but couldn't stomach the $200 price tag.  Cabinet plus supplies cost around $40.

    Lowlights:
    • When Sambo told us on the way to Burgerville that he needed to go poop.  I hate public restrooms.
    • When Sambo learned to use the word "hate" and now says it in every other sentence.  According to the last 15 minutes, he apparently strongly hates going to bed.
    • When G found out on Friday afternoon that he's got a case that is indeed going to trial in a few weeks.  Which is why I enjoyed having him around so much this weekend. 

    Wednesday, October 6, 2010

    Charity

    I've been trying for a few days to think of something noteworthy to blog about but alas, I have had nothing.  It's not really writer's block that's the problem, but a true case of "nothing is going on!"  I've literally been doing nothing these past few weeks.  I've looked at blogs, watched some TV, spray painted a small cabinet, colored with Sambo, read to the boys, and generally just sat around thinking about my life.  Sounds like a dream come true, right?  Not quite.  There have been a few projects I could be doing from the couch, but haven't.  There are books I could be reading, but haven't.  There are TV shows to get caught up on, but that hasn't happened either. 

    You see, sitting around hoping my foot will heal has been incredibly awkward.  Although I regularly wish for a "day off," this is not quite what I imagined. 

    Anyway, as I've given all this some serious thought, I've learned a few things.  And you want to know something odd?  I swear I've never been so full of pure joy.  I started taking Vitamin D, so maybe that's helping.  I re-prioritized my life, so maybe that's helping too.

    Here's what I think is really happening -- and I have a feeling my comments will surprise you.  As mentioned, I am extremely uncomfortable not doing anything productive.  Plus, I'm extremely uncomfortable with people giving me service.  I'd rather run around nude than have to rely on others to do my business.  (Which is saying something because I'd NEVER willingly run around nude in public.) 

    Those things combined, and now you've got several of my insecurities and anxieties in overdrive. 

    OK.  So anxious to the max generally does not equal pure joy.  However, as I've sat here, more and more people have come to help.  It's been mind-blowing to see the sorts of friends that have helped with meals, rides, playdates, treats, concern, visits.  And then the number of hours my mom and G's parents have given to clean the house, yard, garage, and new shed.  Way too many hours to count.  You'd be shocked if you knew how much they've done around this house.  And I've been shocked to see how generously people serve.

    Yesterday our ward did a "compassionate service day".  Our ward has numerous needs -- some of which are very serious, so everyone was asked to carefully consider how they could help someone in need that day.  I tried hard to think of something I could do at home.  Although the possibilities are endless, I felt an overwhelming feeling that I shouldn't do anything besides play with Sambo.  One friend even asked if I'd help her with her service project.  After giving it a week of thought/feeling extremely guilty, I turned her down, telling her I needed to continue focusing on myself.  Then I stewed about being so selfish for days.  Turning someone down is so not my old norm, but oh, I'm learning, and I am learning to to loooove it. 

    Yesterday arrived.  I finally got around to watching the wonderful talk by President Monson about judging.  I thought deeply about that and determined to apply it to my life.  Then I showered, put my PJ's back on, and got out the playdough.  The "service day" was far from my mind.  Soon a knock came.  It was my mom, coming to help, un-announced.  I'm sure she didn't call first because she knew I'd tell her not to come.  After all, G's parents had left the day before and had cleaned the entire house top to bottom before they left.  So my mom got to work outside. 

    Within minutes, another knock.  This time a lady in the ward, Jo.  We served in YW together a few years ago, but really haven't talked much since.  Such an unlikely visitor!  She's twice my age, so we have different circles of friends, but I've always really loved her.  She arrived with presents and lots of treats and told me she had seen me at church on crutches, and was interested in coming to help with housework.  I informed her that my house was clean and my mom and shown up 2 minutes before... so believe it or not, I didn't have any work for her!  (I was relieved because I would have been mortified to have her clean my house!)  Instead she made playdough creatures for Sambo and we talked.  To say it was wonderful would be a huge understatement.  She told stories that I needed to hear.  She cared and listened and then I remembered why I've always loved her. 

    And then I went outside to see my mom had cleaned up the entire backyard! 

    It wasn't until that night that it occurred to me that Jo had come because it was "compassionate service day."  It boggles my mind to think that of all the needs in the ward, she chose me.  We've got a child with cancer, families split by divorce, elderly, single moms, a death this week, lots of unemployment, depression, overworked moms and dads, too many new babies to count, sick pregnant women, people recovering from surgery, and then there's me and my gimpy foot.  At least that's the obvious "problem" I have. 

    I'm not trying to brag about the wonderful parents, siblings, and friends I have.  Please don't take it that way.  I'm simply trying to convey how magical it is to be on the receiving end of charity.  It is so awkward for me.  Yet the refining that is happening within me has been profound.  Whatever end of charity you are on, embrace it.  I am learning that there is a time and a season for giving and receiving.  If it's your turn to give, then give with all your heart and listen carefully for the impressions that come about who needs your help and your friendship.  And if it's your turn to receive, enjoy it.  Not just because it's nice to be the recipient of clean bathrooms or a wonderful meal, but because it's so nice to feel the effects of the humility, graciousness, and knowledge that God knows you and knows all your problems -- that inevitably comes when being served.

    Sunday, September 26, 2010

    Another Day Another Dollar

    Buddy starting the "Fun Run" at school on Friday.  He did 8 laps in 20 minutes.  He claimed he "wasn't even tired" at the end. 


    When I was a kid my mom would make us "job lists" every day during the summer and any other time we seemed bored.  We were expected to complete everything on the lists -- no ifs, ands, or buts about it.  The lists were always long and we had to complete the tasks to my mom's standards, which were extremely high.  I always got assigned the crappy jobs, like cleaning the bathroom because I did such a good job.  To this day I still hate cleaning the bathrooms.  And if there was no work to be done (because our house was small and it was always clean), then she invented tasks like picking up lint and debris off the carpet or re-folding the kitchen towels.  We picked berries for money when we were very young.  We babysat.  My brother had a paper route.  And then when we were legal, we all got real jobs.  We probably complained about all of this at the time, but of all the things my parents did right, this was among the top of the list, in my opinion. 

    Working hard was a requirement at my house, and I will be forever grateful for that high standard my parents set.  I don't remember how my parents did it.  I don't remember being threatened, bribed, or even rewarded.  It was just expected we pull our weight in our home.  As a result, all three of us kids are hard workers and we all married hard workers.  In fact, now that I really stop and think about it, I'd dare say that I'm probably the laziest of the bunch.  And I'd hardly classify myself as lazy. 

    My mom is the biggest workhorse I know.  She's always, and I mean always, up to something.  She accomplishes more in a day than most people in a week.  Case in point:  a couple weeks ago she watched my kids for about 4 hours so I could get ready for my daddy/daughter barn activity.  My week had been busy getting ready for the activity, plus I had been nursing my broken foot.  So my house was a disaster.  When I got home all my floors were vacuumed and mopped, the house was clean, the kids' rooms were clean, the sheets on the beds were clean and back on the beds, lunch had been made and cleaned up, they had done a food craft (a cute caterpillar out of fruity pebbles) and cleaned it up, she had read to the kids, and played a game with the kids.  All that (plus more, I'm sure) in 4 short hours.  And the kids were happy.  I was even more happy.  Thanks again, mom!!!!!  That's just one example.  I could go on and on about all the work my mom does each day, most of which is for other people.

    My dad is a hardworker too.  He taught us the value of a dollar, the value of education and that money comes from hard work.  He has always worked hard at his job and despite lots of uncertainty in the banking industry over his career, his job has remained intact.  He is the type of employee everyone should be.  He works hard at his hobbies, has trained for marathons, and works hard around the house.  My parents don't hire anybody to do anything.  They do it themselves. 

    My sister has a master's degree and had (has) a very successful career as a therapist until she moved across the country a month ago.  She was very well-loved by her clients because she was so dedicated to her work.  She had to pack up her entire house by herself when she was 7 months pregnant a few weeks ago and I never heard her complain about how hard that must have been.  She's a worker, so I'm sure it was just another day in the life.  She exercises through her pregnancies, despite being sick as a dog.  And anybody that's spent more than 15 seconds with her oldest son knows how much work and stamina he requires.  But interestingly enough, she's got it.  I'd dare say most experienced moms with 10 kids couldn't hold up as well as she does with her one son.  (If you haven't met her son, you should because he's the craziest and coolest 2-year old I've ever met.  (And that's saying something considering my kids are pretty crazy and cool too.))

    Her husband is the second-most hard worker I've ever met (right behind my mom).  He worked three jobs during his undergrad in nursing and was a dedicated father, and kept up their huge yard/farm and still graduated near the top of his class.  He is now in graduate school and I'm sure he will be extremely successful there too.  In the 8-9 years I've known him, I've never seen him sit around. Seriously never.  That guy's middle name should be work. 

    When I was a newleywed and my brother was in high school I was really surprised to find out how much he was earning at his part-time job as a server at a countryclub.  I ran across his paystub and could hardly wrap my head around how much more money he was earning than me as a college grad.  He had plans for after high school (going to Europe, serving a mission, college, buying a nice camera), so he was working as much as possible at the highest paying job he could find to earn what he needed.  I was so impressed by that.  And now that he's in graduate school, an involved father, a fun friend, and his ward's YM president, I can predict those work skills learned in high school will payoff even more for his future.  Oh, and he came over the other day and made me dinner!  For real.

    If I didn't like his wife so much, she'd irritate me because she's just so perfect.  She's the type that runs on the treadmill through her pregnancy and looks amazing 15 minutes after delivering a baby.  She takes care of a newborn, exercises every day, supports her husband in everything he does, and works as a personal trainer.  And she's also that type that could have 8 kids and not even bat an eye at how much work that would entail.  

    And then there's G.  He has a demanding job yet never complains.  He is the rare (I'm learning) husband that does things around the house.  And I don't even have to ask him.  He just knows what needs to be done, especially how I like things done, and does it.  He is an excellent housekeeper:  he knows how to do laundry and put it away in the right place, clean bathrooms, do yardwork, clean up the kitchen, put away toys, keep the cars clean, and take care of the kids.  A couple weekends ago I left on a last-minute trip to Utah and he managed the house perfectly in my absence.  He did the meals, took Buddy to soccer twice, got him to school, took Sambo to swimming lessons, took the kids to church, did a top-to-bottom cleaning of both kids' rooms, did about 7 loads of laundry, and worked from home.  When I'd talk to him on the phone he was never "exhausted" or "tired of the kids" like I always am.  When I got home the house was immaculate.  I was so impressed, but not surprised. 

    After reading all that, I know you're jealous.  

    So with that long preface, now you can see why G and I were so overjoyed after back-to-school night, when Buddy's teacher said he is "so cool" and "such a workhorse."  In our family, there is no higher compliment than to be a good worker (and of course to be cool). 

    The thing is, it's true!  Buddy is such a big help to me.  And I don't mean the kind of "help" where the child is involved in a project so it takes 5 times as long.  He is a legitimate help and support to me and I really appreciate and admire that about him. 

    I've been instructed to "take it easy" and "no walking" for a few weeks so my foot can heal.  I've relied on both the kids to help even more than they already do -- and boy have they risen to the challenge.  Buddy helps me with everything and amazingly, Sambo is capable of doing quite a bit too.  I put dusters in both boys hands yesterday and got the house dusted for the first time in a looooong time.  They loved it!  I loved it!  I have to make a conscious effort not to ask my little boys to do to much because if I ask, they'll do it.  They both love to work, especially if they feel like they are really helping and if they feel responsible for the task.

    And that's why we've called our blog, "Another Day Another Dollar."  I often go to bed and tell G, "Another day, another dollar.  Oh wait... I don't get paid for this."

    Yet all joking aside, it's not the dollar that matters, but rather the process of working hard to have a (relatively) clean house, happy kids, and full life.  I appreciate that work was the foundation of the family I was raised in and the the family I am now raising.  And hopefully Buddy's First Grade teacher isn't the last person to call him a "workhorse."   

    Friday, September 24, 2010

    In Case I Haven't Mentioned Lately

    I love these kids.
    Them + G = Best Part of My Life.





    (P.S.  We got a glowing report from Buddy's teacher at 'back-to-school night' last night.  And I still can't wipe the smile off my face.  I'm so proud and I'm so happy.  I could never have expected something so simple could bring so much joy.)

    Thursday, September 16, 2010

    Broken

    Nearly 5 weeks ago I attempted to step from my house down one step into the garage.  Unfortunately, it was a terrible mis-step onto a cleat... and I quickly fell into a heap on the garage floor.  While the kids watched.  The pain was excruciating and immediately both boys were in tears watching me writhe around until I could get control of myself.  I had a carload of groceries to bring into the house and Buddy was supposed to be at a birthday party in 30 minutes.  And we all needed lunch.  Oh, and G was out of town, not expected home for 7 more hours.

    Within minutes, my foot was enormous.  Through his tears of worry, Buddy was able to help me accomplish my tasks, including getting his brother down for a nap.  But not without all sorts of drama like, "Are you going to die?" and "Great.  Now we're going to have to go to daycare."

    To make a long story short, I called G home and he came as quickly as possible, cancelling his meeting with clients and driving the 3.5 hours to get home to help.  A friend (the birthday party hostess) took me to the doctor for x-rays which turned out fine.  My foot was too swollen for a good view apparently, but the radiologist reviewed the x-rays the following week and called with "you're fine" results.  The doctor told me that if I wasn't feeling better in two weeks to follow up with a podiatrist.

    Well, during that two week period, I put my mind over matter and willed myself to feel better.  I was in charge of our stake daddy/daughter barn activity so I spent several days shopping for supplies and food, getting the barn ready and moving heavy haybales.  During that time I also canned pears, got all the necessities together for Buddy to start school, enjoyed the last days of summer, and packed for vacation.

    Eventually I went to the podiatrist when I realized my foot was still horribly swollen and bruised and sore.  He took x-rays which showed damage, but they were inconclusive because of the location and swelling.  The next day we left for a trip to Utah, with plans to get an MRI when I returned.  I hobbled all over Utah willing myself to heal.  Some days were definitely better than others and I learned that some activities (swimming) put way too  much resistance on my foot to be comfortable.

    I finally had the MRI last week, then the following day I returned to Utah for another trip in which I helped my dearest Shaniqua unpack her new house.  I actually felt pretty good the entire time.  So good that I figured the MRI results would be totally clean.

    Today I got the frustrating news that I have torn ligaments and at least six fractures.  Can you believe that?!  And now I'm on strict orders to stay off my foot which includes very little driving for the next four weeks.  I tried to convince the doctor that the orders were totally impractical and don't fit into my lifestyle.  Then he reminded me that I've got an 5-week injury that hasn't begun to heal because rest "didn't fit into my lifestyle."  Then he strongly encouraged me to rent a "knee scooter" and gave me a postcard with a phone number to call.  He said the knee scooter is awesome because you can get out of the house and stay "active" while avoiding the burden of crutches, which in his opinion are not good for you back and wrists. 

    I literally laughed hysterically at the idea.  I mean actually laughed and laughed and laughed.  Especially when I took a good look at the advertisement:

    My doctor is a young, attractive, and extremely hip, so I totally trust his judgment on cool.  Except this is just not OK.  Can you imagine me riding around Safeway and soccer practice with my knee scooter?  It's just as bad as headgear in middle school.  No, on second thought, I think this might be worse.