Kicking and Screaming

But not literally. It wouldn't be dignified. And it sets a bad example for the children. ;)

This week--aside from the birthdays Monday and Friday--is a flurry of last minute wardrobe checks, voice practices and studying. Why? Because the ENTIRE FAMILY is speaking in church this Sunday. And the kids are singing.

Like how I got out of that? Yeah, I'm pretty proud of myself.

Next week will be a different kind of flurry. And not necessarily a happy one. Because on August 1, my husband is flying to LA for a month to work.

And I haven't told the kids yet. I know; I'm a coward. Really I don't want to put a damper on their speaking engagement Sunday, or my daughter's birthday tomorrow. So we'll tell them Sunday night or Monday.

I'm going to miss him. I hate that he's leaving, even though financially it will be very good for us. And it's not like we haven't done this before.

So, you might ask, what's the problem?

Bryan and I function as parents very, very well when we're together. Alone, either of us is about 30 percent effective. I don't know what causes the drop, but honestly, it's true.

Many of you may not know, but I started out my marriage like this. By the time I was pregnant with Brandon, Bryan was gone for sometimes weeks with his job. Then he joined the over the road crew when the twins were babies, and for most of their first year was in Wyoming for 3 weeks of every month--and home for 6 days. No kidding. He quit because the boys hardly recognized him when he'd come home, and it broke his heart.

When we moved to UT, Bryan was still driving. So he was gone a lot. But I love the big lug, and none of this experience has made it any easier to let him go for a month.

And I have to the the grown up, mature one about it. Smile, nod, hug, and let him go.

I hate being mature.

But, you know I'll do it. Because it's what's best. And, hopefully, this will be the last time.

Learning from Simple Moments

Yesterday, on a whim, I took the kids to our city pool. Though some of them have gone there on field trips, and my oldest took his swimming lessons there--I've never gone. This is partly due to the fact that, up until a couple months ago, most of my kids were afraid of the water and couldn't swim.

A little background. I love swimming. I grew up in AZ and, even though we didn't have a pool, I had ready access to other pools. I swam a lot. In fact, I was swimming the day my dad died. But I digress. Seriously, I love the water. I love swimming. And I miss it.

We're going to skip over my pathetically out of shape form and my equally pathetic swimsuit and get right to the fun part. The kids about raised the roof when I told them we were going to the pool. It cost us $10 to get in, but I think I can manage that a couple times a month. It's really worth it.

The pool is actually 3 pools. They have the baby pool, which is at it's deepest about 2 ft. They have the current pool, which is actually where we spent most of our time. At it's deepest it's about 3.5 feet, but has a fun current you can laze away in or a water slide.

And that's where I got stuck. Oh, my goodness. I LOVED the slide!

See, I'm one of those people who learned pretty early on that mortality touches everyone. In short, everyone dies. And it could come at any time. And as part of a financially impaired (like the PC there lol) family growing up, I didn't have a ton of opportunities to do crazy, fun stuff. I did my share, but they didn't involve heights, water slides, or upside down roller coasters.

And I hate heights. Seriously. Hate. Them. I freak out when my husband tries to put me on his shoulders, and he's only 6'2".

But about five years ago, I was faced with a choice. And I realized that, for my kids, I have to take risks. I don't want them to grow up with my silly fears. And I don't want to be the mom who "doesn't do that." More, though, I don't want my fears to influence their thinking.

So I rode the upside down roller coaster. With my eyes shut. Screaming the whole time. And had a blast.

Back to the water slide. I kept my eyes on the steps in front of me going up, and didn't think overly hard about the height. The slide itself curves, so you can't really see how high you are. Easy peasy. And I had my 6 yr old with me. I can't let her see my fear, or she might decide to be afraid. We sat down, and launched ourselves into the slide.

And we had a blast. And went back. Again. And again. And again. :)

If you've ever been to Lagoon Park in Farmington, UT, you know about every year they add a new ride. When I took my son as a reward for reading 10,000 minutes last year, the newest ride was Wicked. If you don't know, they launch you almost straight up, take you over this tiny hump, and then drop you straight down. Then you go around the rest of the track.

My chest gets tight just thinking about it. But, with my son, I did it. I was scared his thin frame might shoot out of the restraints the whole time, but we survived.

At it's most base level, I know why I do these things that scare me. It's noble and all that I want my kids to live uninfluenced by my irrational fears, but it's deeper than that.

I refuse to be ruled by my fears. I will not live a life of fear.

And, in the meantime, I get to have some serious fun with my kids at the pool.

I've Got a Great Man

And he's not even here to defend himself!

I've got a lot of respect for a man who fulfills his commitments. That doesn't make him perfect, but it does make it easier to overlook the little annoying things he may do. And I've got one of those men.

Bryan was divorced just a couple weeks after I met him. That's nearly 15 yrs ago. In May, his daughter, who turned 18 last fall, graduated high school. That heralded the end of his child support obligation. He didn't have a perfect record, especially in those early years, of being current or always on time, but he did catch up on all those payments and has been current ever since.

He called the state offices back in February to see what had to be done to make sure the deductions from his paycheck stopped at the right time, and was told he didn't have to do anything. It was in the computer and would stop on time.

But Bryan works for the Federal Gov't. Sad. They need a specific form from AZ in order to stop deducting the amount from his pay. And guess what? AZ didn't send them the order to desist. Last week, Bryan got a check in the mail for the amount of child support taken from his check.

That's right, people. AZ is receiving money from Bryan's TSA checks and issuing it, in check form, to him. And mailing it to him.

Dollar signs of indignation are going off in my head. Imagine the money wasted by the state of AZ child support enforcement division because of this. I can't imagine this is the only time it's happened. The obligation to pay has ended, but the money keeps being taken from the checks and sent to AZ. They don't send it to the payee, since the obligation has ended, so they issue a check that is mailed back to the payer. Now multiply that by 50 states. Insanity, thy name is gov't.

Okay, so it's a downer for us, too. It's nice when an obligation is done to be able to close the mental file and have it be over. Now we have to wait. And since Bryan is camping this weekend, he's going to have to wait to make his phone calls and try to get the wheels squeaking along next week. Sigh.

Oh, and the only way he can contact his particular caseworker directly is via fax. They won't give out her phone number because of the propensity some paying fathers have to be belligerent.

Rant over. I just had to get that out somewhere. I understand the need for the noncustodial parent to help pay for their child's needs. I may have mentioned it, but my parents divorced when I was 4 and my mom's biggest complaint was my dad never paid or didn't pay it all. And I know there are a ton of deadbeat dads out there, and that we're all lucky to have been in this situation and have it work out so well.

But now I'm ready for it to be over.

And this blog background may need to be changed. I reminds me of chocolate and makes me hungry. ;)

Peek A Boo

I don't make it on to this blog like I know I should. There's something off in the balance, because I'm a mother first and foremost. I could claim that, between my two jobs and Mommy-ing, I don't have time to blog about it--but the truth is I've been kind of dry on topics. Sometimes it's hard to see from the trenches. :)


At the end of May, we took a family trip down to Phoenix to see my stepdaughter graduate high school. AMAZING. Oh, and the ceremony was good too. Seriously, though, that girl just rocks my world. I was not so driven and motivated at her age. I felt lucky just to have survived that long. But she's got a plan, and great grades, and scholarships--the world is literally at her feet. And she's gorgeous to boot. I'm so proud of her, and so happy for her.


On the same trip, we met up with Papa and sent my number 2 son with him to Oklahoma for a visit. This kid is in HEAVEN being spoiled by his grandparents. I'm pretty sure they're having a good time, too. I love all my kids, but this one has a special way about him. He's so gentle and caring and compassionate I know he's not just mooching their attention and not giving anything back. And he was so excited Sunday when we called him and I said we'd call him every Sunday. I like knowing we made the right choice. He was supposed to go last year to visit, but I just don't think he was emotionally ready. This year it's working out great.


My youngest also graduated kindergarten this year. She's now bragging to everyone that she's a first grader. Her teacher didn't have enough room for all the nice things she had to say about her. What a fun way to wrap up my procession of children. (remind of that when she's 12 and driving me crazy lol)

And, even though I get next to nothing done writing-wise, I do love summer. I love having the kids out of school, if only so I can appreciate it that much more when they go back. Kidding. I think. This August, all 5 of them will be in school all day long. Supposedly that will free up time during the day for me to write--but since I still have the day care baby and her terrible two's, maybe not.


My remaining twin is coping well with his brother being in Oklahoma. He sometimes has that lost look about him, like he's missing an arm or half his brain, but most of the time he behaves like himself. I hesitate to say normally--that's such a loaded word.

And my other daughter, of course, is still a challenge to decipher. Today she wants to be a rock star and perform for her new friends, even though yesterday she freaked out when the boy downstairs told her he likes her. I just looked at her and said, "What do you expect? You're adorable. It's going to happen." So she shrugged and decided to be okay with it. Later she told me it's tough being the friend of a boy, because everyone else thinks he's your boyfriend. Sigh. I remember that all too well.


My oldest son is the topic of my Tooele Mommies blog post today. He's all fired up to be an 8th grader, and didn't hesitate to point out when he's a freshman in high school his big sister will be a sophomore in college. Yes, son--I know you're growing up. I still remember you when you were tiny, so don't push it. :)

Oh, and I got to see a movie this week! You probably have no idea how rare that is. My mom took me to see, of all things, Shrek Ever After. Cute, and a nice tie up of the series. Hopefully they won't push their luck and try to do another one.

Creativity and Motherhood

I believe, passionately, that everyone has at least one talent. Discovering that talent should be a priority in all our lives.

Now it's also true that some people seem to have MANY talents. Sometimes I think that I come across that way. But the truth is, I only have the one talent. Creativity. It manifests in different ways--drawing (which I hardly do anymore), writing, baking, sewing, taking pictures--but it is essentially a single talent.

Fortunately, creativity is a talent that serves me well in my role as a mother. But there's difficulty making time to exercise my creativity in healthy outlets. The primary outlet I've chosen, because I can do the most good with it, is writing. Occasionally I will let myself believe what others have said about my skills. Most of the time I deflect compliments because they make me uncomfortable. But the truth is, there are a LOT of talented, creative authors out there. Which is a good thing, since variety is the spice of life.

But having an overabundance of creativity often clashes with my duties as a wife, mother and day care provider. Not that I can really call watching one toddler a day care. But I have enough experience with children to confidently call myself a professional. That's another story.

Here's an example of what happens when I don't exercise my writing demons frequently enough: Yesterday I showed up early to pick up my kids from school. I chose to use the time to relax, and parked under a shade tree at the nearby church, turned on my iPod and played Pyramid Solitaire while listening to music.

After a few minutes, a white car pulled into the parking lot. It drove all the way to the back of the lot and sat there for ten minutes. During those ten minutes, my imagination took me on a wild ride where the occupants of the car fight, one shoots the other and dumps the body, then drives by my van on the way out and fires some shots at me. What would I do if I was suddenly a witness to murder? How would I protect myself and my family if the murderer came after me? It went on from there.

Remember, all that white car did was drive into the parking lot and sit there for a bit before pulling out again. In reality, not much different than what I did. But my mind ran with it.

The other problem I have is turning off my brain long enough to fall asleep. Did you know that insomnia is defined as an inability to fall asleep within 15 minutes of starting to try to sleep more frequently than once or twice a month? Guess what--I'm an insomniac. Why? Because it takes me no less than 45 min to 2 hours to fall asleep EVERY NIGHT. And it doesn't matter if I go to bed at midnight or 9pm. It's the same thing. Lately I turn on my iPod and listen to music and play games until my eyes refuse to stay open. It actually works, though it does mean if I want to go to sleep around 11 I have to start my ritual around 10.

Otherwise I'll just lay there, going over story scenarios and scenes and plots from my existing stories forever.

Here's where I'm lucky. My kids and hubby are universally supportive of my writing. My kids even pray I'll get published, which is what I credit for my current publishing contract. Once I was under contract, my youngest started to pray that I'd be published "all the way," which to her means a book in hand. Gotta love that kid.

It's great to be able to be myself in my little family, and have them love me anyway. I'm blessed, and I'm grateful.

Now I can spell it.

I t. See, I spelled it. K, end of post.

Kidding.

Here's the word I learned to spell: epinephrine. Had to look it up and everything. Why? Well, I figured if something was going to be injected into my body, I should at least know how to spell it.

I know what you're thinking. Why? Why did I have my little brush with epinephrine? As it turns out, I'm allergic to Avelox--the antibiotic. I was on it for an ear infection a month ago, right in the middle of our move. Toward the end of my 10 days on the medication, I broke out in uncomfortable hives all over my body. But I attributed it to stress. I mean, there was tons of stress at the time--it made sense.

So yesterday I went back to the doctor because I was miserable with congestion and sinus pain. I'd tried to ignore it, thought it was allergies, but the pain won out. He asked me, as he always does, what works best. I told him what he gave me last time. So he wrote me a prescription for Avelox and sent it over to the pharmacy to be filled.

I had some running around to do, so I didn't pick up my prescription until lunchtime, and didn't take it until after I took my youngest to school. My hubby woke up and rejoined the world of the living, and I sat down to finish reading a book for a blog review.

The first thing I noticed was that I started getting hot. I asked Bryan to check my skin and see if I felt warm. He told me I did, and that my neck looked red. I went back to my reading. After a while, my discomfort increased so I took some ibuprofin and hoped it would take down my fever. Except I noticed that the creases of my arms were red. And my wrists. And my lips felt funny.

So I got up and took a look at myself in the mirror. Not only was my neck red, but the red stripe went all the way up my face to my forehead, and my lips were swollen. I'd also started to itch. Bryan took a look at me and exclaimed about the redness that was now obviously everywhere.

I called the doctor's office to report that I seemed to be allergic to the antibiotic. I remembered the previous rash that I had attributed to stress and told them about it. The receptionist said she'd let the doctor know, and that she'd call me back. When she called back, we'd already decided I should go in and were halfway there.

The saddest thing was that I had to wake up the baby I was tending from her nap. It took her a solid hour to wake up and start jabbering again.

I took some Benadryl before we hurried out the door, so it had started to work before we got there. By the time I walked into the doctor's office, I looked like a puffy lobster. Redness everywhere. And boy had it started to itch.

The doctor ordered a half dose of epinephrine, which was probably for the best. My heart started to race and pound; my hands started to shake. My teeth started chattering. We sat there for nearly a half hour so they could monitor me, check my pulse rate--basically make sure I wasn't going to have some horrible reaction. The redness started to fade. My heart rate slowed down to passable, and I started to feel the tiredness that always comes when I take Benadryl.

Crisis averted.

Bryan took me home and then went to do my afternoon running around--dropping kids off, picking kids up. I stayed home, got a little cold, and put a blanket over my legs. I kept my feet uncovered--the doctor had warned me not to get too hot or too cold, or I could aggravate the rash and make it come back. He's a smart guy.

By the time Bryan got back with our kids, my feet and lower legs were striped with red. We applied cool towels, until the rash heated them up--then we cooled them again and reapplied. The redness started to fade, so Bryan stopped worrying so much. I scared him. I kinda scared myself.

I drove myself to the pharmacy that night to pick up my new prescription. Ceflex. I've taken it before, but still. I kinda held my breath when I took my first dose this morning.

I did convince him to go to work that night. He called me at 2am to make sure I was taking my next dose of Benadryl. Today, I still kinda feel like I was run over by a truck, but at least I haven't broken out in any rashes. Hopefully, by the time Friday rolls around and I go off to Provo for the Storymakers conference, I'll be able to keep up.

After a near 2 week hiatus...

I'm back. I hope.

On my AUTHOR BLOG, I'm participating in an A-Z Blog Challenge for the month of April. Coming up with a creative, letter related blog post for every day of the month aside from Sundays leaves me drained.

But I had to share something my kid said today. And I quote, How can I possibly count all my blessings? That's impossible!

Okay, maybe paraphrase. But the point is the same. Cute kid.