Ring Around the Rosie

I have been thinking a lot lately about my role as the mama and the wife.  It is no secret that when the "going gets tough"  I get down (not in the groovy sense).  I completely shut down and lock myself inside my head with my pessimistic thoughts and throw away the key.  A kitchen full of dirty dishes and a sticky floor is enough to send me straight back to bed with two toddlers body slamming me and begging for an adventure.  Laundry is absolutely haunting.  Everywhere I turn there is something that is begging to be lugged down to my basement and don't get me started on the basement. Throw in a few weeks of throwup and diareah and well I am done. 

I am sure that I need a system.  There is no doubt in my mind that my household and life screams ORGANIZATION!  I am not unfamiliar with how to organize and prioritize.  That is not the problem.  The problem is that I am locked up in my head like Rapunzel without the key or the hair.  My determination and desperation has to kick in in order for me to get out.

Sometimes all it takes is a new beauty product to get me out of bed in the morning. The thought of new eyeliner or a fresh tube of mascara can carry me right through a morning.  Other times it is something as simple as the sound of the garage door opening and a little voice saying "come on Wydia, come on Wydia" to get me moving before my chicklets escape into the cold 7 a.m. air.  Always a simple game of Ring around the Rosie can make everything seem glorious.

I have decided today that I am just about organized and motivated as I have decided to be.  That seems to be good enough for the people I love.  I am grateful beyond measure.

The Plague

With each episode of puking I experience with my children I find strength within myself that I never imagined existed.  I have a low tolerance for germs and yuckiness.  It puts me into a frenzy of disinfecting and trying to clean EVERYTHING.  With small children that just isn't realistic.  I have had to surrender my anxieties and tendency to lose my mind in situations where germs are in abundance. 

The good ole influenza has visited our house yet again.  Rider started the party last week.  The weekend was my turn and last night Lydia and Austin ( in that order) took their turns.  By last night I was a fine tuned machine.  I carefully layed out every towel in the house over my bed.  I placed the puke bowels strategically near each patient.  I am happy to say we kept it in the confined towel draped areas. 

Danny is my trusty partner in all episodes involving throwing up.  He was safely away at his beloved potato harvest during this most recent plague.  Just to comfort myself I was sure to keep him updated on the number of times each child had puked as if he could do anything about it.  This was most often via a text message in the wee hours of the morning. It was usually at the point I was sure that I was down for the count and needed to call in reinforcements.  Sheesh!  I am such a spaz at times.  I am so happy to say that all potatoes within his stewardship are safely tucked in their cozy cellars and he is home.  Everyone is happier and appetites seemed to return the minute he walked in the door.  My three year old exclaimed  when he came home "look Mom, your daddy came back!"  He is back and I am grateful beyond words.  For now it seems we are all well.  I have stopped spraying and wiping everything and EVERYONE with disinfecting wipes and hydrogen peroxide.  I am convinced I could never teach or work in a public school.  The thought sends a shutter through my spine.

My Daughter

This is my daughter's feet when I layed her down for a nap the other day.  That is mud from somewhere outside;  the garden, the neighbor's sandbox, the mud puddle in the driveway,  who knows!  

 

My daughter is sweet and loving and she is tough and sassy.  I love her from the top of my head down to my toes.  She brings so much happiness to our family and she has expanded our ability to show loves to one another. 

She has had so many milestones lately.  She is going pee in the potty (not potty trained, just keeping up with the big boys!).   This is mostly because we are trying to convince her older brother to do the same thing.  She picks up on stuff so quickly.  She went to nursery yesterday for the first time all by herself.  She looked so big when I peaked back through the door window to check on her.  I felt proud of her and grateful to have her in my life.  



Swimming with the brothers at Grammy's hotel


 When I think about what I want for my daughter I get overwhelmed with mostly my responsibility to be a good example to her.  I want her to be herself and love who she is no matter what.  I want her to have compassion and confidence and to shun vanity and embrace true beauty.  I want her to love others unconditionally and choose her closest friends carefully.  I want her to understand to her very core where true happiness comes from and radiate that to others.   I hope she make choices about how she uses her pain and experiences that will bring her closer to Heavenly Father.  I love her so much and can't believe she is a part of our life.

Roles

How do you feel about your role in your family or home?  Did you choose it, or was it assigned?  I am the oldest but in a family of only two siblings, so that doesn't really qualify me as an authority on oldest children.  I feel responsible for my family of origins decisions to this day and I am almost the big 4 0!  I feel uncomfortable with silence or when someone needs to step up and take charge.  I worry about family get togethers and being a good hostess even if it is not my party. 

I married a ''younger" sibling--2nd youngest of 9 to be exact.  It has been the best thing for me.  I am exploring a whole new world of sitting back and letting others make the decisions and doing the worrying.  It has been very therapeutic and annoying at the same time. 

My children are all confused in this business.  We have an oldest or "first born" child who is really a middle child right now and an oldest child (in this family) who is by birth the baby child right now.   The princess, well she is comfortably riding it out as youngest right now.  I worry regularly about what they may have to write on their blogs about or tell their therapists. 

I am told all the time that my current role in this family is very important.  I would have never imagined that I was solely responsible for filling up four tummies all day long, or picking up the same toys over and over, or teaching manners, or washing folding and putting away the same clothes over and OVER!  This is a very interesting role.  When this role changes I imagine that I will miss it, believe it or not.  Right now, I have to offer myself rewards to get through it, such as a little diet beverage from the gas station or a few moments alone with the door closed in the potty.   I just spent the morning making oatmeal, toast, sandwiches for lunch, cookies for lunch, driving to school, changing diapers, sweeping, spraying down 20 toes covered in mud, building a jump for a two dump trucks, folding the same basket of laundry twice, trying to read scriptures, swaddling a cabbage patch baby over and over.  I think it is time for a diet pepsi.

Homebody

When you leave for vacation do you feel the need to pack the entire house so you can have all the comforts of home?  Do you feel the need to clean your house top to bottom before you can even think about packing?  Maybe you are the type that just waits until the last minute and throws together a bag of the essentials and charges head on into an adventure.  Not me.

I have travel anxiety.  I won't waste time blaming it on my parents or childhood, but I have my suspicions where this may have developed.  I have traveled a little bit, once over the pond and once to islands of Hawaii, and my big adventure to Canada as a missionary.  I haven't traveled much since settling down to marry and raise children.  Just a trip across town to Grandmas is enough to cause a mild panic attack. 

I love to stay home.  Yep, a bonified homebody that is me.  Upon closer inspection of my migratory patterns it may seem that I am anything but a homebody.  From age 0-17 I moved 12 times and changed elementary schools three times and junior high twice.  Age 17-21 I moved 5 times and lived with 23 different roommates.  Age 21-23 I dont' really count because it was my mission years.  Ages 23-34 I moved 10 times and lived with 18 different roommates.  That is a grand total of 27 moves and 41 roommates.  I should be a PRO--an absolute interpersonal communication genius.  Instead, I am a homebody with a pathological fear of packing up and traveling. 

Tomorrow I am taking my three kiddos and going on a little 4-day vacation just over 100 miles away sans my husband.  I am not certain which part of that sentence gives me the most anxiety.  Instead of preparing by doing laundry and packing I have cleaned out drawers and closets, loaded my dishwasher twice, and wrote three blog posts. I am thinking about making some cookies.  I have got to get a grip. 

My oldest was following me around this morning asking if he could take this and that.  I found myself getting frustrated with his constant nagging to take more and more toys and things.  Then I realized that this was right up my alley.  He has some travel anxiety as well.  So, he now has a backpack for himself and his brother and sister each packed with all the comforting things in their world.  I am totally fine with that.  I am considering packing one for myself.  Just the thought soothes my soul. 

Simple Things

I just finished watching a DVR episode of Ice Road Truckers and no this was not my choice.  My little boy is fascinated with trucks big and small.  He gets so excited to see a truck, ride in a truck, fix a truck.  I am so thankful my husband brings his work truck home each night.  Just the sound of it coming around the corner is enough to draw away the whining children under my feet long enough to do something productive. 

A couple months ago it was like Christmas at our home.  Our daddy got a new work truck--a Dodge Cummins.  Sadly, I had to just google that to see if that was the actual name.  The magic of this new truck was lost on me.  I have no appreciation for all that this truck represents, but my children do.  They beg for rides around the block.  Each night when my husband gets home from work they rush out and inspect its wheels and all safe moving parts.  I don't think I have ever seen my husband this excited about something new in the five years we have been married.  Not even the birth of our children.  He was so excited that he "hoped I write on my blog" about it.  Again, I was not inspired enough to match his excitement.  Don't you waste a minute feeling sorry for him.  His kids have more than made up for my lack of enthusiasm.  Their first words in the morning after "GET MY CHOCOLATE MILK!" are "where's daddy?  is he in the Norco Truck?"  We go through this ritual each and every day. 

In other news we are the proud owners of Size 4 Thomas the Train underwear.  My Rider boy clutched them to his chest like his favorite toy all the way home and he even held them during nap time.  He was proud.  He even seemed to go along with my subtle hints about "no more diapers and big boy underwear."  So far he has been willing to comply as long as he can wear his new "toy."  I really think he thinks it is like a brand new toy.  He tried to convince me to buy some for his little sister.  She is definitely curious about the whole business.  She is very cooperative about playing along with the latest and greatest thing in the family.  As far as she is concerned this is just another fun adventure like the Norco truck. 

Madame Jopo Harriseenie

Cousins are special people around this house.  In several instances cousins have trumped neighbor friends.  Mostly that is because of the big boy who lives at our house.  His cousins have been everything to him in his seven years on this earth.  We have been known to encourage eating of vegetables on the basis that so and so cousin eats that particular vegetable all the time and LOVES IT!  When you say the word cousins around here there is a pause, then silence, and then an uproar of when are we going or when are they coming.  It really is magical. 

As I remember it I was always the "older" cousin.  Now with some perspective I see that I wasn't that much older, but I was extremely bossy.  With bossiness comes a sense of being much older and wiser than your actual years.  During one particular summer reunion at our Grandma and Grandpa Rassmussen's I was given the very important assignment to be Madame Jopo Harriseenie.  I wrapped a towel on my head and put a afghan around my shoulders and with a upside down glass bowl I sat on a lawn chair inside a tent and I told the fortunes of all the "little" cousins. I felt very important.  I know there is a picture somewhere of my moment of glory, but I can't find it right this moment. 

The Petersen family is putting together a last minute end of summer reunion. As we try to come up with fun stuff to do for cousins young and old I am reminded of my moment as a fortune teller.  It was a essential part of my character development.  I see now that those moments are when you begin to know you belong to a family who recognizes your strengths and weaknesses.  That is when you feel like you can be yourself and still be loved.  I am positive my aunts and grandma were painfully aware of my bossiness and tendency to want to always be where the adults were.  They did a good job of making me feel like I was special and needed in our family even though I mostly drove them nuts. 

I know why cousins are so important at our house.  My little ones are still not too sure about all this cousin business, but I am going to encourage them to be a part of the cousins so they will know that love and acceptance that will carry them throughout their life. 

Signs of Summer

It wouldn't be summer at the Petersen 1/2 Acre without a decent virus complete with five days of throwing up.   Yes, you heard me FIVE days.  No, it was not continuous.  It was nicely spread out throughout the occupants of this house and at decent hours of the night like 3 a.m., 2 a.m., 12 midnight, 1 p.m., etc.  We really know how to party around here. 

It all started when the cousins came to visit.  They arrived in shifts--one left on the doorstep by grandma.   Then four in a van with Aunt M.  They were armed with swimming suits and towels and ready for a party.   I reluctantly began to prepare Petersen Water Park.  I could feel the pukies coming on and I knew it wasn't going to be pretty.  Somehow I also managed to whip up some cookies decent enough to feed hungry cousins and anyone else who cared. 

The cousins suited up and unknown to me the neighbors did too.  At one point I think I hid in my kitchen and peeked out the window while whining to my husband on the phone that there were at least 100 kids in my backyard (I think it was actually 12).  It turns out that the cousins scared off the neighbors and Petersen Water Park closed down just in time for Lydia to start her pukies.  Grandma showed up to take all the cousins back and somehow she left with the one she left on the doorstep.  Then in a strange twist the remaining partiers were picked up and we were still left with one cousin for an overnight stay in the Petersen Puke hotel. 

Somehow it is now Wednesday night and everything is somewhat back to normal.  We are down to no cousins, no pukies, and only two children (Austin is visiting relatives in UT).  I sprayed down the Petersen water park toys with disinfectant.  We have had some trouble with our water park toys and the wind.  I have fished out the Whale pool and the rectangle "big Kid" pool out of our neighbor's yard a few times over the past week.  After I woke up from my pukies yesterday we were again missing a pool.  I think it is a sign that summer is coming to an end.  Thankfully so have the pukies!

My Thoughts Exactly

It is the greatest desire of my heart to share my feelings about motherhood and my life in this stage.  I haven't quite mastered the ability to spill it as I would wish.  Today I was reading my daily dose of C. Jane Enjoy It by blogging author Courtney Kendrick.  At the risk of sounding stalkerish, I feel like she is my twin sister from another life.  We have had similar life experiences and similar life points.  She has inspired me and comforted me with her painfully honest and hilarious writing.  Her middle name is Jane and I am neither confirming or denying that I named my Lydia Jane after her.  Today's post, I'd Like To Think They Picked Me For a Reason struck a major chord of truth with me.  I can simply say, "My Thoughts Exactly!"  Go read it.

Staking a Claim

Who said "if you fail to plan, you plan to fail?"  I am not sure, but I am certain that their are forces at work, for good and evil, when it comes to the precious minutes in a day. 

My summer days are melting away with the 5000 popsicles we consume in a week.  I can't seem to get anything accomplished and there seems to be endless invitations for fun and sun.  I rise with the birds and don't seem to be getting any worms.  My daily battles revolve around the water faucets outside, naptimes, and getting too close to the road.  My secret enemies are the ants hanging around my garage waiting to slurp up forgotten popsicles and the greedy birds raiding my garden.  It may seem like a whole lot of nothing, but it is gobbling up my time like the hot dogs Rider eats for Breakfast, lunch and dinner---ewww!  I am nutritionally balanced Mother of the Year. 

We need a plan and we need more time.  I am going to get to work on that right after I rescue Lydia from Rider and the hose and begin the drying out process for the 4th time today and pick up their uneaten hot dog buns off the grass.  I don't need word getting out to the ant army about that feast. In the meant time I am staking my claim on my time so I can accomplish a whole lot of something before there is nothing left.

The Great Berry Heist

This is the very spot where it took place.  Although, not the very moment--this is a recreation.  I was inspecting my strawberries yesterday.  Some newly ripened berries had disappeared and I was trying to get to the bottom of the crime.  I interrogated Austin and the neighbor boys.  They seemed innocent enough.  As I kneeled down and rustled through the leaves looking for more berries there it was.  Right in the middle of my Strawberry pot was a big fat Robin.  It wasn't moving.  I was a little afraid it was dead, but its head was moving.  The closer I got with my team of investigators it began to show signs of panic.  It found the strength to hop out of the pot and hop across the yard.   I knew it couldn't fly and how did I know?  Rider chased it clear across the yard yelling "here birdie birdie" while it hopped as fast as it twiggy legs would go.  I convinced Rider with a Popsicle to call off his chase.   We went in the house discussing all the ways to help a bird.  Austin wanted me to go immediately to Target to get some bird medicine, "you know like the kind that you put on my owie." 

I completely forgot about my little Strawberry thief.  Later that afternoon the little bird rescuers came in to report to me that their patient had hopped into my window well.  I was relieved it wasn't Rider again, although it is much easier to get Rider out than a scared bird who can't fly.  We had to wait for the cavalry to arrive (Daddy to get home) and he somehow trapped it in a bucket and delivered it to the field across the street.  Luckily nobody but me heard him exclaim "okay, lets take him to the field so the kitties can eat him!"  Yikes!  How would I explain that one. 

I checked first thing this morning to see if maybe by chance he hopped back to the safety of my strawberry pot.  Apparently word travels fast in the bird world.    I noticed all his little friends were there having a feast or maybe it was a bird wake.  I allowed them this one indulgence,but I can't promise anything tomorrow. 

Feel the Love

My friend is trying her hand at photography and our kiddos were volunteered for practice.  I think this picture turned out so fabulous!  Austin is missing his two front teeth and I think he has done a nice job inventing his new smile.  Just had to share.

Thirty-nine is fine

In two-three weeks I will be turning 39.  It is dangerously close to rolling over to 40.  I remember when that 3 was a 2 and I was approaching the big 30 and wondering if I had reached any of my goals set at the tender age of 18.  I don't even have a "by the time I am 40 " list.  I am just not that kind of girl. 

I am preparing to teach a lesson in Relief Society about temples.  I had forgotten that it took 40 years to build the Salt Lake City Temple.  That number has new meaning for me.  In my current lifetime the temple that I love so much and has blessed my life so much would be in the final year of being built.  Amazing!  I can't even begin to draw comparisons about what has been built in my life over the last 39 years.  I desire so much to have something as beautiful, inside and out, as the temple to show for my life here on this earth.  I have to say we are still under construction here.  I plan to spend more time at the temple that is only 5 minutes away from my home.  I know that going to the temple is a sure place to find the peace and happiness that everyone is searching for (including me), but strangely it is usually the last or final resource after stumbling through the trials of life.  My birthday present to me is to modify that behavior.  Won't it be exciting to see what will be built over the next year?  I can't wait. 

The Long and Short

For every short story there is a longer version.  I am not very good at short stories.  I feel like I need to tell the long version for the story to make sense.  This is probably annoying to some people who are really more to the point in life.  I can appreciate this.  A simple comment of your grass sure looks nice may result in a campfire tale of how the grass came to be at our home, which in my opinion is a much more interesting.  I am sure a simple thanks would suffice in this situation, and save the poor soul who offered the compliment from a long drawn out story that really doesn't need to be told at that moment.  

The short stories to be told right now are;

We enjoyed a long bike ride around the Snake River greenbelt on Saturday with the kiddos.  Rider pedaled his little heart out on his two-wheeler with training wheels.  The water was over the sidewalk in places and he didn't even blink an eye.  Danny's favorite part:  we loaded up the bikes in the back of his beloved Orange Pumpkin truck and cruised around the greenbelt like we were the cat's meow.

I planted my garden seeds about 3 inches in the ground and wondered aloud to my farmer husband why I had not seen anything come up yet.  Yikes!  He then offered this sage advice of planting the seed about as deep as the size of the seed.  I am still holding out hope for my carrot seeds that are planted safely about 2 inches in the round. 

We played with brand new baby kitties at Grandma and Grandpa "Too's"  yesterday.  Rider launched four week old Tiger off the front porch and he indeed landed on his feet.  I am happy to report he is better trained in kitty handling now and by the time he left was placing them softly in there beds with two hands. 

We have had a patch of dirt next to our driveway for a couple years now.  We ran out of sod and then it became the favorite neighborhood digging hole.  Then a lovely bike jump was built and we didn't have the heart to take it away.  On Saturday some very generous neighbors offered us their extra sod rolls and we couldn't resist, so alas the dirt pile is gone.  We had some unhappy neighborhood friends in the 2-4 age range, so Danny built a jump for them out of old plywood and a tool box.  It worked like a dream.  I love my husband and his ingenuity. 

Austin is away for a few days.  We don't know what to do with out him.  Rider asks to go in the van about once every hour to find him.  He is the party planner of the family and we can't seem to get a good party going without him.

Danny just stopped home for a bit of oatmeal and some toast and to tell me that a conscientious neighbor had called the Norco Industrial Store (not where he works) to tell them that parking his Norco truck AND The Great Pumpkin truck on the street is a gross injustice of the Subdivision covenants (we don't have any).  I felt sad and angry and then sad again.  They are probably one of those "to the point" kind of people.  And the short version of this story for them would be that they are annoyed with a big white Ford work truck blocking their driving path and don't even get them started about the white trash orange truck. My husband's response is "wait until they see the NEW Norco truck next week!"   It's a Dodge Ram and it might as well be Christmas around here.  We are very excited, well Danny is excited and the rest of us are playing along.

That is about the Long and short of it.

The Dirt

This blog began with the debut of our humble garden among the rocks and weeds of our yard.  We mostly grew Zucchini and pumpkins.  Everything else was really not even eatable.  Then I caught the square foot gardening bug and became a devoted follower of Mel Bartholomew the inventor of the square foot gardening craze much to my husbands dismay. 

We are at it again.  I am all fired up again about my garden and I have been nursing some plant starts that I bought on mother's day.  It has been so cold we didn't dare plant anything.  Today I started to get into my beautiful dirt.  You see with Square Foot Gardening it is all about the dirt or as it is affectionately called "Mel's Mix."  I am not as converted to the dirt as I was in the beginning.  It isn't as magical as Mel made it seem.  My husband has snuck in a bunch of fertilizer and weeds actually do grow.  I am still committed to my man Mel and think this year will be the year that my little boxes bloom.  A pulled a few weeds and sprinkled some water and look what already started to grow.  I think this flower is my best work. 

We are Family

Belonging to a big family is a dream come true.   I guess belonging to a family in general can be a dream come true if it circumstances allow.  It is something I think I really want to write more about.  I love to see the children in our home begin to realize that they belong to a family with brothers, sister, grandmas and grandpas, cousins, aunts and uncles.  It feels great to be adopted into a family tree with roots that are deep and nourished.  I don't think our children will understand for a very long time that there is more to all the fun family parties that we have.  I am just now beginning to understand how it was even possible for my extended family to get together and create loving memories and traditions.  For now our kids just expect it as a part of their safe and secure environment and we are going to continue to nourish that expectation. 



Our Rider Boy turned three on Sunday.  He had two parties, one at each grandparents home.  He isn't really a big fan birthday parties, and I dare anybody to try and sing Happy Birthday to him without getting slugged.  One thing is certain--he loves to visit his grandparents and great grandparents homes.  He has his own little special traditions at each of their homes.  This year he was old enough to actually open his own birthday presents before his big brother opened them for him.  He  sat still long enough to open presents and blow out candles and then he was gone on the four wheeler with Daddy for most of the night.  Somehow we left his party last night with some Monster Trucks, a toy four wheeler, an Elmo kite, and three cousins with their jammies.  We got home at about 11 p.m.  and I think everyone finally snuggled down for the night at 12:30 a.m.  I felt overwhelmed at the idea of having six children in my home for one day and two nights, but I felt so excited and grateful for our kids to be with their family.  It is really what this life is all about.  At this point I think I would do just about anything to make sure my kids are always a part of this huge crazy family tree.  It is the only way they will be happy--I know this for certain.

Bonneville County Landfill

There is not much  my husband loves more than getting a steal of a deal.  I have learned many of his tricks of the frugal living trade in our short 4.5 years of marriage.  We disagree at times on the frugality of driving all over town to save a few pennies, but his recent bargain really makes him King Kong for a while. 

A few weeks ago he came home really excited about a silent bid going on down at the county impound.  He was particularly excited about one truck that had caught his eye.  It had all the makings of the "perfect spud harvest truck."  We are a one car family now since we sold Black Beauty, his Pontiac G6.  That really isn't a problem for us until Spud Harvest rolls around.   He went through all the highlights and low points and almost under his breath mentioned that is said "Bonneville County Landfill" on the side.  As you can probably imagine I was completely out at that point.  That is all I need a bright orange Landfill truck parked in my driveway.  There goes the neighborhood if you know what I mean. 

He put in his bid. ($256)  He carefully calculated his bid so that it was only a few dollars over what the junkyard would give him if he won and it was a total piece of junk.  The deadline came and went and I breathed a sigh of relief that he was not the winning bidder.  Then the call came in yesterday with some lame excuse like they couldn't read his phone number.  My husband was like a kid at Christmas.  He called his brother to help him go pick it up.  It just as three flat tires, a broken window, and a bit of garbage in the back--THATS ALL!  I am happy to report the Bonneville County Landfill was removed from the doors.  I feel just a smidge less white trash now.

It is proudly parked on the street to the north of our house.  I can only imagine what the neighbors are thinking.  Not only do they have to deal with the big Norco truck parked on the street, but now the Great Pumpkin has arrived. 

Popsicles

This morning I sat on the floor and ate Popsicles--the cheapo pretend Otter Pops from Winco.  I bought them a few weeks ago with a feeling of excitement for summer to arrive.  Rider has been eating them since the moment we brought them home and he has introduced Lydia to the fine art of Popsicle consumption.  She knows that you choose the color and then get the scissors and find mommy. 

It really wasn't that simple.  It all started with folding laundry and trying to remain focused to see the task through to the bitter end.  I felt determined today.  I was not distracted by the entire memory game exploded all over the floor, or the parking lot of hot wheels race cars strewn around every visible corner in my living room, or that all three of us (mommy, Rider, & Lydia) were still in jammies.   The real problem was with little miss Lydia.  Today was not her best day.  Actually she has not been herself for a few days.  I suspect she doesn't feel well and maybe she is just exercising her princess rights to be demanding--we are not sure.  It so happens that mommies have limits and mine was nearly met today.  I felt frustrated with my 13 month old daughter.  I told myself that I was a bad mom for feeling that way.  Instead of putting the laundry down I just let her back her little self up to me and plop in my lap and I showed her how I could fold underwear even with a screaming child on my lap.  Our typical scene would include Rider doing something extra naughty to send me over the proverbial top, but not today.  He assessed the scene and went and gathered Popsicles for everyone.  He even served Lydia's with a kiss and some comforting words in his little cookie monster-like voice.  I felt immediately humbled.   I will never forget this.

The Day of Rest

Our daddy is down and out with a very sore back.  He hurt it at work on Friday and has been suffering all weekend long.  It has not been the same around here without him.  He left for the doctor about 1 hour before we left for church this morning and didn't return home until after we got home.  Here is what he missed during those hours;

• Two little reverent boys waiting in the foyer of the church for Mommy and Lydia to catch up and blow in with the spring wind.  
• Lydia begging for "miiiiilllk!" the moment we sat down. Rider begging for fruit snacks the moment we sat down.  Austin begging for snacks and entertainment the moment we sat down.
• Rider eating fistfuls of pretzel sticks while rolling around the the floor smashing all the ones he dropped.
• Austin yelling at Rider during the passing of the sacrament to "leave my Sponge Bob band aid alone!"
• Lydia doing back arches and whining for "miiilllk!"  Rider doing dead fish moves while mommy tries to keep him from escaping to his favorite hangout--the drinking fountain.
• Rider went to nursery without incident and Austin to primary without complaint.
• Lydia and mommy hid out in the mother's lounge during Sunday School to call daddy and make sure he was not admitted to any local hospitals.
• Grammy saved the day and arrived just in time to scoop up sleeping Lydia while Mommy taught a lesson in Relief Society.

Daddy has been sleeping peacefully since arriving home thanks to some very effective narcotics.  We somehow managed to pass the time without his wrestling and rides on the John Deere Lawn mower today.  After a quick game of dress up everyone decided that it just wasn't any fun to be awake anymore without our number one man.  They are all sleeping peacefully and Mommy is happily returning to her old friend the blog. 

A return to my roots

It is time to start up the dialog again, or as my husband describes it "talking to myself."  As far as he is concerned this blog is a form of psychology which he is personally grateful for. It allows him to get a little more shut eye not having to listen to me each night during the final few minutes before he passes out with total exhaustion from his work day and the time when my thoughts are just beginning to bloom.  I am ready to spill out my thoughts once again in this blog that I loved so much. When I started this blog we were a small family of three and now we are five and it seems like a lifetime of learning that I am itching to share or to "talk to myself" about. Here we go and now for tonight I can get some sleep.