five months (nearly)

Dear April:

You are nearly finished and I have failed to accomplish many things I believed would be completed during your rainy days.  You went by the most quickly of all the months 2010 has brought so far.  You have made my baby one month older. 

But your days brought baby giggles, little boys on a swing set, much chocolate consumption, and the end of a very busy audit season for my guy Richard. 

Thank you April, see ya next year.

Jo

(Don't worry, I was nearby and I would never let her sleep like this for longer than the time it took me to discover she had fallen asleep and take this photo.)

this is why I never to go the mall

Since my big event is only two days away I ventured to the mall.  My grand hopes were the perfect dress, for less than $50.00.  But I would settle for some bling to wear with my back-up dress.

Cameron was at preschool so I just had Eli and Miriam.  I do not have a double stroller, and I will never take these two children to the mall again without one.  Have I mentioned that Eli is our tortoise child?  Our last trip to the mall was to see Santa, and it didn't help Eli's pace that he was turning every corner asking if this is where Santa lived, and where was he?

First stop: Dress Barn.  Waste of time.  But an entire store of dresses statistically seemed like my best option.  The two kind ladies old enough to be my grand-mother were so disappointed to see me walk out without so much as trying on a skirt-suit.

So I went for the other extreme: Forever 21.  The youngish girl assisting me showed me a few black dresses. 

"I'm looking for something a little bit longer..."

From behind the counter another 21 year old informed me that none of the black dresses in that store went below the knee.  I was starting to feel very uncomfortable.

Sales people make me very uncomfortable.  I am the type of person who would look at, try on, and even buy something when compelled to do so by a salesperson.  You know how they flatter you, pressure you, guilt you.  I just can't handle it.  And when you go to the mall at 10:00 in the morning you get 100% of the attention of the employees.   In fact the only other people in the mall are the mall-walkers, with their pleasant smiles and bright white shoes. 

With no success, except the "bling" I bought from Claire's I headed to the nearest department store to use the elevator.  I needed to leave the mall in approximately two minutes to be on time picking up Cameron from preschool but I thought I'd pass through the "special occasion" area just in case.  I had avoided the mall anchor stores because I was sure I wouldn't find a dress for the money I was willing to spend. But because I wasn't planning to, nor did I have the time to, I did.  I tried it on in a hurry, paid for the dress and frantically carried Eli back to the car, while pushing the stroller. 

I was thrilled.  As soon as I got home I tried it on again and realized two things.  Either I should have started dieting three months ago to fit into this dress, or I was going to need to return to the mall (with all three children this time) to exchange it. 

Sigh.

be our joys three parts pain

(June 2005)

Five years ago when my oldest child was just a newborn I had an ultrasound that found "suspicious" spots on my liver and kidneys.  The radiologists recommended further diagnostic imaging to investigate.  A CT scan was scheduled but not for a few days.  For a few days I was sure I was dying.  All joking aside, I was very worried and so were family members who were aware of the problem.

The results of the CT scan showed small cysts on my kidneys and livers.  They were asymptomatic and not causing any problems with liver or kidney function but my doctor diagnosed me with polycystic liver and kidney disease.  He suggested I have yearly CT scans to moniter the cysts.

Well other health problems came and went, two more pregnancies and two more babies.  Five years went by and I all but forgot about my yearly CT scan.  A few weeks ago while doing some spring cleaning I came across my medical chart from my doctor's office in Pocatello.  My doctor had given it to me when we moved to give to my next doctor for the sake of the detailed health history it contained.

I made an appointment with my current physician and she read over the radiologists report from my original CT scan five years ago.  It described small cysts on my liver and kidneys, etc.  My doctor suggested blood work and scheduled a CT scan for me to check the status of the cysts. 

I wasn't worried about the CT scan.  I didn't expect any bad news.  But I certainly didn't expect to hear what the nurse said when she called after my doctor read over the radiologists new findings.

"You don't have any cysts on your liver or kidneys."
"I don't have any?"
"Nope. Looks good." 

I am not here to try and offer a scientific explanation for why the cysts that once existed no longer exist.  I am here to testify that all things are in the hands of the Lord.  That is why I am eternally grateful for faith.

Sometimes we don't understand why bad things happen.  It is the universal question when someone is asked to endure a trial. 

Why?

But just as asking this question in times of difficulty rarely brings any answers or peace, I believe the same is true in times of blessing. 

Why this trial? Why this blessing?  Because our Father in Heaven loves us.  He has a divine plan for each of us that involves rough roads and smooth ones.  But we can be grateful for Him and His love because all these things are ultimately only for our good.

I know it is easy for me to write this when I am experiencing the ease of a smooth road.  But know this, that I believe these things when the road is rough as well.  And no one is exempt from rough roads.  Five years ago this same faith carried me through three very worrisome days.

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith "A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!''

Then, welcome each rebuff
That turns earth's smoothness rough,
Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go!
Be our joys three-parts pain!
Strive, and hold cheap the strain;
Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
 
Not once beat "Praise be Thine!
I see the whole design,
I, who saw power, see now love perfect too:
Perfect I call Thy plan:
Thanks that I was a man!
Maker, remake, complete,—I trust what Thou shalt do!"
- small part taken from Rabbi Ben Ezra by Robert Browning

wasted time

Time. There is only so much of it. There is only so much of it in life. And there is only so much of it before the next “deadline” life demands. I find that at the end of the day I often have regrets about my time management. Some nights I don’t, and on these nights I fall asleep at peace with the days events and accomplishments. Then there are other nights, where I lay in bed disgusted with myself, greatly wishing I could have the day back to do differently.


The way I see it, there are two ways I regret my use of time.

One way is when I spend it doing something I expect will turn out well, but due to circumstances beyond my control it doesn’t. These time wasters are easier to let go of because I didn’t know it would be a waste of time going in to it. At the end of the day I might say to myself “I wish we hadn’t gone to the library today. Our class was cancelled and the boys were so naughty while we looked for books.” Oh well. What is done is done. I had no way of knowing it would turn out badly, so the regret is only fleeting.

But the other regrets are a little harder to cope with because they are longer lasting. Dealing with my own foolish choices is what really sours my soul. When I choose to spend my time doing something that, from the beginning, I know is useless and unproductive I feel a more frustrated regret. Those are the hours I desperately long for. Because I did know better. And I my desire to relive them is more deep because of my shame for how I idled them away.

Oh time.

I wish I felt a bit more like the Rolling Stones. I wish time was on my side. Yes I do.

another furniture re-do

This dresser made its way through the members of my family growing up.  The picture above doesn't do justice to the yellow-ish hue it had after years of use and fading.   This was actually my easiest furniture make-over so far.  And as usual I have sworn off anymore sanding and painting for a LONG time.  But we'll see how long that lasts. 

and so, between them both they licked the platter clean

Cameron has great intentions. Eli has great follow-through.

On Saturday I let them use the shop vac and a toothbrush to clean out the part of the sliding door that had filled with dirt and dead flies. 

We call them the tortoise and the hare, because Cameron starts out with zeal but tires quickly of any given task.  Eli is slow and steady until the job is done. 

It is these blatant differences in personalities that make life interesting around here. 

Miriam, well she is a bit lazy.  The biggest effort she puts forth is getting that thumb in her mouth.

Speaking of differences...

Cameron loves fruit.  There is not a fruit he will not eat.  Really, we haven't discovered one. 

Eli loves dairy, especially cheese.  There some cheeses out there that many adults don't like but Eli loves all cheese. 

The other night for dinner I gave the boys a snack I used to eat when I was a kid.  Cottage cheese with pineapple on top.  Eli devoured the cottage cheese leaving the pineapple in the bottom of his bowl.  Cameron carefully extracted all the pineapple from his dish leaving behind the curdled white stuff. 

Then they traded bowls. 

life is a highway

The last couple years Richard and I lived in Pocatello I was working at a dental office in Idaho Falls. It was about a 50 minute commute, door to door.  I did that three or four days a week.  There were times I hated it but now looking back I miss that quiet time to myself.  In particular I miss the drive home in the spring or fall.  I would take the back roads of Idaho Falls to get to the freeway.  I would roll my window down and turn up the music. 

Everyone should do this.  It is good for the soul. 

One of the advantages of living in Kuna is that you have to drive 55mph on "country" roads to get into Meridian or Boise.

55mph is the perfect speed for rolling down the windows.  It gives a sufficient airflow to really feel a breeze but it isn't too noisy. 

The last few Saturdays I have left the children with Richard and gone to run errands.  These days some of my most liberating moments are driving away from my house alone.  I am responsible for myself only.

Add to that liberating feeling, the beautiful 70 degree weather we had on Saturday.  

Windows down.  Hair blowing.  Good music.  Singing at the top of my lungs.

It was exhilarating and I highly recommend it.

Even if you drive a mini-van and you are jamming out to Neil Diamond and Michael Buble.

cyber-chondriac

I'm one of those people who types their symptoms into the Google search box and then starts to have irrational fears about being sick with all the dreadful diseases that come up.  I am convinced the internet should be the last source to consult when your body is not well. 

But this time, it turns out, I did have what the internet diagnosed based on my symptoms.  It's pleurisy.  An inflammation in my right lung.  Basically it hurts to breathe. So I just don't.

Ha.

I've had pleurisy before. This time around the pain doesn't seem quite as intense, but I am attributing that to the fact that I have been through childbirth three times and my perspective on pain has been forever altered.  So I tolerate it better.  But a sneeze, yawn, sigh, laugh can all cause exquisite pain.  Blowing my nose? Not an option. 

This is also a problem because one of my coping mechanisms for those difficult moments of motherhood throughout my day is to take a deep breath. 

I was feeling just a little bit sorry for myself when I thought of a woman I know.  She is terminally ill, but she is kind, unselfish and a joy to be around.  Why is it that when my body isn't well, I am prone to self-pity and laziness?

I guess I will just keep getting pleurisy until I learn what I am supposed to learn here. 

**I am feeling much better as the week progresses and therefore do not need any comments that would validate my self-pity,  but I appreciate your sympathy.

extravagant [and rare] purchases

I think I barely missed the generation of college students for whom a personal laptop is standard.  This was disappointing to me. 

I really wanted one.  I wanted to save a few trees by simply placing the laptop on my counter with the recipe window up, rather than printing it off.  I did try the running back and forth from dinner-prep to computer room but that was terribly inefficient.

I wanted one to take to bed with me on those lonely nights when Richard was out of town.  So I could read blogs until my eyelids grew heavy and then I could just close it up and roll over.  Thank goodness there aren't any more lonely nights because that sounds like a terrible waste of time. 

I wanted one for movie watching.  I wanted one because there is just a totally tech-y feeling about having a computer on your lap.  And I just love the click-click of the laptop keyboard.  (Is it even called that?)

Although I don't believe much in life is actually free (this laptop I currently type to you with is no exception), we didn't really have to pay for it with money.  We paid for it with business flights and lonely hotel stays.  Richard cashed in some company credit card points, and voila!  It was a surprise to me, and Richard deserves props for speaking my love language.

Because surprises are not part of his love language. 

My dad taught me many things.  He taught me the importance of honesty.  He taught me that happiness comes from kindness.  He also taught me that you never make a meaningful purchase without first consulting Consumer Reports. 

I think Consumer Reports is part of Richard's love language. 

So we did our research, made our purchase and I love sitting on my couch to blog.  Much more comfy than that computer chair. 

I am bragging a little bit here, but I also get to buy a new vacuum.  A new vacuum is the kind of thing a happy little homemaker like myself gets really excited about.   Unfortunately there aren't any more employee perks to cover the cost of those phenomenal KIRBY vacuum systems.  The term "vacuum" alone doesn't do justice to an appliance that runs for quadruple digits. 

Nevertheless with the help of CR I hope to find a vacuum to meet my hearts desire. 

Then, with my new laptop and my new vacuum I could not ask for more.

getaway

I have made an exception to my no-advertising rule.  Because it is family.

Richard's cousin Wendy hosts scrapbook retreats at a cabin in Donnelly, Idaho one weekend a month.

Having been there and enjoyed the delicious food, pleasant company, comfortable lodging and sunny back patio myself I can personally recommend it.

See the button on the side or West Mountain Retreat.

Corrected

I was informed by a Ninja Turtle expert that Shredder is the evil (human) villian and the name of the life-sized rat is Master Splinter.  I stand corrected.

While we are on the subject of cartoons there are a couple gripes I need to get off my chest.

1.  Why can't Dora's cartoonists draw her a shirt that fits?

2.  Curious George wreaks havoc where ever he goes, and never experiences any consequences.  The man with the yellow hat always warns him, he frequently disobeys and in the end he gets rewarded with a puppy or praise or something.  Totally unrealistic.

But then again, when were cartoons ever going for realistic?

Black Tie

Richard serves as the treasurer on the board of a local charity. They hold a fundraising gala every other year. Two years ago we attended as behind-the-scenes workers. We set-up, provided general assistance, and then ran the credit cards of high-rollers as they made donations or paid for the packages they won in the silent auction.

I felt like a little girl, admiring all the women in their beautiful gowns. I asked Richard if someday we would be able to attend as guests. He laughed a little and told me “Maybe.”

Well now he is on the board and he informed me a few days ago that we had two seats at a table at the event. We are going to be guests. I felt giddy and excited about dressing up and busting out these.

Then the invitation arrived. “Black Tie Event.” I realized this is way out of my league. I don’t feel old enough to attend something like this, and what is worse is that I know I don’t LOOK old enough.

Now I have a pit in my stomach and I worry that I will spend the entire evening feeling self-conscious and terribly out of place.

Not to mention I don’t drink alcohol, which I believe might be the only thing that could help me feel at ease.

And what am I going to wear?

Oh that girl

For a couple months Miriam was being an all-star sleeper.  She would sleep from 8-12 hours uninterrupted. 

The last few nights have been a different story.  Multiple times during the dark hours I find myself in her room frustrated, discouraged and even angry.

But ultimately it doesn't matter if she wakes me three times, six times, or a dozen times.

In the morning when I go to her room to retrieve her from her crib she grins at me.

And all is forgiven.

Oh the power of that morning smile. 

the kids

We finally had a nice enough day that the boys could spend some quality time with their swing set. They love it. Eli goes down the slide over and over. Cameron pretends he is riding a horse on the see-saw swing.

While he was riding his horse Cameron and I had the following conversation:

Cameron: I am the master soldier from Spirit. His name is Shredder.

Jo: Are you sure that is his name?

 (Seemed to me he was confusing a life-sized rat with an army lieutentant.)

Cameron: Yeah, I saw it on Facebook. Deedee showed me at his house.

Hmm.

 

Miriam had a weigh-in at the doc yesterday.  At a hefty 10.5 pounds that puts her in the 1.83 percentile.  To put that in perspective my friend Carly and I took a picture of her with Leo, who was born one week after Miriam.  We had a good laugh at their expense.  We are awesome mom's like that.

I just feel like writing

I have become quite fond of one of my evening routines.  It's a routine familiar to all mothers.  It is the task at the end of the day that entails walking around the house replacing all items back in their proper location.  I use this time to wind down after all the kids are in bed.  Sometimes I do it quickly, anxious to spend my time on other things, but other times I stick headphones in my ears and listen to podcasts or music on my iPod whilst I meander around at a more mellow pace. 

More children means more mess and the routine continually gets more complicated.  Sippy in the sink, burp cloth in the laundry, books on the shelf, shoes in the closet, etc.  Inevitably I come across some random household item in some random place and I try to envision who was playing with it and why.  But since the imaginations of my children far out reach the scope of my own imagination it is usually futile.  One time Cameron and Eli were using socks as "orcas".  Where they learned about orcas I can't be sure.  In any case, finding these obscure "toys" serves as a reminder to me to be more involved in the daily adventures of my little boys. 

Last night Richard was at a church meeting and the kids were all tucked in so I opted for the slow pace, with music.  I have a real "pump-me-up" type playlist I use when the house is especially messy and I am searching deep for energy.  I was just finishing up and turning off lights when I decided to feed Miriam before I tucked myself in.  She had gone to bed unusually early so it had been awhile since she last ate, and so sometimes I do what I've heard called a "dream feed".  I leave the lights off and try to feed her without actually waking her up.

For some reason I can not explain, Debussy's Clair de Lune was oddly included in my housecleaning playlist.  As I sat in the rocking chair of Mira's room, feeding my sweet baby in the stillness and darkness of the house, it began.  At first I was perplexed by the piano's subtle notes, shockingly out of the "pump-it-up" context, but then my mind embraced it's serene melody. 

Then for the next five minutes and thirteen seconds I experienced the most peaceful moment I have experienced in a really long time.  I can not explain the exquisiteness of those few minutes.  It was the kind of event that I probably could not dupilicate if I tried.  I will just have to tuck it away in my memory and think of it each time I hear that song. 

It was certainly a testament to me of the power of music. 

So I am off to iTunes to download Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring, another favorite of mine, that along with Clair De Lune are meaningful to me because not only are they beautiful, but I have fond memories of my sister playing them on the piano in the home of my childhood.

more sports talk

What a game.

I went into last night's match-up with my hopes in favor of Duke, for two reasons.  The first reason being that I had chosen Duke to win it all when filling out my ESPN Challenge bracket.  My family had a friendly little competition going and if Duke won, I won.  I chose Duke on behalf of my younger brother (a loyal fan) who returns in a few months from his mission in Greece.  The men in my life (husband, father, brother) tell me that an upset always trumps the bracket, but I hadn't internalized this yet and therefore I was rooting on behalf of DUKE.

The second reason I was cheering for the blue devils was for the sake of a competitive dynamic at our house.  Richard, and therefore the boys, were all rooting for Butler. 

But it didn't take long for Gordon Hayward to steal my heart with his academic achievements, his spot-on free throws and his twin sister.  That twin sister whose heart, in probably only the way a twin's can, seemed to be down there on the court with her brother. 

My heart broke when the basketball bounced off the rim, not once but twice for Gordy- as we affectionately called him- in those final seconds.  Game over.  Hopes dashed. 

So I won my family's bracket challenge, but what gives? Now I understand the rule of the upset.  I'm thrilled  for Duke, and wish Elder Hall could have seen it.  But I am thrilled for Butler too, making it as far as they did, defying all of our expectations. 

What a game. 

four months

Someone pointed out that Miriam wasn't getting much face-time on the blog.  As usual, I am happy to oblige. Especially since this weekend marked four months.

Looking a little cross-eyed.

I would blame this on the fact that she is the third child, and sometimes is forgotten  briefly neglected unattended, but I seem to recall both Cameron and Eli falling asleep in equally uncomfortable circumstances.

As if to remind us that we can not stop her from growing up, she rolled over yesterday. 

April Fool's day on FB

A friend of mine who is a Lutheran minister posted on her Facebook status that she was getting baptized into the LDS church on Sunday.  It was, of course, a Fool's day joke but at 9:00 in the morning she had shocked many of her friends.  I was fooled too, for moment. 

Then when I reazlied what day it was I wanted in on the action.

So I told my FB network that Richard's job was taking us on an international rotation to New Zealand.  I thought my plan was genius.  All my friends would weep and profess their heartbreak over my news.  My "wall" would be littered with sorrowful good-byes.

I'm pathetic.  I know.

My plan backfired.  People were excited for me.  Can you believe that?

Around 10:30 a couple of my friends caught on and called me out. 

So I deleted their comments, not wanting the game to end. Still holding out for someone to say they would miss me.

By noon my gig was up.  People were realizing what day it was and I was exposed. 

Inevitably I started to feel guilty.  Now I had disappointed all these people who thought I was actually going to do something exciting in my life.

April Fool's day is not conducive to personalities like mine. 

From now on I will stick to celebrating my oldest child's birthday on the first of April. 

**Speaking of which, the party was a huge success.  Thanks for all the tips.

and that makes five

Happy Birthday Cameron!

You are a sweet boy. You are a conversationalist. You are engaging. You are a little bit bossy but you can be a great helper. You are sensitive. You have a great memory. You are great at coloring in the lines. You are social.

You love attention.

Sometimes your little heart is so full of love and excitement it seems to shoot out your eyes and smile like sunbeams.

When I asked you what you wanted for dinner on your birthday you said “exparagus” and chicken. It reminded me of your birthday when you turned three and I tried to make you chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. You didn’t want them, you just wanted your regular oatmeal.

You are a creature of habit, just like your dad. You love routines because you always want to be ready for what’s next.

We love you buddy!