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.