Women who know....

Oh, my friends. I keep waiting for things to settle down. But the more I wait, the less they settle, and I am realizing that this is just how life is with growing children.

It's kind of like after having a baby. You keep looking for that routine that you had before and guess what. It ain't coming back. Not in this lifetime. You just develop a new one. 

I am not a developer.

"Stop whining," you say. What I wish you would say is this, "If you don't stop whining I am going to put you in Time Out." At which point I would continue whining long enough to get a substantial amount of Time Out time but not too long to trigger the 'extra job' punishment as well.

Kids just don't appreciate Time Out.

Back to my point...I keep searching for some time to just slow down and enjoy my children; to not be rushing to make dinner, or rushing to do homework, or losing my patience because things are a mess. But the more I look, the less time I find.

I think about a talk that Julie B. Beck, the leader of the women's organization in my church, gave regarding women who understand the importance of motherhood,

"Mothers who know do less. They permit less of what will not bear good fruit eternally. They allow less media in their homes, less distraction, less activity that draws their children away from their home. Mothers who know are willing to live on less and consume less of the world’s goods in order to spend more time with their children—more time eating together, more time working together, more time reading together, more time talking, laughing, singing, and exemplifying. These mothers choose carefully and do not try to choose it all. Their goal is to prepare a rising generation of children who will take the gospel of Jesus Christ into the entire world. Their goal is to prepare future fathers and mothers who will be builders of the Lord’s kingdom for the next 50 years. That is influence; that is power."

Source

I am a woman who knows but still did too much. Some of it is the natural stretching that comes with being a mother of 5 children. They all have needs...you know, like eating and bathing and socializing and playing and having clean clothing and getting an education, sleeping. But I also want them to be well rounded. So most of my children are in activities. Normally I let them take turns. But for whatever reason, all but my 2 year old is in something. 

I go to bed at night flustered because I feel like my kids are slipping through my hands. I feel like I don't get enough time to let them feel my love for them. I tell them all the time, but feeling it is a totally different thing. I do so much for them, but when you are a child, laundry and cooking and cleaning and driving and shopping and working do not translate into love. 

To children, love is spelled T.I.M.E. And this is something that I have made nearly impossible to give. 

I have always thought that it was a matter of balance, but balance just isn't the right word. Balance is completely impossible, because balance means giving equal time to all things. Prioritizing the most important things seems to be my struggle. 

How do you do it? How do make sure you have time for scriptures and personal prayer and family time and playing time with all your kids? Is it possible to do it all? Or at least most of it? You are all so amazing and I could really use your advice. 

How do you do it?  

What is that smell?

I smell.

No, I don't mean that I stink...although you would have disagreed with me if you stood next to me in the grocery line this morning after my rigorous Zumba workout. Yeah, I did smell.

What I mean is that I have a sensitive nose. If there is a good smell or a bad smell...it will be smelled. I love to smell my hair when I am bored; my hands when they are lotioned, my clothes when they are clean. I dread walking into my house and smelling my unpotty trained child's diaper that wasn't taken all the way outside, the burnt toast from this morning and the overall Rufus smell that constantly fills the air.  

But if you think my nose is bad, my son's is worse. He really smells.

He has always had a sensitive nose. This kid would never wash his pillowcase if he has his way because then it doesn't smell like...well...his night head sweat.

I knew he was going to be a sniffer at a very young age. Two to be exact.

He wouldn't shake hands with people when he was little because he didn't want to smell like them. If friends put one of his toys in their mouth he wouldn't play with it again. Ever. I remember cuddling him close to me and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He wiped it off with his hand, then lifted that hand to his nose and took a long whiff.

Yup. Natural born sniffer.

I am not quite sure how the two of us are going to survive these stinky, p-u-berty years....

Any suggestions??



Linking up with Jen Matlock's ABC Thursdays.

By the way, tomorrow is my recipe group here. We are making foods made with Citrus...lemons, limes, oranges. If you have any you want to share, LMK and I can linky it up on Friday.

So I Married a Deaf Man: Somebody...Anybody???

You rush into the bathroom, just grateful that you made it without incident. Relief. Until.... you look over for some two-ply goodness and all you get is a cardboard cylinder.

"Who was the last person to use this restroom?? Grrrr.... Now what am I gonna do? Errr...ummm.... Wait, Hubs is just down the hall. I will yell to him for help. HEEEEEEEEELP!!"

In he comes, your hero, to save the day. It makes you forget that he was the one who cleaned out the last of the TP and didn't replace it. 

You don't know how lucky you are, my friends.

Hubs' story is exactly like yours. He enters, realizes that he forgot to replace the toilet paper last time, because I would never forget, and he yells for me. I come in, with the missing roll and Voila! Done.

Here's how my story goes.

I barley make it to the can. Relief. Until..."What the...Oh fiddlesticks! Ummm...errrr...what am I gonna do? Wait, I hear someone. Hey! Hey Hey Heeeeeeeey!!!"

Nothing. Nothing at all.

"Great. Hubs is just in the other room. There is no way to get his attention. That's just great. Just lovely. Now what?"

If I had my phone and he had his phone I could text him. If we had a light that flashed on his video phone I could call him. If there was a light switch right next to the toilet and he was in the next room I could flash him. If he was in close range, I could throw something at him.

Unfortunately, in my haste to simply make it to the pot dry, I didn't make sure these scenarios were in place. And at this point I am out of options. Or at least out of options that I wish to discuss on this forum.

Just me and my cardboard cylinder.

The End.

May I have your attention, please!

No-one can say that I don't pay attention to my children.

No-one.

Nevermind that my little rascal writes on my wall. Okay, so it's walls. But who is counting? 

Surely you have made it to the grocery store before realizing that only two of the five children you took with you have on shoes. The others...not so much. C'mon! You've been there.

Yeah, I know there are brand-spanking-new markers floating around outside in Rufus' water bucket. Who do you think put them there? Wait a minute....that wasn't me. But I knew it was going to happen the minute I pulled out the paper for him to draw on with said markers. That's just the natural order of things...right? No?

Dirty faces. Empty gum wrappers in my purse. The rock collection on the floor.  All proof that I pay attention to my little ones.

But the best one happened this weekend.

Apparently Briggy made his way into the bathroom where all his diapers are kept. The Sam's Club sized diapers. He thought it a good idea to test those puppies out. In the sink. Yes, he did. He filled it up with both diapers and water. And then more water. And then more water. 

Yes, those diapers can hold a ton more than I could have dreamed possible.

Literally.

All I can say is I'm grateful it wasn't filled with something else.

That would have got my attention.

Just stuff

Okay, do you remember when I told you I couldn't wait for school so that things could slow down a bit.

I think I was delirious when I said that. Things are anything but slowed down over here. Yes, I know it is the first week of school and things will calm down as the weeks go by. But this one has been a doozy!

Four of my children are in school this year. This will be our first year with them attending two different schools: elementary and middle school. This means two different drop off and pick up times. A new challenge for us. Plus school starts a little earlier and gets out an hour earlier...something I will love....eventually.

Middle school is kicking our butts. My son, sweet boy that he is, has cried every day this week. Yesterday I went to pick him up and I am not kidding...he had three text books, two binders and three notebooks. Not to mention 2 locks and all the other crap that goes into a locker. His bag was literally ripping at the seams.

I saw him moping up the street and it made me want to cry. He drops into the car, declaring, "I can't go back to that place. Please don't make me. Please, Mom. I hate that place." Poor kid. He can't stand being late and so in order to avoid being late he will not go to his locker. At all.

I tried talking him through it. In the end, I ended up going with him to his locker this morning and told I would do so every morning until he felt comfortable. Middle school is so hard. I'm not sure we will survive the month if today goes bad. Sigh....

To top it off I agreed to coach Brody's soccer teams and got suckered into coaching Camden's too. If I hadn't, neither of my boys would have been able to play soccer this year. So this last week has been filled with coaching meetings, calling parents, team meetings, setting up blogs. A lot more work than I had time for...but it's for my kids. How can I say no?

Oh, yeah. And flag football practice has started. That's 2 hours on Tues and Thurs. But this, to me, is a blessing. You see, I have to leave for work before these practices are over. So Hubs takes all the kids and I have 2 hours to myself 2 days a week. It is going to be my saving grace.

He's a good man, that Hubs.

One week down....only 40 weeks left.

So I Married a Deaf Man: Ride like the wind....

Hubs likes to mountain bike. Not sure I have ever mentioned that here, but it is true. He loves it almost as much as he loves me. Almost.

Well, early this morning he left me to our not-yet-set-in-stone-morning-routine while he went riding in the mountains just out of town. He took an interpreter friend of his with him. Good thing, too.

Hubs was leading, the little daredevil. He noticed that his riding buddy was pretty far back so he stopped. Once his friend pulled up next to him, he told Hubs that he heard something. He listened a little more intently but didn't hear anything anymore, so they shrugged it off, assuming it was his bike.

One should never assume. Ever.

They continued on their ride for a few more minutes and Hubs again stopped to wait. Up comes his friend, with a terrified look on his face, pointing up the mountain about 10 yards, "We have to go. There is a bear!" Hubs looked up, and sure enough, there was a bear on all fours. Thankfully, it was running away. Unfortunately it was running in the direction of their trail.

Hubs and friend decided to go off the beaten path to avoid being bear breakfast. Once they got to a clearing, there was the bear again. He had circled around them and was now headed in the new direction they had chosen.

"Gulp!" I am pretty sure that is what Hubs did. I know I would have. Actually, I would have wet my pants first. Then gulped. But that's just me.

Again, they searched for a more direct route.

Luckily they were near the ski slopes and the way was very clear. Hubs and friend flew down the mountain. Hubs said he didn't even touch his brakes. He was complaining of whiplash this afternoon.

See, bears are scary.

But what was more scary to me was the fact that if Hubs hadn't had his friend with him, he could have been attacked by that bear. He wouldn't have had any clue that there was a bear there. At least not until it was too late.

Now Hubs is talking about bringing a gun when he rides alone on the mountains. Like that's going to be useful!.

Personally, I would go with Depends.

**Linking up with Jen Matlock.

Raw hide!

You wouldn't catch me dead on a roof. They are steep, they are slippery and they are dangerous. People die falling off those things.

Uhuh, no way you would catch me dead up there. Sunbathing, yes. Dead, no.

Sunbathing? A mother of five children? What are you thinking????

Not now, sillies. This happened back when I was a freshman in college. You know, back when I cared if I was tan or not. When I cared if I had tan lines. Back when I actually looked forward to getting into a swimsuit. Back when I was childless, single, and stupid.

You see, I have always been white. Like really white. As in I have to burn 5 times before I match the Peach Crayola crayon. Yeah, white.

I went to college in a small town, Easter Arizona College in Thatcher AZ. A very small school full of fun people. I loved it.

My first year I lived in a small, rundown, on it's last leg house with 8 other girls. It was known as the Passion Palace. Yes, I know. It sounds really bad. But it was a lot of fun.

A lot of memories made in that house. (I think one of my roommates made a baby there, but let's not get into that now.)

One of them was attempting to make ourselves more tan. We would climb the tree, with towel, water, and readings in hand and make our way to the top of the house. We would set up shop and waste away the afternoon on the top of our world.

We could see everything from there. The school. The small convenient store. The people. The cars. But mostly the sun. I think we may have even put Crisco on our legs. Lovely.

I was tanner than I have ever been.

Never mind that I may have given myself skin cancer. Never mind that the cars and people passing by got a peep show. Never mind that I could have rolled off the roof and impaled myself with a tree branch.

Then I would have been caught dead on my way off a roof.

But at least I was tan...ish.

What interesting thing have you done a roof?