Spring Breakaway

I have come a long way from Los Lunas. Long drive, lotsa movies and stupid Dora chants, and one close call with a policeman in Overgard. (I batted my eyelashes and got out scott-free...just kidding...about the eyelashes). After that my mom and kids kept telling me how to drive and now I charge a quarter for each "well-intentioned direction."
We stopped in Payson for pizza at a super yummy, somewhat fancy place, can't remember the name, where we smuggled in chicken nuggets and a hamburger for the kids. I taught Jacob how to eat his hamburger from under a napkin whenever the waitress was not around. It was only slightly successful.
I met up with Amanda and her family in Chandler. Jacob was in boy heaven - guns, army humvees with men to go in them, cars galore, and very imaginative playmates - and Bekah loved playing with Madison. She even got in on the war games with the boys. Amanda gave Beau a box to hold cars and he was a happy camper too. We hung out, played, and guarded the fridge from Hayden. Man does he love frozen pizza in the morning. Or anything in the morning, as long as it's not what I'm making.
Did I mention my mom was with me? She flew to Albuquerque just to drive back to Sierra Vista with me. Crazy lady! It was her birthday Sunday and so she came along so we* could all sing properly to her.
(*we means Amanda and family, Casey, Jeri and kids, Jerry, Kim and kids, and Grandma and Grandpa with the Gum, as Bekah calls them because they give her gum. It's not an indian name. Or a reference to deteriorating teeth)
My cousin Kenna is a pie making fool. We hit her up for pie crust making tips and her berry white chocolate pie recipe. Can I just say YUM?! Tom, you totally missed out.
Yesterday I took Amanda's kids to Sweet Cakes in Mesa where I bought them each a cookie as big as their face. Big enough most of them couldn't even ask for more. I had a homemade Oreo that had green filling for St. Patty's Day. Amanda and my mom were turned off by the green. Definitely no Irish blood in them. Bekah, on the other had, is super gung-ho about this very important upcoming holiday. She is very insistent that we go to the dollar store and get decorations for Grandma's house.
Then, after saying bye and buying something special for my friend Taffy at Ikea, we took the world's longest drive down to Tucson. I'd tell you all about it but my mom made me shake hands and swear I'd never mention it again. We met up with Gina, Tyler's friend at a pizza restaurant where Tyler moonlights as chief pizza maker. She was great, the food was good, and my kids loved watching Tyler behind the glass partition. He would throw the dough up against the glass and puff flour on them, and Jacob would say, "Tyler, do you know I love you?" and "Tyler do you know you're awesome?" and then Tyler would blush and smile. Oh I have the best brothers! Tyler might even be my favorite.
And now I'm home. The home where I'm surrounded by my mom's beautiful and comfortable style and where my dad leaves my favorite almond crescents from the German bakery on my bed. The home with the pink robe and purple hair towel that are waiting for me after I relax in my mom's giant jetted tub, and where my kids can fight over the dozens of Chevron cars that are property of Amanda, but reside here.
And now I really must go. I'm super busy, you can see, trying to catch up on all the relaxing I've missed.
Chow (how do you spell that?), Bella.

My mom should have told me...

...that when I go to recover my piano bench, if I use my staple gun to attach the fabric on the bottom of the 3/8" board, I will feel the 1/4" staples through the foam and fabric when I sit on the bench. It is pretty though, right? And now it's a kind of torture device to deter my children from playing the piano. "You want to play? Go ahead, kneel on the bench, climb on up!" AAHHH!Oh well. It's out of tune anyway. Sigh.
I am currently on a cleaning binge. "Currently" meaning today, this morning, right now, due to end in approximately one hour. The whole bench fiasco kind of took the wind out of me, but maybe after lunch I can still tackle...something. As I was cleaning my room today I took a good look at the shelf on one of my walls. Look with me, see if you notice anything unusual...
Okay, good, good, a little cluttered, but good (that's my mom, so cute, her high school grad picture). The heart hanging below says, "I love you more today than yesterday...yesterday you really got on my nerves."Not too bad...the birdhouse got put there as an afterthought and then never taken down; the pictures are curled up and need to be replaced, but still okay...BAM! What is that?! Lava lamp. Kerosene lamp. Ammo. It's like Rus is creeping his stuff onto my nice shelf. Claiming ownership. Marking territory.
With what?! Really, what is that stuff?!Does this strike anyone else as funny?
If you'll notice, Rus also left his mark on top of my piano. Do you see it? Such a decorating sense, that one.

Casualties of Monday

The yearbook is due to be finished, finishio, this Friday. It's the yearbook for Bekah's elementary school, the one I've been working on since the beginning of January. I don't have a ton left, but just enough that if I don't spend every possible, semi-guilt-ridden moment doing it, I'm afraid I won't be done in time, or worse, that it will get done but look crappy.
Jacob got strep throat over the weekend. He is a miserable sick person, and no matter how many times I tell him, he still doesn't understand that crying makes his throat worse, not better. Jacob started tball yesterday. We bought him a glove (he's a lefty), Beau picked out some tballs, and we came home eager to try it all out. I showed him how to throw and step with his opposite foot, and then distanced myself so he could practice catching. I threw the ball and hit him in the eye. He cried. He got over it when we were inside and his glove was in time-out. We went to tball practice later. It was super windy and freezing. Jacob lasted four minutes. He cried, wouldn't tell anyone his name, and ran back to the van the second we were dismissed, just fifteen minutes later. I tried to convince him he'd have fun next time, but it sounded kind of lame. Yay for tball.
Beau decided to get a fever yesterday afternoon, too. I spent the rest of the evening, even the two hours it took to get him to sleep, convincing myself that it wasn't strep. And would you believe, this morning, no fever. Just a natural 98.6 degree grumpiness. The power of positive thinking. Anywho...while I was working on the yearbook he entertained himself very well...he colored the light blue-gingham checked chair in my bedroom green. Kind of green-scribbley. I'd be mad, but he covered up the chocolate stains he put there a month ago, so in a way he did me a service.
We have a fourth child, did you know? He's the devil child, the one that eats your loofah and then steals pancakes off the counter. The one that follows all the other kids around, taunting them until you hear a chorus of "NO!" "Colonel!" "AAAAHHH!" He's the one who gets complained about first to Rus on the phone when he asks how my day was. He's the one who is locked outside today.
Anyway...Rus worked on his rack for his motorcycle. I worked on the yearbook. We took turns rocking Beau to sleep. We said hi to each other at 9:30, and goodnight at 10:00.
Just another manic Monday.

A Published Writer...Using the term loosely...

Back in September Rus and I took the kids to the Salman Raspberry Ranch outside of Santa Fe. While we were busy picking (and sampling) raspberries, a woman came up and asked if she could take some pictures for a family magazine based out of Santa Fe. I said of course, even though my kids were super dirty (not kidding, we'd been camping and hiking and riding in the car with suckers...I'm sure there were boogers, too). I asked her about the magazine, and when I got home I looked it up online, where I found that they take article contributions. They are a quarterly publication, so I looked forward to the next deadline and decided that I would send in some essays (why not?!)
So I did, she liked them and decided to publish two of them together, and now I'm famous.
Right?
Right.
You'll be able to look them up online tomorrow (hopefully) at this website, but until then I thought I'd post what I wrote here for you to read/enjoy/hopefully.

Camping with kids is an unnecessary abandonment of most modern conveniences. Beds, a fridge, bathrooms…these things are taken for granted in all the day to day bustle of work, school, and play. But there comes a time when despite all the inconvenience, a family simply gets tired of living in a house and cannot resist for one more second the urge to just pack up and run away. It may be primal instinct, or if you’re like my son Jacob, you might just want to get out, pee on a tree, and commune with the stars. My daughter Bekah is a girly-girl in every way, yet even she cannot resist the appeal of a chair next to a campfire and marshmallows on a stick despite the inevitable lingering smell of smoke in her clothes and hair. My youngest son Beau enjoys camping because of all the dirt. He must wonder what miraculous turn of events occurred to bring a smile to mom’s face at his neglected appearance. And why do I go camping? I do it to see the unmatched awe on my children’s faces at the discovery of some treasure like a massive cow pie or raccoon tracks in the dirt or some crazy shaped tree or beautiful flowers or a herd of cattle suddenly invading our campsite. I do it for the fresh air that invades my limbs and lungs and makes me want to hike up a mountain path, furnishing my children with candy and purple and blue water bottles just so they’ll ignore the short stamina of their legs. I go camping because I want my kids to enjoy the outdoors. I want to cram their little bodies so full of enjoyment that they cannot help but fall in love with the damp dirt and cool fresh air and trees. My children have grown up in a desert, meaning sand, wind, and sunshine. This desert kind of beauty takes some getting used to. It is stark yet subtle; you won’t realize you love it until you leave it. The desert also saves its best, most surprising and beautiful places for those willing to pay the price to discover them. It is secretive and protective of its lush, hidden landscapes, cradling them at the end of bumpy dirt roads and vast barren scenes. Our family searches out those secret places, eager to be enchanted. That is where we go when we cannot see the stars anymore because of all the streetlights. That is where my husband can dig up worms in the dark of the morning just to lure a fish onto his hook. That is where our kids can whine because we forgot their sippers or gloves only to forget their complaints when Dad yells that he’s spotted a deer. And when they run with wild abandon, that is when Rus and I know that we’re doing something right. We are camping.


My home is a sanctuary. It is a place of love and safety. From what? Well, for now, with Bekah, a 5 year old, Jacob, a 4 year old, and Beau, an 18 month old, our home is a safe harbor from mean kids, sticks and stones, thunder and lightning, bad words and green scary monsters. It is the place where it is okay to cry about getting put on yellow at school for bad behavior. It is okay if you drop an egg, spill milk, or find that permanent marker can bleed through your paper onto the carpet. It is even okay if mom finds you with your hand in the cookie jar and a bite taken out of each remaining cookie. My home is where Jacob has learned how to politely say, “no, thank you,” and Bekah has learned to say, “excuse me, please,” instead of interrupting. My home is a place that houses a warm fuzzy jar, where good deeds are rewarded with a warm fuzzy pompom, your choice of color. My home is a place that smells like cookies in the afternoon because Jacob wants to make them with me. (Really he’s in it for the cookie dough.) My home is a place where the kids are read to, prayed with and tucked into bed so that my husband and I can finally see and hear each other without the proverbial noise and colorfulness of our children. My home is a place where I can learn how to do things right. It is where I learned to change diapers without getting peed on and learned to handle tantrums without feeling beat up. And what lies outside the doors of my home? There is goodness everywhere but it does not in any way eclipse the fact that there are shadows and demons, too. Outside my home there is a gauntlet for me and each of my children. Outside my home Bekah’s strong will and drive for perfection will be tested. Jacob’s solitary way will be pressed into conforming. Beau will be knocked down by bigger kids. I will be questioned for not working and having three young children so close in age. I will be wrong when I yell at my kids and I will be wrong when I don’t. But my home is my corner of the ring, the place I can go to break down, regroup and rebuild. My home is a sanctuary because it is where my children know that they are loved even when they have messed up. My home is the place where they should mess up, make mistakes, and discover the difference between right and wrong because here I can correct them, teach them, and love them. So tonight we will read our bedtime story, like always. We will read scriptures, say prayers, brush our teeth, and get tucked into bed. Bekah will give me eskimo kisses and Jacob will squeeze me as tight as he can before saying goodnight. Beau will give me open mouth kisses and I will nibble on his cheeks. Then the lights will go off and the wind will howl outside, but my children will be dreaming happy things because they are loved.
In my home.

A Biker Family? How did this happen?

Bye, February!

This month has certainly been overflowing with good stuff...
Like all sorts of craftiness, including these felted flower brooches from THIS tutorial (no matter that the black and gray one that I sent my mom my dad mistook for a tarantula and the pink one for Amy she laughed at, wondering what to do with it...)This sexy red t-shirt, cut down from a men's 2XL t-shirt, with flowers added like THIS tutorial (gotta love red shirts...it's such a power color, don't you think?)...And new finds in baking, such as THESE easy and festive fortune cookies. (Watch out, learning new things makes you a target for providing relief society party desserts!!) Here is Beau helping me...Next time you want to make something but have a little too much help, just let go and give your kid a bowl full of flour and a spoon. And a sifter if you feel like it. It is guaranteed to occupy for at least ten minutes. And then to top it off, yesterday we were able to be a part of a huge birthday bash for Grams, Rus's mom's mother, who turned 86. I found an old scrapbook that Grandpa Windham had put together with pictures of them when they were courting, first married, and having children. I scanned in all of my favorites (really all of the pictures were wonderful), and turned them into a scrapbook for each of us grandkids to have. Grams is not expecting to live much longer...she has lung cancer and is pretty much confined to her bedroom, and this party was a wonderful way to gather all her loved ones in one place, share stories, take pictures, reminisce, laugh, and of course eat. :) Here is my favorite picture of her; she is a beautiful, strong woman.Tomorrow I will leap into March. There is so much to do and I am grateful to be busy.
By the way, Rus bought his motorcycle, a Honda DRZ 400. I will even admit to "letting" him buy it, if such a concept were really true. He loves it, I'm excited to go on adventures with him, it's a win-win situation. :)
Now bring it on, March.

Do I Love Buffalo?

Jacob playing in the tub with a LittlePeople buffalo...

"Mommy, do I love buffalo?"

I don't know, Jakey, do you?

"I don't know! I haven't tasted them before!"