Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Special Moment

As I sat watching my kids play together, laughing, teasing and enjoying each other's company, I thought to myself "it doesn't get much better than this."

Life has so many ups and downs. Sometimes it feels like some days, weeks or even years, are in the downs. But nothing makes life feel like the ups than just those tender sweet moments, when your child looks at you and says "I love you." or just comes and climbs in your lap and gives you a kiss and just wants to sit there with you.

The special moments in life sometimes may feel far and few between but if you look closely you can see that daily there are those moments. Moments to be captured in time, stored in our minds, to get us through the not so wonderful moments.

Hospital Stay

It had been a long 7 weeks since the birth of her sweet son. Having him was such a blessing but what was happening to her didn't feel like much of a heaven send at all.

As she thought back on his birth she was reminded that there was no labor involved in his birth, just a scheduled routine c-section. Though because of her past spinal blocks, it was very difficult to give her a spinal this time around. Scar tissue encircled the scar like sharks around a bleeding fish. After what seemed like forever the blue baby was born with his cord wrapped several times around him, as well as sporting two true knots. It was a miracle to hear him finally cry after getting some oxygen. Tears filled her eyes as she thought about this tiny infant in her arms, just as they had the first day she held him.

Why was she so sick? During her hospital stay after his birth, her incision became infected, blistered and a show stopper for all the nurses on the 4th floor who had to check it out. It took awhile for them to figure out that it was the sterie strips burning her sensitive skin. Once they were removed much relief was felt. But then her blood pressure began to rise and not even meds or laying on her side could control it. The doctors suggested she stay another day.

I am so glad to be home she thought as she looked at her newborn infant of just 7 weeks. Though she felt overly tired, exhausted and unsure of why she had another rash. When her son was just 2 weeks old she had broken out in another rash and ended up on steroids. She began to feel better, though her little infant thought that people stayed awake from 10 pm until 5 am, allowing her little to no sleep at all. No wonder she was so worn down she thought, I haven't slept for six weeks. Probably why when he was 4 weeks old she got a fever and sore throat.

"I just need to sleep" she thought as she held her little man in her arms, staring at his sweet and tiny features. Her six week check up had come and gone. But she had another appointment to get some birth control.

She had been overly anxious to go in to the doctor to get an IUD, she was a little apprehensive about the procedure yet very excited to know another one wouldn't be coming for a long while. She had every reason to be worried about the IUD, for some reason she bleed a lot, so much that the nurse had to get a blood clean up kit and she filled several pads in an hour. Luckily she was able to stay in the office and the bleeding got under control.

The next morning when she woke up, she discovered that her body once again was having an allergic reaction. "You got to be kidding me! I am probably allergic to the IUD!" she said aloud to herself. She called the OB and because she was 7 weeks postpartum they told her to call her primary physician. Being overly tired, emotional she broke down in tears. "What am I suppose to do?" she thought. She called her husband in tears and he called a doctor friend who told him to send his wife over.

"I don't know what to tell you about this rash, other than it appears to be systemic and possibly toxic shock. Who is your OB? Why wouldn't they see you? Who perscribed you Zoloft? You got an IUD yesterday? Oh I am so mad!" the doctor uttered as she spoke to the poor new mother. The doctor walked out of the room, called the OB, and sent the teared mother to their office.

"We're sorry we just don't know what to do about a rash. Oh you have a fever too?? We are just so unsure." was the response she got from the OB's office.

This was all on a Friday. Then Sunday, she couldn't get the strength to go to church instead she rested at home. Even her little newborn left for the four hours. As she was enjoying the silence and rest, the thought came to her. "You were really sick a few weeks ago with high fever, sore throat and you could have had strep and could now have scarlet fever?" She quickly went to the computer and googled scarlet fever. Sure enough her tongue her rash looked just like the pictures.

She called her husband to tell him her findings, to find out that their doctor friend who happened to go to their same church, was on her way over already to see how she was doing. She thought the scarlet fever sounded about right and that she should go get a strep test in the morning.

As a reluctant patient but one willing to get better, she went to the doctor and get a strep test. It was positive. Antibiotics were perscribed and she was sent home.

Knowing she needed lots of help the Relief Society President had called her to see if she could come by the next day and watch the kids for her. She was happy to have the help. Little did she know it was a scheduled blessing amist her not so blessed life.

She pleaded that her husband not go to work and stay home with her but he was unable to fullfill her wishes. Her friend called to offer to take the kids, but the RS pres was on her way over. She actually called and told her she would be there in about 15 minutes. She told her friend, not to worry about it. She was feeling light headed and dizzy and weaker than she had felt in a long time. She hung up the phone and crashed on the floor, to wake up to her two year old's tear streaked face, pulling away her mommy's hair crying "mommy, mommy."

With as much strength as she could muster she whispered to her son to come down stairs, amazingly he came quickly. He and his mom reassured the four year old that mom wasn't dead. The son grabbed the phone called Dad and told him to come home. Then called the neighbor to tell her that Mom had passed out and was laying on the floor. At that moment the RS President walked in the door.

The young mom was rushed to the ER to be sent back to the doctor's office she had visited the day before to only be sent back to the ER. Eight days, many tests, lots of blood drawn later, she came home. To realize it was going to be a long road ahead to recovery.

Friday, February 15, 2008

3 days have passed and the Path

Three days have passed since that fateful spring day. Sally had been taking a leisure walk along the dirt path through Madison Gardens. Her thoughts were on the blooming flowers and the lush green landscape. Bees were sipping sweet nectar from the blossoms. All around birds flew by stopping for brief moments on the tree branches to breathe in the fresh spring air before flying off to find more worms for their babies. She was in awe of such beauty and unaware of what lay before her on this path.

Through the sounds of chirping, buzzing,and the wind whispering, she heard footsteps approaching at a steady jogging pace. Up ahead of her was a bench nestled between two blossoming apricot trees, she thought that would be a great place to stop, rest and let the jogger pass her. While walking towards the bench she attempted to pull her water bottle out of her already too full bag, why did she always take that much stuff with her? As she pulled the plastic bottle out, a tampon and her keys fell out of her purse hitting the dirt path. She quickly attempted to bend over to recover her items.

The jogger with his head set on, admiring the beauty of his surroundings, didn't see Sally stopping. Before either of them knew it, he was tripping over the top of her, knocking her bag and items further across the park, landing flat on his face. What a first way to meet!

"Oh I am so sorry." he replied as he brushed the sand off his palms and knees. "Are you okay? I didn't see you stop. Here let me help you up." He said as he reached for her hand, as she was trying to gather and hide some of her unmentionables from her bag.

She reached for his hand, their eyes locked for but a brief moment. She embarrassedly and quietly said "Thank you. I am so sorry too."

Together they gathered the scattered items, running after a few fly away receipts. Sally rounding up as much as she could and quickly shoving it back into its original unorganized mess.

"I am Steve."

"Nice to meet you, I am Sally. So you come here often?" She replied with a little nervous chuckle, as he awkwardly handed her the feminine protection stick.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Paul Potts

Poor Pauly Potts performing proudly before people,
ponders possibilities of phame.

Sweet Sally Sue sat staring at the star as songs soared,
swiftly, softly, stunningly from the not so studly man.

Generous George Gunnyon gazed and gaawed at the Giant,
his ears glued to each gently hummed tune.

Curious Corrine Covington couldn't quite conceal,
her gasp of contentment.


There once was a boy named James who had two wonderful parents who loved him dearly. James lived near the edge of town in a small cottage with a straw roof. His family worked on a dairy farm owned by their neighbors.

One day his mother, who was sick in bed, gave him $5.00, because back where James lived $5.00 went a long way, to go and buy the family some groceries. James was excited with the chance to run an errand for his mom and be the dependable guy she expected him to be. He replayed her words in his mind, "Go straight to the store, do not stop for anything, buy only what is on the list and hurry home."

He hopped on his bike, flung his sac over his shoulder and began peddling as fast as he could. He thought about his up coming summer vacation as he began his six mile journey. Riding down the dirt road, with the dust flying behind, he saw something up ahead. From where he was it just seemed to be a black blob. His little legs peddled as fast as they could to reach the road obstruction. The closer he got the more he realized what lay before him. It was a herd of cattle.

In the middle of the cattle was a young calf that could not get up and walk. His mom's voice rang in his ear "don't stop for anything." But he knew that stopping right now would meet his mother's approval. He quickly turned around, road his bike back half a mile and turned down this side dirt driveway to Farmer Ted's house. He quickly dismounted his bike and ran to the front door. After several rapid knocks, Mr. Ted Smith answered the door.

"What can I do for you James."

"One of your calves is in the middle of the road, he appears hurt."

"Thank you James!." Mr. Smith said as he grabbed his keys off the side table and shut the door behind him.

"Throw your bike in the back of my truck and I'll give you a ride up the road."

"Thanks," replied James as he threw is bicycle in the truck bed, "I am in kind of a hurry my mom is sick and I need to do some errands for her."

They quickly reached the herd of cattle. Both of them stepped out of the truck. Mr. Smith headed straight to the injured calf, and James grabbed his bike. As James peddled off, Mr. Smith scooped up the young cow and put him in the back of his truck. He herded his cattle back behind the fence.

James now back on track and not too far off from his time schedule began to slow his feet, as he started on paved roads. Cautiously he watched for cars and trucks on the highway, though they were far and few in between they were fast.

He heard a car far behind him so he moved closer off the shoulder. When the car sounds came closer, they began to slow down. The car was driving at an almost stand still as it pulled in front of the young lad, and came to a stop. A little old gray haired lady, rolled down the window and beckoned James to her. That is when he noticed that her back tire had gone flat.

"Can you please help me young man? I must of hit a nail back there or something. My frail hands are not strong enough to change out my tire. Do you mind helping me?" Before he could let her know he really was in a hurry, he blurted out "Yes, Ma'am I'd be more than happy to help you."

15 minutes later, he tightened the last lug nut and wiped his greasy hands on his shirt. The lady graciously thanked him and offered him a $1 for his trouble. Even though money was tight, he refused her offer and told her it was his pleasure. He peddled off and thoughts of what he could have done with his money flooded his brain. "Why didn't I take the money?" he thought to himself.

Finally he arrived at the store. While pulling the shopping list out of his pocket he walked through the self opening doors. Milk, bread, eggs, apples and ice cream were on the list. He chuckled at the list, thinking about the fact that they lived next to a dairy farm and they had to buy milk. They also had an orchard of apple trees in the back but those were a few months off from producing fruit.

He grabbed a cart, walked down the aisles and tossed the necessary items in the basket. He approached the check out stand, to see three people in line before him. He looked down at his wrist to see that he was expected to be home in five minutes. "hurry hurry...why don't they have more than one check out stand. I am going to be late and my mom is going to be worried."

He placed his items on the black moving belt. Ching. Ching. Ching. Ching. Ching. "$4.95" the cashier said. James took the change and bills out of his pocket, while counting it out he placed it in the out reached worker's hand.

As quickly as possible he left the store, already a few minutes late, and unlocked his bike. As he rode out of the lot, he saw Farmer Ted's truck.

"Hey James, I put the calf in the barn and remembered you saying you were in a hurry, so I thought I'd catch up with you and see if you need a ride."

A big smile marked James face as he hoped into the truck. "Thank you so much! My mom worries if I am just a minute late, and now I am running on 7!"

"I'll get you home. And while I have you hear I have a question for you. Would you like to earn some money this summer by helping me out on my farm? I spoke with your parents and they said that I'd have to ask you but that they were ok with it."

"That will be great" James said as they drove down the dirt road.

The day turned out to be a good one, James thought as he opened the door to the cottage.

"I am home Mom! Mom?"

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Chain Reaction

If you give a mother a night out, she will have to call a babysitter.
If she gets a babysitter to come over she will have to clean up the house.
If she has to clean up the house she will end up getting all sweaty and dirty.
If she gets all dirty she will have to take a shower.
If she takes a shower, she will notice the extra mold growing in the corners.
If she notices the mold, she will take a lot longer in the shower to get it all cleaned.
If she spends extra time in the shower, her husband will grow irritated at the fact that they will be late.
If her husband is all irritated she will not want to go out on a date.
If she doesn't want to go out on a date, she will never get a chance to leave her house.
If she never gets a chance to leave the house, she will never have to call a babysitter.
If she never has to get a babysitter, she will not feel obligated to clean up the house.
If she doesn't have to clean the house, she may just want to stay home in bed and forget her night out.

prompt no image available

I am not sure if this was the intention but what I got was a "Image Not Available" and it sparked in me the idea that sometimes in life, well always in life we don't see the future, there isn't a predestined picture of what our life will be more of what we make of it. Heavenly father knows each of us and our potential but because we chose to come to this life and were given free agency we are the ones who decide who we are going to become.

As of now there is no image set in stone of who we will become, only the idea the glimmer of hope. Each day we make the choices of what that image will end up looking like.

You know as the new year has come a long I have been thinking more and more about the little goals I will make to make me a better more productive person, like cleaning up before bed and getting things put away so that each day there is a fresh start and I have more time to do those things I want to with my kids instead of stressing over having to have a clean place, because lately I am spinning in circles. Well speaking of spinning in circles I got some beds to make and laundry to put away!

me an author???

I'm an author?!

I really truly appreciate the comments to me about me being a great writer and how I should publish a book. I'm rather shocked, surprised and flattered, so much so I fell off my chair, flipped right back onto the ground, feet in the air!

Well it has been a life long dream of mine, and when I was younger I'd sit on the curbs waiting for my mom to come get me, and think of stories in my head. (What was I doing sitting on curbs waiting for my mom... that's a whole other story but childhood friends, one word "The Villages." I also received encouraging comments from my English teachers when I applied myself to my papers. Also while student teaching my ever so encouraging student teaching supervisor said to me "maybe you should think of a career in writing instead of teaching. " I was hurt by his comment but maybe I should have listen to him. However, I don't foresee myself penning to a point where one would actually purchase my stories, but maybe that is my problem I need to see it to believe it. Though the comments have sparked in me a couple of things.

1. (have you notice I am totally into lists lately...not sure why but anyway) I am going to join the story circle and go to writing classes and seminars and get started pursuing something for myself.

2. I am going to make more written Heritage Makers' books for my family, including pictures and scrapbooking of course but include more journaling and text for their enjoyment...well probably not enjoyment but helpful memory reminders.

3. As of now... if you know of anyone could be yourself, I am going to help, well will turn your blog into an 8x8 storybook. So consider me the Blog to Books lady! Contact me for more information or send your friends my way. Take a year of blogging and turn it into a book. So it won't be my writings which you seem to love, but your own...I could make editorial comments :) haha...but anyway just sparked a little business idea for me. So let me give your blog a shot!

4. If I get 403 people to comment on this blog saying I should give writing a try, I will sit down and start a book, so if you think I should pursue a life long dream, and you think its worth a shot, tell your friends and their friends and lets see if I can get some comments here telling me to go for it...if I don't get the comments...I still will probably try it but will feel like no one likes me :( and I might have to go eat some worms.

The letter you'd send to your friends: (see I am helping you help me):

Dear Friends,

My dear (friend, sister, neighbor, daughter, well not my dear anything but some chick on a blog) needs your help in pursuing a life long dream. Your task, if you choose is simple. Please visit her blog, and read her post, "I'm an author?!- Jan 6, 2008" and just post a comment basically saying "go for it." That is all you have to do, you don't even have to read the blog if you so choose. But please leave a comment. Heck you can even say "dude its not worth the effort" but please take a few minutes, visit the blog and make a comment. It doesn't cost you a thing, just a tiny bit of your internet time. And if you so desire, browse her blog and read some of her posts, she is rather entertaining in my humble opinion. Have a good one.

(here is where you'd sign your name)

5. With the writers strike maybe I have a chance to move to Hollywood and do some screen writing...JK...but not a bad idea probably a good time to get in.

Why do you write?

Kind of funny that this is the prompt for this morning because when I awoke at 4am the flood of why do I write came pouring through my mind. I write because it is the best way I have to communicate. I never have been very good at speaking, well I take that back, if I sit down and write out my speech or talk then i am a great speaker or teacher. On the other hand I don't do well speaking off the cuff, I need preparation. But for some reason when my hands and paper meet, the words typically form fairly easily.

When I was younger, I loved to chat on line with guys. I honestly had several swooning men wanting my hand in marriage, no I didn't profess my love to them, but I could be a lot more open and free and expressive in word on line than in person with the guys around me. Not sure why I have even thought of this chatting thing but a very good example of one thing one reason why I write.

Another reason why I love to write is because it truly helps me feel better. I have several journals filled with my words, nothing that I would really even let anyone else read, maybe my kids and grandkids but it has been a way for me to deal with anger, stress, joy and any other emotion I have felt that day...maybe that is way I have been so emotional the last 8 years...I haven't been keeping my personal journal like I used to.

I just ran into some friends when in California and the asked me if I still stayed up late journaling and I had to admit that I didn't, one reason why I started the blog after my trip. I had missed writing and realized that it is something that I need to do.

No I don't think one day my name will be plastered on the O Book Club, nor do I have goals to be a famous writer, I just want to write, and get to the point where my writings are actually ledgeable. (I really hate the red underlining spell checker thing cuz it makes me want to figure out how to spell a word like ledge able) Anyway, recently I posted a blog stating my dreams of being a writer. I do want to write and think that it is fun but honestly don't think that I am sellable. I just do it because I like it. I love the feeling of releasing my thoughts out into the open, allowing them to catch wind and take flight.

Time's up!

Shirley Jackson story starter

"When Emily Johnson came home one evening to her furnished room
and found three of her handkerchiefs missing from the dresser
drawer, she was sure who had taken them and what to do."

Her personal chef Rachel, had been left alone in the house for a week, while she had traveled with her husband, Jeff, to Palm Peach for medical meetings. Rachel was a dear friend and she knew that she had her eyes on those handkerchiefs. Why would she take them, why didn't she ask? Emily began to feel guilty that she was second guessing her dear friend and employee. For Rachel knew as well as Emily did that those three handkerchiefs had been passed down to the women in her family for five generations now.

Before Emily decided to call Rachel and confront her about the missing items, she decided to take a look around, making sure nothing else was missing or disturbed. As her eyes searched her massive master suite, she noticed that the bed was made but not the neat and tidy way she had normally so perfectly liked it. Approaching the bed, she heard a scream from the other room. "Who is screaming, Rachel is at her mother's house across town, isn't she?"

Before Emily could run to check in the other room, a blind fold was placed over her head and she was being dragged out of her room against her will. In no time she was being tied to someone else sitting in the office chair. As her blind fold was removed, it revealed Rachel in tears. Emily glanced around to discover her capture. "Michael? what are you doing?" It was Emily's twin brother who had recently returned from tour in Iraq.

Michael smiled at his sister and then looked over to Rachel. Through his wide grin they could see a few missing teeth and the remainder appeared to have not seen a toothbrush in the 18 months he was gone. His five o'clock shadow was approaching on a eight a.m shadow. The ladies were curious to what could possibly going through his head and wondering what on earth he was doing. Why would he come in and take those precious family handkerchiefs? What could he possibly want with them? What did he want with the ladies. Emily couldn't sit and wonder any more.

Angry and scared Emily's voice shook as she asked him again, "Michael, what are you doing?" Before he could answer they heard a loud noise downstairs.


As I am quickly rushing through the house, grabbing loose items hoping to find their home, I hear a strange noise coming from the pantry. Ignoring the sounds I continue to gather the socks, shorts and t-shirts from the floor throwing them into the laundry basket. Up the stairs with another doll I go. Then off to the bathroom to brush my teeth, use the toliet and finally slip into bed.

After I am ready for bed, I hear the noise again. So I go into the rooms, where my three little ones rest, re-tuck them in, give them kisses and quietly shut their doors. Again there is that noise in the pantry, "do we have mice?"

I can not resist the temptation to check on the audio disturbance. So I run down the stairs, turn a light on, and head to the kitchen through the pantry door. Low and behold standing in the pantry was a 500 lbs version of me, stuffing her face with the Snickers bars that I thought I had so carefully hidden on the top shelf. She stops for a minute, stairs at me with a chocolate stained face, then continues to finish the last candy, with a lick off of each finger stip. Standing still, I carefully look her up and down wondering how I am going to get out with out being eaten alive. Our eyes make contact and I can only imagine what is going on behind them. Visions of sugar plums??

Suddenly I remember the stash of Twinkies I have hidden under my nightstand. Her stomach begins to growl and I know it is only minutes before she finds no more snacks to eat and she will only find fruits and veggies that will not satisfy her. Putting a finger in the air I try to motion to her to slow down and I will be right back.

I quickly turn, go to run out the door, hitting the door jam, falling flat on my behind. As fast as I hit the floor I was back on my feet and out the little food closet. I run through the family room, trip over that little toy dinosaur I missed on the way up to bed. I catch myself before my face hits the fingerprinted smudged coffee table. I thought getting up the stairs to my stash was going to be easier than this. Note to self, make sure the house is totally clean before bed.

I get to the second floor, turn my bedroom light on, and hear a cry. A baby, I have to nurse the baby. But the cries and moans from downstairs start to out blast the baby in my room crying. Ok baby can wait.

Night stand, where is my night stand? Its pitch black I can't see a thing. "I'm HUNGRY!" As I fumble across the night stand to find that little button, I knock the half filled cup of water all over, "Crap!" Where is that little switch, should be easy to find. Bingo. Lights on, I open the drawer to only find my stash gone! "who ate my stash?" Can I make it to the gas station before there is nothing left in my house to eat? Oh wait I have one more spot to check. I run to my closet and find some left over halloween candy on the shelf.

I run down stairs, the me beast is standing in front of the fridge, with the open door monitor beeping. Surely she is disappointed at the items she has been staring at. I yell to her, "hey you...have one of these!" I throw to her a very stale, life saver sucker.

She says thanks and disappears into the night. I look around the kitchen, dishes in the sink, food left out on the counter, crumbs all over the floor and realize that's who has been making the messes in the middle of the night, the boggart in the pantry.

Freewrite- Pea

Potty humor comes easy when living with four small kids, and one large one. We're sitting at our dinner table tonight enjoying a last minute thrown together meal by me. Part of the dinner, the green part, includes sweet petite green peas, a personal favorite of Eric's. So much so, he very carefully shovels a few fork fulls onto each of his surrounding children's plates with out them noticing. Oh but I notice, shame on him. As we are finishing up this wonderful meal, consisting also of some open cans of fruit on the table, Eric asks if he can be excused from the table, I look at him a little in shock, one because he's asking me to be excused and two well he is asking to be excused. Before I can muddle out a reply Gregory says "not before I pee out of my eye." I look at him "What?"

Gregory carefully takes a pea and holds it to his eye and pops it to Eric. Well Eric can't be topped by a six year old with an inappropriate table manner, so he pops a pea in his mouth, and then starts snorting and blowing, and he "pees out a pea" from his nose, along with some other stuff, causing me to just want to get up from the table a puke.

I wish the story ends here but something about kids they kind of like to make true the saying "monkey see monkey do." So Gregory following his dad's lead, though taking a short cut, sticks a pea up his nose and then snorts it out. At this point I am totally bewildered can't think of anything to say or do.

Emily takes care of that for me. She grabs a little pea and sticks it into her tiny little nostril. She giggles and makes a little "heh" with her nose, mind you being only two she really hasn't mastered the art of nose blowing. You should have seen her little nose with the bulging little green ball clogging her narrow nostril. I give her encouraging blows from my nose, hoping she will try to blow it out her self. I know that I can not get it out by picking it because it will only lodge it further into her nasal cavity. Emily decides she's going to take her little finger and retrieve the foreign body. However, each attempt the green mass gets smaller and smaller, until we no longer see it. Great! We are gonna have to spend $100 at the ER to get it removed.

I decide to call my mother in law to thank her for her well raising of my husband, while Eric looks through the cupboards. As I explainto my mother in law the details of the evening, Eric pulls out a toothpick and gently extracts the pea. Yeah for us! Then Helga, my mother in law, tells me that Gregory asked her the other day if she taught his dad all the funny things he knows. She had to explain to him that many things he just learned on his own. I think sticking peas up his nose was one of those things he taught himself.

Though if you ask Eric it was really Gregory who taught Emily, or showed Emily how to stick the pea up her nose, because if you remember correctly Gregory literally stuck the pea in his nose, where Eric went a whole other route.

Moral of the story, one can't make their eye pee but one sure can make their nose pea.

Free Write- Sick

Not that I am complaining, actually I am. I have been sick, this year has been actually a really sick year for me, well not this year but last year, well you know what I mean. But when I was really sick this past summer, so sick that they kept me in the hospital for 8 days, I didn't get to really take time off from being a mom. You know, not that Eric didn't help out, but you just can't call in sick from being a mom, who do you call? A nursing baby still needs to be nursed, a two year old crying wants their mom to console them, a sick mom can still see messes around the house, and has the urge to clean it up. Because no matter how much I ask it doesn't always get done as quickly or as efficiently as I'd like, so I end up doing it.

We have had a sick week again at our house. I just am tired of being sick and having sick kids. They actually have been relatively healthy. The girls did have croup in December over the break which started the sickness in our home. Gregory went to the doctor yesterday and has strep. Which for me is a big concern because I had the septic strep and scarlet fever this past summer. I probably need to call my doctor to get checked. Last thing we can afford is me being sick. Heavens knows that.

Eric too went to the doctor yesterday and she told him that he shouldn't go back to work and he should go home and rest. So he does. So he gets to leave work, come home and rest. Why can't I just rest? I have been not feeling great since new years eve, probably the lack of sleep. Then he got sick and he said "I am sorry if you were feeling this bad last week." I reply, "yeah wouldn't it be nice if I could rest and get better." And he commented " well your always sick."

I am not always sick, I am tired a lot and don't feel much energy. But it made me think, you know maybe I wouldn't stay sick so long if I could actually rest for a bit. Do women ever feel better?? I am so tired and exhausted and this last week have felt pretty crummy. But no one tells me to just take it easy. How can I? Five people still need to eat dinner, one child needs to be nursed, the house some how recreates messes hourly.

I am just at my wits ends today, sorry to gripe and complain, but I am. My house is in utter caos and I can't get it back into a realm of normalcy. (J. W. s are at the door, should I go answer the door with my Book of Mormon. I think Bethany wants to answer it and I am telling her not to. I bet they love hearing that outside.) Anyway, I just need my world to come together and not be scattered across the living room, and splattered all over the kitchen.

Well I better stop my griping and get to fixing my life. I just want to take a nap!


What a day for this post, I sometimes wonder how truly you are inspired Cherish. Not that what happened today was destined to happen, but it some how seemed the Heavens alingned themselves and out poured books.

I love books and have dreams of one day having a house with a huge library just filled with books all the books I have read, and want to read and think look pretty. Then I am rudely awakened by a screaming child while being splashed on the face with freezing cold water. Realizing that books pile up too much like clutter, requiring too much dusting. But at the same time I love seeing books on shelves and reading titles.

Titles amaze me. I think that is the key to a good book and a way to catch a reader. As I personally write I like to come up with a good title. Like right now I am working on a book called "Upon the Walls We Once Were Hung." Do you know what that is about? Anyway titles are key and I love seeing the words staring at me from off the shelf.

But shelf space is limited and so is room space, and there fore I don't have a library filled with books. As a matter of fact yesterday I packed up boxes with several books, took them to Half Price Books and sold them. Turning around spending the same amount of money in purchasing less books.

Gregory my little first grader, loves to read now and he loves the Fly Guy books series, a great little reader for the young ones. Buzz has a pet Fly, named Fly Guy. Who would have thought to write a book about a pet fly, but anyway rather clever and cute.

As far as I go, I love murder mystery books. Murder fascinates me well not actually murder but the solving of crimes and the who done it type of thing. In junior high I read all of Christopher Pikes books, a quick mystery series. Who can forget the Nancy Drew series, loved those in my youth. Think I might go back and pick some up, should go pick some of those up and read them to my kids. I bought a Sue Grafton book, I love her books. C is for Corpse is the one I purchased. Most of her books I have read. She is a hoot, a 2ce divorced retired cop now private investigator. She has quite a dry sense of humor. Anyway another quick read. I also love the classic young adult books.

I guess mostly because they are clean and then because they are quick reads. When reading I don't like to have to think about what I am reading, I read to escape and enjoy. Things about war or polotics or long drawn out biographies just don't do it for me. If I am bored after the first ten pages, I will not finish a book.

Time is short in these parts of the woods, so I have decided to grab a book and start reading again. We will see how I do because so far, I fell asleep in bed too soon to read last night.


"It is 102 outside, I really don't want to drag all 4 kids into the car, over to the church for the ward picnic, its just too hot to be outside. My jello salad will never hold up to that type of heat." Corrine complained to her husband, as she was fighting Emily to get her sandals on.

"Honey Br. Alger went to a lot of trouble to plan this activity and we need to support him." Reassured her ever so right husband. "But why do we have to support everyone in all their activities", she murmured to herself, as she looked around her air conditioned home thinking about all she could be doing inside today. Seems like other activities always take precedence to the things that need to be done at home.

Being the supportive wife and ward member, Corrine yells to her kids to get in the car. " help me if you don't get in there, we are not going to go!" This is more of an ultimatum for herself than the children. The kids make a mad dash to the car. "Buckle up. I didn't hear a click." Once everyone is in their seats, did it really take 10 minutes? Corrine remembers she forgot her raspberry pretzel jello dish. As she quickly apologizes to her already frustrated husband because they are already going to be a minute early and not ten, she runs inside, pulls her 9x13 out of the fridge, and heads for the door. But before she walks out the front door she notices a few more toys on the ground so she quickly picks them up, puts them away, and then out the door. "Crap." She turns around, grabs the salad off the coffee table. With sweat dripping down her head, she climbs in the car and looks to her husband, "ready."

Many people are gathered around the tables, some families are getting out of their cars, and heading to the picnic tables as they finally arrive. When what does Corrine see? Sister P. already seated on the picnic benches. Set before her, her famous deviled eggs. The realization of how the family is going to end up in the ER after this potluck quickly becomes a fact because heavens knows how long those eggs have been sitting out in the heat, let alone how many days in advance she made them. And everyone knows mayo, eggs (the main indgredient in mayo) do not hold up well to non refrigeration. "Kids, eating the eggs ok?" Corrine says as she pushes Timmy in the stroller, holding Emily's hand, well dragging her by her wrist is more like it, crossing the parking lot.

"Hello Sister Simonsen" greets Sister P., "I made my famous deviled eggs. You and your family will have to have some." What is one to say, what is one to do. "Hopefully there will be some left when we go through the line." Corrine lies through her teeth, though kind of hoping there are some left, kind of a sick twist of fate.

The prayer is said, and Corrine is pretty assured that people, while other's had their eyes shut during the prayer, standing reverently, slowly started for the line. Because as soon as the words amen were uttered, Corrine opened her eyes to see a mile long line for the food. 'Well at least they will all get food poisoning. But there is no way I am going to end up with some firm jello salad.' Corrine thought as she watched the hoards of starving people standing in line, looking in front of them and behind them thinking there is not going to be enough food.

By the time Corrine gets in line for sure there will be no more mayo filled eggs left for her to get food poisoning from, though she really does love a good deviled egg. With the sweltering heat, even the salads, not just green but tuna and potato other mayo filled treats, are sweating. Heat, crowds and hunger are not a good match for Corrine. At this point, after standing in line, Timmy screaming, Gregory running around with his friends, Bethany holding on to her mom's leg from fear of someone talking to her, and Emily reaching up to Corrine wanting to be held, Corrine is ready to just leave. But its finally her turn. She is hungry and even over heated eggs, sound appealing, and with the empty dishes that lay before her, there aren't many choices. 'Can't people just take a little and not fill their plates so full? No one here is starving. And next time how about bringing more than six cookies as your dish to share.' Corrine stops her thoughts and just begins to dish her plates.

The life altering decision unfurls, does she eat the eggs and risk the chance of ending up in the hospital or dead for that matter, or forgo one of her favorite treats knowing its for the better? What would you do? After all the food has been blessed right?

"i know i shouldn'y have lent him the money.."

"I knew it was a mistake to let my brother take the money." Sheila said to herself as she grabbed her keys and headed out the door to pick her brother up at the train station. Dan has always been bad with managing his money. When he was younger he'd quickly spend his allowance and then go to her with puppy dog eyes asking for some money so he could go see the latest flick with his friends. Sheila being more a saver than a spender, certainly had enough stashed to share, so she did.

Last month while Dan was down on his luck he came over once again to seek relief from his sister Sheila to help him out "this last time, I promise." His promises were as frequently followed through as her promises to herself to take those last 20 lbs off. She succumbed to his pleadings and gave him the 800 for his rent. What a mistake that was, because she is now picking him up at the station because he used the money for other things, leaving him evicted.

Being the nice sister she is, Dan is coming to live with them "just for a little while so I can get back on my feet." Oh how long will be a little while?

"Hi Dan." Sheila greeted her unshaven, slovenly dressed brother, "how are you doing."

"Life has been better," he replied. As she quickly thought to her self "when was that? when you lived with Mom and Dad and you didn't have to pay rent or work?" She rapidly stopped her thoughts as she turned and gave him a hug.

Sheila was unsure how she was going to have her brother stay with her, her six kids, husband and only 3 bedrooms. They will manage. They always do. The two of them walked in silence to the car. Dan dragging all is belongings behind him in a duffel bag on wheels.

As they got settled in the car and drove out of the parking lot, they began to talk, only stopping to pay the lady in the booth.

"Dan what are your plans? I have a friend that works over at the grocery store and know they are hiring night stockers. I can set up a time for you to meet with him."

"I think right now what I need is some time to think and regroup. I sure have made a mess of my life and don't know which way to go. I am scared Sheila. I really am scared." His eyes welded up with tears, his bottom lip puckered as if he was still four.

It broke her heart to see her brother this way. But she wasn't going to let him sucker her into helping him again. Whats that saying give a man a fish he will eat for a day, give him a pole and he can eat for life...something like that. Today is the day she is handing him the pole. He is going to learn to fish for his own successes and not depend on others to do it. But where to begin.

Dream Backyard

As we approached the white stone home we were impressed by its lush green grass, the tall trees that lined the property. Walking up the stone path to the front porch we were sided by beautiful flowering plants. The covered front porch, had two rocking chairs and several plants. We opened the red front door, to see directly to the glistening blue in the backyard. The house was wonderful, everything we dreamed of, hardwood floors, rounded corners, granite counters, stainless steel appliances. But it was outside that caught our eyes.

We opened the double french doors leading to the massive stained concrete covered patio. There were two gorgeous bamboo sealing fans and benches surrounding the patio. Off to the right was an outdoor kitchen of sorts, with a huge grill and bbq, with a sink and a small drink fridge. The stainless steel counter rested upon the most gorgeous cherry stained cabinets. When we looked out over the BBQ we saw the beautiful lush lawn, surrounded by every possible fruit tree, bearing fruits like treats on Halloween.

Off to the left of the patio was an outdoor fire place, the chimney lined with river rock.Just past that was a pristine U shaped pool, an area to do laps, to dive and to stand and play in. I just can't wait to take my first dive into the cool refreshing water. Straight off the porch, past the lawn was a small Koi pond with a little bridge going to a smaller patio made of large flag stones, filled in between with moss. Covering the area was a huge Oak tree, providing shade for the two chase chairs, beckoning me to come and sit and read for hours as I sip lemonade.

The best thing of all was the out door track that went from one end of the fence to the other, weaving through the trees and such. I can't wait to get the kids out there riding their bikes, and me waking up to do my morning runs.


I was taking a shower, enjoying the warm water on this cold morning, when Bethany's head pops in. I start chatting with her as I am rinsing shampoo out of my hair. Then she asks "Mom why do your boobs hang down?" (the thoughts come flooding, 4 kids, 4 nursed babies, weight gain, weight loss, weight gain...age...genetics, gravity you name it. All of which was beyond a 5 year olds understanding)

"Do you like them to hang down like that (she points with her little pointer fingers to the ground.)?" "Um, no not really." I tell her. Though I am not sure I want her to think big saggy boobs are not beautiful.

"Do you like them better when they are like this (taking her little fingers and pointing them up and out at the top of her chest.)? I think I do."

What can a mother say? The only thing I could, "I'd love for them to point up like that, that is why I wear a bra. " I was going to go on about how one day when we have lots of money and I fit back in a size 6 jean, I will pay someone to make them like that but didn't figure it was the time or place, plus she was on to the subject of going to the library.

Is it vane of me to want perky pretty little B cup boobs? I really look forward to the day to have them look nice. But I may have to wait until I am resurrected. We shall see. But I think we all have a little vanity in us, the desire to look good and have others notice. Heavens knows I don't want people thinking I got boobs that hang down "like this."

Kids can't be vane around them.

The kids on room...

The kids in room 207 were misbehaving again."

I am so brain fried right now with all the different meds I am taking I feel lacking in the field of creative writing. Though Miss Nelson is missing is one of my all time favorite children's books. I loved having it read to me over and over again.

I often dreamed of being in that class. I don't know why I'd want that mean teacher, can't think of her name, again a drug induced brain fart. But I wondered what would happen if one of my teachers did that and then came back? How grateful I'd be to have them back.

It also reminds me of my kids when I was babysitting a neighbor girl. The little girl though a dear friends daughter, was a little snot, and I say that in the kindest way. She brought out a side of my daughter that I didn't like, a little gang warfare. They would tell me I am mean and that they didn't like me, thank heavens since I have stopped watching her Bethany hasn't said that to me. Anyway one day I just broke down in tears, yes two 4 year olds made me cry, and told them they didn't realize how lucky they were to have me watching them, and they don't know mean.

Mean is not not letting them eat another piece of candy. Mean is not not letting you buy what you want at the store. Mean is not requiring you to eat fruits and vegetables. After telling them this I told them if they didn't like me and thought I was so mean, the girl I babysat could go back to day care and my daughter could go back to preschool. They quickly apologized and said that they do like me.

My daughter actually cried for about an hour over the thought of leaving me and going to preschool. So maybe I taught them the same lesson as did Miss Nelson. Though the little girl I tended did go back to daycare, and the evil side of me hopes she is miserable there and realizes how nice I truly am.


My life is spinning out of control, I see my self standing in the eye of the storm and watching everything fly around me. I don't know how to stop it. In the funnel goes doing laundry, cleaning, feeding kids, watching what I eat, finding time to exercise, reading my scriptures, sayin my prayers, teaching my kids, playing with my kids, hanging out with my husband, cleaning the kitchen, vacuuming, keeping four kids and a husband happy, finding time to make me happy, serving others, doing my church calling, calming fighting kids, yelling a lot less, and standing all the while in the middle of the storm trying to stay calm and stress free to reduce the strain on my over enlarged heart. What is one to do? I think I need to start taking up yoga and hire a maid.

And in my storm I stand all alone. Do you ever feel so lonely? So friendless? I do feel very lonely lately. I have many good acquaintances but when it comes down to friends I just feel lacking. Maybe part of it is due to the fact I read a friend's blog this week and she has been sick and she had all kinds of people stop by take her kids for a bit, or call to see how she is doing. I have been sick all week, and had one friend call to "see how we were doing", but in the end wanted to know if my son had gone to school so I could pick up her son. I appreciated the call but wonder if I would have gotten it had she not needed a ride for her son. I just would love someone to call me just to see how I am doing. And I take something back I had two friends call just to see how I was doing. I know I have friends, I just am feeling really lonely and feeling like venting....

I am not saying I am a great friend as of late either. Since having Tman I have been really out of commission, and I try to be a friend, but not sure I have been a good one at that.
I just hate that right now my body is falling a part literally, its hard enough to have a baby but throw in hospitalizations, allergic reactions, heart problems, thyroid problems, and whatever else has been going on with my body, getting the flu this week, it adds up to a year of me not being able to do much. Not that I am trying to excuse myself.

I wish I could do more for others, I want to step outside the eye of my storm and help others, because I know we all feel like we are inside tornadoes, don't we? I at least like to think we all do. I know many times we judge other's perfect lives to our imperfect ones. We all have challenges and trials, and huge storms to go through in this life, we can just all help and make each others a little easier can't we?

And it has to start with me, enough of my pity party!

Pres. Hinkley 1

I love Pres. Hinkley he has to be one of the most wonderful men I know that I don't know. Every time I watched him speak, his love for the gospel, the people and life always shined through his eyes. He radiated love and a huge spirit, and mixed it all with a wonderful sense of humor. I admired that in him. The fact that here he is a huge spiritual giant, a leader of God's church, and he still laughed, joked (never mocking or making fun of) but laughed at life! He knew how life is precious, as well as are our children. He loved his wife, no he adored her. He just was an amazing man. I will miss seeing him at conference.

For him I have decided today to be a better mother, is too short to not try to make each day a little better.

Pres. Hinkley

In no way am I making light of the passing of our dear Prophet, but hearing about his passing seemed to come with a little bit of his humor.

You all know how much I love my sleep, and how rare it is to come by these days. Well last night the kids were all asleep IN THEIR OWN BEDS before 8. Yeah for us!! I watched the final half of Extreme Home Make Over, always with tears of course. I was going to try to stay awake to watch the recorded Hallmark movie The Russell Girl...(did this morning don't think I have many tears left) but decided I should just join my group in the art of sleeping, that they seemed to have mastered (well last night for a brief moment anyway).

You know when you hit that point where you just fall into a deep sleep? Well I got there and was awoken by the last ring before the answering machine went off. I hear my brother in law explain that Pres. Hinkley has passed away. I wasn't saddened, I actually had a calm warm feeling over come me, and the thought "he is finally with his love." Though I can't mention his death today with out welling up tears, thought I had run out.

So I heard the news from Nelsen, via answering machine. My mind began wandering over all his teachings, how he just always encouraged us to be better! How his love for the Savior and all shined through his eyes. And how he could give a spiritual lecture and still make you laugh. I began to doze off again, when the phone began to yell! The ringer was so loud. (I have a phone with 50 different rings so I went through and changed everyone's number to a different ringer not that I remember who has what ringer) Anyway Eric jumps out of bed, grabs the phone. I hear him responding quietly. It was his dad. He hangs up and I say "so did he call to tell us President Hinkley passed away?" Eric looked at me like I was a mind reader. But before we could finish that conversation the phone was beeping again. This time it was my mom to let us know. We told her thanks and curled back into bed.

Finally we can sleep, no one else should be calling us. Well once again 30 minutes later, we are both awoken by the phone. This time it is a call from church. Eric speaks to her briefly and hangs up the phone. I asked who it was, he told me. I was surprised she called us. But she called to ask me if she thought it would be appropriate to call other ladies from the church to let them know but she realized when she heard Eric's tired voice that maybe in the morning would be a better time. Eric explained that there are some things that are important but not urgent. This was one of those things that was important to know but not an urgency. She thanked him and hung up the phone. We turned off the ringer and went to sleep.

Timmy slept until 4 am. After I fed him and couldn't go back to sleep, I looked at Eric and said "who should we call to let them know Pres. Hinkley passed away." He just laughed.


Scelerophibia- Fear of bad men, burglars.

When I first read the prompt, my initial thoughts were that I hate writing about fears, because my biggest fear is to share my fears leaving open the ever possible universe to consume them and use them against me. I re-read the prompt and realized it didn't say share your biggest fear but to go to the list and find a phobia from the list and write about it.

So I went to the website, and not knowing where to start I just said, my last name starts with an s, lets go there. And the very first fear that popped at me is Scelerophibia, the fear of bad men. I didn't even know that there was a name for such a fear, and that what I thought was rational thinking always on my part was an actual phobia!

I use this terrible fear, to instill fear in my children so they won't go play in the front yard alone, or run away from me at the store, or walk off at the park. You may have a hard time believing that a loving mother would instill fear in her sweet children, but I admit it I do.

Emily, 2.5, will look at me as we are walking out front and say "bad guy get me." Yes she is afraid that a bad guy is going to get her. In all reality I do fear that some strange terrible man will walk by and snatch up my children. I fear so much this that when I am at the store, I walk around with a paranoid eye. It took me a long time (until last year) to take my kids to parks. I think I watched the Adam Walsh show one to many times as a child.

When I go to the store I make my six year old sit in the cart because I am afraid he will wonder off or some bad guy will take him.

Anyway I think fears are silly, but we all have them. The sad thing is I truly don't think fear is good and that it comes from up above....anyway, I still fear bad guys.


I am actually at a loss of what to type or say this day. Advise seems to come freely and I find myself often offended by the advise I receive. I guess my biggest complaint is I feel like I am being criticized in all that I do when I receive advise. As if I don't already know what I should be doing or what is best for my children. If I don't ask for your advise please don't give it, is how I really feel.

For example when I had my second daughter, I mentioned to my mom that she was in the 90% for weight and 25% for height. My family has a HUGE obsession with weight and a major denial over the fact that we all have eating disorders. Well my grandmother called me with all kinds of advice of how to get my six month old to not be so fat, one of which was to stop breastfeeding her so much and to give her just bottles of water. I just smiled and said "thanks." But hello if I just gave my baby water she wouldn't make it.

Or how about recently going to the doctor and finding the heart murmur and the enlarged heart and him telling me to take a little weight off. Great advise, but maybe some help?!

I find myself giving advice to people or suggesting things, I think just because it is so much easier to see how another could improve their life much more so than looking inward and seeing what you can do to improve your own.

Oh well I just am at a loss and glad my time is up, because I am just not sure of what I am saying.


While in 7th period science class, Greg and Steve thought it would be funny to add a little more than the recommended teaspoon to their experiment. Ms. Smith didn't think the high flying fizz, splattering the ceilings was very funny at all. Thus earning, Greg and Steve 30 minutes after school detention.

When detention was over, they both high tailed it to track practice, which after changing their clothes they were almost 45 minutes late, something Coach Ford highly frowned upon.

"Boys, how dare you even think its ok to show up this late to track. You either have to run 100 laps or you are off the team." Being that it was their junior year, and both new that college scholarships rested upon their successful completion of track, they did as the coach had asked. They ran. And they ran those 25 miles knowing that they'd be missing the bus home. But they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

As the boys ran they watched the cheerleaders in the middle of the field finishing up cheer practice. Greg noticed Sue the most, with her blond shoulder length hair bouncing around, leading her cheer squad. She sure is cute he thought. As he continued to run he watched the senior bomb shell run into the locker rooms to get ready to go home.

The sun began to go down on this cool Californian winter evening. With only a few more laps to go Greg was all alone. Steve dropped out about half way, he didn't feel it was worth it. When he finished his last lap his feet were throbbing, and he knew that in the morning he'd be more than sore. He walked into the locker room, changed his clothes, said goodnight to his coach in the office, and headed to the pay phone in the school court yard.

He put his only dime in the phone and listened to the endless ringing at home. His single mom was still working, but where were his brothers? Greg stopped his tears as he realized he was going to have to walk the 5 miles home. He decided it'd be best to trade out his penny loafers for his running shoes. He walked back to the locker rooms to find that the coach had left and locked things up. So with his penny loafers on, his back pack flung over his shoulder, he hit the road.

As he was walking he held out his thumb in hopes that someone would come and drive him the rest of the way home. He didn't think his legs could carry him much farther.

Headlights kept passing him by. A small truck passed him, slowed down made a u-turn and pulled up behind him. He heard a young girl's voice say "Greg you need a ride?" It was Ginny his best friend Drew's older sister, and her best friend Sue, the cheerleader. He threw his backpack in the bed of the truck and hopped in. He graciously thanked them for saving his life.

As he explained to them the fun he had that day, Sue kept staring at him, noticing that he had so many freckles on his handsome face. She never knew that toe head had so many freckles. As he talked she'd make eye contact and then shyly look away. They pulled up to Greg's house and said good night.

Greg ran inside, amazingly considering how weak and tired his legs were, and the girls drove off. Greg was amazed at how beautiful Sue was and how nice she seemed to be.

As Ginny drove Sue home, Sue inquired of Greg and if he was dating anyone. Sue's boyfriend at the time was a freshman at San Jose State. Sue hinted to Ginny to have that handsome freckled face boy ask her out. As they pulled up to Sue's house, she thanked Ginny for the ride home and told her to have Drew call Greg and encourage him to ask her out.

Greg was half asleep on the couch when the phone rang. It was Drew.

"Hey what's up?" After a few moments of idle chit chat, as much as teen boys do, Drew encouraged Greg to ask the ever more popular, older cheerleader out. Greg being a fierce competitor took the challenge and called her up, what would it hurt.

And they lived happily ever after! Well you know they dated, Greg joined the LDS church, they went to college, Greg served a mission, then they got married, and this spring they will celebrate their 40th anniversary. This young hitch hiker and this cheerleader are my parents and this is their mostly true first encounter!

First Day

The first day Mom tried to convince the kids that there was going to be no breakfast failed miserably. She just couldn't get her young kids to understand that sleeping in is more important than having the first morning meal.

She actually doesn't believe that one should skip breakfast, but the idea of having to make breakfast time in and time out, gets rather redundant and just doesn't feel like doing it.

The young pleadings are getting louder, and what is for breakfast is at a high screech. So I must finish this write and feed my little hungry children. Wish they came with a self feeding button that didn't make messes while in the process of self feeding.