tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33862723822728960662024-03-13T11:30:08.555-05:00 All My Monkeys Life with Five Rambunctious MonkeysAll My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.comBlogger312125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-42021675937001686972016-05-13T13:12:00.000-05:002016-05-13T13:12:50.381-05:00Knock knock. Is this thing still on?<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dear abandoned blog o'mine,</div>
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Life with five kids is busy. And loud. And so. much. laundry. Yeah. Uffda.</div>
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We are coming into new stages of parenting. Yowza! First, we have no more babies. Hard for this mama and dada who loooooooove babies. But we'd rather just have one visit, I think. Maybe. Or, could we borrow one and give it back when it gets big? sigh. Yeah, by that time you're suckered in to having an attachment. We just need our grandbaby. (Yes! Grandbaby. :) In Florida. :( But more on that later.)</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Captain Huggyface.</span></b> Lucas is five, potty trained, rides a bike - no training wheels, has three more days in his preschool career, and then it's Kindergarten. Whoa! But so much yay. He very definitely has "baby child" syndrome, and most recently has acquired a friend who challenges his need to always get what he wants (because baby-child is dueling another baby-child. Ha! Actually, now that I think about it, all three of his best buds are the youngest in their family). He is, fast and firm, Mama's boy (not to be confused with a mama's boy). He loves to tell me how much he loves me, constant hugs and kisses, still snuggles and crawls in my bed occasionally, and when his dad asks him if he loves daddy, he just replies, "I love mommy." lol He does love dad, but for now, not as much as mama. #swoon I am often accused of giving him whatever he wants, but that is <u>simply</u> <u>not</u> <u>true</u>. For the record, his dad does that WAAAAAY more than I do. Matching his shirt and his underwear is of great importance. Shirt to pants, not so much. As evidence today, he is wearing a green shirt and purple pants. #pickyourbattles. "Lukie" has made great strides with writing his name, letter and number recognition, and loves to ask how to spell e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. but you must let him copy you letter for letter, one letter at a time, repeat-after-me fashion. Everyone keeps asking me what I will do when he goes to school. My answer: sleep. </div>
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No, I'm not kidding. </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Boots.</span></b> Dillon has, so far, been the one to challenge and grow my parenting skills the most. (ADHD sucks. But there are worse things.) The challenges have made my love for him grow, probably because I've had to work harder at it. I treasure my closeness with him a lot more because of it. He is a very smart kid, and you can tell his mind is always spinning, contemplating, figuring something out. Math is super fun for him, and he actually loves Common Core math, with all it's "strategies." Once, a mom asked if he could help her child, his friend, with the homework, like a tutor. When Dillon got home, he said, "That was fun. Can I do that again?" Seriously. What seven year old says that? Ha! I love that. He is very precise and thoughtful about his work, particularly taking pride in his handwriting and having the best handwriting in the family. He is very calculated and thorough, which makes things like art challenging for him because he needs more time than he gets, but the results are impressive. We recently participated in Youth Day at a local conservation club where he was able to shoot some guns. He rocked the rifle target shooting, hitting almost all bulls-eyes. Trap shooting was more difficult (less time to concentrate), but hey, how many kids can say they shot a 20-gauge shotgun??? He can be quite to goofball, but his personality is quite pleasing (<strike>once he's been medicated</strike>, ahem). Until then, he's quite loud and is highly amused by annoying the heck out of all of us, his sister Kayla in particular. He is excited for warm weather and getting to ride is dirt bike more, "joking" that he rides motorcycle better than mommy. (Hey now! A Harley is a serious piece of machinery.) We have entered our first season of baseball and now have one practice under our belt. So far, he shines at batting, and is pretty good at catching, not afraid of the ball. Really, anything outdoors where he can run and play and be a boy is all he wants to do. With an occasional video game or Lego time thrown in.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Sweet Cheeks.</span></b> Abigail has turned into a real beauty. She is growing in grace and poise, probably thanks to dance. And while she's still all arms and legs clutsy much of the time, our long, lean string bean is proving to be an excellent dancer and gymnast. No longer on the sidelines, her first year of competition dance has gone well and she seems to have enjoyed it. Recently she has expressed an interest in signing up for soccer, but I'm not sure I could handle all the bruises and injuries she would acquire, so we're doing our best to convince her to stick with dance. :D Starting in January, Abby got to invited to Awana's at a local church, and she LOVED it. She is a master at memorizing scripture, and she started asking me to pray with her every night. It's so neat to see her faith budding and blossoming, though her sister doesn't like it when the prayers are about her not being so mean. lol Ah, sisters. We need to work a little on how to pray, but her sweet, sweet heart is in the right place. She is also a rock star at math, and basically anything academic. She is an excellent student, self motivated to succeed and excel. She gets excited about learning and that's so cool. Needless to say, her teachers LOVE her. She loves to shower her mama in compliments, constantly telling me how beautiful I am, regardless of whether I'm in pajamas and wearing makeup or not. She's so good for my ego. ;) Her easygoing personality is a pleasure, her generosity admirable, and her sweet nature enviable. A friend says she will probably be my easiest child. Dear God, I hope so. I need one with this crew. :P</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Koko.</span> Koko Beans. Shimmy shimmy Koko pop.</b> Kayla is my ultra competitive one. An over achiever. She excels at everything she does, but she does it with dedication and hard work. She has mastered flute and recorder this year, going above and well beyond her peers. She is dedicated to practicing without any prodding from us, and it's actually pleasant to listen to her play. The rest of her class, not so much. I think band concerts will be brutal for a few years yet. She's already asking if she can do choir next year... in MIDDLE SCHOOL! Gah! She is very strong minded and opinionated like her dad (okay, <i>and</i> her mom), but she <b>definitely</b> doesn't get the competitive edge from me. This is her third year in competition dance, and each year she jumps up levels, so this year she is the youngest on her team. The challenge is good for her as it pushes her, but she certainly doesn't like to fail or be mediocre. Her sister probably wishes she weren't so competitive with <i>her</i>, but such is the nature of sisters/siblings, I guess. She even takes her desire for excellence into painting her nails. She watches a lot of nail tutorials, and make up tutorials, on YouTube and can do some cool tricks. She applies her makeup (still for play only, much to her chagrine) far better than her mother can, and I've even had her do my makeup a time or too. Too bad it doesn't carry over into room-cleaning skills. :P Kayla has enjoyed her first year of church youth group, and has made a couple good friends with a couple of the girls. There continues to be some girl drama at school but I think it is getting better, or she is getting better at avoiding it and the people who thrive on it. Her choice in friends is becoming more judicious, distancing herself from some, drawing closer to others, which is always comforting to parents. I hope it stays that way in this next phase of growing. Now, I have a feeling we're going to need to be more worried about boys. :P Hopefully her "judiciousness" will carry over to that. #knockonwood</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Curious George.</span></b> Bane has, ahem, <i>endured</i> his first year of middle school, and we are all still alive, praise the Lord. Three more weeks to go, and they will likely be rough, but summer is near. (Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.) This is the child who has jumped, leaped, catapulted into middle-schooler/adolescent-ness, and OH LORD. Things I thought would be issues in three or four years, or <b><i><u>never</u></i></b>, are happening now. More than just longer hair, blond dye jobs, and b.o. It's a different time, a different age in the world, and it all looks so much different from when we were that age. It's challenging to navigate for parents and kids alike, and immensely hard to relate to. Prayers for wisdom appreciated. Bane has the most unique sense of humor, and I think it's a little bit mature for his age, as I don't think some of his peers would get his jokes, but to adults he's <strike>sometimes</strike> funny. While it's scary, it's also amusing to watch that mental growth. I just have to remind him of his audience and appropriateness. He currently is focusing on getting his "new rap career" off the ground.... (*cough cough* pardon me. I was on the floor laughing.) Kids are so funny. He thought I would "flip-out" when he told me about it. Guess what? I'm not worried. He's a privileged white boy in a nice family with no hardship, age twelve at that, and I'll just be encouraging. There's a LOT of years, and phases, ahead of us. #pickyourbattles #thisisnotoneofthem. I love this kid with all my heart. He made me the mom I longed to be, so it's been hard to watch him struggle with depression and flounder in finding his quirky place in the world. He is still the tender-hearted nurturer he always has been, only now he tries to help friends who are cutting or smoking. Oh boy. gulp. I just pray his curiosity is focused elsewhere. With that in mind, this mom signed him up for baseball. He put up <u>quite</u> the fuss, but as it neared, and we bought him stuff, he started to get secretly excited. He still puts on a front that he doesn't want to go, but once there, I think he enjoys it. He is also a natural hitter, and hopefully he will find success and fulfillment, as well as camaraderie and friendship, in the game. May God keep him and guide him. That is my prayer.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>King Kong.</b></span> The hubs continues his many projects. He can now boast of a big, fancy, new garage in which to tear apart, repair and repaint vehicles to his heart's content. Building it was last summer's (and fall's, and some of winter's) project, so hopefully this summer we will see more Harley riding and less hammer pounding. The garage has become the new adult hangout spot for us and our new neighbors, which has been fun. We have enjoyed getting to know them, socializing, and discussing house reno projects with them, all while tipping a can or three of deliciously disgusting Busch Light. (It's cheap.)</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Mrs. Bananas.</b></span> Since the Mr. got his garage, it's MY turn for a new kitchen. I merely made a comment about needing to redo parts of the bathroom as it is now in need of repair <i>and</i> finishing. That led into planning a full-scale remodel of most of our main level. lol. But it's exciting to dream, especially when a kitchen island, a "dining" room, and a new laundry/bathroom combo are in the works. It may take a while before we can start, and certainly before it's finished, but phase one will include <u><b>adding a bathroom</b></u> (in the basement, but still! Hallelujah!). For now, when I'm not driving the kids around to practices, running to town for more bread and laundry soap, and desperately trying to keep my head above water in housekeeping maintenance, I'm Pinterest-ing my heart out, and doing a little knitting. Hopefully I'll swap gardening and motorcycling out for knitting this summer. </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Schweetheart.</span></b> About that grandbaby... Last March, Kong and I were able to steal away for a long weekend to see our <u>newborn granddaughter</u> in Florida!!!! BeccaBoo christened us grandparents with a super cute, oh so precious, Smoosh-ball of love named Charlotte. We enjoyed our time away in Florida, doing a little sightseeing sans kids, getting to see the new mom BE a new mom, (she's AWESOME at it, like she was born for it) and meeting the man she now calls fiance. The hardest part is being so far from them, not getting to see her mature, or Charlotte grow (because, you know how we <i>love</i> babies). The kids often get weepy and sad, and sometimes even angry, asking "are we EVER going to get to see Becca?" It's hard to hear, and hard to answer. Yes, but when? So we are hopeful that we will ALL be able to make a trek there for the wedding, some time next year. Until then, we will have to survive on pictures and <b><i>v.i.d.e.o.s.</i></b> (hint hint, Becca) of our Florida loves. </div>
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So. What have you been up to?</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-13648600528873830692014-06-04T00:24:00.001-05:002014-06-04T00:24:29.652-05:00Teleporting to the Heart<br />
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I recently did something I've never done. It caught me totally off guard, made me a little nervous, and floored me with it's awesomeness. And yes, I googled later. Don't laugh.</div>
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I have great kids. Full of heart and spunk and uniqueness, each one, but also tenderness, compassion and love. I don't care how awesome your kids are, though, they will ALL give their parents a hard time. As a parent, you can only hope you're not completely screwing them up. You don't wish for them to go through hard things, ever, or make the youthful mistakes you made. We all had to forge our own way, though. To get to where we are today. It makes us who we are today.<br />
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As a Christian parent, you also hope that your child chooses to also follow God, to be a believer, to pursue a relationship with the Savior. I can see God active in each of my children's lives and hearts, but some days I worry about one more than another.</div>
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One night at bedtime, as I was partaking in "the ritual" with one child, the only child who requires a tucking-in ritual, also the same child who gives me the most grief and gray hair, he asked me, "Mom, when will I be born-again?"<br />
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<i>Uuuhhhhmmmm... What? gulp. wow. Wasn't expecting that. </i><br />
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<i>and......YAY! </i><br />
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<i>Uh...uh...uh.... Now what do I say??? </i></div>
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So I just told him that it's not like the same as when you are born out of your mom's tummy. It's more something that happens in your heart, when you ask Jesus to come live there.</div>
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How does he get there?</div>
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You say a prayer and ask him to come into your heart.</div>
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You mean, like, does He teleport there?</div>
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Bwahahaha. Um, I think you watch too much Dr. Who, son. But yes, it's kind of like teleporting. It's just a feeling that you get. You believe, you <i>know</i>, that he does, and that's called faith. </div>
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I asked him if he knew what born-again means and we talked about that. He asked how big your heart is and I explained the fist/size thing, but that that's not where Jesus lives, really. He lives in our "feelings" or our mind.</div>
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It was interesting.</div>
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And then he just looked at me.<br />
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The kid who never stops talking was silent.<br />
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*Can you say 'pregnant pause'?*<br />
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<i>Maybe it makes me a crappy Christian, but I have never actually led anyone in that prayer. Oh gosh. Help! I'm not prepared. How do I do this? Will I do it wrong??</i><br />
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Realizing that this was my cue and the time was now, I asked him if he wanted to pray that prayer. He nodded assuredly. And so I led him in prayer.</div>
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Let's just say, I wasn't expecting that. But WOW!</div>
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Kids will certainly surprise you. But so does God. With this child, he thinks a lot about going to heaven, about being with angels and having wings. He thinks about what it's like in heaven, what he'll do there. He makes me realize I have biblical homework to do about end times stuff. :) When we were talking I also said that God makes him special. That how God speaks to him will be special to just him, and what plans He has for his life are special. Because of struggles he has had, I said that even our parts that we may not always like, God created for just a special purpose.</div>
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And that's true. He creates us <b><u>as</u> <u>we</u> <u>are</u></b>, even the parts that we see as negative characteristics, God has purpose in those. This fact, that there is purpose in everything, is something we as parents need to realize, and give to God to help those areas grow to bring glory to Him. We need to call the good things out, speak them into life, which helps those blessings grow and come to pass. Those things that seem insignificant? They aren't. Because God made them. And we have NO IDEA how important they just might be.<br />
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The even cooler part of the story is what happened the next morning.<br />
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He's one that likes to be the first one up or the first one dressed. (Consequently he's also the one who takes thhhheeeeee looooonnnnnggggest to do so.) Well his sister, excited for an activity at school that day, was up and dressed before everyone. He got really upset and started to fall back on old habits, saying "I'm stupid. I'm the stupidest. I hate myself."<br />
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Normally this frustrates, angers and saddens me. That morning, I just looked at him and said, "<i>Kid</i>, <b><u>GOD</u></b> doesn't think that at all. Those are satan's words he's trying to put in your head so <u>don't</u> <u>you</u> <u>believe them</u>."<br />
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He just looked at me and said. "OK." And that was it. It just clicked.<br />
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Blow. Me. Away.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Halleluja!!!</span><br />
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You have no idea how many times I have struggled in hearing those words and getting him to stop saying it. But now he had God in his heart and that was all he needed. Still blows me away to think about it.<br />
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-66159668631950407172014-03-27T10:15:00.001-05:002014-03-27T10:15:52.747-05:00Soup and celery and friends.<br />
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I'm feeling a little under the weather this morning. A nice hot pot of Creamy Chicken Wild Rice Soup sounds heavenly to me on this dreary, cold and rainy day. But I'm out of celery.</div>
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I think I went about 10-15 years not really having any friends. I mean, I had "friends," people I knew, people from church, people from bible studies, the occasional roommate, coworkers, etc, but no real, close, emotionally or in vicinity, friends. That was tough. <i>Really</i> tough. I'm a person who needs people, feeds off people, draws my energy from those around me. Largely extroverted, and definitely a verbal processor, it was challenging to me emotionally and spiritually. I met my husband during that time, which helped, but he, being highly introverted, and a guy, and my spouse, did not fill all the needs I had for true, deep, honest, real and raw friendship. Then I had five children. And I live in a small town away from all my other "community." Talk about isolating.</div>
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Even before I met my husband, I prayed and prayed for friends. I dated "the wrong guy" for two years too many just because I was lonely. I had lost the intimate, and in some cases any, connection with friends from high school and college, and while my year in Spain helped form new connections and span the bridge, I was still alone. I thought even God had abandoned me. I cried out so. many. times. but felt like my cries were not being heard. Why was I suffering? Why was I alone? Why had everyone, including God, abandoned me? What was wrong with me? I longed for a partner, but yet had to watch all these younger kids pairing up and getting married, some even starting families. My heart cried out in desperation.</div>
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So husband and five children in a small town where everyone knows everyone except me, I don't know anyone except my neighbor who was busy with her own large herd of children, another mom "phone friend," and thru my awesome church, I had found enough community and connection that it staved off the extreme loneliness and desperation. I made a few connections, however superficial, with other preschool moms, so that helped too. I still dreamed for that friend who lived "next door", who had kids of similar ages, who I could hang out with in our pajamas for coffee, or do laundry together, watch my kid in a pinch, take walks with, just live life together, share our faith together. While I dreamed of it, I didn't crave it the same way I had. The problem is that we're all so busy. No one, adults with families and jobs and lives, has the time to invest in building that kind of relationship and intimacy. It's hard enough to work on our marriage relationship and family relationships that we often don't have the energy, and so many people build up walls creating this image of a perfect life that they have a hard time being real. But I'm not a beat-around-the-bush person. I will tell you honestly what I think, and honestly what is going on in my life. I just don't have time for all the bull-crap. </div>
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Then, two years ago, something happened.</div>
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I met TWO people. Both completely separately, both completely different relationships. And it is definitely a God-send.</div>
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One friend has boys. And she trained for a 5K with me. We occasionally have drinks at one house or another, laughing til the wee hours of the morning. We talk about faith. We kid-swap. We get real. I can be honest and blunt and I love love love that she's honest and blunt too.</div>
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The other friend has girls. She's also the Girl Scout leader and does and AWESOME job at it. We fill our bored and lonely SAHM hours talking on the phone while doing dishes. We scheme. We do "dance mom" together. We carpool. And kid-swap like crazy. She is creative and spurs me to create. We laugh and joke. We talk about tough stuff.</div>
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Not to devalue the other friendships I have, because those are important too. What they contribute to my life, and I to theirs, is very important and has it's own special place. But the proximity factor here allows for us, my two home-town friends, to share life. To help each other out. Because as I stopped to get cough drops for a child at the gas station, I ran into one friend who lost her phone. So she used my phone to call the other friend (who does daycare for her) about an early drop off. And since that other friend was in town, I called her later and asked her to pick up celery for me, and she then asked if I could watch the other's kid since she was going to be late. So I ran down to her house to alert said friend and get the child, and we all three ended up meeting at my front door. I love this. I love my life. I love my friends. I fell so utterly blessed and I thank God daily for these two awesome women.</div>
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And now I am going to go make some wild rice soup with that celery. With a smile on my face.</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-75768144602506446642014-03-07T21:53:00.002-06:002014-03-07T21:53:39.860-06:00A completely uneventfully great day<div style="text-align: justify;">
We had a good day today.</div>
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That's noteworthy enough. :)</div>
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We have had a rather long string of pretty bad day, busy days, challenging day, nothing accomplished days, which don't make for good days. At least 2 weeks of them. I'm so glad for the change. Not sure if the stars aligned or all our meds are finally working or if God just knew I needed a break. Whatever. Hallelujah!</div>
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After the hubs and I had some things that we "discussed fervently" for 5 1/2 hours yesterday, I woke up to a love/encouragement/apology text. That's a pretty good way to start the day, which I might add I have been doing at about 6:30 lately. What the heck? Is it just the sun getting up earlier or an effect of my happy pills? Today I decided to get up (different from merely waking up at that hour and still laying in bed as long as possible) and make some chocolate banana bread muffins for the kids lunches. Mmm... Also a good way to start the day.</div>
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Then I did some random stuff like order contacts and put away dishes, make lunch and start supper. I had taco salad (whoop whoop for good choices), and start our supper of country style pork ribs, seasoned last night. I have not had any desire to cook or clean lately. Bad days really zap the life out of you, but today I had a little zest for that, and it felt good. Such a better feeling than throwing on hot dogs or chicken nuggets last minute. Again. For the 5th day in a row. And since I knew we were going to be gone after school, I got the ribs in the oven early so when we came home all we had to do was pop them back in for a quick warm up, boil some potatoes, heat some corn, and viola! Delicious, home-cooked meal. For once. </div>
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The little Mr. so graciously helped me wash dishes today (did an ok job washing the dirty ones and a fantastic job washing the clean ones). Having had so much fun, he didn't want to miss out on the opportunity to help me clean the bathroom. Well, jump right in, little fella. Right in to the bathtub, that is. The place he's been avoiding like the plague for the last month. He thought he was washing the tub. Little did he know <b><i><u>he</u></i></b> was getting clean too. Ha!</div>
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After school, despite a slight delay from the child who typically causes delays, we did a Girl Scout cookie booth at the mall where we sold reasonably well. It was kind of miraculous, even, considering I had both little boys with me with not much to do but sit for 2 1/2 hours and they behaved quite well. That deserves it's own hallelujah. Once home, everyone was calm. Tired out? I don't know. But there was no fighting, no noteworthy tantrums to speak of, and the only drama was a little incident with the cat, but since I wasn't completely drained of the will to live, I actually had the energy to give a little love and pamper owies. Hugs and band-aids make it all better. Sometimes moms need to give that just as much as kids need to receive it.</div>
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You know? It was nothing exciting. And I kind of liked that. I thought <i>that</i> was a story worth telling.</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-29228905025551903142014-03-01T15:32:00.002-06:002014-03-01T17:00:40.563-06:00Everything is Awesome!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vc2GHcBJd9Y/UxJfi_9vbuI/AAAAAAAADdA/vy4gds_dcBg/s1600/Uni-Kitty.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vc2GHcBJd9Y/UxJfi_9vbuI/AAAAAAAADdA/vy4gds_dcBg/s1600/Uni-Kitty.png" height="320" width="175" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kaw_DL2P9PM/UxJfiBkts2I/AAAAAAAADc4/sbHVs651yKI/s1600/Uni-Kittyodeath.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kaw_DL2P9PM/UxJfiBkts2I/AAAAAAAADc4/sbHVs651yKI/s1600/Uni-Kittyodeath.png" height="320" width="225" /></a></div>
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As parents, we are faced with many choices. Some easy, some difficult, some obvious, some that should be obvious, some that are a gamble.<br />
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My girls headed off to Disney On Ice with Girl Scouts today. This overbooked mama would have LOVED to accompany them, but sometimes we have to say no, even to good things. Choices. However, I didn't want to leave the boys jipped out of <i>all</i> the fun (sometimes they get the short end of the stick), so I decided to take them to see The Lego Movie.<br />
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In case you are unaware, the theme song for the movie is called "Everything is Awesome!"<br />
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On the way home, Dillon felt that some injustice or great disappointment had occurred him and began to make up his own lyrics to the song.<br />
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Oh, the choices. Laugh or cry moments. I chose laugh. Because crying is lame.<br />
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As Dillon began to sing "Everything is Stupid. Even Mom is Stupid," Lucas retorted with "Everything is fine. Everything is Okay."<br />
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Ha. Gotta love how the universe balances itself out. And yay for my little man sticking up for me.<br />
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<br />All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-10857253740452788362014-02-22T23:01:00.004-06:002014-02-23T23:04:14.728-06:00Selfish Mommy<div style="text-align: justify;">
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I'm having one of those parenting moments where I feel truly selfish. And yet, I feel justified, </div>
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and HORRIBLE.</div>
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I have a child who is challenging. And then half of the time he's <i>really</i> challenging, and about five percent of the time he's <i>oh-my-gosh-I'm-going-to-tear-my-hair-out-I-don't-know-how-to-parent-or-survive-this-Lord-help-me-breathe</i> challenging. Right now is one of <i><b>those</b></i> moments. Ok, that's probably exaggeration. Maybe it's just a "really" challenging one, but in the thick of it, even those plain old challenging ones have a desperate quality to them.</div>
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My selfishness comes in not wanting to give him a hug. (gasp!) Not hug him. As a lesson, that you don't get to say unkind things and then expect that it doesn't effect others. As payback, for saying unkind things, or things you don't mean just to hurt someone (me). And, because who wants to hug someone that just said something mean to you?</div>
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Yes, I am the adult; he is the child. At least technically. But should I "reward" unacceptable behavior with a hug? No. Is a hug a "reward"? uh.... Probably not. Should I offer grace and forgiveness? Yes. Should I love him even when he's "unloveable"? I'm going to step out of my selfish shoes and say, yes, especially then. But those other thoughts are still swirling around in my head. Giving him a hug is not topping the list of things I "want" to do right now.</div>
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And so he's blubbering away. Causing a real commotion, keeping siblings awake, spurring them to beg forgiveness and mercy on his part. I am unmoved. He comes downstairs, following me. I try to talk to him about it. Try to reason, to help him see, to understand, to empathize with others. To apologize and <i>mean it</i>. He doesn't, clearly. He says it again. And then is upset when I, again, state that I won't give him a hug, good night go to bed.</div>
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Yes, it's true. I'm a mean, awful mom not worthy of the title.</div>
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Sometimes this job sucks. It's very pushy-pully with the flesh, and working one's "kinks" out. <i>MY</i> kinks. Ugh.</div>
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I text a friend. <i>Sure </i>she'll back me in my unloving behavior. She doesn't. Whaaaa????</div>
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Damn. I really am being "the worst mom ever."</div>
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sigh.</div>
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sigh again.</div>
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He stands here. Crying. Complaining. That he's cold. That his feet are getting tired. So would I just give him a hug already?</div>
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But you don't like me. Why don't you go get a hug from someone you like?</div>
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Because I want one from you.</div>
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But I don't want to hug you after you say mean things to me. </div>
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We argue like this for a while.</div>
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Finally, I suck it up. And give him the lamest, most half-assed hug <i>ever</i>.</div>
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It is enough for him and he goes to bed. Satisfied.</div>
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Satisfied that he got a hug/love? Satisfied that he won? Satisfied that his nightly routine was completed? What?</div>
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I can't let it go. I feel defeated. frustrated. angry.</div>
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What did I just teach him? Anything? Selfishness? That words hurt? That there are consequences? That we need to think about what we say or do? That if he just pesters mom she'll eventually give in? That I really am mean?</div>
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UGH!</div>
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I think I've just proved to the world how completely imperfect and awful I am. I'm sure you feel much better about your own mothering or humanism. You're welcome. </div>
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Join me tomorrow for another installment of encouragement in the form of "at least I don't suck as much as <i>that</i> mom." (Oh, you know you have those thoughts sometimes. It's ok. Go ahead and admit it. I won't tell. ;) </div>
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<b>Truth:</b> parenting is hard.</div>
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<b>Another truth:</b> it really pushes you as a person and forces you to grow, uncomfortably. Much like marriage. *<i>cough cough</i>*</div>
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<b>Point to consider before becoming a parent:</b> If you like being comfortable, stable, and not pushed, do NOT become a parent.</div>
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<b>Another point to consider:</b> there is no such thing as a supermom, as a perfect parent, as this idyllic mom who does everything well (or at all) all the time. No one can juggle that many balls, or have all the answers, and never have one fall, or make a mistake, or lose your <strike>voice from yelling so much</strike> cool. Seriously. It's a fantasy. A fallacy. NOT REALITY. And no one likes the mom who pretends she <i>is</i> that. Because it's a tough standard by which to compare oneself and no one likes to feel inferior. Personally, I all for transparency. So just lay it all out there for the world to see, scabs, bruises and all. And hopefully no one will call Child Protective Services on you. :D</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-55639163387960687452014-01-28T22:37:00.000-06:002014-01-28T22:37:01.578-06:00Whooooaaaaa!<div style="text-align: justify;">
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WHOA! I just looked at my blog, and boy, my posting habits last year were pathetic. Eleven for the whole year. That's awful.</div>
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I guess it's a indicator of 1. life is busy, 2. sometimes life is hard to blog about, and 3. well... it's a continuation of the life being hard bit but more like, you're worn out from all that busy hard stuff, to talk about all the awesome fun stuff that goes on. You feel like saying "Whoa! Slow down. <b>I need a break</b>." And some wine. Lots and lots of wine.</div>
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Right now, we are knee deep in dance stuff and it's about to get even busier. Both girls are in dance again, plus Koko is in competition dance this year. I should tell you I, just tonight, put faux hair pieces and fake eyelashes on my daughter and it freaked me out a little. WHOA! <i><u>I've</u></i> never even worn fake eyelashes. Girlfriend wears them like a pro. I should not be surprised.</div>
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Hopefully we are back in the swing of going to school and can get back with some kind of steady rhythm. I feel like we've just had one big "vacation" since Christmas. We've had lots of "snow days" (due to extreme cold temps and wind chills mostly - big whoa for the weather), plus last week they had two days off for end of semester. All equaling 6 days in a row at home, stuck in the house because of bad weather. I was MORE than happy to send them off today, even if it was two hours late. Only to dive into a day of errands, which included getting a spur of the moment (and FREE!!!) biofeedback testing, and subsequent supplement and diet regimen. I got home late this evening and realized, whoa! No dairy? No (non-sprouted) grain? FOR A MONTH?? WHOOOOOAAAA! How did I get signed up for <i><b><u>that</u></b></i>?? (I'm seriously considering having some oreo's right now and dealing with that all tomorrow. No?)</div>
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I had a pretty tough summer with the kids. We were not able to plan any vacation getaways so instead I tried to get the kids involved in some activities: tae kwon do, swimming lessons, dance classes, etc. combined with a few trips to a water park. What it did was made for a lot of driving. Fun, but there were some pretty rough moments in the car, as I have at least one kiddo who doesn't do that kind of confinement well. Combine that with some serious parenting challenges (especially from said kid), and this mama ended up on Zoloft. It's a funny thing about depression. No one wants it. But once you are willing to acknowledge it and get some treatment? Boy! So. Much. Better! I wasn't suffering from anything severe, but just like the life was zapped out of me, and the word "overwhelming" surfaced a lot. That and I was VERY irritable. As I described it to my doc, now I "just feel more even." In looking back, I've probably needed some help for a few years. Better late than never, I guess. I think hormones and aging also play a part in it, in addition to stress etc. (I turned FORTY this year! Whoop whoop! Oh, and that's Fabulous Forty, thankyouverymuch.) And my doc isn't one to want meds long term. She says 6 months, I'm thinking a year. We'll see. I am just now feeling like I'm recovering from last summer, and I don't want to wean from medication just to dive into the most challenging part of the year for me. Maybe next January. :D</div>
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Part of our parenting challenges have been in addressing some ADHD. One with the AD and another with the H and AD. My beloved eldest son has long struggled in school, and this year, in fourth grade, the challenges became undeniable as the ever widening gap became stark. It's a tough thing to "want" to put your kid on amphetamines, (because WHOA, first thing I read online was about recreational use of his med) but his response has been positive and clearly it was needed. His teacher has been very good at communicating with us. Thankful for great teachers. Now I just need to deal with the other child's issues, which will be the most time and energy consuming. But hey, it already is. :P </div>
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My little Huggyface is getting so big. He's not a baby anymore. He's a big boy. Trust me. He'll tell you quite adamantly. But it's like, whoa. Slow down, little buddy. Mommy (daddy too) isn't ready for you to grow up so fast. Daddy keeps trying to convince him he doesn't need to speak in full sentences yet, or with such a wide vocabulary. It's not working. Just this evening, after I put the fake lashes on his sister, he said, "Oh, she's so adorable." haha. Really? sigh. Too funny. He's also quite the talker and will tell you some amazing tales. </div>
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He also shared his first joke this morning. Wanna hear it?</div>
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Ready?</div>
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Now remember. He's 3.</div>
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Why was the kitty in the road?</blockquote>
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Chicken butt!!!</blockquote>
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Ahhhhh. I love it. I laughed. Pretty amazing for a 3-year-old to get the concept of a joke, and humor. And he also got the "why did the chicken cross the road" concept in there. Whatever. He is a guaranteed source of amusement.</div>
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And my little Cheeks, who isn't so little anymore, will be SEVEN! in a couple hours. Not sure what the plan is for her birthday. I don't think daddy will be home either (boo work, but blame the weather). A friend party is in the works but that will be a couple weeks off due to scheduling issues. As in, a FULL schedule. </div>
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Boy. Time is flying by. Kids are growing so much. I miss having babies, but I am discovering how to enjoy this older age a little more. They're easy kids to love. Hopefully I'll be blogging all about them more this year. I guess, time will tell.</div>
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<br />All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-81370231932061385732013-11-27T00:40:00.002-06:002013-11-27T00:59:31.126-06:00A Season of Thanksgrumbling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OG_ZIeimK5w/UpWMcmkWvFI/AAAAAAAADcc/SHxXRJMFNuo/s1600/givethankstothelord.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OG_ZIeimK5w/UpWMcmkWvFI/AAAAAAAADcc/SHxXRJMFNuo/s640/givethankstothelord.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>**In searching for this graphic, I found out something very cool about this verse. It's listed word for word in the Bible several times. 1 Chronicles 16:34, 2 Chronicles 20:21, Psalms 106:1, 107:1, 118:1, 118:29, 136:1 and Jeremiah 33:11. That's EIGHT times. Wow!</i></div>
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I'm sure you've all seen the barrage of "thankful" posts on Facebook. The ones where, for the 30 days of November, people post what they're thankful for. This is a great practice, ... that completely bugs the crap out of me. Maybe to me it feels like bragging? That I'm so bah-humbug I don't want to hear about all the good crap in someone else's life? That I'm not very thankful? Or maybe that I think people should do it in private? All year long? I'm not sure exactly what about it bothers me. I've thought about it. It's probably all that stuff. And I'm sure it points out a blemish on my own heart.</div>
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You can probably imagine my delight when reading through my lovely little devotional this month, each day - <i>again</i> - focusing on being thankful. I've been having to put in a MUCH more concerted effort to concentrate and get through these <i>two little</i> paragraphs. But I'm persevering. Sometimes. </div>
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Strangely, *cough cough*, it's a lot easier for me to recognize these things in someone else, the Negative Norman's and Nelly's, than in myself. <i>sigh</i>. I guess the self-improvement continues. :) <i>Haha! Yeah, totally joking. The self-improvement will go on for f.o.r.e.v.e.r over here. (and I'm totally ok with that. I think.)</i></div>
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So when I read this little passage, I instantly thought of someone (or two) I know. After reading it about 12 more times, I think, it "could" be for me to consider and apply, too. <i>ahem</i>.</div>
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A constant focus on adversity defeats (you). (You) walk through days brimming with beauty and brightness seeing only the grayness of (your) thoughts. Neglecting the practice of giving thanks has darkened (your) mind. ~Sarah Young**</h2>
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Let me repeat that: <b>A constant focus on adversity defeats you.</b> Hm. Ok. Yeah. I can see that. In me? Oh.... well. Yeah, I guess. "Your day is brimming with good stuff but you focus only on the bad." Pshhh. I don't feel defeated. Oh, wait. Yeah I do. <i>gulp</i>.</div>
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I was talking on the phone today, <i>grumbling</i>, about how people want to rush into Christmas and almost rush right over Thanksgiving, with the sales, putting up the tree, yadda yadda. Why can't they focus on the good of <b>this</b> season? On being thankful, on being with family, on extending a generous hand or invitation, on eating good food and relaxing?</div>
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Wait. Did "I" just say that? Why can't "they" focus???</div>
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I have <i>a lot</i> to be thankful for. Healthy, happy children, a loving, hardworking husband, a warm home, cars to drive, safety and protection, a cat I like even if he does pee on everyone's shoes (shhhhh. don't tell the hubs.) and money to pay the bills and cover all our needs. I have great parents, brothers I have grown to love as adults in ways I never thought possible as a child, great friends, a community of fellow believer people - friends - who send me cards of encouragement **IN THE <i>MAIL</i>** when I have down days. Lots. to. be. thankful. for. I guess my speech needs to reflect that. My <i>children</i> need to hear my speech reflect that. I.... I need to hear my speech reflect that. And I need my dismal, critical, down in the dumps outlook to take a back seat.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Amen to that! ^^^ </span></b></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">And a big thanks to those friends of mine who "let me" to see not only the speck in their eye, but the log in my own. ;)</span><br />
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**Jesus Calling, November 26, please pardon my "alterations".<br />
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-28759200702990165652013-09-25T21:47:00.002-05:002013-09-25T21:47:31.265-05:00Unexpected outcomes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have had the amazing experience lately of watching my girls. Something's changed.</div>
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Normally you would think of summer being filled with friends and fun. While I did my best to create fun times this summer, it would not be honest to paint any kind of rosy picture of what our summer looked like. I'm not entirely sure why, but that's another post to ponder. (and to ponder later - I'm still recovering from all the madness.)</div>
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We live in a great small town where kids can freely "roam" and play, and I don't really worry about their safety. The roads don't see a ton of traffic, there are no drive-by shootings or dealers on street corners. Everybody knows most everybody (except me, I don't know anyone). You'd think this would be a great recipe for hanging out with friends, but small towns also tend to be part of consolidated school districts and rural living so alas, most of my kids' friends don't actually live in our town. For the girls, they do have friends close by, but various circumstances and schedule conflicts prevented them from playing together very often. This, by default, left my girls <i>forced</i> to play with each other. They had to find companionship right here at home. </div>
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For someone who never had a sister, this sounds like a dream, but things haven't always been smooth between the two of them, mostly due to the odd jealousy of the older one. She didn't like being copied (idolized) or having to share her space (the air she breathed), her interests (anything girly), her tastes (right down to not having the same kind of fruit or sandwich at lunch), the color pink, or even her outgrown clothing. And she most certainly didn't want to have to <i>play</i> with her. Oh, the horror! I suppose this is the bi-product of the two-year age gap. But like it or not, there's a sister and she just had to get over it. We were constantly talking to her about their relationship and her (less than stellar) treatment of her younger sibling. I'm not sure if it ever made any difference.</div>
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Imagine my surprise when I would wake up summer mornings to hear them laughing together, before they were even out of bed. More and more often they would play games or dress-up, make up dances or whatever imaginary fun they were having, and there would be much less bossing around, much more camaraderie and sharing, and much, <i>much</i> more love. It has made my mama-heart swell to see my girls becoming friends. I love love love seeing that they enjoy being together, having their own special secrets, seeing kindness reciprocated, standing up for one another, and the list goes on. You're sisters for life. Isn't it so much better if you're friends, too?</div>
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If this is the one good thing to come out of this summer (ok, there was more than one good thing, but there were plenty of challenges that tipped the scales), then I would say this summer was a success. I realize that there may be ups and downs, as there are in any relationship, but to see the upside FINALLY come - basically for the first time - has been wonderful.</div>
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And in case you were wondering, my girls have deemed September 25th Annual Sisters Day, forevermore. Let the giggling and bad eyeliner sharing begin.</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-52375355753074908062013-07-30T20:07:00.000-05:002013-08-27T23:48:04.148-05:00Conspiring<br>
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To say that parenting has been challenging this summer would be an understatement <strike>of the century</strike>. In my experience with kids, there's that summer "initiation" process of new rules, new boundaries, who can do what that they couldn't do last summer, extra freedom, and always ALWAYS pushing of the envelope. Yeah, that just hasn't ever ended this summer. Add to that some other lovely behaviors (some of which could be traced back to mine - dontcha just looooove it when your kids mirror you??? It's fan-freaking-tabulous), negative attention getters, terrible two's tantrums (again with the mirror here), and problems of epic proportions with neighborhood children... uffda. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.</div>
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I've been trying to keep it fun with activities like dance classes, swimming lessons, tae kwondo, picnics, parks, ets. But with all the driving (and bickering from the backseat), I need a break. It'll have to wait til September 5th when school starts. </div>
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Long story short, I get to the end of the day, (or sometimes the middle of the day, or, other days I make it til mid morning) and just don't think I will make it, that I'm not cut out to be a parent, that I'm screwing my kids up more than helping them grow. And sadly, I often times get to the point that I really even have a hard time enjoying them. I work at it, because that makes me feel bad, but a lot of times I'd just rather flee. I don't want hugs, or bedtime stories, I'd rather they pee out the window than to come downstairs so I have to see/hear/deal with them one more second or 90. </div>
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Tonight was one such night. The whining, complaining, pestering, hitting, etc had caused a general overload of my senses and my parenting abilities. Actually, these happen often.</div>
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What I usually do is eat, think about intoxicating myself - though mostly I think that just thinking about drinking is enough of a stress reliever that I don't actually have to do it and then deal with the morning after bit - and vedge out on FB. It's a FB and chocolate night tonight.</div>
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I'm sure I could be so much more productive during this time to make my life easier for the rest of the time, but that's some wishful thinking at this point. I'm decompressing. And tonight, FB conspired to make me cry. Dangnabit! (Crying, btw, is a great decompressor.) But... in such a good way.</div>
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I watched <a href="http://www.teamhoyt.com/" target="_blank">this video</a> (or actually, one that was set to "My Redeemer Lives" but I can't find that one and MercyMe gets the job done too). Then <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flRvsO8m_KI" target="_blank">this one</a>. So as I was sobbing away, and continuing thru my FB feed, a friend posted <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=D4JJnAkd77g" target="_blank">this one</a> of her son. </div>
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So from these videos and songs, this is what I took away:</div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;">"<i>I know my Redeemer lives. The very same god who spins things in orbit, runs to the weary, the worn and the weak. And the same gentle hands that hold me when I'm broken, they conquered death to bring me victory. And I know, my redeemer lives</i>." - Nicole C. Mullins</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">"<i>I can only imagine what it will be like, when I walk, By your side, I can only imagine, What my eyes will see, when your face, is before me. I can only imagine. Surrounded by your glory, what will my heart feel, will I dance for you Jesus, or in awe of you be still, will I stand in your presence, or to my knees will I fall, Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all</i>?" -MercyMe</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">A video of a man who loved his son so much, who sacrificed, and worked, and I'm guessing he never complained or grumbled about it but instead felt honored to be able to do so. Something I certainly can't boast of.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The shining, exhilarated face of a man crippled and disfigured with cerebral palsy who was ALIVE, happily so, on a race he couldn't run/swim/bike himself but who lives with the motto "I CAN." His video ended with the scripture, "<i>I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me</i>." Philippians 4:13</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">And as the tears are streaming down my face, having been reminded that HE strengthens me, and that I CAN be a good parent, through Him, I watched the last video of another sweet, special needs boy (I think he's about 10 yrs old?), who himself was moved to tears by the song, the sentiment, the haunting emotion of the song "Halleluja." "<i>And even though, it all went wrong, I'll stand before the Lord of Song with nothing on my tongue but Halleluja....</i>" - Leonard Cohen.</li>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Halleluja, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.</span></div>
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Thank GOD that He does. Because otherwise where would I be? Thank God that He and FB conspired against me, made me cry, made me take a deep breathe and release a whole lotta pent up anger and frustration, spoke to me that He has my back, and my front, and up, down and side, humbled me, and gave me the ability to say, I'll try again tomorrow. I'll love them a little more tomorrow.<br>
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And may I just say, parents of special needs kids have gifts I don't have. More than just a special kid, but a special capacity to love that I'm not sure I'm capable of. It blesses and humbles me to know such people. </div>
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God Bless.</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-86179370072896349232013-07-03T13:09:00.000-05:002013-07-03T13:10:11.185-05:00Here's your sign<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We live in a nice, quiet, little town in rural America, where the children can play outside without worry of guns, drugs or kidnappers. Granted, there's also not much to "do" here. A few parks, a grain elevator, a bar, a diner and a gas station. Oh, and let's not forget the volunteer fire department. But we like the quiet. We like the safety.</div>
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There is a park across the street from my house, which is great because it's almost an extension of my yard. My monkeys are over there, along with many other kids, at any given time of day. People even come from out of town to play at this park. It gets a lot of use. We also happen to live on the corner of "Main Street" and a county highway that runs through our sleepy little village. The highway sees traffic from semi trucks hauling grain and pigs, people going from one village to the next, motorcycle groups doing (barhop) "rides" and even a bicycle race every summer. While the highway turns before the park, the road in front of the park still gets a fair amount of traffic from residents and errant motorcyclists who missed the sign. Though there is a stop sign at the end of the block, people often drive faster than they should, especially given that there's a park full of children there. (Never mind my 2 yo escape artist who has been known to take it upon himself to sneak out and go to the park on his own. I could write a whole post on his escape tactics, they're that impressive.) We've heard cars hit the brakes before.</div>
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One of my neighbors, who's children are grown, really has a bee in her bonnet (rightly so) about how fast people drive here, and has tried to get a removable speed bump put up. The most surprising thing is that the speeding offenders are often parents of younger children. Go figure. While the council thought it was cost prohibitive to put up a speed bump, they decided on putting up some extra signs.</div>
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The first of such signs was put up yesterday.</div>
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Our lovely town cop placed a small stand-alone sign (as seen at the top) in the middle of the street right as you enter our block.</div>
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After about half an hour (no exaggeration), a young mom, talking on her cell phone, comes cruising around the corner and SMOKES the sign. (Kong was there to witness this whole event.) Since she had a street sign jammed under her car and windshield washer fluid pouring everywhere so she didn't have much choice, she stopped, got out, and proceeded to get mad about "who puts a <i>blankety blank</i> sign <b>in the middle </b>of the <i>bleeping</i> street??" My husband was quick to point out that at least it was a "<i>blankety blank</i> sign and not a <i>blankety blank</i> kid." "Huh. Yeah. No kidding," she said.</div>
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Guess it proves the point that it needs to be there.</div>
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Here's your sign, sweetheart. **rolls eyes** Heeeere's yer sign.</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-32613127651068179512013-05-02T12:06:00.000-05:002013-05-02T12:07:42.059-05:00Kelly's Easy Meatballs<div>
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I have this recipe for meatballs that is Deee-LISH!</div>
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My secret ingredient? FRESH bread crumbs. Take 2 slices of bread and toss them in your blender or processor (I have a processor attachment for by blender that is aWeSoMe! Very handy.) I use the bread ends for this. So do that. No need to toast them. The freshness makes the meatballs nice and moist. Trust me. Once, out of laziness, I used store-bought, dried out bread crumbs. Gross. </div>
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And because I wouldn't be me without 21 adaptations to every recipe I use, and because I have a larger family, I often "stretch" the recipe by adding in ground turkey. The kind from Aldi that comes frozen in a tube. It's about $1.69 for a roll. Price of hamburger these days is like, what? $3.99 / lb some days? On a super sale $2.50? So yeah. Turkey. BUT!!! Don't use more than 2 to 1 (one lb hamburger, 1/2 lb turkey, unless you use the better quality ground turkey maybe) cuz then the texture gets... weird. Another bonus: the turkey makes them healthier. Oh, and I use 85/15 burger. I would not do 93/7. Too dry. Too flavorless. Blech.</div>
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Ok. Enough blabbering.</div>
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1 lb hamburger</div>
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1 Tbsp parsley flakes (you could use fresh too for some serious flavor)</div>
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1 Tbsp Parmesan</div>
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1/2 tsp pepper</div>
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1/2 tsp garlic powder, or fresh, if you're feelin' jazzy</div>
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3/4 tsp salt</div>
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1 egg, beaten</div>
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1 cup bread crumbs</div>
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Mix burger and spices, plus egg. Add bread crumbs in last after all other ingredients are mixed. Roll into balls 1 to 1 1/2 inches. Cook in med to large pan over med heat. Turn and cover. You could also bake in oven at 400 for 20-25 minutes, or 350 for 30. </div>
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These are so delicious they don't need sauce. My kids often eat them with Parmesan buttered spaghetti, cuz certain picky kids don't like sauce. </div>
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Oh, and if you add turkey, make sure you up the rest of the ingredients too, including egg. </div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-30683873858053352392013-04-12T18:14:00.001-05:002013-04-12T18:17:05.411-05:00Special Person <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winter Dance Recital - Feb 2013</td></tr>
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In the Kindergarten classes here in our town, each child has a week when they are the Special Person, or, Star of the Week. It's a great chance for the kids to share just a little extra about themselves, show off some special things, and also hear what the other students think makes them special.<br />
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This week it was Miss Cheeks' turn.</div>
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We filled out her questionnaire, gathered some pictures, and a few other things for her to take to school. Some time during the week, that child gets a special time to talk about the things they brought. At the end of the week, in the Kindergarten News newsletter, a summary of that child's "stuff" is given. I love reading these. Five year olds are fascinating, hilarious, and certainly imaginative. What will they come up with?</div>
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Here is Cheeks' summary: (and yes, I've been waiting all week to read it!)</div>
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Miss Cheeks was the special person this week in <i>Mrs. TheBestKinderTeacher's</i> classroom. Cheeks has 3 brothers, <i>George, Boots</i> and <i>Huggyface</i>, and 2 sisters, <i>Koko</i> and <i>Schweetheart</i>. They live in <i>OurTown</i>. Cheeks and her family vacationed at Wild Mountain. She especially liked the water slide. Cheeks likes to visit her Grandma and Grandpa's house where they have tea parties. She showed us her pretty dance class outfit and all the patches that she has earned in Girl Scouts. We were very impressed that she can do the splits. At home she helps out by cleaning her room (<i>really?</i>), doing dishes (<i>hm... must be secret dishes</i>), and shoveling snow (<i>well,... ok, kinda</i>). Taya likes the secret handshake that they have. Wes thinks that she is a good runner, and Elle says that they play school outside. When she grows up, Cheeks would like to be a cake decorator, ride horse for a hobby (<i>never mind that she's never been close to a horse</i>), and live in the country. (<i>I have no idea what her reasoning is for this. But it's interesting. And I agree. </i>:-D<i> </i>)</blockquote>
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Most often the answers from classmates are things like, play at recess, good at math. So secret handshake? Love it. I'll have to ask her about that. Runner? I laugh. Because she's a total klutz often tripping over her own feet or even running into walls. (which also makes me laugh. Is that bad?) The careers question is interesting too, though there are many who answer farmer or some such occupation that a family member probably has. No one EVER picks to live someplace exotic like New York, or Africa. They're all pretty much wanting to live right where they live now.</div>
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The other kid? Wants to be an election judge (<i>now </i>that's<i> a unique one</i>), swim for a hobby, and live in the same house he lives in now. (<i>See?</i>)</div>
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<b><i>*pics are some she chose to bring to school. And she was </i>very<i> specific about not wanting ones where she was naked. I wonder why? </i>;)</b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Well, Miss Cheeks, you are definitely special, </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">and you're certainly a star in my world. </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Your sweet spirit and bubbly personality shine very brightly!</span></b></div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-80309307621532626632013-02-13T23:42:00.000-06:002013-02-13T23:42:38.662-06:00Fortune-ately<div style="text-align: justify;">
Spoiler alert: You are about to see my kids' Valentine's.... BEFORE Valentine's day. GASP! ...or whatever. </div>
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For some strange reason, let's blame Pinterest, I decided that this year I wanted to make the school Valentine's. Not that there's anything wrong with box Valentine's. I've done them before and will do them again. But I always appreciate something creative, something not the norm. However, my "appreciating" doesn't always make me able/capable/organized enough to actually <i>do</i> something out of the norm. Hello! Five kids does not allow much time for putz-y artsy craftsy fun stuff. Nevermind that it's about 75 somethings I would have to make. And, crafty stuff isn't always cheap.</div>
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Introducing.... my wacky Valentine idea. :D</div>
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The little Chinese symbol means "friendship." (I thought "love" was probably a bit much for Kinder, second and third graders.)</div>
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I get my best ideas while washing dishes. Don't ask me why. Dishes were my second to least favorite chore while growing up. Now, it's my thinking time. A few days ago, as I was cleaning the kitchen, the idea suddenly came to me... Fortune Cookies! The teachers often times would rather you give something besides candy, but you can't make anything edible homemade. Fortune cookies, however, are not normal school holiday fare, aren't sugar laced, and offer a bit of fun with the fortune. AND, I could use a play on words in the nice little Valentine's message - <i>Fortun</i>ately. (Ok. I'm a nerd.)</div>
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I have a really great friend with a really awesome scrapbooking program on her computer. She uses this thing to make all sorts of super cute stuff on all the time, and texts me pics all day of her adorable creations. After googling and experimenting unsuccessfully for over an hour, I called her. In minutes, she had exactly what I wanted, created on this program, and she texted me a picture. Woohoo! Send 'em to the printer, baby!</div>
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Before supper, I <strike>squashed my need for perfectionism</strike> let the kids sign and cut out their own hearts, then I stapled on the wrapped fortune cookies. Very easy. You could wow this up in a lot of ways with a contrasting paper backing, or filling mini take-out boxes, adding ribbon, glitter, or cello bags with other Asian inspired treats. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--39Ro5JKkHE/URx3mIywExI/AAAAAAAADQM/0evlPucZZ7Y/s1600/IMG_3526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--39Ro5JKkHE/URx3mIywExI/AAAAAAAADQM/0evlPucZZ7Y/s640/IMG_3526.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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This worked perfectly for my budget and desire for something "outside the (Valentine's) box." One box of cookies was $1.42 for about 13. That equaled out to less than $2.50 per class for the treats. The pack of card stock (50 pgs) cost about $3.50. Print. Cut. Staple. And if you staple it just so, the heart will stand up like it's on display. </div>
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Now, hopefully, the kids' classmates will think it's as cool as I do. Or, at least I hope they won't think it's lame.</div>
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Happy Valentine's Day. </div>
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Hope you have fun loving on those near and dear to you (romantic element not a requirement).</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-9427007988136690832013-01-29T22:14:00.002-06:002013-01-29T22:38:03.168-06:00Sweet six (thank God it's not -teen)<br />
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Today we wish a Happy Birthday to our sweet Cheeks.</div>
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Loving. </div>
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Generous. </div>
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Playful. </div>
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Sassy. </div>
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Adores her sister. </div>
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Always thankful. </div>
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Easy to please. </div>
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Silly. </div>
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Trendsetter. </div>
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Dancer. </div>
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Daydreamer. </div>
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Finger sucker. </div>
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Blankie hugger. </div>
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Great big smiler. </div>
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Joyful. </div>
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A true treasure.</div>
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On birthdays, I usually still pause to remember the day each of my children were born, if I'm given a minute (not always). My biggest baby by 1 lb 6 oz and yet the shortest delivery of the first three, Cheeks weighed in at 8 lbs, 5 oz, a birth weight shared with her youngest brother in a tie for biggest baby. (You notice that <i>mere</i> 1 pound +. Trust me.) As a baby, she was a super eater, and the most content out of them all. The kind of baby that gave people pause to consider maybe having another. Easy going, quiet. Snuggle bug. Happy to watch what's going on around her. If she didn't like something or needed something, she'd let you know. Six years later, she's still very much that way.</div>
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She loves school, and her eagerness to read and write and do math is brought home as evidenced by the, <i>ahem</i>, "artwork" that she places everywhere (walls, freshly painted door frames, dressers, purses, suitcases, storage boxes), and many many conversations revolve around how to spell something or how much 100 plus 100 equals. She is often seen carrying around paper and pen/pencil/marker, doodling away.</div>
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She's growing into such a beauty. Gaining poise and grace. (We still need a lot of work on that last one, though.) The baby-ness of her face and shape is gone, replaced by a girly-ness that makes my heart both swell and quiver nervously. I have considered taking daily shots of her outfits, put together all on her own, combinations I would NEVER in a MILLION YEARS come up with, but she totally pulls it off, and it completely expresses who she is.</div>
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For her birthday, her topping her list was nail polish, real nail polish in red, purple and blue. (No, I'm a party pooper and din't get her any in fear that little brother might get a hold of it, but someone else might jump in on that, in which case I can't say no. Right?) She loves to be fancy and pretty, but nothing of the diva of her older sister (thank GOODNESS).</div>
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We celebrated quietly (or not) at home, just our family, with taco salad and cake and ice cream. And it was lovely.</div>
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Happy 6th, girl. I'm enjoying watching you grow and bloom. Just, slow down a little, please. :)</div>
All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-2503080374289067402013-01-19T16:44:00.002-06:002013-01-19T16:44:22.008-06:00Responsible<div style="text-align: justify;">
So Koko says to me...</div>
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We were talking about getting out the Easy-Bake oven.</div>
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Why do parents buy these dumb things? They take up an awkward amount of space and they're a total hassle to get out or store, the cakes aren't great, the mixes are super spendy, and they make such a minuscule amount of cake that it's ridiculous.</div>
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But... it's a little girl's wonderland of cake baking. Cake. Frosting. Sprinkles. What's not to love, right?</div>
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Clearly it's apparent that I hem and haw when it comes to the girls asking to get it out. Frankly, I just don't want to be bothered with all the mess. So the other day I told Koko that.</div>
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And her response....</div>
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... Well mom, I'm responsible enough.<br />
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Hm. I'm responsible enough, huh?</div>
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The thing is...she probably IS responsible enough. But *I* am not entirely sure I'm ready to admit that, to give up that control, to chance it.</div>
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Ahhhh, parenting. Growth is not just for children. :)</div>
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**Note after the fact: She is not responsible enough. Clearly we need to have lessons on "reading directions" and "how to measure".</div>
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The unwanted helper, who got up from his nap an hour early MUCH to my dismay.</div>
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<i>No children or cakes were harmed during this cake baking <strike>torture session</strike> experiment. Cake baking (and real cupcake baking since we needed something we could </i>actually<i> eat) was done in an effort to raise the spirits of one small brother who did not get to attend the Monster Truck Rally with certain older brother and father. Next year all mothers will be spared of "Easy"Bake cake baking torture and will proceed directly to Monster Jam for loud and expensive entertainment. By comparison, it will probably be money well spent to spare mothers from harm, er, breakdown.</i></div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-8423682410522516442013-01-18T14:54:00.003-06:002013-01-18T15:44:59.896-06:00New toys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Got a new toaster today !!! </div>
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Not what you were expecting when I said 'toys'? But isn't she niiiiice??? Can hold FOUR slices. For a family of 7, this is much needed over our previous 2-slicer.</div>
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Getting a new toaster is quite an event if you knew anything about my toaster issues for the past, oh, say, 5 years... <i><b>at least</b></i>. Why did it take me so long to get a new toaster? Good question. Hopefully, we will no longer be burning the first two pieces of toast every morning. Woohoo! (And if we do, I'm taking the sucker back!)</div>
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As I unpacked the toaster, Boots laid eyes on the box the toaster came in and claimed it his. He spent over an hour and a half playing with it. Right away he imagined it as his boat, and set about coloring it, taping it and whatever else needed to be done to make it a boat. (Stapling it, I see now.) But when he finished, he decided it was a fire truck instead.</div>
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No problem, buddy. It's <i>your</i> imagination.</div>
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Firehouse dog?</div>
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Love it!</div>
All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-442258933425042422013-01-14T23:43:00.002-06:002013-01-14T23:43:45.244-06:00Grace for mothering<div style="text-align: justify;">
There are days when I lack the desire to mother. Days that are long, filled with tears, whines, complaints, dirty socks and dumped out blocks. Every job has rough days. Mothering is not to be excluded. </div>
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Plans can be made, intentions be set, lists to check off, but bubbles in the turtle tank, feverish babies who want to be held, quick trips to the store for forgotten class snacks, can derail the best laid plans in exchange for sickies on the couch or unplanned 3-hour aquarium cleaning sessions instead. </div>
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Sometimes, at the end of days like that, like this, and sometimes in the <i>midst</i> of it, I feel guilty for dreaming of far away lands where no one is demanding my attention, my energy, or my patience. Where no one complains of the meal I'm making or that their pesky brother is <i>still</i> talking and won't be quiet 63 minutes after bedtime. I feel guilty because I wish that I could just snap out of it and be the cheerful, patient, energetic mom with fun up her sleeves and supper on the table. I feel guilty for not living in the moment, for knowing that time is fleeting and I will never get these moments back. I know there are people, I <i>know</i> people, who wish for this, the pitter-patter of feet that sound nothing like pitter-patters and more like rowdy buffalo stampeding. They long for someone to need them, for the cries of mama for the umpteenth time to get more juice, for never ending stories about all the amazing character traits and powers of 567 different Pokemon dudes. </div>
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Am I ungrateful, I ask myself? Do I not value these precious gifts? No, I am not ungrateful, and I do value the children I am blessed with. And while I suppose I could be <i>more</i> grateful and spend <i>more</i> time reveling in the multitude of ways I'm blessed, the thing is... I'm human. I'm human in my need for solitude, for re-energizing, for the need to not be needed for just a little while. </div>
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If there's one thing I've learned as a mother, it's that I need to take time, to <i>make</i> time, for me. It's not selfish, it's survival. Even Jesus sought time to be alone. The marvelous thing about taking that time, is that the next day, I'm a much better mom. I can listen to the Pokemon business and even manage to feign interest (sorry, Pokemon, it's unlikely you'll ever win my affections), I can hug and cuddle without the urge to flee far and fast - no 'I don't want to be touched' syndrome. I can tickle the way out of a tantrum, and I can listen and watch and participate with much more enjoyment, not just mere tolerance. I can be wholly thankful for the precious lives I tend and direct.</div>
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God, I ask that you would grant me grace for myself in knowing it's ok to need a break, and grace for those days, weeks or months when it's just not possible. Lord, help me to be the best mom I can be in all moments, and may the moments that are scratchy and jagged, void of the overflow of love, be moments where you rise up and shine when I do not. Amen.</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-50817960976437585212012-12-10T13:52:00.002-06:002012-12-10T13:52:33.421-06:00Mama never told me...<div style="text-align: justify;">
...There'd be days like this. Oh boy. It's a doozy.</div>
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We've had the flu (so far, 6 out of 7 of us, with one home today). There's "flu-ness" everywhere. Some serious cleaning needs to be done, and trust me when I say I'm trying, but one little boy is dead set against the making of progress.</div>
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There are piles of bedding that need to have the chunks shaken out before they can even come near my washing machine. (Daddy's who are the breadwinners, and who have cashed out all their remaining vacation/sick days in order to buy Christmas presents, don't want to get anywhere near pukey germs. Can't say I blame him, er, them.) Toilets desperately need to be cleaned. Socks, now washed, needed to be matched. We've had so many baths that there is a pile of towels so high it rivals Mount Kilimanjaro. Garbage cans need to be restored to their actual intended function. Never mind the disinfecting of <i>everything</i> that would be beneficial to all of mankind, and then the general stuff of everyday. </div>
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But mommies with the flu, who don't seem to get the quick 12-hour variety that everyone else got, aren't much good for stuff like that. Or, at least, not <i>all</i> that. Because let's be honest. Even when the mom is sick, she's still a mom, and you can never really take a day totally off. Not even a sick day.</div>
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Before I got sick, the little guy, newly turned two, he got it. Thankfully this is the first time he's had the flu. One thing about toddlers, they don't give you any barf warning. So as he sat watching cartoons, reclining on the floor in front of the tv, he drenched himself and the rug around him. Lovely. I shampooed and scrubbed it twice and the smell still didn't come out. So I dumped vinegar on it and shampooed it again. Well, it doesn't smell like barf anymore but the vinegar smell is only a small improvement. Round 4, dear Bissell Powercleaner?</div>
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Friday was payday. Checkbooks need to be balanced. Bills need to be paid. All so I can <i>start</i> the task of Christmas shopping. (Yes, I said 'start.' I officially detest you people who were done a week ago.) But apparently, boys need to be cuddled more than any of that. Because when you don't cuddle them, they will make you pay.</div>
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And then he will help himself to yogurt. And applesauce. <i>Sorry, no picture</i>.</div>
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After he is fed and cuddled, and you are tricked into thinking all is well, you will try to <strike>climb Mount Kilimanjaro</strike> do some laundry. He will take these moments of your distraction and he will try to change his poopy diaper. All by himself. And then try to get new clothes. All by himself. And he will leave a poopy trail all up the stairs. The carpeted stairs. And I will get to clean that, all by myself. </div>
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Seriously wishing I had a stair attachment on my carpet cleaner right now. </div>
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In retrospect, clean towels is no trade-off for poopy stairs. Live and learn.</div>
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Oh, did I mention Schweetheart is coming to visit, much overdue? Yeah, so there's prepping for her that needs to be done. Don't want the poor girl to walk in and feel like she's staying at the local dump. Clean. Purge. Paint. Rearrange. Plus, need to plan some fun stuff to do. I see some baking in the future!!!</div>
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I have people in my life who seem to think I'm the worst mom ever, worst housekeeper ever. But let me just challenge you to live my life for a week. A day is not long enough. <b>Anyone</b> can survive a day. Try a week. A month. When there's no respite in sight. Yeah, that's when you can grow some compassion for how much I actually DO accomplish. My floors might not be spotless, there are piles of clutter in most corners. But the important stuff gets done. Meals, laundry, hugs, some homework. Sure, I need to take more time to listen and hug on my kids, to read them stories, spend less time online, clean a closet. But I think we can all think of things we could do better, could have done better. We have to make choices. At times, one thing gets "neglected" to take care of another more pressing issue. I have no desire to strive for perfection. It's way too hard, and anytime I've had a backlash of trying to be something I'm not because someone criticized me and I tried harder, it only made me very unhappy. If ya know the saying, "If mama ain't happy, ain't no one happy" then you'll know that spotless counters and stovetops are not worth the OCD freak-outs, cleaning-Nazi attitude and screaming that happen when trying to maintain that illusion of perfection. Not worth it to me, anyway. I don't need illusions. I'm happy being imperfectly me. I know my house is not hoarder-esque/Dept of Sanitation worthy, and my children are loved and tended. The people that love them and <i>know them well</i>, constantly tell me stories of how awesome they are. Cuz they are. so. awesome.</div>
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(FYI, I wrote this post while eating lunch. And, other than my attempt to balance the checkbook gone cuddle time, I haven't sat down today.)</div>
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So, on "days like this," I suit up, and do <i>my</i> best. Everything will get done it time. And THANK THE HOLY STARS ABOVE for naptime.</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-46839104735280102102012-11-29T19:20:00.000-06:002012-11-29T19:20:06.414-06:00H E O I<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have a two year old.</div>
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There's a lot indicated in that statement.</div>
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It's true. My baby is two, the last baby I'll ever have this side of grandkids. It's good. And sad. Because I'm addicted to babies. But that's another post. But that he's TWO, and where has time flown, where has my baby gone but to toddler-land of changes and God help me, batten down the hatches, folks, he's two. </div>
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Two year olds are curious creatures. </div>
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Not only are they into absolutely everything and beyond, but they are most interesting to observe. They do some seriously funny stuff. The faces they make, the things they say, the wrong ways they say it. Their timing! And then the fact that they usually love the attention they're geting with everyone looking at them and laughing just feeds it so much more.</div>
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Huggyface just strutted his stuff into the kitchen where I was trying to hide and eat my mashed potatoes in peace (I know, it was a ridiculous dream). I love it when they act all official and serious, like they are talking business, and it's important stuff. Chin down. Voice low. Looking up at you with wide, "serious" eyes. Nodding their head a lot. Such little mimickers. He's intent on getting a spoon from the drawer. I'm intent on him not getting such <strike>weapon</strike> <strike>device of destruction</strike> object. We're playing a game of open drawer / close drawer. Since we are done eating, and he didn't first go scouring the fridge, I'm trying to ask him why he wants the spoon. But two-year-olds don't understand <i>why</i>, so this is basically a pointless line of questioning. Still I persist. He answers matter-of-factly.</div>
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<i>Why do you want a spoon?</i></div>
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Why.</div>
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<i>What do you want a spoon for?</i></div>
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For.</div>
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<i>What are you going to do with the spoon?</i></div>
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Do.</div>
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Out of ways to rephrase, I repeat.</div>
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<i>What will you do with the spoon?</i></div>
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H E O I.</div>
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Oh. Well. By all means then. Ok. H E I O. Why didn't I think of that?</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-29867609092939903942012-10-01T23:12:00.000-05:002012-10-01T23:12:04.712-05:00Summer Catch-Up - July<div style="text-align: justify;">
Out summer seemed to both drag and fly by. There didn't seem to be enough time to get a lot of the things done we waned to do (on our Bucket List) but that wasn't for lack of doing. There wasn't a lot of time for blogging though. When mama gets distracted on the computer, people sometimes disappear to Naughtyland. Not a good thing. And, with as many monkeys as I have to manage, I didn't get many pics, either.</div>
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July was hotter than the dickins. You'd think that we spent a lot of time in our pool, but because of the heat, I had a hard time, ahem, maintaining chemical balance... which in layman's terms means that it turned green with algae and I couldn't get rid of it.</div>
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The 4th of July was no exception to the hot. On our Bucket List we had put to go to the big Independence Day parade in my hometown, but since it starts at 10, runs two hours into the heat of the day, offers little shade and I would be going alone (sans husband, not kids), we opted for a smaller, closer to home parade. George and Boots got to ride in the firetrucks with their uncle and cousins, throwing candy and waving their little arms off. I just beamed with pride at that, for some reason. Meanwhile, the girls and I sweated our tushies off sitting on the curb, and then treated ourselves to snow cones. Mmmm. We ended the night back in that same little town, watching the fireworks on the side of the highway. And I'm happy to say that this year, everyone watched without being overwhelmed with the noise, even Huggyface, though given that it was way past his bedtime, he was done about halfway through, wanting only his nukie, his blankie and the carseat.</div>
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July also brought the end of gymnastics. It was truly enjoyable, and while we debated having the girls continue it during the school year, dance won out (having nothing to do with the fact that it's conveniently 5 blocks away at the school, and they stay there til 5:30. ;D ). But I'm sure we'll be doing that again. It was a good time of skill building - working on balance and coordination skills, and even Huggyface could participate.</div>
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While daddy worked to make a living, the kids and I jetted off to Duluth, MN for a church conference. We almost didn't make it as George got a sudden case of the barfies, so we missed the first day, but got there just in time to set up our tent in the dark while mosquitoes knawed on our sweaty flesh. We were fortunate to have friends, and former church members who live in the area, who had a nice big yard for us to stay in. Several others from my church group camped there also. The highlights of camping were not being able to sleep due to the heat and humidity (the lake effect of cooling off at night wasn't working. This was some very stubborn summer heat.), an air mattress that leaked, and what I would swear was a herd of deer rubbing up against my tent in the middle of the night. Always an adventure. However, the next morning when we got up and drove into Duluth, finally catching a glimpse of Lake Superior was breathtaking. I only wished I hadn't been driving (and following someone) because I could have just sat there lookin'. (Bucket List items *Going camping, *Going to Duluth.)<br />
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While we had a great time at the conference, we did take the opportunity to sight see, and our host graciously played tour guide, too. We enjoyed seeing the ships docked, the lighthouse on the lake, a moose chair and a bit of ice cream. Also a big highlight were these fountains that shoot up from the sidewalk. There were two different spots of them, and the kids took full advantage of getting as wet as possible.<br />
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One place we went on our sightseeing tour where I didn't get any pictures of somehow, was <a href="http://www.engertowerduluth.com/">Enger Tower</a>, the <a href="http://minnesota.publicradio.org/display/web/2010/11/12/duluth-peace-bell/">Peace Bell</a> and the <a href="http://www.superiortrails.com/duluth-engerpark.html">Japanese garden</a> - all one place. I could never remember the name, I kept calling it Angry Tower, and up until just now when I Googled it, I thought it was called Anger Tower. lol Cool video of bell being run <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QeI8mzBYXH0">here</a>.) The Tower offers some ah-mazing panoramic views of the city and the lake.<br />
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While we enjoyed our trip to Duluth, the kids were not so thrilled with all the driving, and while they liked it, they decided they don't want to go back any time too soon. Next time... with daddy, for sure. And... a hotel.<br />
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Finally, we ended July with a certain little boy's birthday. Boy was he excited to turn four (though he really wanted to be five. All the good things happen when you're five, apparently.) Since he figured out how to ride without training wheels, all by himself, on Cheeks old bike that had a flat tire - the kid was d.e.t.e.r.m.i.n.e.d - we thought a new bike was in order for his birthday. We celebrated with family and friends, and some pinata fun, complements of Grammie.<br />
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Phew. And you haven't even seen August yet.</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-47583491860323750442012-09-05T12:12:00.001-05:002012-09-05T12:35:51.813-05:00Watch Them Grow<br />
Guess what? School's back!<br />
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Ok yeah. Happy dance. (You've seen that pic floating around on FB where the kids are lined up with glum faces while the mom is jumping in the air with a big ole grin? Yeah, that's so me.)<br />
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I know, some may think "how cold is that? Doesn't she love her children?"<br />
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Absolutely! But I'm not one to get too sappy at this time of year.<br />
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Wrote a little poem for ya:<br />
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<b>Watch Them Grow</b></div>
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Alarms ding, faces beam</div>
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Bells ring, shoes gleam.</div>
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Buses rumble, Desks glisten,</div>
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Leaves tumble, Students listen.</div>
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Moms with tears, moms who cheer,</div>
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Either way, this time is dear.</div>
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I Love my kids but I can say</div>
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I’m rather happy for this day.</div>
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Schedules, quiet, early bedtime</div>
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“School starts today,” is the headline.</div>
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Time for learning, growing, changing.</div>
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I find this so awe-inspiring.</div>
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They will return at end of day,</div>
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Bright faces, smiles, with much to say.</div>
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I don’t get sad to see them go</div>
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Because I love to watch them grow.</div>
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Welcome to Third Grade, Second Grade, and Kindergarten, respectively.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kk9jSRVM93w/UEeFlvwDwSI/AAAAAAAADJk/cOF6Wq5K8So/s1600/_MG_3337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kk9jSRVM93w/UEeFlvwDwSI/AAAAAAAADJk/cOF6Wq5K8So/s640/_MG_3337.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Look at those cuties with goofy faces. :D<br />
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Their choice in outfits is killer.<br />
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<li>George chose old clothes (not the new shirt) "because he likes these clothes." Well, ok then.</li>
<li>Koko is just.. um.. a future heartbreaker, and the outfit (that yes, **I** let her buy, and may have even picked out for her) is just, well, so ... grownup. sigh.</li>
<li>And Miss Cheeks, well, she's channeling Kiss (think old rockers with big hair and spandex) with her fuzzy shirt and silver leggings. Love it.</li>
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Now maybe I'll get around to blogging about our summer fun. lol</div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-78744391343507589892012-08-30T16:06:00.004-05:002012-08-30T16:07:26.261-05:00"Smile"<br />
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Oh, here's something worthy of posting. I shot this video yesterday of Huggyface. It's hilarious. He LOVES the camera, both taking pictures and having his picture taken. He's got "smile" down pat. He also makes this hilarious "O" face that cracks us up <b><i>e v e r y </i></b> time. But the reason I got the camera out is when he hopped on my lap, I "honked" his nose, and then he copied me. It was SO funny, I couldn't resist. Enjoy!
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6oB1vC7XLQo" width="640"></iframe>
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<br />All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-60689820031085042552012-08-30T16:02:00.000-05:002012-08-30T16:07:09.853-05:00Tired<br />
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I'm tired. Thankfully, we're at the end of a very. long. summer. Which is good cuz this mama needs a break. Not that it'll be all bon bons and soaps cuz the two most-maintenance-required ones will still be at home, but at least it will be less. Less noise. Fewer bodies. Hopefully a better work schedule for the Mr. And the little ones are easier to please.</div>
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I know God had a plan and reasons for blessing me with so many children, but sometimes I question his sanity, because of the lack of mine.</div>
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I'm sure that I contribute (heftily) to my own misery but I have always been a procrastinator and a poor time manager, among other things, so I don't know if this is His way of getting me to change that or just torture me.</div>
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Currently, lots of torture, not much change.</div>
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Please understand, I do say all this with some edge of sarcasm. But also some sincerity.</div>
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I've had a rough year, just personally, nothing bad that's happened really. Just growing older, sorting through my life's worth of baggage, hormone shifts, pounds I'm unsuccessfully trying to shed, plus 5 kids and a marriage to manage. It's a lot to... well, manage.</div>
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So sorry for my lack of posting, and my negative attitude today. It hasn't been all bad or humdrum. We've had some fun. I just have to find the time and energy to share it.</div>
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Maybe tomorrow, when my house is all cleaned.</div>
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(yes, that is me you hear laughing)</div>
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Maybe you can leave a comment and tell me the fun you've been having and the struggles you've faced. It's good to share both. Not just one or the other. The good can get others excited or smiling or help us realize the good we have in our own lives, the struggles to help us all realize we're not alone in them. So, do tell!</div>
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...</div>
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..........crickets .......................</div>
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I'm <i>w a a a i i i t t t i i i n n n g g g !</i></div>
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All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3386272382272896066.post-47447709332758149442012-08-09T00:43:00.000-05:002012-08-09T00:43:52.358-05:00It ain't over yet!<div style="text-align: justify;">
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I have seen a lot of people talking about how summer is almost over (I started hearing this mid-July. Seriously?). We still have a month left. I haven't decided if that is good or bad. Probably good for the Bucket List. (Have you ever made a summer bucket list?) We're still crossing things off, and have great plans to hit a bunch more.</div>
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My kids have gone crazy, though. It will be good when school starts. I have pretty much bombed on getting any sort of routine in place this summer (or ever). June went ok because there was summer school for one and gymnastics for the rest. Plus it was dang hot all the time and so the pool got a LOT of use. But then July came and the pool got a hole, and got green, and fixing either one of those posed a bit of a challenge <strike>to my laziness</strike>. (I have finally surrendered to the green, because really, how many chemicals can one pool take, and am draining the pool as we speak. The hole, however, has been fixed for over a week.)</div>
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We went to a movie yesterday. It was on our Bucket List. Yogi Bear. <a href="http://www.cinemark.com/summer-movie-clubhouse-2012">Cinemark</a> has a great summer program, and fortunately, a movie theater in a nearby town happens to (be the only theater in my state to) participate. Once a week (Tuesdays) they offer a showing of a slightly older kids movie, for only $1. This is great for multiple reasons. One - it's cheap, which makes it more realistic for the budget, especially when you have multiples and this isn't the only activity you want to do this week. Two - kids don't care that it's older, they are just excited to be at the theater. We don't go to a lot of movies, so this is particularly novel experience for our children. Three - it's all kids (and their chaperones) so the unruly toddler throwing his sippy cup and nukie, shouting "DOWN" and running up and down the aisles isn't as bothersome to the audience. <i>Not that I would know.</i> Kids are more tolerant of kid noise, plus, it's not like anyone's paid full price. </div>
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Each theater schedule is different. Ours happens to have three more weeks left, so maybe we'll catch another one before summer is over. But next time I'll feed them breakfast first. Nothing like feeding your kids candy for breakfast. Which was even better than the fruit pizza for breakfast they had the day before, or the chocolate cereal they had for supper later. (<a href="http://www.kelloggskrave.com/home.html">Krave</a>. It's all the rage. And I must say, the Double Chocolate really is the bomb. "Made with real chocolate." And it is!!!) I guess that is an indication that nutrition has taken a back burner this summer. Oh well. I never claimed to be supermom. haha! <i>Clearly</i>.</div>
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Here's our Summer Bucket List 2012</div>
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<ul>
<li><strike>Go to the beach/lake</strike></li>
<li>Go to a swimming pool <u>with daddy</u></li>
<li>Nighttime swimming (with glo-sticks)(Pinterest idea)</li>
<li><strike>Air Show</strike> (we did but <i>someone</i> - not me - didn't last long and so we left before the Blue Angels. :(</li>
<li>Go fishing</li>
<li><span style="text-align: justify;"><strike>Go to Duluth</strike> (church conference, but we did go see some touristy stuff)</span></li>
<li><strike>Camping</strike> (in Duluth)</li>
<li><strike>Rapidan Dam</strike> (even went for supper, not just to the park)</li>
<li>Breakfast outside</li>
<li><strike>Breakfast for supper</strike> (did a few times)</li>
<li><strike>Supper outside</strike></li>
<li><strike>Picnic</strike> (not sure if I have to be included, if not, then this one is done)</li>
<li><strike>Sibley Park</strike></li>
<li><strike>4th of July parade</strike> (went to an evening one and still sweat our butts off, but we did it)</li>
<li><strike>Make fruit pizza</strike></li>
<li>Make ice cream</li>
<li><strike>Ice cream for breakfast</strike></li>
<li>MOA - not sure we'll make this one</li>
<li>Camp in the backyard (not sure if we'll make this one either)</li>
<li>Bonfire with S'mores</li>
<li>Sleep in the living room (I have NO IDEA why this is such a big deal. lol)</li>
<li>Tie-dye (not sure we'll get this one done. They didn't show much interest :(</li>
<li>Red Jacket Bridge</li>
<li><strike>Lemonade stand</strike></li>
<li>Family bike ride (probably not gonna happen - I need my bike fixed)</li>
<li>Wash the car (you know, with sponges and the hose)</li>
<li>BMX track - we'll see. This was daddy's idea, and therefore his to implement</li>
<li>Decorate cupcakes</li>
<li>Vacation (soon!)</li>
<li>Waterpark (soon!)</li>
<li>Niagara Cave, Harmony MN (soon!)
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<li>Stay in a hotel (soon!)
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<li>Go to Como Zoo (possibly soon)</li>
<li>Candlelight dinner</li>
<li><strike>Catch fireflies</strike></li>
<li>Mini donuts at Farmer's Market (tried once and failed. maybe this week? On the way to my class reunion barbeque picnic at the lake? yeah, we'll see)</li>
<li>Geo-caching ? (available thru state park system)</li>
<li>Fly kites</li>
<li><strike>Go to a movie</strike></li>
<li>Human bubbles (Pinterest idea)</li>
<li>Experiment day/?week (sort of a Pinterest idea)</li>
<li>Minneopa</li>
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So 15 of 42 completed. And I think we can accomplish another 15 more, at least. Not bad. We'll knock off a handful with a mini-vacay weekend we have planned soon. A bucket list a great way to gather ideas of stuff to do, and then the kids feel like "we've done something" vs "we never do anything". Even with kids as young as mine, I've heard that line before, and with this list I can look and say, "oh, but we did XYZ." It also pushes you in a few ways - to be creative with your activities ( not everything has to cost $$,) to do things that you would rather not do but the kids would love, or things that you've never done before. Plus, since it's "on the Bucket List," cereal for supper suddenly becomes even more cool. (For the record, our "official" Breakfast for Supper meal was pancakes with strawberries, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce. I did not take the easy way out... <i>for that meal</i>.)</div>
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What would you have put on your summer bucket list?</div>
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<br /></div>All My Monkeyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05250378223599352702noreply@blogger.com0