Continuing Education

So I guess since I managed to get my masters in plumbing I am now moving on to a bachelors in mechanics along with household electrics. By the end of this I should be a very well rounded, educated individual.

Notorious, massive west Texas storms blew through in the wake of the oncoming cold front. In only minutes our tiny town went from bone dry to rivers with currents strong enough to transport tricycles down driveway. Bolts of lightening making contact with ground sent everyone into motion as we began unplugging the house. Apparently we didn't quite do it all in time, as we would later figure out after 50,000 other things went wrong within only a matter of mere hours. Anyway, as any person does that only sees rain twice a year I promptly loaded everyone up in our 15 passenger van and took off down streets so filled with water they could quickly be classified as small lakes. With laughing, squealing children we drove through every deep puddle we could find as the contest was on to see how exactly muddy we could get our old faithful van. Whether this scenario had any effect on what would later transpire I have no clue and really don't want to find out...but we did manage to have a ton of fun while splashing through flat streets entirely underwater....for the most part. Since we were on our way to town anyway the timing worked out well, so after our mudsliding fun we eventually hit the real road to wind our way into town. And being in an area of Texas that is entirely prone to flashflooding the drive to town was just as awesome as the mudsliding fun we had done prior to taking off to run our errands. Sick husband was on shift so once again it was just the children and myself along with Mother following behind in her own truck. Errands eventually run we decided to celebrate life in general and eat out...with Rosa's being decided upon. We ate in relative peace....as only one can do with 8 excited children in tow and everyone and their dog stopping to talk and make conversation.....along with all of the employees stopping to come out and gawk. And though I do make fun of that aspect of it all I am forever grateful that we live in a part of the world that is receptive to our procreating ways and instead of the disdain that is so common in larger areas we are usually welcomed with open arms everywhere we go here. With lunch over we said our goodbyes with Mother so that we could attempt to part ways...which didn't really work out exactly like that by the end of it. Once more in our life old faithful didn't prove to be so faithful...and we sat staring blankly at our predicament. Children all car seated in I was feeling up for the task at hand. I bailed out and quickly went to work hooking jumper cables up after flagging a departing Mother back down and telling her to return to me. Feeling like quite the professional jumper starterer I had hoods up and everything connected in no time with Grayson by my side helping along the way. Red to red and black to black is entirely helpful when there's actually color on the batteries but, as it was, there appeared to be no color anywhere in sight so it became a guessing game. But when neither vehicle exploded I assumed I had guessed accurately. After sitting for a good 15 minutes while it "charged" I finally grew impatient and sent a text to sick and busy medic husband who had no knowledge of our current circumstance. "When jumpin off the van just how exactly long does it have to stay connected to the other car???" Phone rings less than 2 seconds later with exasperated husband asking why exactly we were jumping off the van. I stated the obvious..."Cause it won't start." After another half hour or so of going back and forth between irritated husband unable to come to our rescue and Mother's mechanically knowledgeable husband I was quite sure I had a beginner's degree in what takes place under the hood of any given vehicle...especially that of a diesel. Apparently vehicles have colanders or cellanoids or something to that effect that directly affect starters and have nothing to do with battery power and whether your vehicle is fully charged or not. And seeing as how our mammoth vehicle has to have TWO batteries to fire it off apparently there is one battery on top and another buried deep within the inner chambers of the beast...as in...if it was dead I could never in my lifetime get to it without crawling up under the van, finding the buried 2nd one, possibly hooking it up and then trying to see if that might be our problem. Umm....so that wasn't going to happen anytime in the near future that I could foresee so that option was out. After some 45 minutes of all of this and children growing rowdy and needing to pee after the 30,000 free cokes I had let them drink while eating lunch I was finally beginning to realize that this was not really a battery issue. Somewhere in the midst of all of this Gavin had been saying for minutes on end that he needed to pee. As life goes, 2 year old bladders only hold out for so long before they give....and it gave. With van charging, truck running, and trying to talk on the phone and relay info I then realized there was now a 2 year old who needed a completely new set of clothes...and a dry carseat to sit in. So it was that I began to strip him in the 30 below temps out in the Rosa's parking lot. Since our van is our home on wheels we have pretty much everything in it one could ever need. In fact, we pretty much have a mini closet and kitchen contained within. Instructions were given to fetch some new clothes from the clothes container and to play fruit basket turnover with carseats. Biggest 5 year old booted out of his, smaller 5 yr old moved over, 3 year old bumped up to smaller 5 year old's seat and now 2 year old in 3 year old's seat. Back to van issues...and instructions given to older ones to unload everybody and take them on a bathroom trip back within Rosa's...so we didn't have anymore urinary issues to deal with.

So it was that we narrowed it down to a colander or cellanoid or something issue. Somehow that little thing is important enough to be needed to engage the brand new starter we...well, not really we, more like van fixing husband....just installed in it. Once we all finally agreed the van would be going nowhere anytime in the near future and I was quite sure I had every part name of a 15 passenger van memorized we finally gave up. Unloaded old not-so-faithful of everything valuable, somehow managing to cram it all in a Dodge quad cab along with 8 children and 2 adults we came up with plan b. Dodge every cop on the way home and head that direction. With everyone in fits of laughter over the turn our day had taken poor sick husband was not quite feeling the humor in the deal and was, pretty actually, void of any humor at all.

No sooner had we pulled out onto the road than Mr Policeyman came turning our way. We quickly drop kicked about 15 kids into the floorboard of the truck and turned into the nearest parking lot we could find. Cause it's not exactly like you can call a taxi to take home in nowhere Texas. And we couldn't exactly leave 4 kids waiting while we legally toted 4 of them the 32 miles home and then returned to the other waiting 4 to legally transport them home. So it was that we played dodge ball with the cop in the parking lot and wove in and out of vehicles....as he seemed to have a love of following us. Eventually he turned into his choice of a space to grab what must've been lunch for him and we found our way back out to the road to continue to the station to drop come important crap off and then continue home.

We eventually arrived home. Doors were opened and little sardine children began to humorously fall out of every opening. Once home it took only a half hour to discover that in turning everything off for the storm we had not gotten to the oven in time and, for the 3rd time in 3 1/2 years, our oven has been fried by lightening. One can just imagine my sadness over this loss. But it's a 350.00 fix. We know this price well. In fact..so well, that we found it cheaper to go buy a dented store model rather than having our last one fixed yet again. As the night wore on we also found that our bathroom heater had blown up along with my toothbrush. Yep...my electric toothbrush. Who in the crap thinks to unplug a toothbrush??? Obviously...not me. So, I tried to fix the bathroom heater and take the computer board out of the oven to fix it all but....needless to say...those efforts didn't go so well either and it didn't take long to put them all right back together and just leave it all.


With no oven the game began to figure out how many things I could exactly microwave to concoct a decent meal and exactly how many canned good rejects one can actually make 8 kids eat. Yams? check. Green beans? check. Pineapple? check. Diced tomatoes with green chiles? check. Every nasty can of soup one bought 5 years ago that one could not bear to throw away cause someday you might need it? check. Black beans? check. So, you get the idea. I microwaved about 30 cans of odd and mismatched things and actually required the children to eat them. I just drowned the reject soup in crackers so they couldn't really taste it, mixed apples with the pineapples, forced them to eat the green beans to get full, and topped the yams with brown sugar. By the end of it I think they were all pretty sufficiently full. Anyone who wasn't was told they had to wait til breakfast for more food. In the meantime Mother came to discover that though the oven does not work the stove still does. Sooooo...I could've just scrambled eggs. Lovely. And then bedtime blissfully came.

To end this long winded post...the van sits in the Rosa's parking lot and probably will til Sunday since hard working husband has 2 trucks to do today, has a sales call to make and then is back on shift tomorrow. So..here I am stuck at home with a wind chill outside of merely 19, ice covering the ground, snow falling outside and so cold that I find it hard to get motivated to do much of anything at all. There's not really much of anything to do and nowhere we really can go. But Sunday we get to tow the van behind the truck 32 miles home so that should be enough entertainment to make up for the lack of it today.

Some Days are Just Hard...even still

Heart hesitates to pen emotion. Stutter of mental ramblings as I try to take pessimistic thoughts captive. Day fades and I find myself here...longing to rid myself through words of these feelings. More tears fall and busy self is forced to slow and face the inner heart...reality of life...where I am. Days are good, show blessing after blessing, promise after promise..but there are days when my hoping heart faces reality of unknown....the road that lies ahead, what my own selfish, mortal heart had planned, dreams that may not come to pass, a part of life cut too short. Days pass, months pass and this body of mine fails to cooperate. Hormones wreak havoc on emotions. Most days are blissfully routine....stability, joy and humor weaving my days into a blanket of normal. Utter delight in my children, hopelessly in love with my husband, clinging to his sweet companionship, his humor, friendship between us, mutual adoration of each other, lover of me that he is in every way. How he continues to tolerate unexplained tears, loves me through needless self absorbed thoughts of pity, emotions that seem to have forgotten what stable is.

Inner self digs deep hesitating to expose raw thoughts, feelings, contemplations. Blunt reality, onslaught of questions. Have I become addicted to having children? When in life did it become a competition...or is it a competition to this heart of mine? The joy they are to me....is it born out of absolutely loving my life or just an addiction to always having more than I already do? Or is it just the addiction to always needing something new to look forward to, the excitement, the adrenaline dump and endorphin rush of always having something just a little farther beyond that it is not quite here yet...something always in the making? How can something so wonderful and something so amazing in my life be considered greed or addiction...always the need to have more ? I look at them play, study, go about their day...hear their laughter....and still more tears fall. My heart longs for what is not here...grieved over what may be the end. Another month comes and another month goes and yet body remains empty...reasons unknown to me as to why God would chose this to be the end. Fighting off insane feelings of failure...lies that wage war with my soul....mind that never rests....wondering if I had done a better job with the eight entrusted to us if He would entrust more to us....wondering why He would end it now. Emotional, hormonal psychopathic ramblings....so much I already recognize within myself.

I don't mind this being the end. I really could come to accept it and be ok with life from this point forward if this is how it's supposed to be. It's the month to month hope of what may be, could be...continually deferred..never coming to fruition. It's hope that makes the heart sick. So I lay in a crumpled heap of self absorbed pity, tears falling....my thoughts and emotions confounding the reasoning of the world, the mind of my husband. I try to explain that I just want to know if it's the end so I can move on. I can come to accept this if it is the end. I really can. I just want to know. But one of the hardest lessons in life of giving over control to the Lord is letting go. I was not promised 12 children....I was not promised the eight we have....or even 1 of them. They are gifts to me...to us. How can I have taken them for such granted...assuming we would always be blessed with more? Mind turns to taking the easy way out. It'd be so much easier to end it now....on my own terms...so that I know this is the end. Husband "fixed". The end. Move on. That this month after month hope would fade and I would know we can move on from this stage of our life to the next. Somehow seeming to put a period to the end of a 12 year sentence. This human heart of mine needing closure...something that this heart of mine can hold onto so that I can move past this point of day after day hope.

So it is that I lay it all down. I will move on and set out to conquer the world ...reaching to accomplish goals long set by the wayside as we have welcomed new babies so many consecutive years in a row. I will run...my heart and body set free to embrace what has not yet been attained. We will camp..something so very hard to do with babies in tow. I will buy 20 pair of skinny jeans cause I can now actually wear them. I will finally go have my tattoo done...something not so entirely possible when pregnant....armband of wedding ring...Hebrew words inscripted "My beloved is mine and I am his." We will throw ourselves into pursuing international adoption. I will skydive and hike mountains. I will resume midwifery.

I will move on. If another baby comes we will be blessed but if it does not there is a world beyond waiting to be seen, explored, discovered by the 8 children we do have. When we gave over the area of our family size to the Lord we knew that He does indeed both open AND close the womb. Controlling and assuming heart of mine assumed He opened it more than He closed it. It is a bigger walk of trust and faith than I ever had imagined. To have given it over completely and had to come to the realization that we may have 14 children as he continually opened it year after year after year and then to be at this polar opposite of realizing that we gave Him control to close it also and there suddenly may be no more. I find it entirely interesting....despite all of the tears...to know this side of God controlling family size. How truly opposite it is from anything everybody has always said about this issue. No one ever talks about this side of it. It is always coping with the astronomical amount that one is usually given in the deal. It is a walk of utter trust and faith in all regards....both sides of it...every aspect of it all. To know and accept that He loves me unconditionally and that it is not anything I have done to end these years of bearing children. It is not because I have failed as a parent. It is not because I did not protect one that we have been given. It is not because she was beaten. It is not because she had a knife held to her. It is not because she was raped. It is not because I have not managed well the ones we have been given. It is not because I lose my patience with them. It is not because I hate cooking. It is not because I fall so entirely short of being everything I want to be as a wife and mother. It is not anything I have done. It is because there is a greater, bigger plan for our lives than I can see with my own mortal eyes at this point. It is because he loves me more than anything I can ever really grasp. It is because He sees my heart and how I long to be the one He can use above all else...when everyone else is thinned out it is because I want to be that one still left standing there...willing to go to the ends of the earth...literally and figuratively.....to serve Him. It is because I want my life to be the vessel He can pour through so that I reflect Him as the moon reflects the sun, as still placid lakes reflect their surroundings...mirroring the image.


"These are the children God has given me. Surely I have been blessed." And I embrace that...come to cling to it.

So it is that I am here and I come to accept where we are...that if this is the end I can move on and be blessed. If this is not the end I will be blessed. And as I lay down the hope for more and accept what may be from this point forward the river of tears stills and an inner peace is temporarily reached. The desire to see, talk or have anything to do with pregnant women still remains far from strong...and is, in fact, entirely absent but I know time will only heal that aspect of it all. But as I focus on moving on I will thoroughly enjoy my size 8 jeans, a size small shirt, that I do not feel like a gestating beached whale, the fact that I can run and do pushups, situps and squats and the fact I do not have to pause every 3 hrs to feed a newborn baby while traveling. And I will get my tattoo and we will travel and I will thoroughly enjoy this new era of our life.

Tears dry and my rational mind returns to me. Once again I am filled with embarrassment over the volatile state of my emotions and the instability of it all....the irrational ramblings of my head. Emotions and thoughts I find hard to admit to the real world....embarrassing state of thought and mind. But there is a peace that comes with accepting and coming to terms with what may be...letting go of the feelings of being robbed of everything sacred in life and just embracing that I have been exceedingly blessed in every area of my life....that I am loved....that I am blessed despite my many failures. And I am an overcomer. There are no more tears for the could've beens, should've beens, what would've beens. There is only a future and a hope that lies before me....and a tattoo, and a mountain to hike and a 5K to run.

Journey to the 5K Report: 1 Mile: 11:35

So this would be Friday's Progress Report coming in on Tues morning. Somewhere in there time passed and suddenly Tues was already upon us. Weekend slipped by in the company of much loved friends and then Monday came and didn't go so well.





But I did it. I ran a continuous mile. It was far from the fastest mile ever run by mankind but it was the fastest mile I have ever accomplished...which was enough for me. 11:35. The last mile I ran was some 6 1/2 years ago when Aubrey was a mere 6 months old. That was the only mile I had ever run or would even run until last week. Time on that was 12:56. So, I have done nothing but improve despite my 6 1/2 year absence of any physical exertion. I'm pretty proud of 11:35. The goal is a 10 minute mile. I've been running 8 minutes at a time and recovering for 2 and then running another 6-8. So the 11:35 run was a test of my absolute endurance and pushed me to the limit. But I don't have it in me to fail. It is not in me to be defeated.....except when it comes to making bread. But even then...I know me and I'll be back at making it again in about 4-6 weeks. And I'll go through yesterday all over again...until I finally succeed at it.





So, running.....I couldn't quit. A mile was a mile and I was determined to run it....more importantly....finish it. Fanatical husband heard of my mile test and was more than a bit inspired to encourage me in my endeavors. With him by my side I set out to conquer. By the end of it I was quite convinced I would never take him running with me again.....ever. With course laid out courageous self was feeling up for the challenge. Flat mile laid out with 20 mile per hour winds taken into consideration, course planned accordingly, I felt confident in the fact I know my landmarks well. Great familiarity of them and what I am capable of accomplishing, I figured this would help in getting me all the way home....intervals of running into the wind and running with it. I was confident that when the mind games began and the going was far beyond comfortable.... far beyond merely tough.....and the mind became a cruel place that this would be the needed boost to attain my mile goal.




But, as it was, loving husband had an altogether different plan in mind....one that accomplished the goal of royally convincing me he'd never be welcome to accompany me again and that I'm quite capable of going it alone. But, of course, after it was all said and done, goal accomplished and I was feeling like quite the victor I was ready to do it all again....with him by my side. In fact, he was the only reason I managed to accomplish what I did and come back with feelings of single-handedly conquering the world.




So it was that I set out with him by my side. I began to run and he led me away from my well beaten path and onto lonely Texas highway.......in which we ran uphill against 20 mile an hour winds. Resistance training has a whole entirely new meaning to it these days. Words that were far from kind or permissible somehow voiced themselves in the pain. Encouraging husband gave the command to stop wasting breath and put the energy into the pain. So it is that I cussed and struggled and gasped for any amount of air I could get and continued on, pushing farther than pain itself with coaxing husband encouraging me the entire way. What becomes quickly laughable is when sweet town people come up after the fact and say..."Saw ya out runnin today. Ya looked good!" Ummm.....you apparently weren't looking at me running cause I was the one who was sucking wind barely making any progress looking more like a half dead elephant rather than the competitive athlete I have envisioned. But I suppose to their geriatric selves anything looks good out running....whether it be the half dead, gasping elephant that lives down the street or the occasional random donkey that escapes the confines of it's pastures.





So it was that I ran my first true continuous mile in eleven and a half minutes. 1 down and two more to go. After my mile I rested for 2 minutes and then continued to run another half mile...this time on flat terrain but still against the harsh west Texas winds. The sucky part.....my shins hurt so bad right now that running husband fears I am in danger of injury and being out for quite some time. But pain has never been known to slow my highly driven self so I am tempted to run despite his warnings. The danger....if I really do some major injury to them I won't be able to run for a good 2 months..which would then disqualify me from the 5K. So, I've resorted to the Wii for a week while my shins figure out they are actually being required to do something. I'll resume running next week...hoping that I can pick back up and just add to my mile...and a half.



And to keep it real and keep me grounded in humility...stories of my adventures in running. Dressed in layers for warmth...which I quickly found I didn't need after about the first 2 minutes...I was wearing black spandex ankle length leggings covered by gray sweat pants. At one point during the 8 minute segments of running I began to feel a little odd.....what I thought to be my underwear beginning to have some issues and working its way down to my knees. The more I dwelt on it.....to keep my mind off of the pain of running...the more odd I thought this scenario to be due to how entirely tight my spandex leggings were. I had no desire to break the running to remedy my problem so I just continued forward, figuring I was the only one suffering from the discomfort of it. When I finally reached the end of my 8 minutes I went to correct my small but inconvenient problem. Trying to be entirely nonchalant in front of the many hidden eyes of the town I found my underwear to be precisely in place....but much to my horror, my sweat pants down around my knees. In all of my grandeur of trying to conquer the world I quickly came to the realization that I had run a good quarter of a mile through town with my sweat pants at my knees. Had I not had on the spandex that is so tight it is merely one step away from being painted on I could've added streaker to my list of things accomplished in life. Laughter began to overtake me as I looked for Mother who was following behind. Incredulously and breathlessly asking..."WHY did you not tell me????" Her answer......she couldn't get enough breath to make me aware of my problem. Nice.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

The Simple Woman's Daybook

For this Monday

Outside my window....something other than bread and the walls of my claustrophobic kitchen

I am thinking....I hate cooking.

I am thankful....that I will never make bread again and I can buy Nature's Own whole wheat and spend our entire paycheck on bread that I should be making.

I am wearing.....flour covered yoga pants, a shirt that used to be red that is now white, bread dough permanently embedded under my fingernails along with white hair that used to be brown. I can actually feel the flour in my bra and now permanently woven into the lace of my underwear. It feels like sand. And, in fact, I no longer even need a loofah when I shower tonight due to the fact my skin has already been buffed raw.

I am remembering....how bread making went today..or rather, did not go....and how crying over it all did absolutely no one any good.....except for maybe frustrating the pig and killing the singer or however that saying goes.

I am going....to try not to yell at my children anymore today and stop thinking about the fact I want to set fire to my kitchen

I am currently reading....self help books on how not to make bread anymore and how it is perfectly acceptable for a wife and mother to not cook

I am hoping....that I don't ever have to cook again

On my mind......not bread, not cooking, not dinner.

Noticing that....I'm a lot better at every other thing in life than cooking

Pondering these words...."Bread baking is one of those almost hypnotic businesses, like a dance from some ancient ceremony. It leaves you filled with one of the world's sweetest smells...there is no chiropractic treatment, no Yoga exercise, no hour of meditation in a music throbbing chapel that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread." And I am pondering that whoever said this is full of more than just crap. They are overloaded with it.

From the kitchen....not bread...nor food....nor anything else. Just Kenny's leftover birthday cake that the children will be eating for dinner...along with raw marshmallows we did not roast this past weekend and a ton of chocolate that was supposed to be for Smore's that is now for dinner.

Around the house....fearful children that do not want to come near me at the current moment.

One of my favorite things.....not cooking.

From my picture journal.....

the 20 lb flat loaves

It is Official

.....I absolutely loathe making bread. I do not mind buying my bread at Sam's and spending 800.00 a month on breadatary needs. I hate bread. Maybe in my next life or at heaven's commercial kitchen counter I will make a perfect loaf.....but until then I have reached a peace with buying bread. So maybe there's not much peace at all really but I am so mad at this point that I feel like just buying out Mrs Baird's bakery so that our bread needs will be met for the rest of our life....and we'll be eating unhealthy bread forever and supplying the rest of the world with unhealthy, cancer inducing, preservative injected bread. I hate the mess it makes. It does not bode well with my OCD ways of cleanliness. It makes a mess. It blows newly ground up wheat flour all over the kitchen, me, any child that happens to be standing nearby and all over the already mud caked floors. I hate bread. I really just hate it. Maybe someday there will be more bread in the pan that is shapeable than sticking to my hands. Maybe oneday it will rise higher than 2 inches and not fall after it reaches record breaking heights....assuming it ever does....but then again it won't ever have the chance since I am never attempting it again. Maybe someday I will actually attend a bread class and figure out what the crap is wrong with it. But until then, and even after........I hate bread and I hope to never see the kitchen again. I hate cooking.

And I found this to even further make my point in giving up in the kitchen.

1. More than 98% of convicted felons are bread users.

2. Fully HALF of all children who grow up in bread consuming households score below average on standardized tests.

3. In the 18th century, when virtually all bread was baked in the home, the average life expectancy was less than 50 years: infant mortality rates were unacceptably high: many women died in childbirth: and disease such a typhoid, yellow fever and influenza ravaged entire nations.

4. More than 90% of all violent crimes are committed within 24 hrs of eating bread.

5. Bread is made from a substance called "dough". It has been proven that as little as one pound of dough can be used to suffocate a mouse. The average North American eats more bread than that in one month.

6. Primitive tribal societies that have no bread exhibit a low incidence of cancer, Alzheimer's, Parkinson's disease, and osteoporosis.

7. Bread has been proven to be addictive. Subjects deprived of bread and given only water begged for bread in as little as 2 days.

8. Bread is often a "gateway" food item, leading the user to "harder" items such as butter, jelly, peanut butter and even cold cuts.

9. Bread has been proven to absorb water. Since the human body is more than 90% water, it follows that eating bread could lead to your body being taken over by this absorptive food product turning you into a soggy, gooey bread pudding person or even worse yet...leading to lifelong dehydration and ultimate death.

10. Newborn babies can choke on bread.

11. Bread is baked at temperatures as high as 240 degrees Celsius. That kind of heat can kill an adult in less than one minute.

12. Most bread eaters are utterly unable to distinguish between significant scientific fact and meaningless statistical babbling.

You can find all of the above info at StumbleUpon.

So.....point made. I loathe bread....despise it....hate it. And I won't be seeing my kitchen again anytime in the near future. I hate cooking. And if any of my children look at me again today and make the statement..."It's flat" I fear they will not see tomorrow. And on that note, you would do well not to ask my children to sing any accolades of me or of my mothering ability or maternal instincts anytime in the next few days....or really, the rest of their lives......as I'm sure it will take them a lifetime to get over the wrath I brought upon the entire household this morning. The kitchen makes me an irrational person. And I'm seriously not even joking. It seems laughable but I cannot stress how much I hate bread and the fact I am really truly serious in all regards...and I just hate cooking. My kitchen can burn and go to hell and I will be a better person because of it....and my whole entire family will fare better than they have today. As far as I'm concerned, my children can live on prepackaged cereal and frozen waffles the rest of their lives and the only real food they get will come from Brad's station acquired cooking skills. I really really just hate bread....and cooking....and the kitchen. I depise it.

And I hate blogger cause it won't put spaces between any paragraphs.....ever.

Lover of the Free Stuff

So.....I decided we desperately needed a dog house. Athena hates sleeping inside, as she always has. Protective guard that she is, she wants to be where she has the ability to get to anything that may pose a threat. We have always left Cricket to sleep with her for company and now with Beo, he just joined right in. We usually put them up in the playroom at night with dog beds but after Beo crapping all over it we moved them back into the shop where Athena prefers to be. Then he just crapped all over that. He's still getting used to new dog food and on meds for heartworms so it'll eventually go away. But, nonetheless, Brad was less than thrilled with the gifts we wake to every morning and was not so entirely exuberant with the fact we have a hundred pound pooping dog with diarrhea. Mother, the children and I got out there cleaned it all up, organized and went the extra mile to turn it back into a shop for him. Grayson cleaned up the playroom but it was up to Brad to cut the carpet out of it. But...the point.....they need their own, easy to clean, warm space that they love. They need a place out of the rain for the few times of year it does rain in the middle of the day. Soooo....we have this unused shed in the backyard. It was basically a "keep the dog food out of the sun" shed. Dear stupid dogs do not ever use it to take shelter from the rain. Nope....they just stand out in it or run around wildly getting thoroughly and nastily muddy. I had an idea to turn our outdoor playhouse turned toy storage space into a massive dog house but that meant quite a bit of construction. I have no doubt I could figure it all out and accomplish the vision but it's gonna take awhile....like, maybe a year or two and that's being optimistic. So, I woke the other morning with an idea and figured there was no reason I couldn't act on it that very day and solve our obvious problem. I set out to build a door for the shed. That seemed a little daunting so Grayson had an idea to buy a chain link gate and attach it to the open doorway of the "keep the dog food out of the sun" shed. This would allow plenty of air flow, a way for them to see the outside world at night but still keep them away from drafts and entirely warm under heat lamps.

As Mother, Grayson and I took trash that morning we passed a long since vacant, trashed house. There are many of those in this tiny town of our's. Trash, junk and crap abound. Tired of the junk people never clean up, the abandoned houses with absolute crap everywhere, the people who feel like they can just puke up their life on their property and then take off for other places I decided to recycle in the truest form. So, much to Brad's absolute horror, I began to scavenge. Driving around I found promising houses that showed potential of possessing what needs we might have and then unpiled everybody and went rummaging. Amazingly we were able to come up with yet more chicken feeders and waterers, a free patio table complete with chairs...despite the fact it's a bit crooked, 3 little boy bikes in great shape, and of all things, a chain link gate leaning against a fence buried beneath mounds and mounds of utter junk. It was like finding the hidden treasure. Giddy with success we loaded it up in the bed of the truck and set off to make our dog house. Dear humiliated husband grew more and more irritated with the truckload of seeming "trash"...as he is one that will buy most stuff new though he deeply appreciates my entirely frugal ways. Dear city council member fearing his reputation, this was by all means crossing over the frugal line for him. But the way I figure it, not only are we saving tons of money, we're cleaning up the town, teaching the children community service values, and using up tons of energy on very good projects...both on and off of our property. By the end of my scavenging ways I am quite sure this town will be a better, cleaner place for it. And admittedly, there is quite the thrill in the hunt for "trashed treasures". Mother and I made a quick trip in to get the hinges to mount the gate since all of my rummaging didn't come up with any of those and for 9.97 we had a completely new and perfect dog house. Dear perfectionist husband feared me mounting it completely and totally wrong so he took over my little project by the end of it. I think once I scored the free gate he was a bit more open to my re/freecycling, town cleaning ways. Until the gate showed up he was a little perturbed and a bit cranky about it all. With dog beds put homily within, heat lamps mounted and a water bowl set out we now had the perfect canine home complete with free swinging gate....all for 9.97.

In my "how to accomplish projects for free" thought processes I have decided I'm going to make a kitchen table. I found tons and tons of old wooden doors among all of the crap in this town. So, I'm off to get a few doors.....then to sand, prime and paint along with about a hundred coats of varnish to protect it all from the thousand a day spills. Then I'll hammer some legs onto it and create the perfect, authentic, quite antique table seeing as how every house in this town has to be at least 90 years old and standing at an angle....if they're standing at all. There is no doubt the doors are original to these houses as most of them have just fallen off or are hanging by a screw or two...if that....along with the lovely peeling lead paint that goes along with it. The goal is to find some unpainted doors but I have a feeling we may be digging awhile for that one. I'm sure if I look enough I can find some chairs to put around it too. You gotta love free and creative!!! So, I think I'm gonna go put some of my children to work and start making town rounds. The children have already found a mountain of coke cans they can recycle for some small....and I mean VERY small.....change. But once again....I figure it's cleaning up the town, putting them to work and they get maybe enough money for a coke out of the deal. Oh....the thrill of the hunt. Who knows what else we'll come up with! So...much to Brad's utter dismay and total horror we're off to recycle the town...or at least what we can use of it. The rest we're hauling to the dump. He's of the opinion that "they put it there ,they can clean it up". But I'm of the opinion that they put it there and they'll never clean it up. Soooo...somebody needs to do it...and in the process we can meet a few needs of our own! And, yes...what we are doing is totally legal in every way....not that it'd really matter if it wasn't since there is no apparent law enforcement around here and the people who crapped it all out would never know it's gone given the amount of junk that lies heaped on every corner of their property. But, have no fear....it is entirely legal as long as we stick to the trash heaps and do not break and enter.....which, believe it or not, is kinda tempting.

The Good Life

Night falls, southwest wind turns cooler, instructions given to close open windows. Children contentedly weary from a day of outside play. 5 year olds accomplished their dream of making it half way up the pecan tree, 3 year old managed to rope climb from the ground level to the second story fort, big 12 year old boy weary from a day of hard work for fellow city council member. Happy, joy-filled children that fill the open windows with contagious laughter. Smell of bread baking wafts through the air, candles lit, washing machine quietly churning, dryer blissfully humming in their all day vigils. Happy dogs barking, hens clucking, roosters crowing, swings creaking and groaning under the weight of energetic, high swinging children. If I believed in white lacy curtains I'm sure they would've fluttered romantically in the breeze but my practical loving self did away with those a few years ago. But this is my life and I am in love. I love that we are so exceedingly blessed....that we have the space and ability to care for 3 huge loyal dogs, that we live far enough out that chickens can scavenge and cluck, roosters can crow under our open windows, that I do not have to work and have the ability to stay home and teach my children, organize our home and keep it clean and straight....clean and straight being relative, of course.

I find solace in the mundane. I am comforted that life is as it should be these days. The sadness is dissipating as attention is turned elsewhere. I feel my body building strength, muscles growing strong, the feeling of being beyond defeat as my legs power forward. Posture has straightened as muscles strengthen and I run with confidence knowing I can reach my goal. There is a greatness that comes with no longer feeling like a panting elephant thudding down the road vibrating the very core of the earth.There is a confidence and courage that exist when I become light on my feet and can jump and run over anything. I know what it is free runners must feel as they conquer all of life and anything that comes into their path. I love running and the amazingly loyal and protective dogs that run by my side. I love being welcomed home as I sit on the floor and little children immediately gravitate to my lap.

House quiet for the night, children sleeping peacefully, hot shower running, steamy bathroom revealing child words scribbled on foggy mirror "I Love You!!" with a hastily drawn smiley face. I can't help but smile. The feel and smell of clean....hot water, soap, shampoo, steam. I welcome it and learn to appreciate it in a new way. Husband gone for his 24 hrs I linger awhile and contemplate my day...just how blessed I am. I think of hundreds of orphaned Haitian children, thousands of people that cry for water and food, people just like me trapped and buried with little to no hope of survival, parents mourning the loss of their children......as I stand here in my hot steamy shower, water and heat limitless as I linger. Daily run made in peace and quiet, well fed healthy children, well fed healthy dogs, well fed chickens, well fed cats, a refrigerator that cools, electricity that provides warmth and light at night, an oven that bakes, a van that runs....most of the time. My day overall beautiful and peaceful...worlds away from the chaos that exists only countries away. I do not take my life for granted.

Shower over I spray on a lavish amount of sweet smelling scent and release heavy, wet hair from its prison. Muscles weary from being called upon today I sink low into rocking chair to rock sweet smelling baby and give a rare nighttime bottle. She nestles up against me warm and protected from all of life. Sleepy grin, thumb finds its way to tiny mouth and floppy ear of beloved puppy is held against cheek. And I rock her in the quiet dark....moonlight pouring through window casting familiar shadows across floor and illuminating her sweet, tiny silhouette. Long eyelashes flutter and then close softly. How is it possible to ever take this for granted....this complete and total trust, this gift of a baby, this gift of my 8 children, this gift my life is?

I give thanks for the ordinary. I am thankful for the little fire trucks and dump trucks scattered haphazardly across the floor because it means I have happy healthy little boys that have been hard at play, for the ropes left laying out in the yard because it means that they have climbed and conquered, for the 7 children that lie sleeping in the same room because it means they have found best friends within each other and do not have any desire to be apart. I am thankful that we have the ability to take them all out to a restaurant, fill up an entire table for 10 and enjoy them....knowing that at the opposite end of the table from where sweet husband and I sit and talk they are well behaved and carrying on animated conversations about all of life. I am in awe that people come to our table and want to meet us and encourage and praise the children because there was a time in life when I was very overwhelmed with the number of children we had at that time and I thought we would never reach this point. I am thankful for the fact I am healthy and I no am no longer going through a seemingly infinite miscarriage. I am thankful I am finally able to put it behind me and look forward to what has not yet come into our life....completely and totally thankful for all of the things that already have. I am thankful for our dogs. It may seem odd to be so in love but I am an animal lover to the inner most core of my being. I love our dogs. And I am continually grateful for the ability to care for them and give the children the opportunity to grow up with dearly loved, loyal, canine companions that romp by their side....that we have the space for large dogs and lots of children to run, play and be free.

Quiet peace of nightfall, lone open window, sound of deer trotting across dirt road, 2 year old breathing sweetly as he sleeps in absent husband's vacant spot. How grateful I am for the end of a productive day....teaching, baking, running, organizing, playing and everything else in life that fulfills my inner soul. I may joke of cloth diapering, homemade wetwiping, bread baking people but I can only tease because I do it all too and it fulfills the very heart and soul of me. I am happy. I love to laugh. I love being that wild and crazy, spontaneous person that enjoys whatever the day brings with it...both expected and entirely unexpected. I love having a merry, content, fulfilled, laughing heart. I love contentment. I love happiness. I love to laugh. And I am thankful in every way for everything I have been given....for everything I have overcome this past year. It is rare for a person to know and become acquainted with his inner self like I have been forced to know my own. Despite the pain and the loss, the desperation, the hopelessness, I am thankful for how faithful God is and how good He is to me. He is indeed good all the time. Despite earthquakes, tsunamis, innocence lost, babies called home, "failed" adoptions, broken relationships.....He is good. I did not turn away from Him in my time of trouble and He did not forsake me. He is my healer...my rock, my fortress, my deliverer...the One my hearts longs for....aches for. The One in which my very being is fulfilled and comes to know utter contentment and acceptance. He has freed me from the chains of self. Freed me from the pain. Freed me from the loss of stolen innocence and the pain of losing a baby. Freed me from all of the guilt. He does heal the broken hearted and restore what has been taken. He does what He says He is going to do. He is faithful and so very good.

I am happy. I am desperately in love with my husband and my children. I am content with all of life. I love to laugh.

The Simple Woman's Daybook

So...I'm a little slow here but just now figuring out that these are the same questions every Monday. So here I go slowing down my day for a moment and taking time to reflect on all that is good, bad and otherwise that makes up my day.

Outside my window.....a messed up in the head rooster that is crowing at 3:40 in the afternoon

I am thinking......that I really should go run and then make bread

I am thankful for.....the fact that we live in a place of the world where winter temps are always around 70 or so and that we have 3 great dogs to play with, chickens to chase, a swingset to play on, a fort that makes a really great imaginary Alamo in which they spend hours fighting off their unseen enemies, a couple of trampolines to jump on and pastures the children live in on these days.

I am wearing....so is this really a serious thing each week?????

I am remembering.......the days when we had only a small city backyard for them to play in and it was unsafe to veture in the front yard alone.

I am going...............to run.

I am currently reading.....The Fungus Link

I am hoping........that the bread rises higher than 2 inches today

On my mind.......the fact I should make bread...didn't we already clarify this?

Noticing that......the house is painfully, scarily quiet

Pondering these words......."the more difficulties one has to encounter, within and without, the more signicant and the higher in inspiration his life will be."

From the kitchen.....a veggie juicer that needs to be washed and ground up wheat that needs to be used.

Around the house.....the smell of lavendar and vanilla, fresh air from open windows, soft breeze from the south and lots of strewn out fire trucks, race cars, dump trucks and dried up dirt.

One of my favorite things.....hard floors and no carpet

From my picture journal.....

The Firstborn

(Written previously in the week in hope that some earlier pictures could be scanned. I'm still working on scanning many pre-digital camera pictures into the computer. Our digital days did not arrive until the year of '04 when Grayson was already 6 years old. )

Early morning shrouded in white fog. First rays of day breaking through thick gray...softly illuminating dim silhouettes of still life. I stand at glass door once more, steaming coffee in hand, looking at what has become my life. In looking ahead I cannot help but remember where it is I have come from. January 12th twelve years ago. That night the Lord would bring into my life a little boy who completely altered the course I was on. A new part of me would be born that day....January 12th twelve years ago. 8 lbs 14 ozs of helpless, innocent life was placed gently within my arms....my life forever changed by this person now so dependant on me for his every need.

New Year's 1997. Much loved brother and I stay up...New York ball brightly lit, suspended in air. Count down begins, ball falls gently to the ground to announce a new year. I lay there largely pregnant silently wondering who this baby boy is. My mind jumped ahead to the year 2000. He'd be 2. What would he look like? Who would he be? Would he be cute? Oh how I prayed so fervently that God would not punish my actions of years laced with rebellion...desperately searching to find who I was as a person...what my purpose in life was. I prayed God would not send His wrath down in the form of giving me an ugly baby. How naive I was...how innocent and blind I was still at the age of 23. 2010? Was it possible to ever be a parent to a 12 year old? This baby that lied actively within.....12 years old? So far away. It'd never come. He had yet to even emerge to see the world. Twelve years....a lifetime away. Not only would it be the beginning of a new decade but the 2nd decade of a century the world had not even reached. This baby. Twelve years might as well have been 50 as I lied there and pondered. Somehow, somewhere he'd be twelve oneday..this baby boy within....but I naively thought in all of my girlhood innocence that twelve years was forever and a day away.

Twelve years later I stand in front of a glass door gazing out on gray wintry fields, church steeple clothed in morning fog like a bride awaiting her groom and I know who that tiny unborn baby became...is becoming. Years of sweet memories. Years filled with fast paced activity....blurred with learning the many facets of parenting a growing family and the changing tides of life. Handsome boyish face losing its boyhood look....so close yet still so far from manhood. But I know now as the pendulum has continued to unfailingly sway and years have continued to tick away that manhood for my sweet, handsome boy is not so very far away at all. I fight off unsuspecting tears but still they fall. That tiny boy now this half boy, half man.

How proud doting, devoted husband and I are of him. We flounder our way through this journey called parenting but God has been so faithful and so good to bless us in our faltering endeavors of raising another life to honor Him and contribute all he has been created to be to society....a servant's heart being slowly and painstakingly molded to live a life that will honor the Lord in every way....to give Him the glory for every success He encounters along his way throughout life. What a leader I see in him. What a gift God has given him to see opportunities and act on them...businesses, ways to make money and the discipline to safely guard and deal wisely with the benefits that are reaped. This boy of our's has the heart to give everything he earns yet wait on the moment he sees a need. He is learning what it is to be wise in the decisions he makes concerning what he has been given.

He is the responsible firstborn that has the ability to take charge and run a ship like I do. He is the sweet ever reliable one that I can continually count on to have my forgotten cell phone in his pocket, the forgotten house keys in his hand, the camera on his shoulder, my sunglasses hanging from his collar. He is my strong willed bull that challenges his way through life and wants the whys and hows of all of life. He is intense and passionate about all he does, performing everything he does with all that he has within him. He is the analytical thinker that sees life as concrete, a world devised by a vast array of numbers and geometries, my problem solver that knows there must be an answer for everything that takes place. He is the planner and organizer of them all. When there is an organizing need that needs to be met and my efforts of getting to it have failed I know it is him to which I can assign the task and have every trust that not only will it be finished but done with absolute perfection. He is quite the quintessential perfectionist. His love and appreciation for organization rivals my own.

Though we do battle what this age brings and the challenges that go with it I also embrace this time in life as a total and complete joy because I know that these are the last days of the little boy left within him. I so desperately love that little boy but I find myself falling in love with the emerging man I glimpse throughout my days. How truly bittersweet these passing days are. How much I love the baby boy I held 12 years ago today. I didn't think it was possible to ever love more than I loved then but how much wiser I have become....how much more love has filled my life as he has grown and as 7 other children have multiplied the intensity of my love and the devotion that I have for my 8 beautiful children. How much fun I have with this 12 year old boy that wrestles me to the floor in laughter, that talks non stop about all of life, that stands in awe of current affairs, world news and political activity. How my heart still melts at my little weather reporter as he comes in as he has since the age of 5 and gives me the morning report and any changes that have been made from the previous day's forecast. How in love I am with how mesmerized he is by the science of weather with his weather kits, indoor and outdoor thermometers, rain gauges and wind vanes. How much I love his company as we drive....my map reader, weather forecaster, directional consultant, deer alerter. Though there is still so very much parenting that supersedes friendship right now I see in him the friend he will oneday become...the kind of friendship that is built by years of living together and knowing each others strengths and weaknesses. I falter pretty much every minute of every day on this parenting journey but I see how blessed we are as I look at each of my children and observe Grayson at this age in life.

Morning fog growing thicker, all of life now obstructed from view I return to bedroom. There in basket I spy the folded clothes awaiting storage. Little boy pajamas neatly stacked that Gavin has now outgrown and I remember the nights sweet growing boy wore them some 9 and 10 years ago. His baby face so vivid I can almost smell the lotion and touch his rounded cheeks and I ponder what a strange, cruel thing the wonder of time has become. I enjoy every stage of each of my children. It's not so much that I don't want them to grow and mature and accomplish their purpose in life but I might slow down the years a little more. I have learned to embrace the moment and live within it, experiencing it wholly in every way, because life and the joy of it are so inexplicably short. One gray, foggy, winter morning the sun will rise and twelve years will have passed and that baby you held will quickly be leaving boyhood....one cold winter morning twelve years from now this carefree boy will be a 24 year old handsome man. And it's just not so far away...and in all reality is closer than I ever imagined.

How much I love this tree climbing, axe chopping, gun shooting, chicken rangering, poultry loving, trampoline jumping, fence scaling, weather forecasting, news casting, lawn mowing, dish doing, clothes folding, trash emptying, bike riding, fort building, polite, well mannered, yes ma'am, no ma'am, yes sir, no sir, intense, responsible, charismatic, social, outgoing little boy of mine. How my heart softens at the sight of him.

January 12th. Twelve years ago today a baby boy was born and I became a mother. My sweet boy. My firstborn. Happy Birthday Grayson! You are one of my truest joys. How proud I am of you....of everything you are and all that you are becoming.

I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be.

Journey to the 5K: Progress Report

"It is not enough to take steps that may someday lead to a goal; each step must itself be a goal and a step likewise."

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift.

Since the response was so great to the running post through both comments and emails I've decided to inspire us all and post progress reports, quotes and anything I come across that might help motivate us all on this journey of reaching our goal. If you'd like you can post your own progress report on your own blog and state in the comments that you they are now up on your blog....until I figure out a more technical and appealing way to link to your progress or you may just leave your accomplishments in the comments of each Friday's report on here.

My goal each week is to run 3-4 days and on my off running days do some sort of strength and endurance training to increase my cardiovascular ability....since it seems to be lacking more than a little. I have begun learning jui jitsu with strong, tank like husband which serves many purposes for me. The only real fear I have left that I can find within myself at this point is being caught by surprise by a man with intentions that are far from honorable. This fear never once was entertained in my life until this past summer. I do trust wholly in the Lord and know that we are protected and covered in His blood but just as I rely on God to provide for us I also take the steps to balance our accounts and make sure our money is in order. So just as I rely on the Lord for my total protection and know that His ways are indeed so much higher than my ways so do I take care of what he has given me and seek to be wise in protecting the life and healthy body He has given me. Big loyal 70, 80 and 100 lb dogs by my side help divert but in the event the dogs are ever shot and I am left alone I have every intention of putting up a pretty good fight both armed and unarmed. The jui jitsu factor for me covers self defense, endurance and strength. Fighting against patient, instructional husband is perfect practice for anything the world may throw this way. So I figure it is a multi functional thing for me to do and at this point in my life if it doesn't serve many purposes than it is not worth my time, energy or effort. After processing through it for weeks this was one of those few things that finally made the cut.

We were also given a Wii a few Christmases ago so the goal is to incorporate a workout through that avenue on my off days. I've come to have a love/hate relationship going with Mia, my fitness coach. You have to love her ability to never get out of breath for hours upon hours when you lay half dead in the middle of your living room floor. She's become my new best friend and even makes me aware of the days I don't "show up"...which, of course, does nothing for the irritation factor. So it is that my off days of running consist of other things such as meeting up with Mia and entertaining my children in various absurd ways. At the moment Ivye thinks it's entirely funny for the children to put on happy music and watch me go into a squatting position and then shoot straight up into the air over and again so I do that at least 15 times a day through 2 and 3 minute songs. I figure that HAS to count for something....at least my quads, calves and hamstrings are saying it does. And Gavin thinks it's the best activity of the day to hang on like a monkey while I do push-ups so I figure I've got an extra 24 lbs of resistance clinging to my back as I work on arm and shoulder strength.

Do a little more each day than you think you possibly can.

This week's work:

Mon: nothing...lovely, huh?

Tues: Run day: 5 minute warmup, 8 minutes of running w/ 2 minute breaks for 30 minutes, 5 minute cool down

Wed: Wii My Fitness Coach upper body

Thurs: Run Day w/ Mother: 10 minute warmup, 6 minute running, 4 minute break, 4 minute running with 2 minute breaks for 30 minutes, 5 minute cooldown - conquered my first major hill and didn't die!!

Friday: Wii My Fitness Coach lower body, jui jitsu

Sat: (proposed plan) Run Day: 5 minue warmup, 8 minute running 2 minute break for 30 minutes, 5 minute cooldown

Sunday: Rest Day




Inspiration and motivation that spoke to me this week.


"People rarely succeed unless they have fun in what they are doing." Dale Carnegie

"You cannot plough a field by turning it over in your mind."


"They can because they think they can." Virgil


"Success is the sum of small efforts repeated day in and day out." Robert Collier

"The difference between a successful person and others is not a lack of strength, not a lack of knowledge, but rather a lack in will." Vince Lombardi

"Success isn't how far you got, but the distance you traveled from where you started."

Some Belated Christmas Pics

Daddy's Christmas visit......and the children have been on me to change the picture to the right since the last one was 2 years old. So, this would be the pic I just cropped and stuck over there since I couldn't really come up with any recent acceptable ones that I could think of.
Grant was way too busy messing with his gun and Gavin's mouth is entirely dirty but you get the general idea

Christmas at Nanny and Pawpaw's...you gotta love group pics..nose picking and all. KNeeling little boy in red shirt and black pants is Milo, Brad's sister's little boy


Sweet happy Ivye playing with much loved Granny



...and just loving

Hard at play winning the world's wars

Life's always better in 2's

.......or 4's. Filthy dirty boys ready for a much needed bath. So Grant was a bit mad that he was being forced to stand by Garrett who had just, prior to this picture, taken him to the floor. Therefore, Grant's loooking a little less than thrilled.

This would be before they tackled each other

So We Forgot a Kid

The unbelievable part? It's not exactly the first time. Though I can safely say it's the first time we managed to get 30 miles before realizing it. The even more ridiculous part? I went room to room checking and double checking to make sure we had all of our crap packed up and didn't leave anything behind at Mother's house. Yep....we sure had it all....the stuff, that is. Not one toy left out, not one article of clothing misplaced, not one piece of personal property forgotten. Except perhaps maybe a tiny little sleeping girl. Mother was with the children and I so it took 2 adults and 7 other children to forget one. So....does this mean we can now safely say we have a large family? I think we might have just made the cut. We pretty much do roll call on most days but apparently we need to do it a little more often than we do....like maybe actually make a habit out of it? We came to realize this little fact after stopping for lunch and I glanced at her sippy cup. Thinking I needed to grab it and wondering why she hadn't fussed for it while on the road. I turned to discover her seat went unoccupied. Suddenly...like being struck by lightening.....I tried to perceive that I might have actually not really loaded her into the van. Running to Grayson and Evye who sat occupying Mother's truck beside me I hysterically asked them if either of them had loaded her. Both replied with blank looks..."You said not to cause she was sleeping. You'd wake her up when we were ready to leave." Soooo...maybe I kinda forgot to wake her up.



On a little different note....Garrett's aforementioned booger. Yes.....the very odd and strange things children do. Normally I would not bring up such disgusting topics but I figured this was worthy of at least an honorable mention. Someday when I am 90 and I wonder what my days were filled with when I had lots of little guys underfoot I will be able to refer back to the archives of my life and remember such noteworthy things as this. Occurring also in FW this past weekend Garrett came to me with huge, blue, honest eyes. Infamous, mischievous grin in place, "Mama, I picked my booger." Upon glancing at the alleged booger even I was in total shock. There upon his finger had to be about the biggest booger I have ever laid eyes on. It appeared to be the right color so I never saw fit to doubt the authenticity of the object attempting to be handed over to me. As I went to discard of it, since this was obviously not floor flicking friendly in size or stickiness, I came to see rather jagged edges that could not have been pleasant to live with. As any good parent does I laid it out on the paper towel and examined the said booger only to find that it was no booger at all but a balled up straw wrapper from Sonic. I have no clue how long this foreign object has been in place or when he finally decided he no longer was comfy with it in there. I do know that the van was thoroughly cleaned out and we haven't been to Sonic in a week. That is just plain nasty even in my book.


The reason for our trip to FW.....our newest addition. Though we were not by any means actively looking for a new dog this sweet boy just kinda found us. Upon seeing his picture it was just hard to get him out of the head. It took 3 weeks of talking..and pleading....with Brad to finally give in to yet another dog. Beo's story....they had asked the rescue to take him but she declined since he was not full blood GSD. After thinking it over his day of euthanization came. He was scheduled to be put down at 10am and our dearly loved rescue lady put the call in at 9:50 or so to save him due to what a great dog he is..despite the fact he doesn't really meet rescue "standards". They put a halt on his euthanization at 5 til and he was spared. And there he sat at her rescue overlooked by most due to the fact he was less than 100% GSD...until we found him and heard his story.The funny part...he is 1/2 German Shepherd and 1/2 Malamute and at 100 lbs is not full grown. I LOVE this dog! So it was that we spent Friday night hanging out with Mother, Saturday afternoon/evening on the town with sweet friends and Sunday was dog adoption day. It is safe to say that "big" does not do this dog justice....at least when you get him in a 15 passenger van with 8 children.....6 of who are still in carseats. Anyone who has never driven 300 miles with a 100 lb lap dog, 8 children and a newly potty trained toddler has never really fully experienced life. I think Grayson, Evye and I laughed the majority of the way home. However...a side note here on the potty training toddler....though Gavin has been completely potty trained for quite some time I haven't really trusted him while traveling since completely disassembling a carseat due to urinary factors is one of my less than favorite things to do. But this trip was made with him in underwear and not even an accident occurred. We did manage to stop for 2 bathroom breaks and it never fails that if one goes they all go....at least boys. Girls don't really seem to have the love of pasture peeing that the boys seem to have. So, unpiling everybody around the dog was quite the humorous event and provided some great entertainment.

So this would be our new 100 lb boy, Beo.

In the back making social rounds.

Moving up as he greets

And reclaiming his spot up front.

My new front seat buddy. My view looking to the right as we drove down lonely highways.

When he finally 1/2 way figured out he couldn't exactly occupy my lap while I drove this would be how we continued home.

Sunset across Texas

Waiting for me to climb back in

The Simple Woman's Daybook

So I found this and pretty much fell in love. When writer's block occurs....or life just happens...and I don't get around to posting much this is a good, fun, g rated post filler. Not that I have any fear that writer's block will ever in a lifetime occur...as I have plenty of entertaining things that could fill pages up..such as the things that come from the mouths of my children....both g rated and not so g rated. We won't go into the not so g rated ones. But things such as Garrett's alleged booger that turned out to be a straw wrapper that lived within his nose for the past week.....or the van's deer guard that fell off after exceeding speeds of 60 while crossing a filled creekbed 30 miles from nowhere......or the 100 lb dog that attempted to help me drive the 300 miles home. Or I could fill pages up with the amusing things they say such as Garrett coming to me one moment ago, as I am home alone with only Aubrey and the 3 little ones...and commenting about a Nilla wafer...."This is a cookie. It smells like a cookie and looks like a cookie but it is just a cookie." I am quite certain that our efforts of procreating have produced child geniuses and future Einsteins. Or such as something like Aubrey's question a few days ago, "Mom, why do we like dogs so much and keep getting them? Cause we have bad attitudes and you don't want anymore kids around....just dogs???" Can't say that I haven't contemplated that thought myself, sweet Aubrey girl. Or things such as Evye and Aubrey completely draining the entire hot water tank while staying at Mother's and Aubrey flushing the commode for 10 minutes straight trying to heat it back up while Evye stands in the cold shower saying loudly "Not yet....." over and over. Or the many songs in which they get the words totally screwed up. This seems to be an up and coming trend around here.

I sing to the children every once in awhile when I put them to bed and Garrison's song request a few nights ago....

"Mom, would you please sing me the song about when Santa cried?"

"Ummm....buddy, I don't know that one. When did Santa cry?"

"I don't know but there's a song about it."

"Hmmm....I'll have to think about it. You want me to make one up about Santa crying?...cause I really don't know of any sad songs about a jolly fat guy."

Entirely frustrated with me he states, "Mom....I'll guess I'll just sing it!"

He begins to sing "Sanctified" by Mercyme.

Or the song the children and I heard in the van the other day on our way to FW. Chorus repeated 100 times too many, "Walk on". Grayson and Evye finally asked about the 67th time it was repeated...."Why does she want gum so bad????"

Or Steven Curtis Chapman's song "God is God" in which the words are "God is God and I am not". Repeated mistakenly around here by many little singing voices as...."I am God and He is not." That's lovely.

Or yet another one...Jeremy Camp's "Empty Me" in which it states, "I need more of you and less of me" sung by many little people and usually myself too....."I want more of me and less of you." Yep..I'd say we're definitely on the right track.

Or today in the truck with Evye and Aubrey the song states, "I am so satisfied...more than I used to be" or something to that effect. Evye's question. "Mom...did you hear that???!!! He just sang that he's so fatter than he used to be!!!!"

So anyway...bunny trail there. But I found this and found it to be entirely interesting and fun. I didn't put my name at the bottom of the host page as I will probably do nothing but make fun of it and give unacceptable answers. So, I refrain from actually officially joining....as I find it is so much more fun to answer these with humor instead of answering in all dignity. I mean....who really cares what the weather is doing in your corner of the world, what you're wearing...cause I promise you it is entirely not all that enticing, what you are remembering or anything else. I mean...really......who cares what people 3 states away are having for dinner or if their dog barked today??? Not me.

But honestly...I humbly admit that I do find them interesting to some extent....a little bit..sometimes. Despite the fact I find it hard to answer them without humor I do like to read some people's thoughts.....kinda. I have to admit that some people are just plain boring. But the unboring ones....yep, I like those.

So I bring humor to this and do not dare add my name to the list of people actually participating...since I'd probably get kicked off the acceptable followers list. And hopefully nobody sees my little avatar picture square down there on the followers and clicks on it only to discover my interpretation of this highly popular thing to do. So here's Daybook entry #1 that I'm sure goes against the grain of the others. But I figure life is boring enough as it is....why not liven it up a little where you can with a little humorous truth????

For today...from my first daybook attempt:

Outside my window....2 naked little boys refilling cat food bowls.

I am thinking....the 14 month old should probably quit chewing on the knife.

I am thankful....for the dog that just crapped all over the playroom and shop.

I am wearing.....nothing? Alright, so maybe I have on 3 inch thick socks.

I am remembering....the dog crap that I need to clean up..and the fact I should probably get dressed?

I am going....to beat some kids if they don't stay in the bed.

I am currently reading....the ingredients label of my Bath and Body splurge....Black Raspberry Vanilla body spray. Why is the first ingredient always alcohol?? Do you really want to go spraying that all over your body??? Apparently I do...and about 50 other million people in the world that keep them in business.

I am hoping....that the middle bathroom sink will quit smelling like something died in there and someday will drain again. Really!

On my mind.....the naked little boy standing behind me in the same chair I sit in.

Noticing that....the computer desk seriously needs to be cleaned off despite sweet, entirely non- organizational husband's resistance to it.

Pondering these words.....I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine and he shall be my Squishy.

From the kitchen...dishes and dirty cabinets....and alot of 1/2 eaten carrot sticks.

Around the house.....too many awake kids.

One of my favorite things......an organized desk...which does not exist when husband is home for any length of time.

From my picture journal....look closely at Gavin (pastel blue shirt w/ green/blue turtle shorts)