Remember

I find myself trying to account for the last 3 months (months since my last post-shameful!).  I am tempted to sweep it out my backdoor like this morning's breakfast crumbs, but I am sure something blog worthy has happened.  I just can't recall, which sadly leads me to conclude that my writer "eye" is sadly fading.  I am no longer seeing things as a great story to tell. 

The other night I was remembering a small town I lived in during the 1rst and 2nd grade.  It seemed so magical as a child.  We lived in a new subdivision situtated on lots of open acres for playing and roaming.  I road my bike down what seemed to me at the time a giant highway to my piano teachers house.  We dressed up in our Sunday best on Tuesdays and walked to primary after school let out.  We bought penny candy at the Merrill store and ran barefoot down gravel roads.   As a young adult I once detoured off the freeway on my way back to college to visit this childhood community.  I was so sad to discover that it was practically a ghost town.  It was as if it had died when I left and nothing was ever the same.  I looked for anything familar and it seemed that nothing was even remotely the same.  I often long for things to be familar and to stay the same.

Is this what happens when we don't tell our stories and keep them alive.  It must be a reflection of my own personal weakness of being resistant to change.  I long for things to stay the same, or as I remember them.  I am afraid things are never a good as we remember them anyway.  What a terrible thing to not be able to remember the good things.  The sad truth is that things do change and all we have is our ability to remember and learn or have hope for better things. 

Long Winter

It has been a long winter in many ways.  We are grateful Santa wisely brought Patch the cat to Austin.  Patch has reluctantly agreed to be Lydia's source of winter entertainment.   We are ready for the snow to melt, by we I mean me and Patch.  That will signal a little break for both of us when everyone can go outside and play for a change.

Books I love-Little Britches

Recently I became enamored with everything ever written by Ralph Moody.  It all started when I made the decision to home school my kiddos.  I have been exploring the never ending option of how to accomplish this.  I have covered the entire gamut of stereotypical strange home school children to "is that really legal" to almost perfect fit for us.  I am still settling on what is best for me and my family, but I did have a brief love affair with Thomas Jefferson Education.  It is a very interesting theory based on teaching from the classics.  I love good book recommendations and to this point have never focused on the "classics."  Little Britches is one of the recommendations for family reading.  Ralph Moody, the author, based this story on his life story.  He leaves the "city life" when he was young and moves west with his family to a ranch.  I loved everything about this story.  I felt like I was a part of the family and I longed to know more about them.  Lucky for me there are about ten books illustrating different phases of Ralph's childhood set against the great American backdrop in the late 1800s and 1900s.  I can't put a finger on what is so fantastic about these books.  Maybe it is just the honesty of their lives.  They worked hard and suffered, but they believed in God and they believed in their family.  They were happy in good times and bad.  It is so inspiring to read later books and see the fruits of a child raised with honesty and integrity.  I can't wait until my kids are old enough to read it again with me. 

Brussel Sprouts and Sunshine

Today we waited for morning to come.  It never did it seemed, so we stayed in our jammies until we had to leave the house.  We all stumbled around in a daze.  Where did the sunshine go?  It is our clock.  It tells us when to wake up, when to eat, when to drink, when to nap, and when its bedtime.  Today it did not come and we were left to our own devices to manage our day.  We did not do so well. 

I cooked Brussel Sprouts for dinner.  They were part of my Bountiful Basket last week.  I refuse to let them go bad just because I don't know anyone who even eats Brussel Sprouts.  I searched out a recipe that appeared to bring out the best qualities in these little Green gremlins.  Something interesting occurred.  As they sauteed in a hot bath of olive oil they became very shiny and brilliantly green.  I found myself smiling.  It was the same kind of smile when I first greet the morning sunshine.  Seems so strange that these strange and smelly little veggies could bring sunshine to my day. 

Ode to Autumn

Okay, this is really not an Ode per say, but more of a bunch of pictures to illustrate autumn around our house.  We love it all! By the time Halloween (not my favorite holiday) arrives we really just get it over with, recover from the sugar coma and get on to the business of preparing for birthdays, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.  Here it is...

Austin learning to mow the lawn for the last mow of the season.

Rider and Lydia's Mommy School field trip to the Pumpkin patch.





Proof that the Princess was at the Leaf pile making party--IN THE CAR with her warm Daddy.





Our "After Potato Harvest" family trip to my favorite place Logan Utah.  My first visit in 12 years!  Wow a lot has changed.  It was so great to be there and I kept looking around every corner as if my old friends my pop out at any time.



My kids are certainly in the background of several poor brides trying to get shots on the temple grounds.



Captain America and his loot. 



Every day is Halloween around here.  Captain Underpants!

Hulk Smash and Hello Kitty ready for trick or treating.

Princess insists that Daddy paints her nails best.  We tried out the Pinterest suggestion to spray Pam spray to dry the nails and IT WORKS!

Springtime at the 1/2 acre

Yesterday we fired up the Orange Dream Machine and took a fun family outing the Pacific Steel and Recycing. What a place!  I have to tell you I had no idea such an adventure existed right in my very own city. 

I just realized after a quick review of my posts I have not really introduced you to "Orangie".  Once upon a time my husband came home very excited to tell me all about this steal of a deal he found. The county was having an auction of their older vehicles and it was our lucky day.  He put in a bid of $220 on a bright orange Oldsmobile pickup with a Bonneville County Landfill sign on the door.  He didn't feel a bit deterred by the two flat tires and the broken out drives window--easy fixes!  I will never forget the day he came home to tell me he received the winning phone call telling him to pick up his new prize.  I wouldn't be honest if I said I was happy for him.  I really didn't think he would win.  He brought it home and parked it proudly on the street to the side of our lot.  The county had graciously removed the sign from the door, but apparently didn't have time for a "proper detailen," as Mator would say.  I did my best with Clorox wipes and really just stepped aside as he tried to vacuum up, chip out, sweep, etc. dirt.   A  quick trip to the recycling place is a bit of a dream or maybe a threat of what is to come if Orangie doesn't behave himself. 

We earned a few bucks for the stuff we hauled to the recycling place--enough for drinks all around at the gas station.  Then it was back home to clean out the garage and clean out the garden.  Rider and Lydia were in heaven.  Our grand finale was a trip to the landfill since I had forgot to put our garbage out during the week. 

I think I just needed to write this to document how far I have come, or how much I have changed, or maybe how I have lowered my standards.  I am still a devout germ-a-phobe, but I really had a fun day with my little family.  Orangie has turned out to be a great adventure wagon in our lives.

From the Outstide Looking In

We live on the corner, a busy corner, to be exact.  There are many houses in the subdivision that I can go months maybe even years without ever passing by. We just happen to be near one of the three exits to our subdivision and therefore our house is passed by more frequently than some houses.  No big deal, right.  Most times the answer is yes, no big deal.  The great things about our corner are the neighbors surrounding us.  There is someone for each of our kids to play with on all sides it seems.  Summers are terrific.  Our yard has been affectionately nicknamed "Petersen Park." We don't have a fence, so the kids come and go to the swings and swimming pools freely.  Summer evenings the adults wander back and forth across the street relaxing sometimes in lawn chairs set up in driveways to keep a careful eye on kids riding bikes and trikes.  It has been a huge blessing for our family.  We wouldn't have it any other way. 

I remember about two years ago at the end of summer, well really more the beginning of fall, I was feeling very bogged down with morning sickness and caring for a toddler and kindergartner.  My husband was working in the potato harvest and for some reason at that point in our marriage it still seemed like the end of the world when he was gone for those 2 weeks.  I was changing a really nasty diaper and cursing under my breath about having to get down on the floor for the hundredth time and also having to smell the awful smell magnified by my morning sickness. For some reason my boys were not playing outside like always.  There were inside driving me nuts.  My phone rang and I waddled to find it thinking it was my husband making sure I was still alive.  It was one of my neighbors.  She wondered if everything was okay and if she needed to send her husband over.  I was still wallowing in self-pity over my current situation and assumed she meant "you poor pregnant mommy of two young boys while their daddy is away."  I think I even launched into a whole spill about "Ya, I am fine.  I am just so sick, bla bla bla."  There was a bit of silence on the other end.  I felt embarrassed about going on and on.  Then my neighbor asked if I had looked outside.  I quickly opened the front door to see 3 police cruisers with what seemed like 7-10 teenagers handcuffed in strategic positions around my yard.  Then I looked out my back window to see even more police vehicles and three teenagers on my back step being handcuffed.  Seeing the look of horror on my face a kind, but a little impatient deputy quickly came to me to give me the run down.  Basically an after school fight had been scheduled in the church parking lot that borders our back yard.  The fight spilled over into our yard and bla bla bla they would be out of there as quickly as they could.  I shut the door and mumbled to my neighbor on the phone something crazy and said I would call back.  I quickly called my husband in hysterics and told him he better come home immediately because it was a scene from Cops in our yard. 

This is a long one.  I apologize.  It is my therapy--give me a break.

We stayed in our jammies this morning.  Everyone has different degrees of a cold or the flu.  It is a dreary February day.  The kitchen sink overfloweth and I haven't even put a bra on.  One of THOSE days.  The doorbell rang this morning and Rider raced to open it before I could give him the "don't you dare open that door" eye.  I had no choice but to answer the door in all my glory.  There was a nice little Bonneville County Deputy.  I knew immediately the purpose of his visit.  He was anxious to take care of business and be on his way.  He was just as embarrassed by my appearance as I was I am sure.  We have had an ongoing power struggle with an "anonymous" resident of our subdivision.  He is not happy that we park our vehicle on the side of our road.  Over a month ago a poor little deputy had to visit us over the same issue.  The truth is that we don't really have anywhere ideal to park it right now.  It isn't bothering anyone where it is currently parked except for this miserable human being.  He won't let up and he keeps sending these poor deputies to my door and quite frankly they are probably wondering if I ever get dressed.  We chatted and basically agreed that we are not doing anything wrong, but to keep this guy from driving everyone nuts we need to do something.  Again, a phone call went in immediately to the husband.  I reminded him that it is not in our family motto to be a neighborhood annoyance and something to the effect of take CARE OF IT NOW!  He laughed and said I should write about it on my blog and maybe I would feel better.  I hung up. 

Then the final straw.  My neighbor who I love and quite frankly during the summer I am happier because we talk on a daily basis while out children run wild.  She knocked on my door to "see if I was okay" because "I heard there were police cars at your house."  My friend from a neighboring subdivision noticed through the field that separates our subdivisions that their was a  police car at our home.  She called the relief society president who then called my poor friend to go immediately to my home to make sure all was well at our home.  Again, I was answering my door in all my glory.  It has not been an ideal day, but I am happy once again for our strategic position in this neighborhood.  We are loved and watch over even if we are the neighbors with the ugly truck parked on the road. Did I ever write about the ugly truck?  That is a story that needs to be told.  I better do a little research and make sure I haven't already ranted about the truck.  I am just waiting to see or hear from more neighbors passing by in cars or who talked to so and so and is everything okay.  I better just go put on a bra.

***  This was written completely for therapy purposes.  I didn't even read through it!  Keep that in mind.

Dear Lydia

Thank you for still making me feel like you can't live without me.  I know that is not at all important in the grand plan to train you to be a fantastic human being.  When you bang into the wall because you are throwing us that "I am so important" look, or when you  fall off the chair because you were trying to be big like your brothers and jump off, or when you fall off your step stool when you are trying to do step aerobics with me in the basement, I love it when you cling to me as if I hold the magic to make all things better. 

I know you love your daddy and he is no doubt your vehicle to all that is fun and adventurous.  He loves to tell you stories and teach you how to fix things and there is really nothing more cute than seeing you with your brother's pretend tools trying to fix things.  You remind me daily when things are dropped or broken, like the ceramic soccer ball at the dollar store today, that "its okay mom."  You are absolutely right; it is okay.  Who even buys those tacky things?  Thank you for understanding that mommy is not as easy going as daddy and still loving me.  If it makes you feel any better I was just as disappointed when Rider dropped the garden mirror ball thingy at Town and Country Gardens last year.  You were just a baby and probably don't remember.  I am pretty sure you were the cuteness that got us out of that pickle.  I am slow at learning that it really is okay.  Thank you for teaching me.  I love you more than dollar store tacky things and perfectly organized bookshelves.  

Join the Club

If you are looking for a club to join then look no further.  We have one right here in our very own home.  Rider is currently not a member due to the current "rules."  We are appealing to the president, but he is firm about the rules and as a resident of this home I can't say I blame him.  He has been the unfortunate recipient of the previously mentioned kicking, hitting, punching , and head butting more times than any of us care to remember. 

This week we will be learning the letter W and the number 2 and refining the art of acceptance into big brother's club. 

Courage

There we were smack dab in the center of the noisy YMCA gym.  There were screaming parents, coaches, and pee wee basketball players in all directions.  Against my better judgment I signed up my 3 almost 4 year old for pee wee basketball AND to top it off I volunteered my husband to be the coach.  Their first practice/game was this week.  There was a tiny bit of anxiety swirling around in my already cluttered brain in the weeks leading up to game one.  My concerns were mostly for my husband coaching the 7 little pee wees with nothing more than his fantastic high school basketball career and the title of "daddy" to the youngest pee wee on the team. 

I received a lot of encouragement from veteran pee wee parents and the nice lady from the Y who called to "beg'' us to volunteer to be the coach.  How hard could this be?  My husband chooses to avoid all interpersonal communications or "chit-chat" as he calls it.  Therefore, I am the Public Relations representative in this family.  I knew I didn't know a thing about coaching basketball, but I could be obedient to the meager instructions from the email send by nice YMCA lady.  I called all the parents to introduce myself/my husband-The Coach.  Then I googled coaching Pee Wee basketball and came up with all kinds of strategies.  We could do this!

On the big day all forces were at work against us.  I tried to give my little pee wee a nap knowing that would ensure more cooperation in his big new adventure.  Alas, no nap.  He seemed to be working up to a dooser of a sleep deprived melt down, but I tried to reassure myself that maybe he was past that stage.   He was ready for the big league of YMCA team sports I kept telling myself.  As the clock ticked down I re-read the googled pee-wee basketball drills and said a little prayer.   I told the coach he had to be home by 5 p.m. so we could be there by 5:20 to pick up the team t-shirts and get our game faces on .  I agreed to watch a friends little boy after school who would be picked up by 5 p.m.  No problem!  We could do this. 

Now, it is a whirlwind in my mind.  I remember the clock ticking loudly to 5:15 p.m.  The coach swooped in and loaded the pee wee and his older brother to race to the YMCA.   I made a split second decision and stayed behind with my little after school charge and put in a frantic call to Grammy for a ride since the coach raced away in our only vehicle.  At this point I could feel the blood pumping in my ears, but I remained calm.  My friend did not show up to collect her son, so I threw him in the back seat of grammy's car along with my princess Lydia.  We were off at 6 p.m. sharp.  I could make it for the last 30 min. 

Then the call came in from the COACH.  He said some to the effect that "this is a joke-and we are on our way home."  Yikes!  "Remain calm" I chanted to myself as the blood pumped louder and harder.  At this point it was a scene from I love Lucy as I traded phone calls back and forth with the Coach and the mom whose child I was babysitting.  All this while Grammy was driving around my little three person circus and not complaining even once.  I passed the coach as we were pulling into the YMCA parking lot.  He reluctantly turned around and parked.  I tried to steady my voice as I calmly asked, who is coaching the team?  He assured me that some mom had jumped in to save the day.  She is forever my hero!  My little pee wee with swollen red eyes showed me his new orange t-shirt with the big number 4 on the back and asked me to go play basketball with him.  I quickly and politely shuffled my friends little boy , who at this point thinks he is coming to the Y to shoot some hoops, into his waiting father's truck. 

My stomach was churning as I tried to enthusiastically help my pee wee and the coach out of the van and back into the gym.  I could sense their anxiety, which seemed to be feeding off each other.  I knew the coach would rather paint his toenails pink than coach a pee wee team.  I also knew that my pee wee just wanted to play some basket ball with his family and would be complete overwhelmed with all the noise and chaos of team sports.  I chose this for them and I felt responsible.   

Remember my hero, the mom who saved the day.  Well, she was a genius with my pee wee.  She helped him get over his anxiety and helped pull him from the sidelines.  She made sure he got to have the ball and he even made a shot.  I wish I could have got a picture of his face as he ran back and forth with his team.  He was crying and scowling, but couldn't resist the fun he was starting to have.  The coach is my secret hero in this whole business.  He later shared with me that he was the recipient of the epic meltdown I knew was coming from pee wee.  The coach did his best to face his fears and coach the pee wees, but our little pee wee was screaming and crying and refused to be comforted.  He shared with me that at one point Rider tried to make a shot and another pee wee stole the ball out of his hand.  He said I knew at that point it was over and there was no turning back.  Both coach and pee wee share a dislike for lots of noise and commotion and social situations, especially new ones. 

As I stood there feeling piously mortified my feelings changed to humilty.  I felt humbled by the weakness of two of the loves of my life.  At first I couldn't understand why they couldn't just get over it, whatever it may be, and make the best of things.  I realized that I had shoved them into this situation.  They trusted me enough to follow along with my hair-brain scheme and I felt like I had let them down.  I also felt very proud of each of them for doing the hard things in life.  It made me think of the talk that I mentioned,  Living the Abudant Life by President Thomas S. Monson.  He concludes this talk with  "Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, “I’ll try again tomorrow.”"  To this I say amen and my thoughts exactly.   As for pee wee basket ball, we shall see what the future holds.

A First

I have no real explanation for the time between posts.  I have had plenty to write about, but I seem to get caught up in the day to day stuff and by the time I can sit down to write about an adventure I just don't have the energy to relive it. 

My blog posts are not journal entries anymore, so I really need to dig down deep and start writing rather than just journaling the day to day  ( or month to month) events of my family.  I really need a place now to write what I think and feel.  I don't make New Year's Resolutions.  It has never been my habit, but if I did make one it would be in the department of improving my creative writing.  Sometimes I just can't resist sharing the funny things that happen with my kiddos and I intend to post pictures and little movie clips to my hearts content, but I am making a choice to try to write more what I think and feel. 



We just celebrated our five-year anniversary over the New Year's weekend.  It is a first for us.  Never before have we made an effort to observe our anniversary complete with an overnight babysitter for our kids.  It was a conscious choice on my part to celebrate.  It all started a few weeks ago with the arrival of my January Ensign.  The first article I read was What Happily Married Couples Do by Douglas Brinley.  I read it and reread it and made my husband listen as I read it to him.  It is full of really practical and truthful counsel.  Now on this side of the celebration I am so grateful we did.  I can see the importance good memories and special effort to spend time together.  We made some wonderful memories. 

My parents shared with us a little gift package that my dad had won through his work.  It was good for one night stay at a local hotel, movie tickets (complete with popcorn and drinks), and dinner at Famous Daves. Grammy bravely agreed to keep Rider and Lydia over night ( a first for them and ME).  Austin stayed with Grandma Peggy for lots of cousin time, which he loves most in life.  We had some time before we passed off our kiddos to Grammy, so we decided to check in early and let them swim.  We now know that it would have been enough to just let them ride the elevator a few times, eat the complimentary cookies and jump on the beds.  It was almost better than Christmas for them.  The hotel pool was being remodeled so we trudged across the property to a neighboring hotel that was sharing their pool.  I declined to suit up and left it to my hero husband.  The shallow end was 3 feet, so we spent our time at the jacuzzi walking around the built in benches.  Lydia lost her footing and went backwards under the water.  I was sure she was drowning and jumped in to save her IN MY JEANS AND SWEATER.  The pool party ended at that point.  I pouted like a wet cat all the way back to our hotel.  This didn't dampen the spirits of our little ones.  They got to eat more warm cookies and ride the elevator until it was time to go to Grammys. 

I fought with myself over pouting and ruining our evening and just trying to find the humor.  Thanks to my husband the humor won.  I bought a new "outfit" at Target and we went about our evening.  Dinner was so great and the movie was not terrific, but it was fun to go to a grown up movie.  I had to make little decisions all night long to enjoy the moment with my husband and not miss my babies.  It is evidence to me that I need to allow them time away from me more.  Lydia was fine because she will take my mom in place of me almost always, Rider I was worried about.  I knew his head was dancing with the fun he could be having at the "hotel home."  I couldn't stop worrying about him all night.  I am really a little ashamed to say that I snuck out at 6:30 a.m. and went and picked them up.  My parent's home is just two blocks away from the hotel.  I brought them back to have the great of adventure of eating breakfast at the hotel and watch cartoons while jumping back and forth on the beds.  They were so happy!  My husband, not so happy with me, but he indulged me. 

All this jabber jabber, and what is it that I feel?  I am in a constant state of choosing.  It is that beautiful gift of agency that was given to each person.  There are a million significant and insignificant choices throughout a day.  I feel like I am refining my ability to tune into the "better choice."  I want for my me and my family to have a trail of wonderful choices leading to wonderful memories even when there may be obstacles.   That leads me to my next favorite article Living the Abundant Life by Thomas S. Monson.  I will have to save that for my next (hopefully less than two months) post.

Warm Chocolate Chip Cookies and Wet child is not a good choice!

This should have been our first warning as Lydia began rolling into the water.  She was getting alittle too comfortable.

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.