Okay, so I'm not Jack Handy

That's right, Jack Handy's wit and wisdom are not lost on me. And I know I'm not him, but I do however have some deep and random thoughts that occassionally occupy my mind.....usually when I should be working or concentrating really hard on something. So here are some random thoughts I've had today:

Random thought number one:Why do they make toilet bowl cleaner that smells like peppermint? It's an incredibly intense and incredibly nauseating smell that attacks me every time I pee.

Random thought number two: Is there ever going to come a day when my fair skinned children and I can spend a day at the water park and not get sunburned? Even with a super strength SPF 70 waterproof sunscreen......the intense summer heat was determined to turn us in to a family of lobsters.

Random thought number three:I bought myself a new bathing suit on Saturday. (I haven't had a new suit in about 5 yrs). Now I'm feeling guilty, as usual, about spending the money on myself. Why is that? I will buy new stuff for myself maybe once or twice a year, and then I am wracked with guilt over it and swear of shopping for months at a time.

Random thought number four:Is it September, yet? Because I am so ready for the rug rats to go to school. I love my children, but even when they are in school it feels like I never get a break from them. I just need some "mommy time" once in a while, and I wish my family could understand that without taking it personally.


Random thought number five: Only 9 more sleeps until we go to Canada. I can hardly wait.

Random thought number six:I have gained some weight. Not a whole lot. Just a couple of pounds. But I am determined to get back on track and shed the ice cream muscle.

Random thought number seven: Sometimes this blog is the only thing that saves my sanity during the day.

Independance Day

Why doesn't anyone warn you about four? I mean, there are entire books devoted to the "terrible twos" and everybody has a horror story about the time their little Junior took off all of his clothes and ran around the playground buck nekkid before finally peeing on the slide all in the short time it took for Mom to fetch a juice box out of the diaper bag. "Oh, those terrible twos!" Insert nervous laughter here....

But four....Well, like I said, nobody warns you about the ferocious fours. Nobody tells you about Independence day. Ryker turned four this past May. This is my third time around with a four year old. And I'm having a bit of deja vu.It's almost like somebody flips a switch the day a child turns four. And gradually, they become more and more adamant about their abilities to do everything (and I do mean everything!) by themselves. No help required. Even if it takes forty minutes to tie their shoes, they do not want help! In fact, should you intervene and try to assist, let's say because you have someplace to be and can't play the "let Ryker tie his shoes by himself, he is a big boy now, who cares if it makes you drastically late for the doctor's appointment" game, screaming and crying ensues, as well as a general hatred directed towards Mama.

Ditto for pouring milk into a cup. Which is what happened this morning while I was trying to tidy up the kitchen. For the record, Ryker has never poured anything into his own cup before. Ever. Unless you count water from the bathtub, but I don't count that because that water was usually destined for his brother's head and it didn't matter if it spilled everywhere. Don't get me wrong...I want my children to go up to be confident, independent people. I want them to be able to do things for themselves and not be totally reliant on their mother at the age of thirty ("Mom, I'm late for work, could you pour me a glass of milk?"). And I'm all for learning. I realize that their little minds are at their peak right now, taking everything in and digesting it and turning it into knowledge. I get it. My only issue is that there is no lead up.

Ryker just woke up this morning and decided he was going to make his own breakfast and pour his own milk. Again and again, I might add. The little snot had four glasses of milk. Probably just because he wanted to keep pouring! I seem to remember going through this with Andrew and Randall. By the time they hit four, there was no going back. They were going to conquer the world all on their own, backpack and shoes and milk included. They got over it. They learned what they were able to do and what they needed help with. And now they're relatively independent children who are not totally reliant on mom, but they also knows when to ask for some help.

Just like the terrible twos, they do grow out of the ferocious fours.I can hardly wait.

I am the momma

Before I venture any further into this, I think I should pose the question to end all blogging questions. "Why am I doing this?" Further more, why are any of us doing this? Is it what the title suggests? Are we ego maniacs, desperate to hear ourselves speak (or rather, read what we've typed) and desperate for somebody, ANYBODY, to hear us? I'm sure we're all fairly busy people. I know that I am. My life is full to the brim, threatening to spill over at any moment. So why do we choose to sit at the computer, day after day, spilling our guts onto the screen and secretly jumping for joy every time we find out that somebody read our words?I don't know what your answer is. I only know my own.

"Mother" is what defines me best these days. And as mothers, most of us are desperate to share our stories, compare notes (and let's be honest, compare children sometimes, too!) and bounce ideas off of one another. Motherhood is so different for so many women and the way that we define ourselves as mothers varies just as greatly. I only know what kind of mother I am, what kind of mother I strive to be. I'm curious to find out what other "kinds" of mothers are out there, which is why I started reading blogs in the first place. Now I'm feeling the need to put my own two cents into the mix. And, yes, I'm secretly jumping up and down every time I get a comment which proves to me that somebody read it.

Lately, I've realized just how deep my sense of motherhood runs. It affects so much more than just the day to day humdrum of chasing after kids and wiping bums and tidying up the never ending avalanche of toys. There was a quote I read several years ago that has stuck with me. Unfortunately, I don't remember who said it...but here it is anyway. "Fatherhood is something you do. Motherhood is something you are". This is my truth. Becoming a mother has shaped me and challenged me in ways I never expected. My children are the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night. I think of them no less than two thousand and sixty-two times throughout the day. Because I truly believe that at the end of the day, it all comes down to Mama. The buck stops here. And that is a tremendous amount of pressure! And yet, it's almost ingrained in us, isn't it? We don't give it a second thought anymore...it's not what we do, it's who we are.

Once again proof that I'm an idiot

So, yesterday I got into a drag down knock out fight with my dryer. AND I nearly lost.

Don't you hate when you're just cruising along, with a plan and something comes around and screws it UP?

I'm getting ready to head out to the store, have a few errands, don't want to go, so I figure, let's just get it over with so I can get back home and play Yahtzee with the kids or something. (by he way, Yahtzee is such a cool alternative to those multiplication mad minutes I make my son do, he doesn't even realize that I'M getting over on him, not the other way around)

Ahhh....., but I digress, which actually, is the point.

I'm getting ready to jump in the shower and go to throw in a load of clothes. Dryer won't start. Oh man. It's this fancypants Whirlpool with too many setting and lights to ever figure out. Anyway, there's a hundred reasons it's not starting (the most obvious of which we'll get to in a minute) One time this happened and my husband discovered that the dryer actually runs on two separate fuses, he resets the breaker box and Voila! So I try it.

No Voila! Dang it. So, I shut off every circuit (in the process pissing off my son who's upstairs playing video games and yelling, YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME SO I COULD HAVE SAVED ......Quiet kid, you don't want to get on my bad side this second.

So naturally, I do what's next. I pull out the dryer and.....look at it from behind. You know, that same look you see when your car breaks down and you lift the hood and as if that's going to fix it on it's own.

In the process of moving the dryer, I manage to tear a gigantic hole in the vent...great! Then I notice how much lint and dog hair are back there, must clean that, can't pretend it's not there....

Dryer still isn't working, no matter how much I curse at it, push buttons or reset the fuses. MOOOOOMMMMM, you ruined my game again!!! comes from the upstairs media room.

SHUT UP!!!

I know the dryer isn't 'broke' because the little light is on inside of it.

So I go to the whirlpool website to try to get some answers. I read the troubleshooting guide:

~tried that

~did that

~yep

~What?!? Do I look like an idiot...."check the door, it might looked closed but your dryer may have an upper and a lower latch...blah blah blah....I grumble over to the dryer...."shut the door, whatever, like that's going to wor......nevermind. I never felt so stupid in my life :p

Sooooo, I then proceed to contort my body in ways that would make an exotic dancer blush and fix the vent (who invented that jackass ring/screw system anyway?) put the dryer back where it goes and now I'm ready for my shower. A well deserved and earned shower at that. Although now I'm feeling like a nap and not wanting to do my errands even more than before. Ugh! Mondays!

So am I just the worlds worst mother, or what?

Oh my gosh.....why are children so trying sometimes? My 8 year old has been testing my patience to it's breaking point lately. He is just an angry, defiant little boy and I really don't understand why. He is pouty and disrespectful in school, he's mean to his brother, he laughs in the face of authority. I honestly don't know how to deal with him. I get seriously fed up to the point that I don't know how to deal, and then I feel guilty for feeling that way. What kind of mother wants to walk away from her child and never look back?

I just wish I knew how to reach him. He won't talk or open up about his feelings. He draws violent pictures, he throws things, and hits his little brother daily. He also has toilet regression issues which I don't understand either. (Medically they can't find a reason for it) Today he tried to run away. He and his brother walk to school as it is literally a block from our house. Well, as they are getting ready to cross the street to the school, Randall decides that he's not going to school and tries to keep walking down the road (to who knows where, but he was going). Andrew grabbed him by the arm and tried to pull him across the road to school. So there they are having a screaming tug of war IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET. The school principal had to go break it up and bring him into the school. What must she think of me as a mother?

I know that God gave me this child for a reason, but right now I feel like I'm incapable of being a good parent. I don't have the patience for him, I don't know how to understand him, how to let him know that it's okay to tell me his feelings instead of being angry and destructive. Please don't get me wrong, I love my son.....immeasurably. I really just wish I knew what to do.

Goodbye, Sweet Maddie!!

This past week our family lost our beloved momma spaniel, Maddie. She was a wonderful girl and great momma. We just recently moved into a new house in an undeveloped neighborhood. She, her mate and her litter (3 adorable pups) were out in the backyard playing while my sons and I were moving things from the garage into the house. Before the night was over she was gone; bitten by a snake while trying to protect her babies.

Our house has been much quieter now as the joy she brought our family has been silenced. We made a massively difficult, yet completely unselfish decision to rehome her mate, as he is just so broken hearted without her here. A friend of ours in Alabama is a breeder and has a lot of dogs and a lot of land. She was willing to give him a wonderful home. So, now I am left with an orphaned litter of babies to care for. I'm not sure what it will be like when the find forever families.

I really do hope that animals have spirits and that there is a special place for my Maddie at the Father's feet. If any dog deserved a heaven, it is her. RIP Lady Madelyn (June 21, 2005 - May 7, 2008)

I think I'm in love with my ward

(OK, to clear up any confusion with my non-LDS readers.....a ward is another name for my LDS church congregation that I attend.)

I have been a member of my church my entire life. I was born into it, baptized into it, served many callings in many capacities. I've walked away from it.... and come back. And I've struggled, epsecially since getting married to remain active. I've been in wards where the members were indifferent, the leaders were cold and the feeling was not one that embraced what I feel that the church should be. I've had bishops I've loved, and more that I haven't -- and I've NEVER felt comfortable in Relief Society. I've always embraced callings that would take me out of Relief Society on Sundays because I've just never felt the kinship and sisterhood that I imagine this group is supposed to be.

All that changed when I moved to Texas. I have been blessed beyond measure to have found myself in this ward. From the first week we moved here, I had neighbors from the church at my home before I even knew that people knew we were moving in. (Thank you, Dee Adams) My children have been invited into primary with open arms.....even when months go by that my inactive self takes over and my kids miss weeks of Sunday School at a time. My visiting teachers have not missed a month in 4 years. Even if we can't physically get a face to face connection each month, I know I can expect a phone call, email or letter in my mailbox so that I know I am still thought about. Never in my life have I been so impressed with a group of sisters. For the first time in the almost 14 yrs I've been attending relief society, I feel at ease. I feel like these women really care about me as a person, as a fellow daughter of God. I don't get made to feel like a pariah if I only come to church once every six months. I am still invited in and welcomed as if I'd never been gone. I have been invited by other mothers to come share time with them and their kids, and I really, truly feel that this is the place I'm supposed to be. This is the ONE ward that is going to help me fully embrace getting totally back into church. This is the ward that has helped me to fill the void that I have felt about the church for so many years. I don't know how to put into words the gratitude I feel toward you all (I know some of you read here....so this is a shout out to you) There are a few individuals I want to especially thank just because you have meant so much to me since moving here: Sally, Windy, Allie, Mindy, and Maren.....without your love and support I don't know that I would have the courage to still muddle my way through and at least make the attempts that I have. Few as they have been.....I have a feeling that it's only going to get better from here.