I curse sugar and candy and the chocolate drool. I gave all the rest of the candy away to a neighbor today and it felt wonderful. My daughter stayed home sick today from school. I can't help but notice a pattern of my kids having sugar and getting sick. My carpet had to be cleaned anyways, but after candy messes and chocolate there is no question.
Teeth have to be brushed three times a day for the whole week and fluoride is a must after just one day of candy. I only got four hours of sleep last night (up with kids, then insomnia) so I tried to sleep a little this morning and woke up to the messes mess everywhere. My baby can't help but find candy when her siblings have it strewn all over and she sucks on it then spits it out drooling all over the place.
There was jam spilled on the counter, the pork and beans from the crock pot to be put into containers and refrigerated. When I went to wash the big pots and pans I found I was out of dish soap. Toys, wrappers, eggs, its so tempting to hide out in my room. I'm teaching the kids to help out, but sometimes it is more work, even though I know it will pay off in the end. I'm definitely looking forward to my night out tomorrow.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
My family's house
The home I lived in for 10 years and my parents still lived in for another 10 years is for sale. I cried the other day when I passed it. It needs to be a home used and loved and filled with family. Why does it bother me so much I ask myself? Then I realize I have so many, many memories, and it was a home hand built and put together by my parents. I remember while we lived in the rental house for a year the architect coming all the time changing this or that adding a greenhouse, putting the laundry room upstairs, raising the ceilings.
I remember the summer before we moved in going over with my parents and doing our part to help in the building, even if it was sweeping up the sawdust or helping to hammer in a nail. Going over to check on the house every week and seeing the new changes and development and my mom being so concerned because the railing wasn’t up yet in the living room or on the stairs. Of course that is also the time my little sister was running through the open walls and a nail completely cut her knee and she had to have stitches and has a battle scar from the experience.
I remember moving in soon as the upstairs was done, and it did have everything; a family room, living room, laundry three bedrooms, kitchen and two bathrooms. I shared a queen size bed with my three sisters. It was o.k., but it wore on me I went to my parents in tears, I wasn’t sleeping and I hated being kicked during the night and I felt too mature for my silly little sisters. I proposed that I sleep in the basement. Anything had to be better then sharing a bed. There were spiders, open unfinished walls, cement floors and big black windows. My mom helped me put a blanket over the window and I had a twin size bed, a little dresser and put a blanket on the floor and I lived like that for six months.
I would go out in the yard with my dad and take a turn swirling the seeds around for a clover yard, apparently that would help the lawn be thick and prepare the ground for the lawn. I think we had a clover yard for a year or two before he put down grass seed. My dad loved plants and boy did he plant; There was the large tree in the front, the bushes, ground cover, the orchids, the peach tree, walnut trees, the grapevines that completely cover the chain link fence in front, the aspen grove and the pussywillow tree, the rubarb plants, the blackberry and raspberry bushes, the two hills with a variety of plants and flowers. The 150 apple trees behind the house and the vegetable garden he planted on the side of the house and the plants he put between the apple trees when they were still young.
I remember hearing my parents discuss the playset and surprising us with it. A strong sturdy metal set we would play on for hours. We would be pirates avoiding the sharks in the grassy waters, we’d talk, swing, slide. Even as a teenager and coming home for a break from collage I would swing while the sun was setting on one side, the mountains and trees on the other. We would play volleyball with other teenagers as we grew up in the yard in front. In the back there was a little hill and a slight dip that I hated mowing, but was so fun to run down that hill or have a little hill to sled on. When it rained a lot or when the snow melted we’d have almost a little pond to splash or float things on.
My mom put up curtains and blinds, pictures, carpet for each room. We had a large bulletin board and white board where our art work would be displayed, family councils recorded, job assignments put. Then of course there was the deck that was added on to the back and a shed built underneath it. I was paid $50.00 one year for girls camp to stain the whole deck. We had so many Sunday dinners there. I would curl up in my warm flannel blanket and sit on the lawn chair during the thunderstorms, smelling the musk and watching the storm clouds and admire my wonderful mountains.
There was the green house, I remember helping my dad to lay bricks on the earth for flooring, there were hand built shelves for the weird and exotic plants, ferns and flowers my dad had, even a full lemon tree was planted, avacado plants too. There was a fan and it was always warm even in the winter. I often would go mist all the plants as one of my favorite chores. It also shared as a weight room when my brother got into highschool basketball.
Our cherry small grand piano sat in the livingroom next to the bay window that viewed Timpanogas mountain. There I cheated my mom of her kitchen help by luring myself away with songs on the piano, how could my mother deny the music I wished to practice? How many concerts for grandparents and guests did my siblings and I perform there in that room? I helped put up the wall paper for one of my rooms, I’d change from sharing a room to having my own room off and on. There was the large storage room with shelves installed just for food storage.
Of course there was the garage, hardly ever used for a garage no matter how many times our mom had family cleaning there, if it wasn’t crowded with stuff, it was crowded with apples to store, sale, or give away. So many wonderful memories and so many associations. Yet, where my parents are is where their family home is. It was a split level home and a whole flight of stairs to get to the kitchen, even to get to the front door there were several porch steps (that I hated cleaning off in the winter). It got harder and harder on my grandparents and then on my mother to go up those stairs. It made perfect sense when they sold it and moved into my grandmothers house, also a home my mother help build and made with love and purpose. I hope a family will buy it and love and appreciate it enjoying similar memories to mine. I have my memories, and maybe I’ll go by and put a few pictures to go with these words.
I remember the summer before we moved in going over with my parents and doing our part to help in the building, even if it was sweeping up the sawdust or helping to hammer in a nail. Going over to check on the house every week and seeing the new changes and development and my mom being so concerned because the railing wasn’t up yet in the living room or on the stairs. Of course that is also the time my little sister was running through the open walls and a nail completely cut her knee and she had to have stitches and has a battle scar from the experience.
I remember moving in soon as the upstairs was done, and it did have everything; a family room, living room, laundry three bedrooms, kitchen and two bathrooms. I shared a queen size bed with my three sisters. It was o.k., but it wore on me I went to my parents in tears, I wasn’t sleeping and I hated being kicked during the night and I felt too mature for my silly little sisters. I proposed that I sleep in the basement. Anything had to be better then sharing a bed. There were spiders, open unfinished walls, cement floors and big black windows. My mom helped me put a blanket over the window and I had a twin size bed, a little dresser and put a blanket on the floor and I lived like that for six months.
I would go out in the yard with my dad and take a turn swirling the seeds around for a clover yard, apparently that would help the lawn be thick and prepare the ground for the lawn. I think we had a clover yard for a year or two before he put down grass seed. My dad loved plants and boy did he plant; There was the large tree in the front, the bushes, ground cover, the orchids, the peach tree, walnut trees, the grapevines that completely cover the chain link fence in front, the aspen grove and the pussywillow tree, the rubarb plants, the blackberry and raspberry bushes, the two hills with a variety of plants and flowers. The 150 apple trees behind the house and the vegetable garden he planted on the side of the house and the plants he put between the apple trees when they were still young.
I remember hearing my parents discuss the playset and surprising us with it. A strong sturdy metal set we would play on for hours. We would be pirates avoiding the sharks in the grassy waters, we’d talk, swing, slide. Even as a teenager and coming home for a break from collage I would swing while the sun was setting on one side, the mountains and trees on the other. We would play volleyball with other teenagers as we grew up in the yard in front. In the back there was a little hill and a slight dip that I hated mowing, but was so fun to run down that hill or have a little hill to sled on. When it rained a lot or when the snow melted we’d have almost a little pond to splash or float things on.
My mom put up curtains and blinds, pictures, carpet for each room. We had a large bulletin board and white board where our art work would be displayed, family councils recorded, job assignments put. Then of course there was the deck that was added on to the back and a shed built underneath it. I was paid $50.00 one year for girls camp to stain the whole deck. We had so many Sunday dinners there. I would curl up in my warm flannel blanket and sit on the lawn chair during the thunderstorms, smelling the musk and watching the storm clouds and admire my wonderful mountains.
There was the green house, I remember helping my dad to lay bricks on the earth for flooring, there were hand built shelves for the weird and exotic plants, ferns and flowers my dad had, even a full lemon tree was planted, avacado plants too. There was a fan and it was always warm even in the winter. I often would go mist all the plants as one of my favorite chores. It also shared as a weight room when my brother got into highschool basketball.
Our cherry small grand piano sat in the livingroom next to the bay window that viewed Timpanogas mountain. There I cheated my mom of her kitchen help by luring myself away with songs on the piano, how could my mother deny the music I wished to practice? How many concerts for grandparents and guests did my siblings and I perform there in that room? I helped put up the wall paper for one of my rooms, I’d change from sharing a room to having my own room off and on. There was the large storage room with shelves installed just for food storage.
Of course there was the garage, hardly ever used for a garage no matter how many times our mom had family cleaning there, if it wasn’t crowded with stuff, it was crowded with apples to store, sale, or give away. So many wonderful memories and so many associations. Yet, where my parents are is where their family home is. It was a split level home and a whole flight of stairs to get to the kitchen, even to get to the front door there were several porch steps (that I hated cleaning off in the winter). It got harder and harder on my grandparents and then on my mother to go up those stairs. It made perfect sense when they sold it and moved into my grandmothers house, also a home my mother help build and made with love and purpose. I hope a family will buy it and love and appreciate it enjoying similar memories to mine. I have my memories, and maybe I’ll go by and put a few pictures to go with these words.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
My night off
My husband and I decided to try something new, once a week, every Tuesday I will have a night off to do whatever I want. I did it for the first time yesterday and it was so freeing and so wonderful. I almost didn't know what to do with myself. I was so excited and energized about it, I cleaned the whole house even the kid's rooms, laundry, paid bills and made homemade pizza for dinner (even gave myself time to blog).
First, I stopped by a friends and we made arrangements for me to take her to Costco next Tuesday. I went to the library and browsed and actually took the time to research on the computer books of authors I like and I was able to find two more books on tape that I am so excited to listen to. I picked out age appropriate books for the kids (books I would enjoy reading with them too).
It took less time then I thought so I starting driving to ShopKo for some Easter toys for the kids then saw a store I'd never been to, but heard about (Honk's). I stopped inside and got all my shopping done, just wandering through the store, everything was inexpensive so I didn't mind picking up a pair of needed sunglasses for myself or a scented candle, a flashlight whatever I wanted.
I got back to the car and it was still only 8:00, I didn't want to go home before the kids were in bed so I just started driving, thinking of a treat I could get for myself to end the night and saw Jumba Juice. A delicious, guilt-free treat. Wonderful, so I got out of the car, read every item on the menu debated back and forth in my mind for as long as I wanted and decided on a berry delight and an orange,mango,banana juice. I came home, enjoyed half of a Harry Potter movie with my husband then went to bed at a decent hour. What a wonderful thing to have discovered, so wonderful psychologically for me. A perfect evening.
First, I stopped by a friends and we made arrangements for me to take her to Costco next Tuesday. I went to the library and browsed and actually took the time to research on the computer books of authors I like and I was able to find two more books on tape that I am so excited to listen to. I picked out age appropriate books for the kids (books I would enjoy reading with them too).
It took less time then I thought so I starting driving to ShopKo for some Easter toys for the kids then saw a store I'd never been to, but heard about (Honk's). I stopped inside and got all my shopping done, just wandering through the store, everything was inexpensive so I didn't mind picking up a pair of needed sunglasses for myself or a scented candle, a flashlight whatever I wanted.
I got back to the car and it was still only 8:00, I didn't want to go home before the kids were in bed so I just started driving, thinking of a treat I could get for myself to end the night and saw Jumba Juice. A delicious, guilt-free treat. Wonderful, so I got out of the car, read every item on the menu debated back and forth in my mind for as long as I wanted and decided on a berry delight and an orange,mango,banana juice. I came home, enjoyed half of a Harry Potter movie with my husband then went to bed at a decent hour. What a wonderful thing to have discovered, so wonderful psychologically for me. A perfect evening.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Sidewalk chalk poem
I was outside decorating our drive way with the kids and wrote this:
The blue sky above
swallows the earth
Misty clouds sweep shadows of
lumbering giants on the mountains
Refreshing smells of spring blow
chilly air through my frame
The blue sky above
swallows the earth
Misty clouds sweep shadows of
lumbering giants on the mountains
Refreshing smells of spring blow
chilly air through my frame
Monday, March 17, 2008
New perspective
I'm getting out of my rut, I'm feeling such better, just one of those temporary set backs you experience sometimes. I'm putting some new perspectives in my life, focusing on one thing at a time, sometimes when I look at all the areas in my life I feel like I'm failing, then I get discouraged but if I can focus on just one of those things that I would like to improve and work on that it does help me feel better that I am progressing in that thing and then work on these failings one thing at a time.
I appreciate my Aunt Liz's putting together a biggest loser contest, one of my big goals I need to put in priority now is working on my health, so it would be a good challenge and only help me with positive changes I am already working on, though I don't know about any marathons in my future, I've never been able to run, but I can certainly exercise and eat right.
I also feel really positive as a mother if I am taking the time one on one with my children to let them know how much I love them and teach them about Jesus Christ. One of my writing challenges is to write some prose or a story about the true meaning of Easter and Christmas and submit it somewhere. I like to buy books for my children at holidays and I am saddened by the lack of books about Christ at Christmas time and Easter. Even if they would take a hymn or children's song and put illustrations to it I would buy that book. There is often so much distraction from the true meanings of these holidays I like to, as their parent focus on Jesus Christ.
Thank you for your comments during this rut time, it is nice to feel support and love.
I appreciate my Aunt Liz's putting together a biggest loser contest, one of my big goals I need to put in priority now is working on my health, so it would be a good challenge and only help me with positive changes I am already working on, though I don't know about any marathons in my future, I've never been able to run, but I can certainly exercise and eat right.
I also feel really positive as a mother if I am taking the time one on one with my children to let them know how much I love them and teach them about Jesus Christ. One of my writing challenges is to write some prose or a story about the true meaning of Easter and Christmas and submit it somewhere. I like to buy books for my children at holidays and I am saddened by the lack of books about Christ at Christmas time and Easter. Even if they would take a hymn or children's song and put illustrations to it I would buy that book. There is often so much distraction from the true meanings of these holidays I like to, as their parent focus on Jesus Christ.
Thank you for your comments during this rut time, it is nice to feel support and love.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
One of those ruts
I haven't been writing for a while, been in one of those wonderful depressing ruts where you just sort of live your life from the outside looking in like you aren't the person you see in the mirror or goes about doing all the tasks and routines you do each day. Where motivation, meaning and purpose in life have just taken a vacation and your left floundering drowning in the mess if your disorganization, grumbling unfinished thoughts, feeling like you've blotched every role, responsiblity, opportunity, talent you might have had in life. Your doing your best but you don't know why you try anymore or why you are so busy doing what you do.
I'm learning I need to be more independant emotionally. I so dependant on others: my husband, my writing group, friends to validate, encourage me to help me feel special and I am of worth. So when my husband is working extreem hours, I'm home with sick children and I feel so alone I have to face myself and then I don't know if I am who I want to be and I'm not sure if I know what that is. Its competely confusing to me to try and figure out myself I don't know how anyone could even begin to try and figure out another person.
Of course I don't feel this way all the time, I go through valley's and hills and lately I've been stuck in a rut and realizing I need to somehow get out. Of course because I am home and my world is so limited at times I think I get weird and so when I try to talk to friends or others I talk too much or say odd things and push people away or anyways I just found I need to talk to have some social conversations before I become completely odd and turn into a complete hermit. Its just one of those ruts we all eventually get out of. I already feel better just writing and trying to write out what I have felt at times.
I'm learning I need to be more independant emotionally. I so dependant on others: my husband, my writing group, friends to validate, encourage me to help me feel special and I am of worth. So when my husband is working extreem hours, I'm home with sick children and I feel so alone I have to face myself and then I don't know if I am who I want to be and I'm not sure if I know what that is. Its competely confusing to me to try and figure out myself I don't know how anyone could even begin to try and figure out another person.
Of course I don't feel this way all the time, I go through valley's and hills and lately I've been stuck in a rut and realizing I need to somehow get out. Of course because I am home and my world is so limited at times I think I get weird and so when I try to talk to friends or others I talk too much or say odd things and push people away or anyways I just found I need to talk to have some social conversations before I become completely odd and turn into a complete hermit. Its just one of those ruts we all eventually get out of. I already feel better just writing and trying to write out what I have felt at times.
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