Dead Rat

The cat was in the window meowing this morning. I know Jess hasn't been outside to do maintenance in a while so I told her she needed to tend to her kitty this morning before school and make sure she's got food and water in her bowl.
She obediantly went outside to check. I saw her jump back startled and then run. Next thing I know she's knocking at the front door. Curious I open it for her and she says, "Mom there's a dead rat out there! It's too scary!"
Oh dear, she's got my phobia. Did I accidently make it rub off on her? Fortunately Jhonny was home this morning and he promised to take care of it. "It's a real rat!" He said as he carried it off to the garbage can. "I thought it might be a mouse. Wow." I didn't look. I didn't want the image in my head.
I wish I could have saved Jessica from the trauma though. As I took her to school she said, "Thanks Mom. Now I have that rat in my mind and I'm going to have nightmares about it." Poor girl. I didn't know her cat was bringing home a present for her. Yuck!

How did this happen?

I'm not sure what to blame, but somehow I got roped into volunteering to spray paint 12 pairs of ballet shoes. Perhaps I missed the memo due to the fact that I wasn't feeling up to taking my daughter to class a week ago and sent her with my neighbor. Or perhaps I'm just an ignorant first time parent at this studio. Here's the story:
Jessica has been complaining that her dance shoes are too tight. It's only a couple of weeks til her recital and then we can pack them up until next fall. But inevitably she will most likely be taking lessons again next year so I went ahead and bought her some new dance shoes while I was in Bryan for a doctor's appointment the day before her class. So last night as I pick her up from class the teacher calls for all of the ballet shoes to put in a bag. I'm thinking "Why??" when someone mentions that they are going to spray paint the shoes. I'm thinking, "I don't think so!" Not her brand new pair of shoes for next year. I just bought them. We are NOT spray painting her ballet shoes. I would rather spray paint the old ones that were left at home a half hour away.
I ask her teacher what they are planning to do. She said she is going to have them spray painted silver for the recital. I said, "I can do that." I was meaning I could do that to her old ones at home so she will look like the rest next week at the pictures.
As I'm talking to someone else about how to assemble this complicated costume on my daughter, the teacher hands me the whole bag of ballet shoes. I say, "What's this?" Someone else says - "Oh it's easy. Just stuff them with newspaper and spray them. You might also want to touch them up for the dress rehearsal."
I look at her and at my belly and think - How did this happen?
I'm already wondering how I'm going to get through a birthday party tomorrow. And I wasn't planning on GOING to the dress rehearsal, but rather sending my daughter with someone else. I'm not even sure I'll make it to the recital in my condition. Just getting her to dance class is something of a challenge at present. And PAINT? I don't really go near the stuff at present moment. How can anyone THINK that I would do this? I can't even go to the store to get the needed items to do the job, much less. . .but it was too late. They don't really know me or my situation. I felt stuck and irritated by that fact.
If only I had known they were going to do this - I would have had the OLD shoes with me that day . . . UGH!

Last Day of School

It's the last day of school! Yeah! I'm not sure if I'm more excited or if Jessica is. In exactly 3 hours I will pick up my daughter and then I don't have to worry about busing her again for almost three months. I always loved the last day of school. The end. Completion. A job well done. It's over. Now for a breather and then on to new and better things.
Happy Last Day of School!

My Little Rascal

A closet Alfalfa?

Happy Birthday Jhonny

Happy Birthday, Honey! I love you!

I had big plans for my husband's birthday. We were going to go out on a date and get a babysitter! Real treat for us. Except he had to work on his days off (including his birthday) and that threw a wrench in our plans. Instead we spent a lazy Sunday afternoon together and had a cake. We called my parents to help us sing via speaker phone. Today - Memorial day, he's getting the yard ready for Jessica's early birthday party this Saturday. So much for fun! Anyway - I'm grateful to have him home even for these two days. He's a keeper!

Still hangin in there. . .

I'm gaining weight, and I'm still having those contractions, but I've made it to week 34. I think we can do a few more - I hope.
This past week my branch president called to ask me to speak in church yesterday. The topic: "Live by faith and not by fear." I could only laugh. Whether it was the Spirit or hormones, the talk had me blubbering more than usual. Afterwards my branch president used my own words on me and told me all would be well; the Lord is in charge here. I guess that's His answer to my anxiety these past few weeks.
I look like I'm ready to have this kid any day - so people are little surprised when I say - oh no, not yet! They don't understand. Even though it looks like I'm ready and believe me - I feel ready, IT'S NOT TIME YET. 3 more weeks and THEN I'll start agreeing with them.

Bedrest - HA!

So I've put myself on bedrest. Not exactly a good term to use, but I've tried to refrain from any unnecessary activity to slow down or stop the "Braxton Hicks" contractions that seem to come all too frequently these days. This is harder than it seems. You'd think it would be easy to sit with my feet up all day and do nothing.
However, it's really hard to refrain when the house looks like a tornado hit and my almost 6 year old daughter complains that she has to clean up after her little sister all the time and it's not fair. . . Hmmm - I wonder if that argument will work for me? I think not.
Then there's the lack of public school transportation I've already complained about and the nesting thing doesn't help. Ohh - and making meals, bathing a toddler, lifting said toddler to her carseat, carrying her to her bedroom for a nap, etc. Yeah, easier said than done.
For a kindergarten assignment the week before mother's day, my daughter finished these sentences as follows:
My mother is kain to me.
My mother can snugl wit me.
But, my mother cannot bind ovr.
It's true. At present state, I cannot bend over. In the past it hasn't been quite as dibilitating as it is currently. In the past I had a present husband who was able to take up the slack. Although he does his best when he's here - he's really not here enough to help this time. So I'm following the advise of my doctor - praying. Just a few more weeks kiddo. 5 would be ideal, but I'll settle for 3 if I'm already at the doctor's office.
To lend credit to my daughter, she has been incredibly helpful these last few weeks. Whether it was repeating Elder Ballard's talk to her or her sensitivity to my state or her genuine loving personality - despite the complaints, she has helped clean up, bathe and dress her sister occasionally and has been quite helpful for a not quite 6 year old who will probably end up sharing her birthday with this little brother of hers. She even has made my bed for me more than once without being asked. Whether she believes me or not - I am grateful for her help at such a young age. I love her all the more for it if that's even possible. It's not easy being the oldest sister - I should know - but I think Heavenly Father sends down the very best to cover the role.

Fences

Daddy's home!

The first panel goes up! Rotten decaying disfunctional fence in background.

Daddy's little helper.

Just the gate left to go!

The fence is almost complete. Jhonny and Lily worked on it yesterday and we are down to the gate which should get done today with any luck.

We are only a little annoyed that the neighbor didn't take care of it herself since it's her dogs that are destroying our yard. At some point (8 months, multiple complaints, and pressed charges resulting in a court date and a ticket for her that have done nothing to fix the fence nor compensate our losses later) you just give up and do it yourself.

I'm happy to get my yard back. Jhonny is happy to not have to look at the decaying ugly fence on the other side. Lily was happy to have her daddy home. She was by his side the whole morning covered in dirt from head to toe and LOVING it (especially since she was under the protection and watchful eye of her daddy who is not afraid to run the dogs off like her mommy). Jessica came home from school and took her place while she napped. I'd say this is one fence that is making us truly a "Happy Family."

Mother's Day

Due to my tremendous discomfort and rambling thoughts, I couldn't sleep past 5am yesterday. I knew I would be tired, but that did little to help me go back to sleep. I decided to get up and feed the growling stomach that was contributing to my insomnia. So I was awake when my children came wandering into the kitchen.

"Flowers!" my two year old exclaims as she scrambles to climb onto the table and attack the rose filled vase. The temptation to touch was overwhelming though I repeatedly explained, "The flowers are for smelling, not for touching. . ." She drew in breath after breath with a huge grin. You'd have thought the bouquet was for her.

My five year old looks to see if I've read her card inscribed in her own handwriting, "You are the bust Mom ever!" Yeah! I win! It's little compensation for all I've done, but I'm grateful for the love, recognition and appreciation from my sweet children and husband who has gone out of his way to get some things done out and around the house on his unexpected reprieve from work. For this I am grateful.

I think of my sacrifices as a mother:

1. When I go shopping, I think of what my husband and kids need first. If there's anything left over I might consider something for myself and then justify that I don't really need it because I've already spent too much on them. I might buy a candy bar that I hide so that it isn't gone before I get a bite and then feel guilty about it later.

2. Each week I look at the pile of laundry and attack my husband's work clothes first so he has something to wear. Then I attack the huge pile of children's clothes that seem to multiply exponentially - but they really ARE dirty so . . .

3. I walk through the house daily picking up toys and papers and snack wrappers/crumbs that were left haphazardly by my children and husband on their way to more important adventures only to retrace my steps to find MORE. . . it's never ending.

4. I clean up poop, and more poop and hold my tired waking daughter as she pees all over me. The thrills of potty training.

5. Chasing off the aggressive neighbor's dogs as they terrorize my children and the cat. Still waiting for a functioning fence to be built so I can reclaim my stolen back yard.

6. Dealing with raging hormones that get the best of me using volume and/or tones of voice that I immediately regret followed by apologies with hugs and kisses.

7. Feeling miserable for days, weeks, months so I have the capacity to deal with the greater pain that will come to finally end the pain and recieve the joy of a new baby.

8. Losing sleep to take care of said infant's every waking need while juggling the other children who want their time too.

9. Getting up before I really want to - to make sure my daughter gets dressed, eats, brushes her hair and teeth, has her homework ready to go, is wearing appropriate footwear for PE if it's that day, make a lunch that she will eat, grab the other kid and drag everyone to the car to get her to school on time while avoiding the cops who will pull me over for no good reason at all and make it home before they catch me.

10. Taking the cat to the vet in my car even though I just vaccumed it twice to get the shedding fur off of my seats.

11. Doing dishes, sweeping for the third time in a day, vacuuming again, cleaning the bathrooms again, and taking out the garbage - need I say more?

12. Watching shows like Dora, the Explorer instead of CSI or Grey's Anatomy.

13. Making sure my children are dressed and clean although I get yelled at, slapped, and/or kicked in the process.

14. Making sure my children have healthy food to eat at least three times a day even though I throw half of it away or get a tantrum over not being "hungry" for "that" while begging for a cookie or popsicle instead to which I say no, of course.

15. Dealing with stares from people as my children cry in a grocery cart because I wouldn't let them have a treat from the candy isle or told them to sit down and not climb all over my not yet purchased food and supplies.

16. Being mistaken for a mean and hateful mom instead of a concerned one for the safety and welfare of my children who don't really understand how their actions can hurt them.

Lessons learned from my sacrifices:

1. Realizing that Heavenly Father probably feels the same way (#16) about me sometimes and this is why he lets us have children. So we can learn what it's like to be a parent.

2. To understand what it means to care for someone more than yourself involuntarily.

3. To know how hard it must have been to give up his only begotten son for me and watch him suffer.

4. To try and comprehend a Parent's love and pain.

5. To know I'd do it all again because in my heart I have no other choice.

6. To know that no matter how much I give Thanks, it will never make up for how I am Blessed in ways I don't even realize.

Blessings that Motherhood has brought me:

1. Unconditional Love

2. More patience

3. The ability to forgive more quickly

4. Wisdom

5. Maturity

6. Tolerance

7. Creative problem solving skills

8. Capacity to do more than I thought possible

9. Joy at simple things

10. Gratitude

11. Understanding

12. Compassion

13. Insight

14. Organizational skills unatural to me.

15. Decision making skills

16. Confidence

17. An authoritative look and tone of voice coupled with love that only a mother knows.

18. Ability to do things I hate to do and not complain

My lists could go on and on. . . Feel free to add to it.

Lollipops!

This past weekend Jessica's dance class performed their Lollipop dance at the Taylor Bloomin Festival. We got there right on time and then found out she was almost the last performance. Lily and I sat in the sun for an hour and unbeknownst to us, got sunburnt in the process. The weather was in the 70's so it wasn't hot. I didn't realize I had gotten burnt until we got home later in the evening. Oops!

Okay Tanya, so just as an experiment I'm going to try to link to your blog about your birthday and graduation. Congrats! I love the video of Sydney singing to you! Fun, fun, fun!

Yea! It worked. I think. At least it took me to your blog, but if I want a specific blog entry, I guess I'll have to play around with that. Hmmm. Interesting! Thanks, Tanya!

Boiling Point

When I was at Ricks College, I took a Chemistry for the Modern World class to fulfill a science requirement. I found the class quite informative and have never forgotten the valuable consumer lessons that I learned there.

For instance: I know what the octane numbers at the gas tank mean. The number represents the percent of pure gasoline found in that grade. The rest is well who really knows. But if you had 100% gas - it wouldn't be a liquid.

I learned that nutrasweet resembles a poisonous substance far to closely for my comfort. But it would never convert to that substance unless it reached a certain temperature awfully close to that of normal body temperature or comes into contact with aluminum. No, THANKS! I'll take my sweets with real sugar. It might make me fat, but it won't kill me.

I also learned that shampoo is acidic. It has to be acidic to wash your hair because hair is made up of amino ACIDS. And like solutions clean like solutions. But no one would put ACID in their hair for obvious reasons and so the manufacturers label shampoo as NON-alkaline to throw you off. But the opposite of alkaline IS ACIDIC. Ha! Clever aren't they?

The most valuable lesson was about TUMS - The manufacturer of TUMS is a sneaky devil. Tums is entirely made up of calcium and is about the same as eating a flavored piece of chalk. When your stomach is upset it is because it has produced too much HCl or Hydrochloric acid. That's the stuff that breaks down your food to digest it. Sometimes our tummies get a little ambitious and then - HEARTBURN! Yikes.

So calcium is that ingredient that breaks down the HCl and makes our tummies not "burn". Well it just so happens that the thing that calcium creates when breaking down the HCl actually makes your stomach produce MORE HCl. So the result is a little while after you get the relief your stomach is right back up there producing more acid. Ever wonder why TUMS comes in those big containers full? Once you take a TUMS, you have to keep on taking them. Great marketing tool, huh?

So - how do you get the cycle to stop? You have to add magnesium to that recipe so that your stomach will break down the HCl AND stop making more. That's why Rolaids or Maloox only comes in small rolls of 5 pills. One is all you need. I cringe when I see another victim fall prey to TUMS, but they have their agency, right?

Another thing that I learned was that every substance has a boiling point or a tempurature at which point the matter will start to boil. Salt is a catalist that lowers the boiling point of water so you can get your food to cook faster. It adds a nice little flavor too.

I was thinking about the boiling point last night and associated it with tolerance for cleanliness and clutter. I think when it comes to clutter we all have a different "boiling point."

For example mine is average, but is certainly higher than my husband's. I can look at clutter and some things bug me sooner than others. For instance, I can't stand toys on my rug. If they are scooted to the wall in a pile, I'm not so bothered - but I don't like them scattered about. However at some point I do reach my limit of tolerance and I have to go through all of them and reorganize.

Company is the salt to my water. When I am expecting company I seem to reach my tolerance level for clutter much quicker. Suddenly all those little things that only mildly bothered me seem to glare at me and they must be dealt with and NOW. I'm certain I was socialized this way by my mother.

Anger seems to be another catalist to my cleaning. But I don't prefer this method as it tends to come with other unpleasant side affects.

Pregnancy on the otherhand seems to raise the boiling point making it take much longer before I feel compelled to do something about the piles of clutter. Perhaps it's the constant fatigue or lack of energy to face what must be done.

Yesterday I hit my boiling point so to speak. A calm one with no catalist involved. I vacuumed, I did dishes, I did laundary, I cleaned bathrooms, I made my bed, I folded towels that have been sitting in a laundary basket for a couple of days and put them away in a nice neat pile. I even cleaned out the Cat litter (with gloves) and mopped the floors where the cat has taken to relieving herself in my laundary room. (Today is the last day as she is getting fixed as we speak and going out the door - tonight!) Then I vacuumed out my van and finished up with repacking and putting away all the camping gear from two weeks ago that my husband hastily threw on the garage floor in a pile when I asked him to unload it from the van for me in his limited spare time. I cleaned up messes that, for the most part, I did not contribute to.

I don't know when I will hit the boiling point again. The saddest part is that after my hard day's work, there wasn't much to show for it at the end of the day except for a few less piles of clutter. It's too bad only I was able to appreciate the results and only for a moment at that. I have heard that most mothers experience this phenomenon. I am not alone.

Perhaps this fact and the fatigue combined contributes to the level of my boiling point. After all, what is the point of all that effort when it never lasts for long and goes completely unacknowledged and unappreciated? Nevertheless I have seen others whose boiling point is higher than mine and some whose boiling point is lower. I reckon it doesn't really matter in the eternal scheme of things.

Maybe I'm in a minority club that doesn't enjoy housework. I don't really mind it. I even enjoy a clean house. What I don't enjoy is the constant undoing of my work. As disappointing as it may be, chaos is inevitable. The point is eventually making things orderly has to be done. So I do it, not because I love it, but because I'm a mom. That's what we do.