Life...

When I was growing up the Kennedy assassination was the "I remember when" statement of choice. Today, my generation looks to 9/11 as ours. I was pregnant with our first child and kept willing him to stay inside, thinking how could we be bringing a child into such chaos. But more importantly I was getting ready for work. We had very important suppliers in town that day and death and destruction be damned we were going to sell some bourbon!!! I actually believe that day was the beginning of the restructuring of my priorities. I drove in awe from account to account trying to convince restaurant owners that an expansive bourbon collection was just as important as the lost lives being displayed unceasingly on our tv's. I got home and took a shower. It's easy when you're in the moment to try to refocus on what really matters. When tragedy strikes we run and kiss our kids and hold them tight vowing to not let the sun set without a goodnight snuggle. Life happens, laundry suddenly seems more important than reading that story. Cleaning the kitchen out ranks a bike ride, until another slap in the face reminds me that the most important things in life are clambering at this very second for another reassurance of my love, even though I thought they already knew. An easy weekend alone with mom turns into a Saturday dinner out and snuggling with a movie followed by a Sunday of football and talking smack, these are the moments I'll hold tight as I brace for the next blow.

Father's

I was a typical daddy's girl. My dad taught me how to mow a yard. My dad taught me how to check my brake pads and how to ride a motorcycle. My dad taught me how to properly kiss a sturgeon before releasing it to grow a little bit more. My dad taught me to watch in amazement as the light changes to capture the exact photo you were wishing for. My dad taught me that marriage is hard and he taught me to never give up. But the most important thing I think he's teaching me is humility. Recently, I spent an extended stay at my parents. My car decided to baffle the auto techs and after changing multiple sensors along with every other car check it was still leaving them at a loss to the problem. As we sat in the waiting area, dollar signs filling my head, my dad took my hands. He looked at me and said we needed to pray. At the mechanics, in a waiting room, other manly men flipping through the latest Sports Illustrated my dad prayed. Out loud. Tears streaming down my face he prayed for an answer, he prayed for my sanity, he prayed for a calm spirit for my husband receiving the ever growing tab, he prayed that we would learn from this trial and he prayed patience for the anxious children who had been ready for 4 days to hit the road. And tears continued to stream down my cheeks. I'm not there yet. I don't think if I was him I could've done the same thing. "What will people think?" My mouth is dry thinking about it!! I want to be there, I want to not care, to have the strength in my faith that supercedes sideways glances, but I don't. I'm trying. My parents continue to set the bar a little higher, forever willing their grown children to strive for more. Thank you dad.

Childhood left behind, the other daddy in my life is all mine. This past week we reached a new pinnacle in our relationship. We worked as a family on our church's VBS. And it was hot. For any that knew our weather that week you know I'm not talking about that, because it rained!!! No, it was him. There's something about watching your 'great white hunter' doing every goofy dance, singing the most repetitious bible songs and sharing his life and faith with kids that quite honestly couldn't have been topped by the most romantic weekend getaway. Seeing him open and honest and not caring what others possibly thought was simply, amazing. Mom's are supposed to do the stupid stuff, we're supposed to know all the moves and teach them the words while dad sits in the Lay-z Boy and watches. My man was out of the chair. I love you babe, you're a great dad, leader, partner and friend. On top of it all, you're mine.

Questions...

The steam rose slowly around me, the scent of vanilla cleansing not only the air, quiet bliss...BAM,BAM,BAM,BAM,BAM!!!"MOM?! MOM??!!, I'm starving! MOM??? are you making breakfast? mom?"
deep, long, drawn-out sigh...."why yes, I am."
"No you're not, you're taking a shower."
"THEN WHY DID YOU ASK???!!!"
bye-bye bliss, buh-bye...

Honestly, it never ceases to amaze me, whether while I'm in the shower or simply trying to pee in peace, the questions never end.

BAM,BAM,BAM,BAM,BAM!!MOM? "I'm bored, what can I do?"
deep, long, drawn-out sigh...."Could I possibly finish going to the bathroom before answering that?!"

A mom shower is at most 8 minutes, any other bathroom duties less than 5, and yet...The mind of a child is fleeting, they have a question and it needs to be asked, now. A memory from yesterday pops back into view and it must be shared immediately. Ideas for the following week are bursting forth, if they don't convey their concerns right.now.all.could.be.lost!!! THE HORROR!!!

And yet, there's something to be said for speaking your mind, while it's still in there! They say a mom loses a bit of her memory with each pregnancy, after 3, I figure mine is equivalent to a chair. For example...Thursday I have a conversation with someone about a very cool, unusual extracurricular activity they are involved in...a couple days later someone else brings up the same activity and like de ja vue, I know I've been here before but when??? and who??? One entire day goes by and now I'm talking to original person from first conversation and Hey! de ja vue again!!! but now who was inquiring yesterday about this activity??!!! AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! Trust me I'm not trying to sort through the countless conversations Ive had in a day to figure out one of 20 I've had, we're talking about one conversation with one person that I can't apparently wrap my brain around because it is mush. Which probably explains why it doesn't bother me nearly as much as you would think when the kids pound incessantly on the door to ask a question they know the answer to, when they walk away, I simply forget.

Easter

Yesterday I had the privilege of standing with some of my best friends in front of 36 women and giving my testimony. I was nervous that I was just going to stammer and cry the whole time, combine that with the ever present fear of what will everyone think of me now? and let's just say it was a roller coaster ride of a day. In the end I sucked it up right along with everyone else. I knew ultimately I had to post it here too because it's screaming in me to do so, so I'm pulling up my big girl panties and letting it fly...

2 yrs ago we lived in Tucson and every Easter we celebrated w/the rest of the masses at a huge Easter egg hunt at the local park where they would helicopter in the Easter bunny, for years every time Ethan saw a helicopter he would jump up and down yelling BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY!!! 2yrs ago today, on March 25, we shut the door of our moving van, strapped in the kids and said goodbye. Goodbye to our marriage counselor, goodbye to my cardiologist treating my severe anxiety, and that was all. I didn't need to say goodbye to any friends because I didn't have any. 11 years in a strange city and no one to really say goodbye to. I thought I was fine, I thought I had my little family and we're all good. Which would of course be why I had a marriage counselor and a cardiologist. 11 yrs I didn't go to church, I didn't practice the faith of my youth, I didn't need to. 11 yrs I prayed as if I was placing my order at McDonald's, when it was convenient for and about me and for 11 yrs I called myself a “non-practicing-christian”. For 11 yrs I lied, cheated and deluded myself into thinking I was being the best wife and then mother I could be. For 11 yrs I felt trapped in a cycle of deceit and self-centeredness that I had created, until it slowly began to unravel. And it felt good. When my husbands current job was handed to him a few short weeks after I told him I wanted to move here, my attitude changed. My eyes started opening to how much I hated my life. The very real prospect of another on the horizon. I made a promise and it was unconditional. When we got here, we would start going to church. Within a month we found one we agreed on something we hadn't done in 11 yrs. It was not easy getting up every Sunday morning. It was even harder to go when Eric had to work and it was up to only me, but I did. The more I went, the more I wanted to go. The more I read, the more I wanted to read. 2 yrs ago I had to buy myself a bible, I didn't have one. When I climbed in that van if you would've told me I would be coordinating a christian moms group I would've laughed, if you would've told me in the same 2yrs I would be teaching Sunday school, I'd be asking you what you're smokin'?! But I am. All because I became an active participant in my faith. The same one I placidly had for 11 yrs. I no longer wait around for my faith to bowl me over and send me the answers on a winged dove, I go in search of the answers. If I'm mad or confused or my anxiety is taking over once again, I open my bible and I read it, and in doing so, I found a loving God who was waiting for me all along. Jesus died on the cross so I can continue to screw things up and like a loving father tell me it's OK, you'll do better next time. He took on all the stupid thoughts in my head, the angry outbursts at my children and all my crazy rationalizations for the choices I continue to make so that at the end of the day I can lay it all before him once again and once again start a new. For 11 yrs I tried to make it so complicated, we didn't have time, did he really exist, does it all really matter? It matters. I'm surrounded by amazing women who fall just like me and who offer me a hand back up every time, because that's what we're supposed to do. I was robbed of 11 yrs of confidence in my life. My anxiety was out of control because I didn't possess the faith that ultimately it will be OK. Life is not roses and butterflies but I know without a doubt who will win in the end. Easter isn't about bunnies in helicopters, it's about all my crap nailed firmly to that cross so I can start each day clean, new and un-conditionally loved.

Teeth.

So maybe not so well formed. Solutions still not established, but definitely brewing. How can you get mad at them for obsessively brushing their teeth?? Especially when 2 of them are getting cavities filled this week! Obviously it could be worse. The troll who lives in the bathtub though needs to be stopped. I don't know why the shower curtain flipped over the bar irritates me tenfold compared to toothbrushes. Yes, cavities have been found and will be eradicated on Friday. Apparently, they 'brush wonderfully' but I 'obviously don't make them floss' Do most 5 year olds floss??? Please don't answer that, because in my little world they indeed do not. In 2 years (yes it has been that long) they went from 'mouths full of room' to 'Wow, it's really tight in there!' Yes, I did have braces for 4 years and maybe I just figure there is no logical way for them to avoid that fate too. I would love to spare them the physical and us the financial pain but let's just say it won't be shocking when we schedule the first consultation with the orthodontist. But I digress, that is dealing with straight teeth and my issue is with flossed ones. Floss picks have been purchased and now yet another thing is strewn about my bathroom. Waste baskets be damned, let's just throw it all on the floor, maybe Chloe will pick it up and floss her teeth in the process as well. Luckily, tax returns are in so we will be helping our dentist fund that International Cruise she's been eyeing. Money in, money out.

A Well Formed Plan

Well, maybe not so well formed but a plan none-the-less. As the purpose of this blog goes 'to let my kids see a glimpse into what they did to me' I figure I should get technical. Saturday is T-Day, that would be tracking day. Oh yes, I am going to set up charts in each room and for a day track the activity that is required of me there. I picked Saturday because all the kids are home and I intentionally don't scrub the house, do laundry, etc... As with the majority of humans I try to take Saturday's off and simply maintain the household. Scrubbing resumes Monday morning, which after a weekend of three kids and varying appearances of one husband, it's never pretty. As predictions go I'm guessing 8 times that I have to put away toothbrushes and toothpaste, 10 times of picking towels up off the floor, another 5 pulling shower curtain down into a normal position etc...Most moms can see where I'm going with this. Should be interesting...

R.E.S.P.E.C.T

I've posted before about how I know when I'm supposed to write something. Basically, to make the voices in my head stop their tirade I have to put it down on virtual paper. Well, the ranting won't let up and after a lengthy debate with myself, I finally figured out what I had to do. You see, I witnessed a disturbing (not eww gross disturbing, but the I'm going to pummel that person disturbing) situation where as a normal, calm person I did nothing. Unfortunately, my lack of nothing has unleashed the raving, moral, avenger and justice needs to be served. I think we're a nation of complainers and virtual healers. We see this abound on Facebook with the "state your bra color for breast cancer awareness" or "post this if you want to bring the troops home." The only thing I became aware of was your preference for undergarments and I'm pretty sure the troops still aren't here. So before I could write my lecture I had to make sure I did something about it, I did, so on we go. Disclaimer in place, this has to do with church, religion, God and other uncomfortable for some issues, please move along if these topics bring twitches and/or hives. In our last church service I viewed not 1 but 2 persons texting and reading emails through the entire service. Not an "I need to jump on quick, it's really important, someone may die if I don't read this right now" but a leisurely "I'm bored out of my mind, I should be making clam dip for the big game" sort of perusing. To top it off not 1 but 3 phones rang and 1 was actually answered. So what's the big deal? Why the tormenting voices? Respect. When I was working and we had those big corporate meetings we were told every time to put our phones on stun, and we did. We respected the VP that flew in from who knows where, to tell us how bad we were doing. We didn't like them, we didn't want to sell their "I wish it was at least mediocre wine" but we respected them as people doing their job. OK, so back to church. Who's the boss there? The pastor? That guy? Her? No, it's God. I go to hear what it is that He wants me to hear that day. Not what the literal guy behind the podium is saying to me, but what God is telling him to say, to me. Now, do I wish I was in a position that I no longer needed to hear what the message for the day is? No. Every time I read one of the books in the Bible I end up highlighting different passages than the last. Depending on what stage of my life I am in, things hit me differently. I can't tell you how many times I've thought "oh man we're singing this song again?" Only to see a woman a few rows up weeping at the first cords. It was what she needed to hear that day and if I wrote off the service as "not for me" maybe she wouldn't have heard it. Respect. If you can't go to service and give your undivided attention for the one hour, one time a week that he is asking then shame on you. Are you really going to convince anyone that that phone call was more important than hearing what little message may be lurking in today's sermon just for you, or what about the hurting parishioner next to you? What if they miss that one thing they were meant to hear because of your obnoxious ring tone? These are the same people I'm sure, that are holding out for God to scream their life plan at them. "Where is He? Why doesn't he answer my prayers?" Take the bluetooth out of your ear and LISTEN. Stop complaining and be an active participant in your spiritual health, God is not going to smack you upside the head and toss your cell phone into the narthex, but I might.

A Planting We Will Go...

Well, maybe not so much planting as planning. Every year I pour over the seed catalogs trying to figure out the perfect veggies for our climate and when to start them. This year is no exception albeit I've been otherwise occupied with my crack habit du jour, aka alpaca/silk bliss, the veggies still need a plantin'. So instead of writing my plan out on yet another piece of paper to be found (or not) next year, I figured I would put it all here. If you could care less about the first and last frost dates I suggest you move along right now...Our last frost date is April 25th. Oh sweet April 25th, the trees will have buds, flowers poking their heads and Ethan will once again be able to let the girls out without bundling up like an Eskimo. The veggies right now are...

Beans, golden beets, brussels sprouts, carrots, corn, cucumber, lettuce, melons, spinach, onions, peas, peppers, potatoes, summer squash, winter squash, tomatoes and a whole mess of herbs. Now this may seem way early but honestly there are plenty of cold weather seeds that just might get going so why not try!?! Lettuce and peas love the cold so Ill be putting them out shortly, a milk jug cloche and we should be set!!

January: assess seeds from last year, buy more...using Botanical Interests for most since proceeds go to our MOPS group and I bought some of their seeds at Portland Nursery last year and they did great!! The rest will be picked up at Portland Nursery on our Spring Break vacation. Need to gather pots and till garden with a plethora of chicken poo.

February Late: Spinach, lettuce and early tomatoes will start indoors.

March Late: beets, St. Patrick's Day potato, peas, inside: peppers, tomatoes, melons all, winter squash,

April early: lettuce, rest of potatoes, onions,

April late: carrots, beans~ bush and pole,

May Late: Corn, Brussels sprouts, summer squash, set out starts for peppers, tomatoes and melons.

June Early: Cucumbers

Lettuce will be sown every couple weeks till it gets too cold in winter!

Dandello's Garden is a wealth of information for planning, as well as Home Vegetable Planning. Absent off this years list are cauliflower and broccoli. I don't know who you are that say those grow easy but all I got were giant plants with no flower! Off to assess the situation, unfortunately seeds are stored right off the knitting room and the cashmere wrap still on needles is calling my name...

Cave's

What started out as a funny quip quickly turned to an illogical reality. I've been setting up my own knitting room, fully furnished with couch, chairs, tables, storage, wine and beverage (Guinness) fridge. I put up some old curtains last night to hide the laundry room and stairway from view at which point Eric pointed out that I had made myself quite a nice cave. I retorted "yeah, it's my 'mom' cave." laughs ensued as did remarks that I should blog about it...etc...So in preparation for such blog I thought I'd conduct a bit of an experiment and I googled 'man cave'. I got dictionary responses such as...A room, space, corner or area of a dwelling that is specifically reserved for a male person to be in a solitary condition, away from the rest of the household in order to work, play, involve himself in certain hobbies, activities without interruption. This area is usually decorated by the male that uses it without interference from any female influence.~ Urban Dictionary.

I also got lay outs and plans on how to build and stock the ultimate 'man hideaway'. Now google 'mom cave' hmmmmm, couple blogs using the term loosely (just like me), google 'woman cave' this was actually pretty funny it gave me lists of things relating to cave women!! nice.

Apparently, we don't need a refuge. We don't need any where to rest without interruption, without influences of any one else. again, nice. Women don't need time to recoup, we don't need to involve ourselves in activities that don't involve the entire household. Trust me my 'mom cave' still has a children's corner, I can only fight the inevitable so much, they might as well play with their own toys instead of mine! I'm lucky enough to have a husband that understands the importance of me time. Wonder when the rest of society will come out of the stone age.