The good earth..

I am not afraid of heights. Really. I am not. I don't have a problem flying, hiking, looking at the Grand Canyon... Well, I guess if I had my kids with me, the Grand Canyon may freak me out a little.

I am more afraid of falling. Falling to my death. Or worse, falling and not dying.

This week, Hubs and I went to Telluride, a truly beautiful and amazing place. It is surrounded by stunning mountains and looks and feels like the the old west. 

On the first day we were there, we decided to take a trip up the mountain because there were some great biking trails and a little village on top.

The only thing is that we had to ride in what I like to call "The Box of Death" but locals call it The Gondola.

You get it this box that is hanging on a wire. Yes a wire. And then the door closes and you are locked in. It wobbles and it is pretty noisy. I was a little shaky but okay. That is until my husband decided he needed to get pictures from every window. This means that the Box of Death is now swinging, back and forth, side to side.

 (This is me, scared.)

I made him sit down. He was laughing, having a good time at my expense until the box stopped moving. It just stopped. Just my luck.

**This is Hub's attempt at looking scared, or mocking me. I think it looks more like he is trying to eat his fingers, which is also terrifying if you think about it.**

Don't get me wrong. The view was amazing. And I was not terrified. Just nervous. I couldn't help but think that my Gondola was going to be the one to come loose and I would then plummet to my death...into those beautiful trees and greenery.

Apparently, this is normal, the stopping, not the paranoia.. The tram stops randomly, though I'm not quite sure why, but it does start running again after a few people have wet themselves minutes.

The worst part for me, though, was when the windowed casket would come to these little gems:

It is at this point that I am sure we are going to fall off the wire and tumble down the side of the mountain. It is at this point that I have to close my eyes and cover my ears. It is at this point that I want to scream:

"Get me out of this thing!!!"

But then I see what my kids call "Base" aka Safety, aka the EXIT.

The ground never felt so good!!

Excuse me....

Hubs and I were gone this week from Wednesday until Friday...alone. All alone. It has been 10 years since we have been alone. All alone.  It was so nice! Now I remember why I married this guy. He is really quite amazing. And the coolest thing? He still likes me too.

And that, my friends, is why I have been MIA from my bloggedy-blogging this week. But I am sure you understand. (Plus you know I will share some of it with you...I'm good like that.)

And so today, you get to read one of my favorite poems. I wish that I could say that I wrote it, but then the guilt would take over my thoughts, you know how I feel about guilt. I am not sure who wrote it, but she could have been writing about my house.

Enjoy and I will be back in full force tomorrow!!

Excuse This House

Some houses try to hide the fact

that children shelter there.

Ours boasts of it quite openly,

The signs are everywhere.

For smears are on the windows,

little smudges on the doors;

I should apologize, I guess

for toys strewn on the floor.

But I sat down with the children,

we played, laughed and read;

And if the doorbell doesn't shine

their eyes will shine instead.

For when at times I'm forced to choose

the one job or the other;

I want to be a house wife-

but first I'll be a mother.

Truth or Dare

We were about 40 miles away from the final CA destination and wouldn't you know, someone had to go and of course they couldn't hold it. So we pull into the gas station and proceed to unload..the kids. My husband was out first with 3 of the boys and I was getting out my daughter (who amazingly can hold it for 12 hours...like mother like daughter, I guess) and the baby.

Hubs and the boys were loitering by the newspaper stands waiting for us. We walk up and I notice Brody putting down the cover for the "Emergency Shut-Off" button. ("Oh no he didn't." Just wait...)

"Brody, you better not push that button. If you do, no-one will be able to put gas in their cars," I told him.

"Too late," he matter-of-factly replied, "I already did,"

I look around. At this point, nothing has exploded, no alarms are sounding and people aren't running around yelling, "What happened to the gas?!?!" I took that as a good sign.

Into the station we go. Of course the line for the ladies' room is super long but the boys get right in... all four of them.  While standing in the ridiculously long line, I notice that people are coming in, complaining that something was wrong with their pump. There is no gas.

After a few more people come in complaining, one of the tellers says, "I think it was one of those kids that pushed the button." Lucky for me, all the boys were in the restroom with Hubs and so I pretended not to know anything about it. Is that horrible? Apparently all they have to do is push a button behind the counter and the gas comes back on, so I didn't feel the need to turn my son in and have him taken to juvie.

And whose idea was it to paint all the important buttons bright red: Emergency Shut Off buttons, fire alarms, etc?

Don't they know that from the ages of 18 months to 10 years red means "Push me. I dare you."

Peaches, Seeds and Laundry

Kerri over at The Pleasures of My Life gave me this award a little over a week ago and I feel bad that I haven't even thanked her for it. I love her blog. She is so creative and always impresses me. Plus she is an ASL interpreter too. Small world, yeah? You need to visit her blog. Always a good place to go.

So now you get to learn 7 more random things about me.

1. For some reason, everytime I go to get a pedicure I forget to shave me legs. It is quite embarrassing and a little awkward. Do I apologize to the sweet lady rubbing my legs? Do I just sit there and act like my legs are always like this? I always swear that "next time" I will surely shave. Then I get there next time and...gulp. TMI? So sorry.

2. I love peaches.  I like them fresh off the tree. But the best is when they are peeled, with a little sugar and some cream. Delicious. I gotta find me some peaches.

3. Hubs wants to go on a mountain bike ride on our anniversary trip to Colorado. I don't know if he forgot that I have 30+ pounds of baby weight still hanging on. I will try. I may die. But I will die trying.

4. I can't do a road trip without sunflower seeds. And a soda for that matter. They just are a great combination. Attractive, I know, but it is a roadtrip...who looks hot on a road trip? Not me.

5. I keep waiting for the day when my kids will sleep in past 7am. When does that happen. Seriously? Can someone tell me? Anyone? My kids are usually up somewhere around 5:30-6:30am depending on the time of year. Once in a blue moon they will sleep to 8am, but only because I drugged them the night before they were up really late the night before.

6. Does anyone else love the feeling you get when cleaning out your ears? Is it just me? *Awkward silence.* Me either.

7. I love the smell of laundry. The clean kind...thought I should clarify on that. Nothing like going on a walk and passing a house that is obviously drying laundry. Ahhhhh!!

And now here are some of the blogs I have recently found and love. Check them out!!

House of Sarager

Ahhnna

A Daily Scoop

Be Still a Minute

Nature Girl

Okie Rednecks

Happy reading everyone!

Pull over!

Isn't disciplining your kids fun to do sometimes? You see, before the summer, when my kids would act up we would send them outside to move pavers...you know those little bricks that you use to make walkways in your yards? Yeah, those. We have them move them from one side of the yard to the other side and stack them...then move them back.

It is so much fun.

Since the summer started, however, my husband felt it would be more productive to have them pull weeds when they get in trouble. Great!  I have a garden that needs to be tended to, and enough naughty children to keep it nice. Perfect!

Well, on our 20 hour drive home, my two kids started to fight. And they wouldn't stop. You see, we were having a Shrek Marathon (because what else is there to do in a car for 20 hours). We were on the second movie and my daughter calls that she gets to be Puss in Boots.

"I want to be Puss in Boots, too!" replies my 5 year old son.
"You can't because I called it first and I am him." she responded.
Weeping begins, "Mommy, I want to be Puss in Boots, but Kyla says that I can't because she is."
"You both can be Puss. It's your imagination, hello! You can be him too."
Daughter whispering but not really, "You can't. I am him so that means you can't be Puss."
Weeping and wailing follows... You get the picture.

We are in the last 6 hours of our trip, and I didn't care if anyone was Puss in boots. So I turn around and tell them that if they kept fighting about it, then we would pull over and they could pull the weeds on the side of the road.

We are talking I-40 people. That is some road. And those are some weeds. Yes-indeedy.

They didn't believe me, of course. And so to the side of the road we went. They stomped out of the van, appauled that I would make them pull the weeds in a field of weeds. I had them walk far away from the road (because safety is almost always first) and made sure that there were plenty of weeds to be pulled.

They hopped back in and started the fighting again, so I had them get out again and pull more.

It. Was. Awesome. Pure genius, if I do say so myself.

I have never been so grateful for weeds in my life.

Where in the world...

Can you guess where we went on Wednesday...aka the last day of California?

Yup. We went to the chilly beaches of northern California. It was only an hour drive there (3 hours coming back through traffic...ugh.) But we all thought we were going to barf because of all the switchback roads we had to go on. But luckily we survived, stomachs intact.

We were afraid that it was just going to be so cold that we wouldn't enjoy ourselves. But once we got there, the water was nice. We didn't swim, mind you, only we waded in the waves, attempted to make sand castles and caused seagulls to fight over the crackers they stole from our basket. 

It was a lot of fun.

We are home now and it is so nice to be home. But we did have a blast visiting family and hanging out poolside.

The next few days will be tales from our trip...and there are some doozies, let me tell you! So stay tuned. Until then, I must wade through the laundry and clean out that box we have lived in for the last 20 hours, aka the van.

Enjoy your weekend!

"It's what we do"

"We go to church on Sunday. It's just what we do."

This is what I always tell my kids when they complain about having to go to church. Whether it is "I don't want to go to church." or "Church is boring." or "I hate church," the reply is always the same. "We go to church on Sunday. It's just what we do."

We knew that we were going to be in California on a Sunday and so I made sure that I had packed all the church clothes that we needed. Or so I thought. When we were getting ready on Sunday, we found that we had forgotten my husband's white shirt.

At our church, it is usually white shirts and ties that you see the men wearing. Not because it is a requirement, but I guess people want to wear their very best, which most times means the men are in white shirts and ties. Sometimes they wear light blue or lightly striped shirts. But overall it is mostly conservative.

So when we found out my husband's shirt hadn't made it into the suitcase, I suggested he borrow one of his dad's shirts. The other option was to wear his "Look at what P90X has done for my muscles"t-shirt. He opted to borrow a shirt. 

Until he came in with this:

I think we will be missing church this week.