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The Pink Kitty Is The Important Thing.

30 Mar

I made this doll in December and gave her to Banana Cream Pie for her 5th birthday.  

Banana Cream Pie burst into tears, threw the dolly on the floor and screamed at me that she did not want this for her birthday.  

None of my other children have ever acted like that.  

So I put the dolly away, thinking maybe I’d give her to someone who’d love her, a niece or a friend’s daughter.  But not ready to part with her yet.  

Banana Cream Pie found dolly the other day and said, “When are you going to make her a pink kitty? You said you would.”  Did I?   

She pestered me all Sunday afternoon until I sat down with some felt and made a pink kitty.  Now  dolly is acceptable, I guess.  

I’m pretty sure a pink kitty by itself would have gotten as good or better reviews. I’m still asking myself if it’s my fault that I have an ungracious child. Nature? Nurture?  Who knows.  

I actually have pieces for 4 more dolls cut out, but not the heart to make them up yet.  You can find the pattern free over at Make it and Love It, but I can’t guarantee you child will love it.  I sure think it’s a cute pattern.  The only alteration I made from the instructions was to make the doll hair out of flannel instead of felt for durability.  


I can’t Think of a Better Way

16 Jan

Yesterday as I pushed my double stroller with the 5-month old scooter pies up the sidewalk to the YMCA, flanked on either side by Baby Bean and Banana Cream Pie (who are 2 and 4, but look the same size.  People have started asking me if they are twins, too)

An older Y patron said to me something I’ve heard eleventy-billion times since I got brave enough to start leaving the house with the four baby pies.

“You sure do have your hands full.  You sure are busy.”

Usually I just nod and smile, or maybe add a “yep,” before continuing to press forward to my goal.  (Little tip:  moms of twins are generally running late to whatever it is they wanted to be to.  If they are also chasing a toddler, they don’t usually have time to stop and answer your well-meant questions.  They’ve answered these same questions so many times for so many strangers, the time investment isn’t worth it any more–especially if the toddler might run into the street/parking lot at any moment. ) 

But today Baby Bean was holding onto the stroller handle to help me. And suddenly I knew what the perfect response to this comment was.  So I looked that old guy right in the eye-ball and said,

“I do have my hands full, and I can’t think of a better way to spend my time.”

And I meant it. 

He said, “You’re right, and it’s a good thing you are young enough to do it.”

I didn’t tell him that I’m almost 40.  That would have baked his brain. I don’t look my age (woohoo). Most people still think I’m in my twenties. I know, 40 isn’t as old as I thought it was back when I was 17.  But it isn’t 28, and it isn’t even 35.  Most people don’t expect a mom of 4 kids 4 years old and younger to be over 32ish.  Heck, I didn’t expect to have 4 preschoolers at this stage of my life.  I’ve been in the enviable position of having my youngest child be 3 years old and all the other kids in school.  

My house was so clean and orderly that year.

I never planned to have so many kids so close together.  (Until Banana Cream Pie’s birthday in December, I had 4 kids 3-and-under.). I didn’t do it when I was a young mom.

But God had a plan for me different than my plan.  

It’s been scary. It’s been overwhelming.  And I don’t deny that sometimes I feel a little spark of something like envy when my friends talk about all the projects they get done while their one remaining child at home takes his nap.  

But it’s also been miraculous, joyful, amazing, and incredible.  I’ve learned a lot.

Also, apparently I’ve become patient.  That’s the number 2 most frequent comment I get from friends and strangers.  

“Wow, you are so patient.”

“I could not be as patient as you.”

“You have so much more patience than I do, that’s why you have 9 kids.  I didn’t have that much patience.  I stopped after 2 (or 4) kids.”

Here’s the thing: what they are calling “patience” is just me having a deeper understanding than I used to have of what is important and what is less important. 

And when I say deeper, I mean DEEEEEEEPER.

Ocean deep.

Dark side of the moon and back again deep.

So that I can look at a puddle of milk and Cheerios on the floor and say, “meh. Oh well. Let’s clean it up.” 

I’m not saying I always keep my cool.  There are still days when I close my eyes and turn my face to the sky and silently ask, “Why is this so hard?”  There are days I grouch at my kids.

But I quickly realize how truly blessed I am. 

In her book, The Hiding Place, Corrie ten Boom beautifully explains how God gives us the strength we need when we need it, and not before.  

When I only had 2 children, I did not have the patience or understanding for 9 children. I did not have it when I had 6 children.  I did not have that until I had 9 children.  

Don’t limit God’s plan for you because you don’t think that you have the patience or the skills or the whatever you lack to do the job. 

The Lord gives us the strength we need when we actually need it and not before.  Sometimes it’s after–long after–we thought we needed it.  But He knows we are capable of so much more than we think we are.


Psalms 32:7 Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance. Selah.

1Nephi 3:7 … I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.

Ether 12:27 And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. 

Yesterday is gone

11 Sep

Yesterday was one of my anxiety days.  One of the days where I wake up with my chest hurting and spend the entire day feeling like I’m being strangled. On anxiety day, every time I breathe in, I feel a wave of dizziness.  It’s a pretty regular occurrence,anxiety day, but that doesn’t keep it from catching me by surprise and kicking my butt when it comes.

I’ve never told anyone about anxiety day, except DH and my sister.  Because it’s me at my worst.  Because I like to focus on the good.  But on anxiety day it is hard to find anything good that does not seem poisoned with fear.

On anxiety day, everything seems wrong and horrible and hopeless.  I know that even if my life was problem free, I’d probably still come up with something to be worried about on anxiety day.  Since I actually do have problems,it can be pretty bad. I tell myself my viewpoint is skewed, but it doesn’t make the strangling pain go away.  I’ve tried singing hymns during the day to cheer myself up.  I do calm down while I’m singing, but as soon as the song is over, anxiety smacks me in the face again, and I feel like I’m fighting a great battle just to not drown.  Sometimes anxiety day lasts for two or three days.

If there was a way that I could just leave until it was over, my family wouldn’t suffer as much.

Because when I’m freaking out, I don’t always speak in the kindest tone to the kiddie pies.

The DH can tell I’m not happy.  He wants me to be happy, so he asks what is wrong.  I say “it’s nothing.”  What I mean is, there is nothing he can do.  The DH can be pretty persistent.  When I’m asked for the 4th time what’s wrong, I forget that I’m suppressing my emotions for the day.  I stop answering, “It’s nothing” and let the DH know his top ten failings and why no woman should be expected to put up with him.  Also I let him know that every little thing he does is irritating to me and why can’t he just go breathe in a different room.  Fairness does not enter in here on anxiety day.

I’ve been learning about quantum mechanics (thank you, youtube) because I’ve always wanted to learn about it, and because I want to learn about it before the movie about Steven Hawking comes out in November.  So far what I’ve learned is that matter moves like a wave, but when we try to measure or observe it, it changes.  I’ve learned that a particle in the universe spins, but it doesn’t know which way it is spinning until we measure it.  When we measure it, it spins the way we set up the equipment to measure the spin.  If we change the equipment, we change the spin.

So our expectations affect the universe and how it behaves.  I’m not saying I understand it very well yet, but it sure lends a lot of credibility to the whole positive affirmations idea.  I know that I’d rather be happy than sad, and I might as well choose to believe in happiness.  Most of the time, I’m pretty good at happy.  But I haven’t managed to do happy on anxiety day.  (although hanging out at a friend’s house can distract me from it for a few hours-that’s as close as I’ve gotten).  It’s like on anxiety day, my brain is broken.  Happy and hopeful aren’t settings that my equipment is capable of on anxiety day.

Maybe one of these days, maybe I’ll manage to be civil and cheerful on anxiety day.  Maybe I’ll figure out how to use physics to fix it.  Maybe anxiety day won’t come back next month.

For now, I’m just glad that yesterday is over and my kiddie pies are so quick to forgive and forget.  I’m glad the DH is pretty resilient and that making up after a fight is really fun.  I’ve go hold of hope again.

If you Make a Mistake, They’ll Catch You

10 Apr

If you make a mistake, they’ll catch you and make you pay. For instance, if you leave out an open jar of honey…




They will also be very angry when you take the honey away.

Going to church Commando style

19 Nov

So yesterday after church we headed up to hang out with the Dear Husband’s family.  It’s been way too long since we got together so we had a sort of combined Thanksgiving dinner/November birthday celebration pot luck.  There are 5 of us born in November- that it is the best month of the year to be born in, goes without saying. 

It was a very random potluck indeed.  We had Chili pork roast, potato casserole, chilequiles, spanish rice, green salad, greek pasta salad, bacon macaroni & cheese, sushi, birthday cake, lemon cupcakes, and pumpkin gooey cake (with real whipped cream.)  It was all good.

My kids had a blast with their cousins.  My favorite was watching my 4 year old playing with her 15 year old cousin. 

The Dear Husband’s youngest brother brought “just a friend”  with him to dinner so that added drama to the day.  You can’t tell me that people bring “just a friend” to family Thanksgiving Dinner.

Speaking of drama, rewind to church. reeeet. (that’s the sound of us rewinding.)  About half way through sacrament meeting this happened:

My friend’s 13 year old daughter leaned back from the pew in front of us and whispered, “Cutie Pie doesn’t have a diaper on.”

I was like, “Duh, she hasn’t worn diapers for awhile.”

Friend, “She’s flashing everyone.”

I look over, and my 4-year-old is laying on her back in the bench, legs in the air, dress over her head, no undies in sight.  

You’ve got to be kidding me.  I personally dressed her and she had panties on when I dressed her.  Sigh.  She and I exit the meeting.  I took her out to the van, thinking I had a spare pair for her, but no luck. So she got to wear a much too small diaper for the rest of church.  I asked her where her panties were and she said,

“I forgot them at home.”

I wanted to be like HOW COULD YOU FORGET THEM, but she is only four and also, no one would have ever known if she had kept her feet down.  I knew the real reason I was bothered was because I was embarrassed.  (Did you ever notice that the word “embarrassed” has the words Bare and a$$ in it?) 

I know people have different opinions on the subject of nude children.

My husband’s parents never allowed their children to be naked because naked children = poverty.

My parents had naked children running around on the farm all the time because naked = the glorious freedom of youth.  All too soon we have to grow up and wear clothing in order to be socially acceptable so why not let the little kids enjoy it while they can.

I guess I still feel that way.  The man of the house doesn’t call me his Ferengi wife for no reason….la la la.

What’s your opinion on going commando/living life clothing optional?

I already know that at least 2 of my sisters think that if we lived in a nudist colony, at least we wouldn’t have to do laundry.

And another of my friends considers undies to be dispensible/disposable in certain situations.

Are Dry Erase Boards Racist?

17 Oct
Pumpkin Pie has been coming home from school complaining of headaches and that her eyes hurt. 
 I asked her if she was having trouble seeing the blackboard and she said, “No.” 
After several more days of headaches, I again asked her if she was having trouble seeing the blackboard. 
She said, “No, I only have trouble seeing the whiteboard and the Smartboard.”
There were plenty of white dry erase boards in my classrooms in highschool and college,  but we still called them blackboards. 

Being a Mom is kind of like being Bipolar

13 Jun

Some days I feel like this:

My children are smart and amazing and I am so blessed.

Some days I feel like this: