Home Suite Home!

Well, we're back from the game. Home Suite Home! It was a lot of fun up there in the Coca-Cola sky box, but I couldn't see staying for the whole evening, being as it's a holiday and all. . . . We do have children who might need a little supervision. . . especially since they're staying up till midnight and beyond. Personally, I think Mama will be hitting the hay about elevenish, like normal, but it's better that we're home. I'm just too old for this kind of thing. 14 exhausting hours of dealing with our seven children, and my ever loving husband, is just a little too much for me. I burn out around 7:30 pm, I think my personality goes to sleep at about eight. : ) Plus, you know the song. . . "Baby, it's cold outside." Ain't it though!

Good night all. See you next Year! : )

New Year's Eve

My husband Charlie's got 2 tickets to the Jazz game in the Coke Suite tonight, at the once-upon-a-time Delta Center here in Salt Lake. Yay! I love the Coke suite! It's always catered, and you always have a great view of whatever it is that you're watching. Over the years we've been to Basketball games, Disney on Ice, Hockey tournaments, etc. It's great fun. : )

Our little girl Laena is probably gonna babysit for our 'date'. We'll take the baby of course. I can't leave him yet. Not until he figures out the stairs. Laena' so funny. I was trying to tell her about it, but for some reason my tongue got tied in a knot, and she said:

"Yeah, yeah. You're going to some game. . . where a ball is thrown. . . Yippee." I guess she wanted to party it up with her friends. I don't think so, Little Miss Silly. She actually asked us if she could have a guy friend of hers over 'to help her babysit'. I just about fell off the couch laughing. I don't know if you've ever seen our daughter, but if you can imagine Britney Spears meeting Marilyn Monroe, you'd maybe have some idea of why we'd prefer her not to have boys over when we're away. Ha ha ha! Ho ho ho! : ) Someday she'll understand.

Last night she also asked me the age old question, dreaded by parents everywhere. . .

"Mama! Can I borrow your car?" Again, ha ha ha, hee hee hee. The audacity of that child. Well, you know what they say. . . Kids that age will push their limits every chance they get. Our girlypoo is certainly no exception! Oy. But hey, that's okay! Me and my hubby are going on a date! Hee hee hee hee hee! Haaaappy New Year!

Go Linus! / Vote for Bob!

With all this talk about politics lately, I can't help but think of last year and possibilities lost. Sigh.

Now don't get alarmed. . . I've sworn off political commentating. Evidently I have rather strong, passionate views that tend to freak people out a little bit.

Pshaw. I mean c'mon. Wasn't it an 'idealistic' world that the Founding Fathers were inspired to create? Let's review some of their writings and see if we can find some strong, passionate views. . . . Ya. Righto. Anyway, guess I'll do like Linus Van Pelt and refrain from discussing religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin. . . But where's the fun in that?! : )

Last year, one of our neighbors thought about running for Congress, against incumbent Chris Cannon. The posters were printed up and everything when he had second thoughts and decided to back out. Or should I say bow out gracefully. He does everything gracefully. It would've been a very close race. To give you an idea, this well respected, reputable man was formerly mayor of West Jordan, Utah, LDS Mission President down in South Africa, record-breaking BYU quarterback, etc. You do the math. He would've been a powerful force. I was so disappointed when he decided not to run. I guess he didn't want to move to Washington. Darn it. I don't know. Rumor had it that back in the day he just wasn't excited about all the corruption in government. He's a very honest, upright, sensitive soul, and I think the dishonesty saddened him. Me, personally, I definitely would've voted for Bob Roberts! Either way, we've been blessed to have had the pleasant association of him and his lovely family. And since he decided to stick around town, we get to have the benefit of whatever miracles he's working around here locally. Guess I can't complain. Actually, (a bit of trivia), President Roberts was the first person we met when we moved out here to West Jordan. (ps he was stake president at the time) He was out walking, stopped to say hello, shook our hands politely/warmly and welcomed us to the neighborhood.

The neighborhood made a good first impression : ) We were happy to be here, and will probably end up growing old right here in our 'starter home.' I'm sure there are worse things. . : ) You know what they say. . . Location, location, location.

You can't beat it. : ) Vote for Bob!

Geek Squad Dilema

The boy here is doing it again. He's making me buy episodes of Avatar off of iTunes in exchange for chores or loose change. One of the episodes stopped in the middle of downloading. We couldn't seem to get it started up again. Naturally I called my husband the computer man (geekmeister) at work again. He knows more about this kind of thing than anyone else I've met. Not wanting to mess with it, he transferred me to some guy in operations who's s'posed to be the iTunes guru. The yayhoo couldn't seem to figure it out.

Charlie was back on the phone again. "The Geek Squad here is being less than helpful. . . " he pointed out.

"Are you kidding? We don't pay for anything. . . " I heard someone say in the background. Okay. We'll leave that alone. : )

Such adventures we have here at the homestead. I need to become more savvy. : ) Oh yeah.

Watch out Baby. ; )

The Box Man

Earlier a FedEx truck pulled up in front of our house. Our 5 yr old, Jeffy, of course saw it and yelled

"It's the Box Man again!" Ah, the Box Man. Code for UPS guy usually."It's a white Box Man! And he's coming to our house!" Yay!

Puzzled, I asked "A white Box Man?"

"Yeah. He has a white truck." Of course.

Jeffy opened the door, and I dragged the box inside. It was tall and oblong, up on it's end, and had a big sticker that said "Truckin' " on the side.

What a surprise. Charlie got a small Christmas bonus a week or so ago, and I guess we know what he spent it on. I called him at work.

"The Box Man came again. . . . This time it was Fed Ex."

"Really?" He was so excited. "It's Christmas. . again!"

"I bet you wanna come home for lunch now, don't you."

"Ooh, I do!"

"Sure, now you wanna come home!", I said, remembering earlier this morning. ("Honey, I don't have time for breakfast. . I really have to get to work.")

"Aww. You know I want to come home and talk to you. . . . " I wasn't buying it. Sigh.

Anyway, we know Charlie will be having fun later. : ) Yippee. This Holiday stuff doesn't seem to be ending any time soon. Now we've gotta come up with creative ways to dispose of all the wrapping paper, etc. And then there's New Year's. I thought about going to First Night Utah downtown, but after almost freezing to death at the 'Zoo Lights' last night, (I'm pretty sure some of us experienced frost bite), I'm beginning to think that staying home and ordering pizza might be a better idea. Especially with a bunch of little kids. We'll see. Brrrr. Cold, cold, cold.

Our 15 year old twins are going on a 'Winter Campout' tonight. What an oxymoron! Does this sound stupid to anyone else? Let's go out and freeze ourselves . . in the name of Scouting. . .for FUN! I don't get it. Maybe it's a Mommy thing. I've never understood why the Scouts insist on torturing themselves by sleeping outside in the middle of Winter. . . Silly, silly, not real bright. Somebody could freeze to death! It's just not practical. Anyway, I disapprove.

Charlie pointed out that the three big kids (our 'triplets') will all be gone for a few hours later tonight. . . Hmmm. Tommy might want to catch a movie. . . Where could we dump off the other 3? We could spend a quiet evening at home! : ) Yeah, right. Who doesn't have plans, and would want to watch a bunch of riotous, bouncy little kids, instead of sipping hot cocoa by the fire? Not very realistic. It might be different if there was a Grandma factor, but she's 13 hundred miles away, and not likely to fly in and rescue us. . . We've never really had family close by. . . At least not family that would watch the kids.

Maybe if we whine a little more, they'll retire and move out here, so we can finally get some babysitting goin' on.

Uh-huh. Maybe after our first 3 or 4 kids are half way through college. . . .

Righto.

Baby Jesus

This month in the Ensign, there was an amazing article by President Hinckley. It's one of my favorites. Below is an excerpt:

E. T. Sullivan once wrote these interesting words: "When God wants a great work done in the world or a great wrong righted, he goes about it in a very unusual way. He doesn't stir up his earthquakes or send forth his thunderbolts. Instead, he has a helpless baby born, perhaps in a simple home and of some obscure mother. And then God puts the idea into the mother's heart, and she puts it into the baby's mind. And then God waits. The greatest forces in the world are not the earthquakes and the thunderbolts. The greatest forces in the world are babies." 1

I was thinking of one Baby in particular, whose birth we celebrate tonight. : )

http://www.lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?vgnextoid=f318118dd536c010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD&locale=0&sourceId=0f6920da30286110VgnVCM100000176f620a____&hideNav=true#footnote1

Also, what a beautiful compliment to Mary, his gentle mother!

Mama Grinchette

Well, I think I'm done. People always ask if you are "ready for Christmas". I think we're pretty close to being ready, but either way, I'm done, finito, end of story. Whatever hasn't gotten done, ain't gonna get done, cause I'm done.

I think I will do like my brother Nathaniel, and pay the kids to wrap whatever presents are left. Maybe I've been hanging around my husband, Charlie the Grinch, too much. . . but for whatever reason, here I am. Meet Mama Grinchette. It's time for a stress-free Christmas. Time to focus in.

It's not all about the hoop-la anyway. It's about small moments, that make up the memories that we call childhood, or family time, or life. A child's bright-eyed smile, a kind word, cookies from a good hearted neighbor. . . the Babe in Bethlehem.

Christmas. : )

Christmas Concert : West Jordan High

Wednesday we went to our daughter Laena's last choir concert of the year. It was beautiful, and I had a great time taping it, and hearing music that was actually in tune. She's in an all girl's choir called Belles Voix. Together with their counterpart, Take Ten Men's Choir, they did a great job. : )

The choir director Kelly DeHaan, is amazing. I don't know if he knows how much of a positive influence he is, and has been, in our community over the years. He's been teaching for eleven years, and at the end of the night Wed, he had everyone who's ever taken his class, all the alumni who happened to be in the audience, come up on stage with the current group, and sing a couple of Christmas numbers with them. Seeing everyone again, he said he felt old. Old, but happy. : ) What a guy! He promotes such a feeling of community loyalty/togetherness. Laena is so lucky to have him for a teacher. I mean, he's a little cocky, but I think he's entitled. Such talent you do not run across every day. To give you an idea, Mr. DeHaan was in the Mo Tab Choir (Mormon Tabernacle Choir) for years, he directed the Day of Celebration in '05, leading a youth choir 16 thousand strong, (that alone is an amazing accomplishment), and he was recently recruited and sent back East to help with the 'new and improved' LDS Nauvoo Pageant in Illinois, which we saw every year when I was in High School. It's quite the production, a lot of work to put together. Anyway, I could go on for a while about all the plays and performances put on by Mr. DeHaan, but mostly I'm just grateful that Laena gets to be a part of all this. Such feel good stuff this is. : ) I also appreciate the fact that the kids at the high school have to maintain a 3.0 GPA to be in Choir class. This, coupled with the camaraderie and purpose they feel with their musical peers, is a powerful motivation for them to keep up their grades, promoting success for our youth all the way around. Wow. Our little girl has even thought about starting up a blog called Blog Voix, to document choir experiences, tours and competitions and the like. Cute idea. : ) Go Laenabug! La, la la, la la. : )

Cheerszzzzzzzzz

The other day I was able to catch a little bit of Bob Lonsberry, a favorite radio show. He happened to be talking to the cousin of new and very successful author Stephanie Meyer. Apparently she is a 'Stay At Home Mom', a phrase which I hate with a fiery loathing passion, as Laena would say. (Where else could you effectively mother?) Stephanie is in her early 30's, with small children. Bob asked the girl on the phone how someone with all that responsibility could find the time to write? Evidently she stays up late after the kids are finally in bed and writes her stories, based on a dream she had a while back. My question is, when does the woman sleep?

Charlie said there's gotta be caffeine involved. “She drinks diet Coke.” He said. “Without a doubt.” Maybe that's my problem. I'm just not one of those people who can go w/o sleep. I don't do well. After a long day with the kids, I need some shut-eye! Guess I'm just not drinking enough caffeine. Far be it from me to point out that the leaders in our church, (to say nothing of medical professionals everywhere), have suggested that it might be harmful to our bodies! Get outta here! The heck you say! Whatever. Nobody ever listens to me. I just don't have a problem with physical addiction. It's not my vice. Well, okay, maybe sugar. But that's it. So I don't have much sympathy for all this whining about how hard it is to stop drinking soda, or smoking etc. I just don't get it. Sorry. I have other things to deal with. Like trying to get enough sleeeeep. Yes, my friends, that's it. . . . I gotta have rest! I absolutely need to cuddle up with my old, worn out teddy bear, or my fat little baby boy, and. . . sleep. That's the only way I can get anything done. Otherwise, I end up dizzy and irritable, and nobody wants that. : ) Anyway, hats off to Stephanie Meyer. She's figured it out. Maybe one day I'll be able to unlock the magic and figure things out for myself. If that ever happens, I may become effective and efficient. . . hmmmm.

p.s. I should probably point out that caffeine has probably saved the life of my formerly truck driving husband numerous times, when coming down the mountain, usually Parleys Canyon, after a long day and no sleep. So, thank you. Thank you, Coca-Cola. Cheers.

Slurpin' Down the Sauce

My husband has a little problem. . .

He loves soda pop! He can't get enough of it, and will often bypass a meal, and chug a couple of 32 oz mugs instead, so he doesn't have to take the time to sit down and eat. Unbelievable. : )

This morning he came in and sat down on the bed. It was way too early. I've had enough of this 'getting up when it's still dark' nonsense.

"I took it easy on the pop yesterday", he said, "and now I think I'm coming down with a cold. See! This is what happens when I don't get enough pop."

Of course his coming down with the sniffles has nothing to do with the fact that the rest of us have been battling strep throat and bronchitis for weeks. . . . He's just not here enough to actually encounter the germs. . . .

"You need orange juice", I said. "And you need to drink lots of water."

"No! I need soda!" he snapped, feigning irritability. "Soda! Soda. . . . . " Now he was calling out the word, as if trying to magically summon whatever pop might be in the house to aid him in his extremity.

"I don't think the root beer in the fridge is gonna sprout tiny little wings and come flying to your rescue." I retorted disdainfully. "Now let me sleep."

He proceeded to spitefully bounce the edge of the bed, instigating war. I yanked the blanket higher up over my shoulders, stubbornly curled up in the fetal position and refused to move.

"We should just make a pact, pinky swear and everything." I suggested after a few minutes. "I'll cut back on the chocolate, and you quit drinking pop."

He snorted with disgust. "Sure! That's like you going to get the paper, and me jogging up to the capital building and back!" Now he was whipping his wet hair in my direction and buttoning up his shirt. Goodness, he has run marathons. . . .

"Hey, chocolate does tempt me. . . " I responded tentatively, knowing full well that this wager wasn't even. "By the way, I found your stash."

"Stash? What stash?" he asked, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and pretending to look innocent, while putting on his shoes.

"The box of Vault in the back of your truck." It was Coca-Cola's answer to Mountain Dew. His favorite.

"Huh? Oh. You found that did you . . ? Well, at least I didn't bring it in the house."

I'd banished all caffeinated soda from the fridge a couple of years ago.

Not feeling much compassion for his predicament, I tried to be supportive via tough love.

"C'mon Honey", I said."Jump back on the wagon. You can do it! You've done it before. . . " There have been times when he's given it up for 2 or 3 months at a time.

"Sorry. I gotta have my Coke fix. We need to support the company, you know. Plus, I don't always get enough sleep." There was no arguing with him. He's been with Coke for 15 plus years.

Some habits are sooo hard to break. Me? I'm not obsessive. . . I won't talk about my 3 hundred or so rolls of film that I have yet to develop, or my collection of 4000 digital pix on the hard drive. Good thing they keep upping the space on these things. What are we up to now? 20 gig? I don't know. I'll leave that to the techies. Helpful techies like my ever lovin' man. : )

. . who is probably heading to work right now, slurping down the sauce, and driving way too fast. A day in the life of a Coke Man . . .

Fishin' line

Hey, for all you people out there with a 1 yr old babies or toddlers this Christmas season, here's a tidbit for ya to help your tree stay upright.

If your child likes to play with ornaments, to tries outright to topple the Christmas tree, and you happen to have one of those hooks in the ceiling, for house plants etc, (I learned this from a neighbor), take some fishing line, double it up, tie it to the top of the tree and then to the hook and back, making sure to secure it good and tight, and your kids won't be able to knock it over!

All right! Yeah, baby. These are the kinds of practical tips parents need this time of year.

I should write a book. : )

Dignity?

Some days I regret the loss of my dignity. . .

There's really not much left. : ) It's been exponentially diminishing since the birth of our first child. Back then I had 'game', I had considerable talents, and I didn't look bad either. Since attaining Mama status, however, my body has slowly been falling apart and my brain has turned to mush. I have learned some things though, to balance it all out. For instance, Mommies everywhere know how to cut corners. . . We all use the bathroom before we leave the house, (because we are not allowed to when we are out and about), we are all ambidextrous, (it's much easier to hold a squirming baby with your dominant arm, and try to feed him with the other), and we can type one handed, while simultaneously soothing a small child (all that whimpering and whining kind of distracts when your trying to go over the bills).

Such talent was merely legendary before the babies came. Now it's a part of our daily routine. : )

There should be some sort of an award. . .

Keep those flowers comin', Hubbies! : ) Expensive jewelry. . . .

Candy Cane Chaos

I guess yesterday went pretty well. . . Here's the run-down:

I had just enough time to run to the grocery store and pick up some cards and things before Aleia's rescheduled dentist appointment. We raced in, grabbed a cart, specially chosen by our preschooler of course, and commenced our search for something worthy of Great Grandpa Tanner. Personally, I think making it to one's ninetieth birthday is a spectacular accomplishment. . . . Jeffy naturally decided that he was "sooo hungry!", so I snatched a bag of Cheeto's off the shelf and we began shamelessly snarfing as we shopped. Charlie has kind of a problem with opening munchies before we've paid for them, but if it helps calm the yelping toddlers, I figure it's worth the loss of my dignity. As long as they have a bar code at the end when we reach the checkout line. . .

"You know, these would taste horrible with ketchup." Jeffy observed as we hit the party isle.

Indeed. : )

After fighting our way out of Maceys, we picked up an unsuspecting Aleia from school and headed over to the pediatric dentist's office a few blocks away. Here I performed acrobatic feats 'of dexterity and skill', standing on one leg, holding the baby under one arm, so I could hold Lea's hand while she got sealants on her 6 yr molars. The hysterical fits that child throws about things that do not hurt at all! Wherever did she get this high-strung personality? (Ha ha snort) We dropped her off at school, and headed back home. Once there, I attempted to catch up on some laundry, only to be foiled by screams from the living room, letting me know that the Binky (Lincoln) was once again scaling the Christmas tree, trying to get candy canes. It's his favorite thing to do lately. He'll skirt the tree until he spots a candy cane hanging low in the branches. Then he'll grab it and break it in half somehow, so he can suck on the broken end and taste peppermint. Honestly, ya halfta feel for the little guy. I mean, just how much rice cereal and smushed up vegetables can a person take? The problem is, he'll wander around the room and get gooey, slobbery shtick on everything, and we can't have that.

Later on, just after the baby had finally gone to sleep, I realized that it was time to pick up the big kids, and we had to try to get the little guy in the car without waking him up. I can't wait till Laena's car is fixed. . . I successfully rounded them up, but only after sitting in the car for 30 minutes, observing various high school shenanigans, and wondering if my kids were ever going to make their way out to the parking lot. We ended up giving Laena's unofficial boyfriend (lovebunny) Jordan a ride home, which made for a full load. After school we had nonstop friends over, playing on the snow hill in our front yard, cutting out Christmas pictures in the little kids room, (they never can figure out how to clean up their scraps), doing important detective experiments with Lisa's tackle box -turned detective kit- all over the house, and generally contributing to the craziness that is my life. : ) I suppose it would be boring to have a clean, organized house, and QUIET.

All this, and we were wrapping it up, just in time for the big "Sounds of the Seasons" Holiday gig at the high school. . . Dinner? Who has time? After all those lawsuits, McDonald's finally ended up figuring out a healthy well balanced meal, right? I really should clean out my car. . . Laena invited a date to her concert, so again, the car was packed. I sort of miss the mini-van. I wondered for a moment. . Did I have any make up on? A quick glance in the rear view mirror. . . Woopsie. : ) Well, at least we're all clean. . . The concert went pretty well, (Charlie met us there), except that Jefferson kept sneaking off and crawling around the auditorium military style so he wouldn't be easily spotted. What is it with that boy?

I could really use a back rub. You know, it's really quite hysterical that we Mommies are actually expected to pull all of this off. Honestly, I feel inclined to agree with my cousin Laura, when she said that she very much felt like hibernating this Holiday Season. Life can be exhausting.

When we were finally home, we wrestled the kids into bed, but then had to wait up - till ELEVEN - for Laena, our teeniebopper girliebob, who had gone out for ice cream with some friends. Hibernation, here I come. Except that Jefferson caught my sore throat, and kept us up half the night. : )

Where's that magic wand?

Holiday Rush

Well, here's my 'to do list' for today so far:

1. Get a card for Grandpa's ninetieth birthday tomorrow (He doesn't want a big hoop-la)
2. Send something to Missouri for Sarah's 'Baby Shower by Mail'
3. Pick up some semi-last minute giftlets for the kidlets for Christmas (After taking a meticulous inventory last night from the presents under the tree, we discovered that the numbers are off) Sure
4. Call the doctor and make sure that Jeffy doesn't have strep
5. Go grocery shopping
6. Clean the house
7. Pick up the kids from school
8. Make some beautiful, creative treats for the neighbors
9. Prepare an insightful, touching Family Home Evening Lesson
10. Make sure that the camera has fresh batteries for the big Holiday Band/Orchestra concert at the High School tonight
11. Try not to go nuts

And these are the things I've already crossed off the list:

1. Get up early, go the gym, come home energized
2. Thoughtfully study the scriptures
3. Make it into the shower before Charlie and/or Laena (We're re-doing our downstairs bathroom, so we only have the one, which makes it interesting)
4. Drag the boys out of bed, and try to convince them to get ready
5. Drive kids to High School
6. Taxi kids to the Middle School
7. Get little kids ready and race off to Elementary school
8. Do dishes (ha ha)
9. Eat breakfast? Huh?
10. Feed crying baby, and give him his eye drops (THAT, my friends, is a wrestling match worthy of U-tube for sure)

I won't tell you how many of these were actually accomplished. . . (hint - most of them in bathrobe and jammies) : )

Let's just say that if I don't quite make number 3, (beat C and L into the shower) it's probably gonna throw off the entire rest of the day, so we'll be one behind and struggling to catch up. . . . We'll see what happens.

These kinds of days give new meaning to the word . . .

Rush

Gotta go. Evidently I spaced off a dentist appointment.

Teefers!

It seems that babies and young children are in cahoots. They all have this bizarre habit of diving backward into your teeth if they want to 'get down' when you're holding them. They want you to put them down! They want to run and play and they evidently figure thrashing around and throwing themselves into the great beyond are the best ways to accomplish this. All of our kids have generally nailed me right in the mouth at least once or twice. . . I even have a knot in my lip, STILL, from 13 years ago when our son Eric caught me unawares. Kids also love to jump up and bounce when you're bending down to tell them something, clocking you on the chin, making you bite clean through your lip. Not a pleasant sensation. It's gotta be some kind of a conspiracy. Cause they ALL . . do it. I really shouldn't have any front teeth left at all, as many times, over the years, as our children have tried to come snuggle in the middle of the night, and then being half asleep, have laid back hard on the 'pillow' which usually ends up being . . my face. If I had a nickel for every time that I've figured on waking up to a whole lot of necessary dental reconstruction, I'd be a rich Mama indeed. Fat lips. Gotta love 'em! I suppose this could be considered humorous. . . . especially after Mommy has done her make up all pretty, to bloody her lip yet again, and then stain her white sweater. . . but if you'll listen, you'll hear birds chirping. Cause I ain't laughin'.

My Husband the Grinch!

Yes, it's true. Come December 1st, every year, my hubby Charlie turns into the Grinch. I guess he starts thinking about the financial end of putting together the annual Holiday celebration for a family of 9, and it causes him stress. And then there's all the time he'll halfta spend at family gatherings, kids' Christmas parties and such. . . Plus it probably doesn't help that his birthday is on November 30th, so at this point he's just realized that he's that much closer to 40. Sigh. My husband the Grinch. But to his credit, I should mention that he's held out this year. We have two family parties to go to this weekend, and so far he hasn't threatened to boycott . . . We'll see what happens.

Last night we went to the second of 3 holiday school concerts scheduled for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday this week. It didn't help that some guy called from work at the last minute and needed C to come fix his hand-held computer. I guess you could say we were a bit rushed. : ) I think my man finally snapped. We were looking at the program, scanning it for signs of our daughter's name, etc, when he said suddenly,

"This is insane! I mean, I love my kid, but I don't know if I love 'er 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 . . . 25 songs worth! You have got to be kidding me! This is going to be a 3 hour concert!" And it was. : )

And it starts.

Charlie spent most of the night out in the hall, chasing our 2 little boys. He was lovin' it. I could tell. : )

p.s. I remember when my Mama and Daddy would bring the entire clan to my band concerts. It was so embarrassing. All my brothers wiggling and yelping, running up and down the isles when they got the chance. . . . My mother in her flip flops chasing them down. . . her jogging up to the front of the auditorium to take pictures. . . . : ) Sigh. Such warm memories. Hee hee hee. Here on the flip side, I now understand.

Yummy European Food/The Advent Adventure

Charlie brought home some presents from his trip to Europe, among them an expensive Christmas cake from the 'famous' Hotel Sacher in Vienna. He took great care to pack it well, so it wouldn't get squashed, although there's only so much you can do when your bags are in the hands of those ever so gentle airport workers. (Miraculously, some glass Coca-Cola ornaments survived!) Anyway, it got here okay, and we cut it up for sampling with a lot of pomp and circumstance. . . . Unfortunately the kids all thought it was gross, so poor Charlie ended up taking most of it to work. All of his colleagues/coworkers loved it, or said they did. Must be a grown up thing. I mean, who'd have thought that putting apricot jam in chocolate cake would be weird? : )

Ah, the Advent Adventure. . . . I look forward to it with joy. Will the kids like their presents? Will the Christmas parties go well? Will there be lots of interesting confrontations with the in-laws? "Permit me a cruel chuckle. . . . " HAA ha ha ha ha ha ha!

What will we do, stuck here with each other for 2 whole weeks? Will Aleia throw up at Aunt Jean's again. . . . .

And the saga continues. : )

Little Boy Lost

I don't know if you've ever had a child, but there's an intense spiritual bond there that you just can't describe. There's something about seeing them for the first time, discovering, experiencing the miracle of creation . . . that simply can't be put into words. Good luck, if you're up for that sort of thing. . . .

I don't know if you've ever had a child run off and get lost, especially in a crowded public venue, but there's a numbing panic there, when you realize that they're gone, that you just can't fully communicate to people, who seem to think, when asked if they've seen your 5 yr old son, that drastic measures are not necessarily apropo . . .

We were at Hollywood Connection, an indoor amusement park over by the E-Center, for the Coke kid's Christmas party last Saturday, when Jefferson decided to take off and explore the place on his own. I guess I've seen one too many movies, but it was not a good feeling to comb the place, as much as possible with 4 other children in tow, and not be able to find him.

I challenge you to imagine what it might have felt like to see him running up to us, full of life and spunk and energy, after 20 minutes that seemed like an eternity, and to hear him say:



"Mommy! I rode the roller coaster all by myself!"

Why they let him on that thing I will never know. He weighs 40 lbs. When my husband's out of town, I feel like I'm riding the roller coaster all by myself. Thank Heaven for prayer, and guardian angels.

He brought home a paper angel art project from preschool the other day, made of half a paper plate, coffee filters and a cotton ball. It now rides atop my dashboard, and will likely remain there for some time, to remind me of the tender mercies shown to our family every day, like guardian angels, and my little boy found. : )

When we turn on the defrost, if makes the wings flap slightly. Jeffy likes to yell excitedly. . .

"Mommy, Mommy! Look at the angel!"

Sniff, Sniff, Sniffle

Well, this has definitely been a long week. It's Friday and it's raining. Right now my husband is at a fancy-shmancy Christmas party on the other side of the world, at the equivalent of the Austrian White House, the 'palace' something or other. . Sigh. And I'm sitting here, on our couch in my sweatpants, with a nasty sore throat and a box of tissues, watching Good Things Utah. Boy, do I feel glamorous. . I need a blanket. . .

My best friend is in Europe. My other best friend is probably getting engaged, most likely down in St. George, although there was talk of her man popping the question during their Holiday trip to Ireland. . . My sister's probably snuggling her red-headed French boyfriend somewhere, (very nice guy) and I am feeling rather . . . alone. Sniffle. Sigh. Do I sound depressed? I should really make some chicken noodle soup.

I think Mommies deserve to have a break occasionally, to take care of themselves for once. Maybe sleep in, (which I haven't done lately), and not have to be Miss Princess Agreeable every second of every day. . . and perhaps not have to do everything . . perfectly. This should be allowed. Sniff. After all, running a household is an exhausting job. Especially when you have virtually no back up. The expectations can be overwhelming. And believe it or not, women are people. With feelings. It should be okay to pout sometimes.

Ah, the phone is ringing. Who could it be? Probably another salesman, or somebody wanting money. . . Nope. It's my mother. : ) Long distance from Missouri. Calling to say hi. . . Sniff. . Only Mama love . . . I'm beginning to feel misty, so I'm gonna hafta go.

Plus I think the baby's eating paper. . . .

Recess Academy

My seven year old daughter has the most wonderful school teacher on the planet. Her name is Mrs. Bell. She's an older lady who loves to teach her class of 29 second graders. She calls them Sweetheart and Darling. She never yells. And when the kids get out of hand, they don't go to 'think time', or 'time out'. . They go to Recess Academy! Is this not amazing? I've never heard of anything like it. And I've had quite a few kids, who've had quite a few very different teachers over the years. Mrs. Bell tops them all.

She is superb, wonderful, sweet and kind, and has such a magical, bewitching style of gently twisting any situation that may arise into something positive. I think the kidlets experience reality while they're at school, but it's not a harsh reality. Mrs. Bell makes them feel important, loved, appreciated and supported at all times. She's got a phenomenal grasp of . . . well adjusted optimism. In the form of pixie dust. It's a magical 2nd grade wonderland full of smiles. : )

Wow.

ps Thanks also to Mrs. Murray, Miss Sargeant, Miss Jones, Mrs Tippits, Mrs. Peters, and many others. Kudos to you. And our undying gratitude. They really should pay more for this kind of dedication and far reaching, loving influence.

It's COOL to be cool ; )

Yesterday I made a total of 10 trips to 3 different schools. Somebody forgot their binder, had to take someone else a permission slip, yet another had driver's ed practice after school . . . yadda yadda yadda. I am an overworked, underpaid chauffeur. Unless you count all the fringe benefits that go along with the job, all those "lovely intangibles". . . : )

One of the things I noticed while out upon my adventures was rather a curious phenomenon . . . a large percentage of the kids at the middle school and high school seem to think that it's summer. Apparently it's real cool to be . . cold. Or to pretend that it's not cold. . . Or to make like you're so tough that you're just not affected by the sub-zero temperatures. I haven't quite figured it out. Are they all trying to hold up some sort of juvenile 'superhero complex', no doubt brought on by the constant barrage of video game propaganda? Who knows. . .

Back when I was a kid, we did a lot of crazy things, but we never intentionally froze ourselves.

It's sort of amusing really, to watch the kid down the street walk past your house with his backpack, shivering in a tee shirt, trying to look warm. . . . Ya just gotta smile. I tell you what.

It's like my 12 year old son says on occasion. . . Kids these days. : )

Secrets?

Well, yay. I get to struggle through 2 Sundays without my husband, who is away on a business trip. It wouldn't be so bad, if I didn't have to teach Sunday School lessons to a gaggle of wiggly little children, in addition to trying to control my own.

The class started out pretty well, but the kids seemed to sense me feeling insecure and inept, their eyes shone mischievously, and their naughty sides emerged with flare.

I asked questions, and tried to play games, but my energetic 1 yr old baby was distracting, and the kids' little minds seemed prone to wander.

"Sometimes my Daddy spanks my Mommy", said one little boy shyly, his big doe eyes looking up at me.

"My Mommy wants more babies, but my Daddy doesn't!" stated another emphatically.

Struck dumb, I smiled stupidly, and tried to think of something to say. Not really feeling up to the task, I struggled through the rest of the lesson. Finally, it was time to go.

"Davie, would you like to say the prayer?" I asked politely.
"No", he said bluntly. Taken aback, I tried again.
"Okay, who would like to say the prayer?" Somebody volunteered, and with relief, we tried to wrap up our little get-together. We all bowed our heads. . .

"And please help my Mommy to have another baby. . . "

Well, they were sunk now. The prayer of a child is a powerful thing. Somehow we made it through the rest of our Sabbath Day activities, finally got home and collapsed.

By the by, if you happen to have a 6-year-old child in Primary class, and you think you have any secrets left, I'm here to tell ya, you don't. Just lettin' ya know. : )

A resounding "Ya!"

My husband was assigned 'project lead' at work recently, in charge of a big project they've been working on for the last little while. They did such a good job that his boss has decided to send him and a co-worker over to the affiliated offices, in Germany and Austria, week after next, the first week of December. Charlie has been working long hours, and certainly deserves this amazing opportunity, but I was kind of looking forward to him being home a little bit earlier in the evening. Instead, he'll be calling me from the Vienna Hilton, maybe at 3 in the morning. Joy to the World. : )

Our 12 year old son is having a great old time, breaking into a resounding chorus of "How do you solve a problem like Aleia. . . ." every time his little sister walks into the room. The big kids are excited to see what Daddy will bring them from Berlin, etc. . . Meanwhile, I have to battle my way through 3 Christmas parties with all the children that same week . . alone, by myself, while my punk husband is over there in Europe, playing James Bond, sporting a tux, going to the Kringle Market in the native land of Saint Nicholas. . you know, visiting the walks of Beethoven, hearing the 'The Sound of Music' first hand. . . Wait a minute. . I'm pretty sure I'm the one with German heritage. . . So, am I jealous? Am I bitter? May I just say. . . You betcha! : )

But seriously, he'd probably take me with, if it wasn't for the sixteen hundred dollar plane ticket, and our regrettable lack of a nanny. . . . I am happy for him. And excited. It's just that I've wanted to go to Europe all of my life, ever since I was old enough to recognize the black and white photograph of my Italian Grandmother, which still haunts me from the wall in our family dining room back home. I hope he takes lots of pictures. . .

Well, best of luck, best wishes to my man there in Deutschland. I hope he has a great time. I'm sure he'll come back saying "Ya" even more than he has been these last few weeks. Maybe it'll be like the time he feigned a British accent for more than a fortnight, just for fun, to see if he could fool his clients when he was driving limos. Anyway, should be an interesting trip. Kudos to Charlie and the Old Country!

Summer Lights

I think we deserve some sort of award.

This is the first year that we have ever left the Christmas lights up . . all the year long. Yep, it's true. Now mind you, I'm not talking about those icicle lights, dangling there halfway though the summer. . . No, we're not as tacky as all that. Just the regular colored lights outlining the perimeter of our roof. . hardly noticeable really. . . : )

But I feel sort of trailer park. . . ish. We're probably the only ones in our neighborhood who've pulled off this height of apathy. I think we officially qualify for 'laziest shmoes around'. Yeek.

Heaven : )

I think my idea of Heaven is this: Sitting on my plaid comfy couch in my nice warm house, working on some sort of school-related paper work, with my one year old baby boy playing contentedly on the floor nearby, Rachael Ray talking to me from the corner, brightening up the room. . . I love her. She's my favorite gal ever! : ) Anyway, of course this reverie won't last longer than 5 minutes, because, as we all know, babies have the attention span of a fly . . . and they tend to poop when you're leaving the house. . things like that. . . But for right now, I am doing okay. I'm on cloud nine, contented as a kitten snoozing in a patch of indoor sun. So what's the big deal, you ask. You're just sitting there. Nothing exciting is happening. Just another day, right? Well, yes and no. . Okay, I'll tell you. . the catalyst is this: It's quiet. The kids are all at school, and for one brief shining moment I have peace. Peace and quiet. It's so beautiful. (Deep sigh of contentment) Every mother's dream. : )

I also like waking up in the morning and discovering that my big, snuggly husband is still in bed, laying there asleep with his heavy, muscular arm around my shoulders. He does have an occasional day off from work. Or sometimes he just decides to sleep in. The point is, he's there. At the risk of getting too personal, it's especially nice if I happen to be snuggling our warm, chubby little baby, and my hubby's hugging my back. It makes you feel safe. I can't think of anything better. This is the stuff of life. This is what it's all about, my friends. I doesn't get any better than this.

Heaven. : )

Christmas Letter

Hi there! This is our annual Christmas Letter! I wrote it a few weeks ago. I may get these in the mail. . .sometime. Right now, I don't want to see another Christmas card for at least . . . a year.

I guess that works. . . Greetings All! Happy Holidays! Christmas Letter 2007

For those of you whom we haven't seen in a while, we now have 7 children, three blonds and four red heads, 5 boys and 2 girls. The years have flown by. Life speeds on. Hope you are all well. . .

Probably our biggest highlight this year was Mama's and Laena's choir trip to New York. Their tee shirts weren't kidding. “Here Comes Treble!” Uh-huh. No joke. Not sure I'll do the chaperon thing again. But seriously, it was a lot of fun. Next year it's an exotic tour of California. . . Disney Land, etc. Who knew that teen-age girls would be expensive. . All these blinking extra-curricular activities, and I'm not just talkin' about school. Sigh. They grow up too fast. Anyway, Laena's life is all a-whirl, with 5 honors classes, music gigs, work, redoing her bedroom. . . and now she wants to take dance classes too. . . Oy. My baby Laenabug. : ) Always ambitious. . . .

Our eldest son, Clinton, (who is most decidedly NOT named after a certain ex-president), is now in the 10^th grade. He's doing what most boys his age like to do. . . it's a delicate balance, trying to juggle sleep, video games, sleep, Halo parties, sleep, comic books, sleep, volleyball, and oh! if there's time, a little homework every now and again. : ) Boy, oh, Boy. He practices the drums sometimes, blessing our humble home with the joy of music. Clint's currently working on his Eagle project, “Scare Away Hunger”, (now “End Hunger for the Holidays”) a humanitarian effort to benefit the Utah Food Bank this Holiday Season. (Bribery, my friends, bribery.) He wants to take fencing lessons, and has started collecting swords. . Watch out! : )

Eric Charles, kid # 3, is adjusting to High School, but stubbornly insists that he doesn't want to grow up. He's discovered that he really likes to take pictures. Can't imagine where he picked that up. . (snicker snort) We might have to buy him a nice camera if he signs up for that photography class . . Yes, the rumors are true, mis amigos. High School ain't free. Eric keeps trying to drag us to the zoo. I suppose we'll have to break down and get a membership. Sigh again. Just kidding. :) We love the zoo. Eric's a good kid, and a light unto our family. He's growing his hair out so he can be a were wolf for Halloween. :) He ran Track in the spring, and is in fantastic shape. I blame his eccentric hatred of cheese. : )

Tommy, the Tominator, has recently decided that he would like to be called “Tom.” I'm not sure what to think about that. I guess he is 12 years old now. . . a young man, as it were. . . But just because he's as tall as I am doesn't mean that he's not my Hunny Baby. : ) Wow. Middle school. What can you say? The formative years. Double sigh. : ) Tommy has taken up the cello again, and seems to be really enjoying school. He's always been our casually hip, All-American kid, tan and tow-headed, tee shirts and jeans. Harry Potter and Star Wars. And lots of dirt. That's our Tommy. Tom. Thomas. Just bigger. We love 'im. : ) Right now he's learning how to throw knives with the guy down the street. : )

Aleia, our 7 year old, is the moodiest little princess that you ever did see. Highs, and lows. . . pouting and projects. . and always DRAMA. : ) There's never a dull moment. You definitely can't buy entertainment like this! : ) Last year she planned a Halloween party two weeks after we'd had the baby. She invited half the neighborhood and forgot to tell us. Ah, but it's all part of the adventure, right? Thankfully, Clint saved the day with his homemade Jack Skellington pinata. : ) The boy's got talent. And always, Lea, our Rosebud, brings light and energy into our home and our lives. We had a lot of fun at her soccer games. : ) P.S. If 'Hello Kitty' was running for President, Aleia would have no problem recruiting the whole school. : )

Our Deedle Jeffy, or Jefferson, (absolutely named after a very honorable president), has started preschool this fall, with Teacher Joy. Yet another sigh. It's very hard for me to believe that my baby is almost 5. I guess the older you get, the faster time goes by. . . But, snapping back, Jeffy is having a great old time, home with Mama and baby brother. He smiles and bounces and plays with his cars. He loves to go to the store. They have balloons, you know. : ) He likes to call Daddy at work and ask for a “little bag of chips”. Daddy's sometimes bring home treats. : ) In September, Jeffy went on a field trip to the zoo! And then, the very next day, Mommy took him to the circus, with Eric and Lea. Wow, to be 4 years old again. . . He said it was the best day ever! Twice. : )

Lincoln Tanner, otherwise known as Linky the Binky, or “little Precious”, continues to be the light of all our lives. He just turned one, about the same time as the leaves on our maple tree began their journey to brilliant yellow. I love Fall. Circle of life, promise of Christmas. . . : ) Our baby is the spittin' image of his Daddy, a little carrot top with those ocean-like baby blues. : ) What a little angel, my baby Binky. He has the cutest dimples! He's Daddy's 'little Chub'! : )

Speaking of Daddy, Charlie is now Scoutmaster, and Amy's back in Primary again. Charlie's Dad passed away earlier this year after a relatively short battle with cancer.

We really do miss all of you, and wish we could see you more often. . . maybe toss a football at the park, catch a movie, get together for a barbecue. . . .

Merry Christmas to you all. May the magic of the Holiday Season

sparkle in your eyes. All winter long.

The magic is His Love. : )

Warmest wishes, The Mason Family

blupebbles@gmail.com

http://blupebbles.blogspot.com

be sure to check out my bros on iTunes: Mark Tanner/Tomorrow, and

Benj(Cows Never Die)/She Usually Wears Mittens

Thanksgiving

I love this time of year! Such yummy treats! The peppermint stick ice cream, the candy cane cocoa, the chocolate mint truffles. . . Sigh. . . Yes, I have a sweet tooth. . and a dedicated affection for the mint leaf.

Anyway. . .

My husband joked the other day, while patting his hint of a spare tire in a satisfied way,

"Sometimes you're eating, and you're making yourself sick. . . But you've gotta muscle through, and just keep eating. . . if you wanna look like me! : )

And so the Holiday snarfing begins!

We going to my mother-in-law's for Thanksgiving this year. She and her husband have a cute little ranchette up in Southern Idaho. They keep miniature horses there, and the kids love 'em. The only thing I'm concerned about was how to survive the trip up, and the trip back. Well, and how to keep the big kids entertained . . . 4 wheelers help.

Bing! Two words, everybody. Portable - DVD. Well, okay, and Cable - TV. It'll save our collective skins. I don't know if you've ever been in a vehicle for prolonged periods of time with multiple small, (and not so small), children. . . but I'm here to tell ya, it ain't no picnic. This year I'm thankful for the wonder of laptop computers . . .

TRUCKS

My husband has 4 trucks: His current project, his "baby", that he drives to work, his backup vehicle, a sporty red pick-up, his 'parts truck', which sits on the side of our house, and 'the family truck', a jacked up, gargantuan, 8000 pound Chevy Suburban. When he's at home he looks up truck related websites on the Internet, reads truckin' magazines, and wears t-shirts with trucks on them. . . . Did I mention that he likes trucks?

You have to understand that this isn't just a hobby for him. . .It's an obsession. He's fascinated by trucks. If he could, he would work in a truck shop, a custom garage, built somewhere on our property, and he'd work on his truck 24 hours a day. He'd probably forget to eat. He's driven an enormous red tractor trailer for Coca-Cola for the last 15 years, (you may have seen them on the freeway), he's logged over half a million miles driving it, and on top of that, he collects miniature, die-cast models of these same trucks, with the signature white Coke ribbon on the side, so he can have them near at all times. : ) And that's okay. Endearing even.

It would, however, seem reasonable, to me, to have the wall paper on the family/community computer portray something other than a truck. The heck, you say! But no. . . There, proudly displayed on the screen, (which by the way I have to look at least 20 times a day), is, you guessed it. . . a blinking truck. Sure it's painted a pretty blue color. Sure, it's tolerable to look at, easy on the eyes, but for the love of everything that is good and kind, I think that some (maybe all) of the rest of us oughta have a say in what we've gotta stare at every time we boot the thing up. Correct me if I'm wrong. . . .

Up till now I've been fairly tolerant and patient, fairly accommodating. . After all, we should respect one another's hobbies and interests, right? Right. Then the other day, my ever lovin' man brings the laptop home from work, plops down in his favorite chair, puts his feet up and flips the thing on. Lo and behold, what do you suppose catches my eye? A glorious island scene. . a tropical beach, with white sands, gentle waves, breathtaking color, billowing clouds. . . It was awe inspiring. Probably his happy place. : ) Yeah.

Needless to say, the home computer sports a truck picture no longer. We now have a spectacular mountain view of the Alps in winter gracing our most popular nook. Serene and pristine. . Blue and white and sparkling. . . . Wow. It actually relieves stress. It's motivating and relaxing. And now, when we have to do homework, or pay the bills, we mercifully get a break from my husband's all consuming, (and sometimes downright annoying) passion. . . .
TRUCKS.

POW!

My just-turned-five year old son is a great source of entertainment for me. . . entertainment and dubious reflection. . . .

Earlier, after he returned home from preschool, when my back was turned, he knocked his baby brother on the head with his miniature toy bat. .. "softly". It's not a big heavy bat, but it's a wooden bat nevertheless. His Dad had gotten it for him at the ball park.

Hearing my baby cry, I ran to investigate. "What are you doing?! I yelled. "Why is he crying? Did you hit him on the head with the bat?!"

Concerned, with furrowed brow, mostly because he knew the jig was up, he yelled back with consternation. "I did it carefully!"

There's a whole different world out there. . . The perspective of a child. Wow. What do you say to that? I felt my brain twist uncomfortably.

"You don't hit people carefully! You shouldn't be hitting him at all!"

But I knew I'd been had. You just can't argue with this kind of logic. I'd been struck speechless.

His last question, before running off to better, more enjoyable past times. . .

"Mommy, when am I getting a dog?"

JUST A MINUTE. . . .

When my husband and I first talked about how many kids we'd like to have, we felt like 4 was a good number. We figured that four children, sensibly spaced, would be a reasonable undertaking, and probably all that we could handle.

We were right. : )

Now that we have SEVEN, I find myself saying "Just a minute. . . " about 45 times a day, simply because I cannot multi-task in more than 3 or 4 different directions, or on 3 or 4 different planes, or with 3 or 4 different genres. . . It's just more than I can process all at once. As talented as I am (?) I just can't do all of those things at the same time. Plus I need sleep. : )

What to do. . . .

It's quite the dilemma, actually, as I am one of those kind of people who likes (believe it or not) to have everything planned and organized, to some extent.

I see those Super Mamas out there, makin' it happen, lipstick on, toenails done, takin' it one day at a time, but planning it all 3 months in advance, able to handle anything, always smiling, always calm. . . and I then I recall my friend and fellow 'normal' Mama saying matter-o-factly, outside of preschool one fine long-ago day. . . "I'm sure there's Prozac involved."

: )

I hold to that dream, and all it's implications. Maybe I'm not completely nuts, totally out of control. . . . Hmmm. All RIGHTY then. : )

So, Girls, let's plow ahead. . . .

Onward Christian Soldiers.

Popeye the Cellular Man

A couple of days ago, my preschool-age son said that he wanted to watch a movie. . "The Guy From Snowy River".

"You watched that last night." I said.

"How 'bout 'Popeye the Cellular Man!' " he yelled, jumping up and down.

Stumped, I hesitated. Who'd a thunk that 'cellular' was easier to say than 'sailor'.

Go figure.

Shaking my head, I smiled and handed him the disc. I love how little kids are so amusing.

And versatile.

They keep me in tears or in stitches all the day long. Sigh. . . .

Such is the life of a Mama. : )

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Step Away . . From the Tots.

I have 3 teenage boys. They like to eat. Do I need to go on? Well, actually, one's twelve, but he's a big kid. Lately, when I warm up tater-tots, a favorite dinnertime side-dish, I notice that if I leave the room for any length of time, said tots will immediately, and mysteriously, begin to disappear. They've been know to evaporate/vanish almost completely if I have to, say, answer the door, or succumb to some other unnecessary distraction.

Now I'm fairly intuitive. . . I'm thinkin' maybe, just maybe, these big boys, with sticky, ketchup hands, and sneaky expressions, lurking about the kitchen, might have something to do with these disappearances. Hmmmm. . . . . . I feel like taking an aggressive football stance, brandishing a large wooden spoon, and standing guard over the stove. Ya don't wanna mess with Mama at dinnertime.

We recently ran into a neighbor at the grocery store. He commented that we'll soon have to start hauling food home by the truckload. We smiled and laughed and gave him the obligatory wave. Our packed shopping carts said it all. To give you an idea, I went out to buy groceries one Friday night, just picking up a few things. . . Eighty bucks later, I drove home, hoping this latest purchase would last a couple of days. Not so much. By noon the next morning, it was all GONE. Those kids try to look 'cute' at school, not eating all of their lunch . . . and then they come home and inhale the fridge. Bewildered, I try in vain to find the snacks that I just brought home. Surely they must be here SOMEwhere. . . . Then I stomp back out to the car, and head back over to our local supermarket. . . . to the tune of about 8 hundred dollars a month. Ouch.

Candy Wrappers and Sucker Sticks

Okay, here's the deal. I like Halloween as much as the next gal. It's probably my 2nd favorite holiday. I have no problem with the 3 months of kids trying to decide on a particular costume, changing their minds 10 or twelve times, planning parties, ambushes, etc. . . I don't mind the black and orange decorations that invade my home beginning in August. . . but if I have to pick up another candy wrapper off of my front yard, or one more sucker stick out of the carpet. . . I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have a stroke.

Relax, you say. Soon the candy stash will be gone, and there will be no more wrappers, no more sticky gum. . . Yeah, just in time for Christmas, and CHRISTMAS CANDY!

That's right.

Why the whining, you ask? I just took 10 children for a walk. Yes, ten. They were 'helping' deliver birthday party invites. I felt like the mother of all Pied Pipers. I wasn't even playing an instrument. Our neighbor said I was a brave woman. "Somethin' . . ." I responded lamely. Earlier we had 18 kids over, playing in the yard. I felt like praying in the yard. Don't believe me? I'll name them off: Laena, Clint, Eric, Tommy, Aleia, Jeffy, Lincoln. . . Then we have Lisa, Evan, and Brooke. . . Hope, Tevita, and Sa'ane. Damon, Mytee, Audraya, Elece, AND Caitlyn. And there it is. There you have it. The thing is, when one child goes outside, they seem to attract . . other ones. . .

Get ready for a primal scream.

Tis the Season. . . .

The kids have suddenly realized, maybe because of the Christmas music, that the Holidays are approaching. Thus, we have been assaulted, this lovely Sabbath morning, by requests for all kinds of exciting Christmas presents. The children, of course, wrote their letters to Santa Claus months ago, but now that the season is officially here, they've gone into full begging/demanding mode. . . My husband and I are minding our own business, just trying to have a relatively stress-free bowl of raisin bran, and we're being attacked on all sides, particularly this morning with requests for Build a Bear. My husband commented that "They got a good racket going". Yeah, he's not kidding. $65 for a teddy bear?! Good Night! He has decided to give them all $5 gift cards from 7-Eleven. All right! : ) Did I forget to mention that we also have 3 birthdays coming up in the month of November. . . .

The Holidays are Here!

Ah, the first day of the Holiday season. Warm, wistful sigh. Seems like just yesterday we were trying to put together last minute Halloween costumes. . . My husband finally wrote "Will code HTML for food." on a piece of cardboard and tied it around his neck. . . He's pretty funny. He had the camera ready, and took pictures of all the trick or treaters as we opened the door. : ) We gave out soda. Always a big hit with the neighborhood kids.

In my house, the Christmas music starts playin' November 1st. And for all you party poopers who don't like to read Christmas letters, and answer to the name of Scrooge, may I just say TOUGH NOOGIES. I'll make sure to send you the unabridged version. The Holidays are a time for companionship, communication, and correspondence. Gettin' together, catchin' up, sending cards and letters. . . I love this time of year. I can't wait to check the mailbox. : )

"Politcal Party"

My son's birthday, I just realized, happens to land on . . . election day!

How do you throw a birthday party on election day?! Everyone will be preoccupied with issues, voting, etc.

My husband came up with a clever plan. . . "Why not have a "political party" ?" he suggested with a big grin. "Come as your favorite Democrat or Republican. No Independents allowed." Sure.

I thought that idea might be lost on a gaggle of 5 year olds. . . . Call me crazy. ; ) I think we'll just have to wait till the weekend.

Livin' on the Edge. . .

Today has been interesting. I've never liked taking the kids in to get shots, but today was absolutely 'another day in paradise'. There's nothing quite like being asked to hold your baby down, on the examination table at the doctor's office, and being obligated to look into his eyes while they stab him in the legs 3 or 4 times. . . Whatever element of trust that we had between us has definitely been breached. If my husband were here, he could do it. I'd be the one crumpled in the corner, sobbing.

Saturday night, I was doing okay. I thought I had things pretty much under control. My daughter was at a high school dance, the boy was at a friend's house, eating salmon and rice, of all things. . (wow) My other two relatively big kids were cutting up apples and playing happily together with their little brother and sister, something involving candy and a mild game of tag. The baby was content, and I was on top of the world. : ) Feelin' good, feelin' spry. : )

Then Sunday came, and all the battles that go with it . . dragging kids out of bed, what to wear, how to behave, diaper bag ready? etc. I ended up teaching a combined Primary (Sunday School) class, full of fidgety 4 year olds and 7 year olds, because my preschool-age son's regular teacher didn't show up. . . Boy oh boy. . . Monday night, I tried to make sense of the 9 children in my living room, complete with blanket 'tents', cracker crumbs, etc, and was inclined to agree with my sister-in-law, when she said that the 2 things she wanted most in the world were a back rub, and a magic wand. Turns out this is the last week of the first quarter at school, so everyone either needs to be early or stay late, all on different days of course. . .

Tuesday, my hysterical teenage daughter quit her job at Mickey D's, then immediately had misgivings, (dramatic occurrence #1). My 200 lb, 15 yr old son was last seen heading west, “kinda over by the library”, at dinnertime. His twin brother insisted that I make an elaborate werewolf costume for Halloween (hello, in 24 hours). Our 7^th grader has developed a moody streak to rival that of Pakistan's, and to top it all off, his sister built a make-shift pirate ship “plank” in the back yard out of an old bed frame, 'walked it', toppled the whole thing, and squashed her little brother. Yes, this is livin'. Livin' on the edge. The edge of my sanity. : ) I sometimes imagine 'normal' people, at their lovely, relaxed office jobs, blissfully smiling at one another, as they walk in slow motion to the water cooler. . .

The thing ya have to understand about the whole 'Mama gig' is that it's a full time job. And I mean full time. It never stops. With a normal job, you can sign off, or clock out and go home after putting in your eight hours. . . If you've signed up for the 'Mommy Ride', plan on putting in a lot of late nights, changing hundreds of diapers, mending countless 'boo boos', dealing with all kinds of irrational drama, re-learning scary math you'd hoped never to encounter after high school, and again, almost never getting enough sleep. . . (I remember how my mother's eyes glazed over as she contemplated the day when she could burn the diaper pail in the back yard while doing a little dance around it.) Right now I feel a little brain fried and frazzled. My son just told me that he thinks it'd be pretty cool to burn all the leaves that we'd raked up. Have a huge bonfire in the front yard. Hilarious you say. : ) The thing is he's serious.

My ever-lovin' husband called and said he'd bring home burritos from Cafe' Rio. These were his exact words: “Well, your sanity's worth something. . . “

I've got to come up with 7, 8, 9 Halloween costumes. Oh yeah.

My boys' favorite game of late has been 'apple squash', a version of tennis where they try to hit fallen apples from our back yard . . over the house, with a baseball bat or. . . whatever. They inadvertently make a lot of apple sauce. Sigh. I hope they miss our new kitchen windows. . . : )

But seriously, I wouldn't have it any other way. This house would be awfully boring and empty without children, creating personalized havoc in one way or another. . . I've learned that you've gotta take the good with the bad. Some days are better than others. Afternoons are always crazy, and holidays are just downright nuts. But it's all part of the adventure, all part of the roller coaster ride that we call life. And it sure is more entertaining this way. : )

Who Am I?

Blog Shmog. What this really is, is a clever way to motivate me to keep a journal. . .

Entry #1 - Who am I? Well, to sum it up, I am an accompished. . Mama. My brothers will spend 3 minutes with me, and say "You're such a MOM." I'm not quite sure how to take that. I usually look at them incredulously, then toss back something along the lines of "You will be too, when you have kids." I guess a person's focus changes after they have children. Ya think?! Duh! Anyway, what does accomplished mean? It means you have lots of experience. I think I score high in that category when it comes to Mommy time, and taking care of kids. We have 7. People usually think we're younger than we are, have less children than we do, and are almost invariably shocked, sometimes struck completely speechless, when we give them the low down. My husband is very 'young acting'. I guess he hasn't quite grown up. : ) He occasionally DJ's local dances with a friend of his, and still attends the Community College in his "spare time." You'd think the kids would see him as being a "cool Dad", which he is, but following with tradition, he tends to embarrass them anyway, probably on purpose. I, on the other hand, don't pretend to have a degree, and I'm pretty sure that my kids' friends don't really think I'm all that cool. I'm not sure how qualified I am for this position. . . not sure how I landed it in the first place. I didn't earn a degree, as did many of my 'associates', in the care and feeding of little rug rats, i.e. Childhood Development, and Elementary Education, etc, but I do have tons of experience, which counts for more nowadays anyway, right? : ) I'd like to think so. I am a Mama. And so begins the Mamablog.