Texas Ice-lands

I love this. I love it so much more than 110 degree days with 25 mph blast furnace winds. I absolutely love chili and soup on the stove, candles burning, bundled up under covers reading books and watching movies. I love the smell of clean bathrooms and floors while sleet and snow pour forth from the sky. The gentle tapping of frozen rain gently hitting windows while we sleep....waking up to a world of white. I don't exactly love the muddy ice covered boots leaving melted water trails all over the floors which we traverse in our socks. I don't love the purple frost bitten hands that come in from having snow and ice soak through gloves, numb tongues that now pronounce words with a lisp and runny noses that no longer have any thawed nerve endings within them. But I do really love this weather and won't be the one found griping about it...but then I pretty much love any weather...except the whole 110 thing. I find that to be a little trying to the soul.

The problem with Texas is that no one is even somewhat prepared for 4 days of a frozen world. The children own 1 long sleeved shirt each. The rest of the days they run around in short sleeves in total bliss as they jump, slide, ride, and run. The outside tankless water heater does not prefer sub zero temps for days on end and does not waste any time in freezing up....for days on end. I happily and rather optimistically assumed we could live simply without hot water....until I tried to do a load of wash, run the dishwasher or have children do dishes in 33 degree water. We blithely improvised, put a kettle of water on to boil and left it hot all day long for gallons of hot tea and hundreds of bowls of oatmeal while soup bubbled happily and warmly beside it. And the wash...it could wait....kind of. But on day 3 of this pipes started freezing and then breaking and any and all water put forthage came to a complete halt. The next problem with Texas is that it rarely truly snows....it just ices over. So, underlying the beautiful winter wonderland is really the brutal, unkind ice land. And it's unkind to many water pipes lying under house, out of reach unless you cut holes in bathroom floors. In a matter of a mere 48 hours we have cut a hole in the bathroom floor, I have managed to set our kitchen on fire...and it was not small.... and do a 360 in the truck which ended wrecked in a ditch. Two pipes have broken, we've lived without hot water, lived without water at all and I've fallen on my butt twice....and butt is only the milder word that comes to mind. The house sounds like an infirmary and 7 out of 10 are running fever, 2 have ear aches and 9 are coughing. But it keeps life entirely interesting and really actually kind of fun....not the sick part.....but the rest did. It's all good. Joy pervades. The house is warm....and still standing, we have good books, good movies, lots of little comedians to keep things merry, steaming tea, bubbly soup, boiling wax, hot oatmeal, body warming coffee with a variety of enticing creamers, whip cream to top it with, 5 pair of socks with which to layer frost bitten feet due to old, drafty, wood floors, and no water to do laundry or dishes with...and that's not bad. Chores are brought to a halt so we sit and we play and we read.

The boys' bathroom sporting the new hole to get to frozen pipes. And the Pam kitchen spray??? I didn't even ask.

Working with Grayson and saving 550.00 by the two of them fixing it. Plumber gave us a quote of 250.00-275.00 to drive out and fix the 1st pipe. 24 hrs after that the 2nd one broke. I love it when he fixes stuff himself, teaches Grayson the value of doing it yourself, allowing him to learn, and just, in general, does his manly man thing. And I love the fact I'm not the one down there doing it. How grateful I am for the men in my life, their willingness to step up to the plate in 20 below weather to get the job done so we are cared for and warm. And I just like watching him work.

When messing with and teasing the little boys I asked if they cut the hole in the floor with scissors and why they would do such a thing...especially leaving such a mess and tracking dirt 3 inches thick to the backdoor. They stated and restated that "Daddy did it and they did not." Gavin finally stated adamantly...."Mama!! Him boots did it!!" The bottom of his boots are mild compared to what they...and the floor....looked like in the end. He was amazing though and swept the entire floor after it was all said and done. Yes, I love it when he fixes stuff.

So about that fire thing......In all of my frugality I take the unused wax in the bottom of candles, toss the chunks in a coffee cup and melt them softly and gently....softly and gently being the key word here.....over the stove in an effort to use the candle to the fullest extent. But apparently the simmer setting is a little more of a simmer than I gave it credit for. Burner set to this practical setting we all eventually began to notice house smelled a little funky and a nice haze pervaded. Responsible oldest son goes to investigate. I follow. Kitchen reached and we're greeted by outrageously boiling wax smoking obnoxiously in little coffee cup on stovetop. As if on cue for our arrival it burst into a little cup of flames. And I must preface here that I am quite knowledgeable in my fire wife status and that any and all grease fires are responsibly put out with baking soda or by handy fire extinguishers. What no one really bothers to tell anybody is that a candle...wax more specifically....is really truly just a pretty grease fire in disguise....though a candle contains no true kitchen grease. So....we managed to figure out the hard way that it does actually contain some molecular cousin to grease. Quick thinking son turns burner immediately off and kills the heat. We stand observing our little controlled fire, trouble shooting options. No towel over it....it'll catch on fire. Little bit of an overkill for the extinguisher. Glass plate, maybe? Oh....that's right...we don't actually own any. As we debated the little cup fire rose a little higher and licked at the wooden spoons above...despite the lack of heat since we had, after all, done the sensible thing and turned burner off. As round little cup fire shot a little higher I bravely moved spoons out of harm's way and came to the quick, and seemingly innocent, decision we had to extinguish quickly now...which meant water. Obedient son gets an entire cup of water and tosses. And the newest lesson of the day began. There was absolutely nothing miniature about the sudden explosion that took place. Flames,massive and towering, blowtorched outward and upward through the kitchen....under the vent hood, around the vent hood, up the cabinets, across the walls and upward and onward to the ceiling. By this time every kid watching the little cup fire was now running for points of exit. So I danced a jig, made sure Grayson was ok and said about every cuss word that has ever existed in my vocabulary. It burned a little everywhere as I speed dialed firefighting husband, seeing as how it now seemed his services would come in useful in his home life as well. It worked out well since he was not the usual 32 miles away but a mere block away running the water plant. Seemed a little ironic to me that we're at home blowtorching the kitchen while he's at work making water. And I must interject here that calling 911 and volunteer dept to our aid would have only furthered our slight problem. The house would burn down and set the rest of the town on fire by the time they even figured out how to unroll their hoses and where the nearest hydrant is. I figured I stood more of a chance with firefighting husband. But, just as quickly as it torched the kitchen it all went out. I never did quite understand that one. The little cup seemed to blow fire and then inhale it once again and all of the flames and excitement died as swiftly as they started....almost. Husband made it home to take in the singed scene and black walls. He did a thorough check of the kitchen, opening cabinet doors to make sure no more tiny little flames escaped without notice. Little coffee cup sat black with a million cracks but glued together by the thousand degree wax/grease in disguise. So, that made our 30 below day somewhat interesting and kept us quite toasty. Now to repaint the walls. Cause the black doesn't wipe off.

The pics do not even begin to do this scene justice of any sort. That would be the blackened coffee cup. It shot so far that we are still finding wax on the ceiling, cabinets and floor. The pan that sat next to the cup appears to have been dipped in wax. It took an ice scraper to get the thickly coated countertops wax free.

The 7 ft ceilings and the corner that is 5 or so ft away from the cup.

You can actually see the shape of the flames in the black. And the ceiling was clean so none of that is dust. The concentrated black parts next to the molding are where the ceiling had little baby flames on it that took a little longer to go out.

As if torching the kitchen wasn't enough my destructive self decided to help hard working 80 hr a week husband out and make the 16 mile trip to the nearest town to grab dog food, cat food and the other emergent necessities. He assured me roads were quite clear at this point and all was indeed well. With most children sleeping warmly in bed I set off with two oldest in tow. Roads were a little slicker and a little more coated with ice than what confident husband had portrayed..but, overall, were do-able. Well trafficked highway was clear for the most part so we drove in the dark with the myriad of big trucks that frequent it come rain, snow, sleet or shine. I made the familiar turn onto tiny laned, rarely traveled backroad where nothing in life exists except for the occasional herd of shivering cattle and frozen goats. Ice coated road, we slipped and slid the remaining way to the lights of town. Sharp curve in road harbored little ice so all was well. We arrived and bought needed items, laughing and chatting rather merrily. With more confidence the truck climbs the hill home, rounds the sharp curve slowly, tops the hill and with no apparent dangers lurking since I had, after all, traversed this path once already I accelerate onto a solid sheet of 3 inch ice ....which then sends us whirling. I must interject here also that I am quite good at slipping and sliding in vehicles on these rutted, 4 feet deep mud roads when it rains. But ice differs quite drastically from mud. So, I, in all of my infinite wisdom, let off accelerator calmly, steer into it, try to line bed up with cab and promptly send us twirling into a complete 360...in which then Evye aids us all by screaming. As taught by expert 4 wheeling husband I accelerate at this point trying to gain control but was apparently a little behind the power curve. Accelerating only proves to complicate the issue as the front 2 tires finally grab solid asphalt while back tires remain on ice. In a whiplashed move front tires stay in place while back end of truck is jet propelled behind us and we begin going backwards into a deep ditch, up the hill behind it and finally are stopped by the fenced pasture, where a manmade waterless tank sits with a 10 foot dropoff to dirt below. We all get out and assess the situation. Trying to avoid calling at-home husband with 8 sleeping young children I optimistically think I'll drive my way out of it, all the while trying to avoid more fence damage and rocking truck into the depths below. Five minutes pass with no progress as we finally come to the realization that truck sits at such a steep angle that deer guard on front is dug deeply into both snow, ice and earth. Tail light was broken and massive front end replacement bent. Husband makes decision to come to our aid despite the fact I tell him over and again I'll eventually get out of it....but we'd just be later than expected. After 5 more minutes of trying on my own it became entirely evident that we were not going anywhere anytime soon. As we waited for rescuer the stuck 3 of us played on the asphalt ice rink. Middle of an abandoned road, on a freezing winter night out in the middle of nowhere we took running starts and could successfully slide 3 entire feet. We made games of the most distance covered and froze and fell and laughed and slid some more. Headlights finally appeared on lone forsaken road and monstrous, diesel rumbling, old faithful appeared. It didn't take long for 15 passenger van to end up in same ditch truck occupied. After an entire half hour of lots of cooperation, communication and gas usage van finally managed to free stuck truck. I really love our van and the fact we drive big vehicles.

Ice covered dirt. The dirt street is not supposed to be shiny.

Warm happy boys

In all of our indoorness a little boredom set in for the younger ones so Ivye decided to give herself a haircut. Her new rhino horn. Her siblings have now lovingly nicknamed her "rhino". And the yellow line to the side of her chin would be yellow highlighter.

Thundersnow and ice blowing in from the north

With artic front blown over we now all sit in beautiful sunshine on a 60 degree day...thawed water lines with functional washing machine, dishwasher and water to clean bathrooms and mop floors. Windows thrown open to air out fever and sickness and coughs. Looks like a beautiful day to run.

And So It Begins

Transformation of body, mind and soul. Sweet growing boys are now 3 months old and both body and mind are ready to once again be challenged. Said as if life with 10 isn't challenging enough. In all reality and all romantic dreamy notions aside, life with 7 kids ages six and under...or really, more the 5 kids 4 and under......is enough to shut down any mental capacity or activity that had ever formerly existed within the entire frontal, parietal, occipital or temporal lobe. And the crap that Ivye gets into is enough to do any sane person in....but then I was never sane to begin with so, in the end, just doesn't quite matter.

Tiny town, population 320.....on a good day.....has been caught up in the whirlwind of the latest fitness craze....Zumba. And I love to dance....whether I actually can is not entirely relevant at this point. So it is that I laid aside any and all self conscious inhibitions that ever even thought of existing and I attended class. Fun loving self figured we'd just laugh the entire time while attempting to move but quickly found that six 55 year old out of shape women sucking wind heavily do not really possess the ability to laugh while trying to dance. By the end of the class I'd been voted the one with the best moves...which in and of itself is more than a little scary and quite telling of my fellow Zumba-ers. The first 5 minutes had me hooked. So it is that I attend Zumba class 3 times a week now and attempt to look like I know what exactly I am doing. The class was inspiration enough to begin running once again and so it is that I am back to running. 1st run since 21 weeks of pregnancy and I managed to crap out at the mere 1/2 mile mark. But.....I did run. The feet felt good pounding out the dirt roads...and when I say pounding, pound they did. In fact, I am quite certain that the county no longer has need of rolling our rural town roads because I just pounded it out quite successfully for them. And given the current elephasized status I have attained I did a pretty thorough job.

I Zumba on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays and run after each hour long class. So far I'm running a 1/2 mile and walking the other 2 1/2. Kind of depressing after leaving off at running 2 miles at 21 wks pregnant. But, the fact that I can even still run is enough to encourage the heart and keep on keeping on. And the fact I was not half dead nor lying on the road passed out was a little encouragement too...and, in all reality, was only barely out of breath. Monday's goal is to up it to a full mile run. It remains to be seen if I'll live through that one.

Along with the Zumbaing and running I have taken the 90 day P90X challenge. So I awake with studying husband at the ungodly hour of 5:30 every morning...long before lots of little feet ever hit wood floors....and Grayson and I do those hour long workouts. And let me assure the world at large that not only will it wake one up but it will also leave one half dead before the day has even begun. I do love it though. It is power. It is strength. It is the feeling of life...fully awake and living. Sore muscles, blood and life pulsing through veins, heart racing. And I know that I am alive and well and life is good. It is health. It is energy. It is everything I want to to be and more. It is drive. It is purpose. It is the journey to better myself in every way...from mental stamina...mind over matter....to bodily shape and changes, to focus, determination, and commitment.

And with the return to running and working out I began juicing again and have begun my 30 day sugar fast. We'll see what I feel like 30 days from now!

The Simple Woman's Daybook

The Simple Woman's Daybook

Outside my window.....I don't know. It's dark.

I am thinking....that cleaning the attic is way more fun than I ever anticipated. I LOVE to sell and trash stuff. Really I just love to trash it.

I am thankful for.....healthy children and 2 healthy babies that I can hold close, bathe, nurse, listen to.

I am wearing.....you really don't want to know. Trust me on this. Truly. It's so mommish that I should be driving a mini van. Oh wait....I do drive a van. It's just not so mini. I do, however, have on 3 pair of socks and the top pair is obnoxiously striped with floppy penguin heads bobbing around.

I am remembering.....there are 5 dvd's stuck in the dvd player that I still need to dig out, a pile of Grayson's skunk clothes laying outside that still need to be washed, and that I still need to eat dinner.

I am going.....to continue my online photography class.

I am reading......One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp, Expressive Photography by The Shutter Sisters and Digital SLR Cameras and Photograhy for Dummies.

I am hoping.....that dinner will fix itself and the kitchen will clean itself.

On my mind.....North Carolina, beach, house in the hills where it rains, sweet friendships, adoption, Weight Watchers, running, P90X, photography, forgiveness, the currently fussing baby that should be sleeping, the blessing of finally having the ability to reach a debt free goal in 12 months and how after a seemingly infinte amount of time in the desert God is moving quickly and mightily.

Noticing that.....my floppy penguin socks have a hole in them...but it really doesn't matter since there are 2 more pair of socks underneath them.

Pondering these words......"I cannot play it safe and please God".

Keith Seabourn

In the kitchen.....not dinner.

Around the house.....the evidence of 10 kids living in it.

On of my favorite things....a clean house, a clean attic, clean bathrooms, dinner fixed by somebody else, lit candles, coffee

From my picture journal.....

The things she does. All taken just today. It's no wonder I don't get anything done.

Flooding the bathroom. This would be after I turned the faucet off and drained some of it off so it'd quit spilling over..

Making her clean it all up. And those clothes would be the clean ones just out of the dryer that are now laying on top of the crushed popcorn.

She's into dressing herself so pulls the baskets off the everybody closet shelves. Tomorrow a lock goes on the outside of the closet door. And the medicine cabinet gets a lock too since she is now scaling the cabinets and getting into the higher ones and can open every child proof cap and bottle there is. If I have a pet peeve it would be the closet being messy...so this. is. exasperating.

Laid Bare

Reflection stares unmercifully back...nakedness. Raw. Uncovered. Unhidden. The clothes that mask it.....hide it.....laid aside as water trickles down clean skin. Reality stares back in pale skin form...droplets paused in the stillness before slowly finding their way into a puddle at feet...gathering on cold tile. And I stare, tempted to turn away but held captive by mirrored image. Years fade as the pages of calendar yellow but the memories hold on. Girl long ago struggling to accept the image reflected, woman now standing struggling to see past the wrinkles, the skin, the blue blood veins that trace their way down leg, the story body tells of the love children it has born to this man of mine. Youthful stomach now hidden under skin resembling puddle gathered at feet. I finger new velvet skin miraculously grown to alone protect these babes that now lie sleeping only feet away and the eight that have gone before them...cradled safely, securely, within the womb buried beneath and this very skin once so stretched that now sits puddled on top. Visions of their ten beautiful faces in my mind and I know it was worth it all...but still I wonder. How could he love this? So far from what he married, now soft, curvy, pale, riddled with the tale of having carried his many heirs. So far from the sultry blue eyes, chiseled body and sun kissed skin of woman laid bare on magazine shelf. So far from the body of the virgin womb that stood before us in line only hours earlier. And I wonder again how he could delight in this..the woman gift he has been given to unwrap under heavy blankets on dark wintry nights....only street lamp and moonlight to silhouette the many curves.

Chaos of dinner chatter, bedtime routine. I brush by him in my mission of completing task at hand. Sudden outstretched arm, he grabs and pulls me to him. I laugh and try to brush away his kisses, mumbling that there is work to be done, trying to hide the self conscious distance I have created. His grip tightens. How could I hide anything from this man that knows the intimate details of both mind and body? He's felt me tense beneath him. It's too late to hide. And he knows. For him there is no reason to even ask what bothers this heart of mine. He simply pauses. Long seconds pass until he puts lips to ear and whispers, "You're beautiful". I shrug away and try to dismiss the words but arm around waist remains strong, "Listen to me"....and the world pauses with his breath....."you're beautiful. You're everything I have ever wanted...and more. You're more than I could ever begin to even dream of. And you're mine....and I still want you." I relax against him and he feels me smile on his neck.

Little girl wedges between legs and little boys laugh contagiously as babies stir in their swinging vigil. Kitchen interlude interrupted. But before he releases his woman captive he instructs quietly, "get them in bed and dress warm." I laughingly search blue eyes for answers but calloused finger quiets the questions that want to come. So, I trust him and bed children down under warm covers and I dress warm.

With house dark and quiet, only oldest awake, smiling husband leads me to truck. Headlights shine down dirt moonlit road. He's contentedly quiet, this man of mine, driving to this undisclosed location...our apparent rendezvous in the night. Miles from anyone and anything we reach our destination and diesel engine is quieted. We sit momentarily in the stillness, in the absolute quiet. He takes my hand and pulls me from truck, guiding me to the bed he has prepared for his lifetime love. So we lay on the softness, under heavy blankets, in the silvery moonlight gazing at a million stars. His hand.....big, warm, calloused....never lets go of mine. His fingers, they trace mine. On a cold wintry night he turns to me and whispers of his love for me, his devotion, of the beauty he sees in the body that has carried his ten children, of the little things only he would know, and he thanks me for the continual sacrifices made in both mind and body. He continues on whispering every seemingly meaningless thing he loves about his bride, from the intimate details of body to the admirable strengths and the lovable weaknesses of a mind that rarely rests and a heart laid bare before him. The breeze sifts through the empty branches rustling the little life still left clinging to it, carrying on it the sounds of bleeting sheep and goats, the low moan of cattle, as it blows from wherever it came from to wherever it goes. I cup his face, bearded stubble rough beneath hands. He traces the familiar curves nestled against him. His lips find mine in the moonlight. He kisses gently at first but the wind brings with it a passion unrivaled and I fall in love all over again with this man I married. And the depth of the love for his bride is apparent. Engulfing passion, emotion, laid bare before him, all consuming love in the moonlight on a starry wintry night.

And I see how the Lord must see us...laid bare before Him. Imperfect, scars of sacrifice evident because of choice to follow Him, taut heart now stretched and pliable by the continual expansion and release of being taught what it is to die to self in order to give life to others, veins pulsing blood apparent to the world because I am His now, the life giving source no longer hidden beneath thick skin. And it is beautiful to Him..because it means I am learning to become selfless. I am learning what it is to die to self in order to give life. In a paradigm shift to worldly standards, physical body remains beautiful to adoring husband despite its imperfections...it is, in fact, loved now because of its imperfections acquired in total abandonment and passionate acts of love as I have spent the years growing older with him, carried his offspring and given myself wholly to him. And so it is with the Creator who formed and fashioned all of life before the beginning of time.......scarred, imperfect, fallible heart of mine grows more beautiful to Him because He sees beyond what stands before Him. He sees what lies within....laid bare. He doesn't want perfection because in perfection there is no history.....and in perfection there is actually no perfection at all. The scars, the skin, the veins...all acquired evidence of the sacrifices made to follow Him.....and it is beautiful. Concepts so simple to the world at large but affirmation my heart needs in every area..in so many ways. Body and heart exposed to lover. There is no judgement for what is not possessed but unconditional love for what is. Love born out of deep appreciation and understanding of how the beautiful ugly came into existence. Naked imperfection can be so astoundingly beautiful. Laid bare before him.

One Thousand Gifts

In the fog of my days, the cleaning up of many, many messes, feeding the insatiable hunger of washing machine, endlessly scrubbing toilets, bathroom floors, the cleaning of kitchen only to cook again, the juggling of a firefighter's salary, the van, the everyday issues, the longing for a husband that is continually away working......lie the moments of life....


long meaningful eye contact between two lovers, blue eyes that smile at me...speaking a million words with just one glance, best friends...lives woven together by past and present, loving eyes devouring the body before him, the Jr Mints in the bottom of the sack, the caffeine free coke sitting in the frig, the Frappachino in his right hand when he comes home, the messages that say simply "I love you. I want you. I need you", the quietly spoken thank you's for all that I do, the thousand ways he loves me....



little hands
dirt under fingernails
bouquets of desert flowers
paintings on frig
sloppy kisses by little boys
explosive little ponytail bobbing as she runs
barefeet
tiny handprints on windows
sunlight in her hair
the way he laughs
porch swings
old people in rocking chairs
wind in the trees
rain drops in their hair
steaming coffee
oatmeal
pumpkin
100 fingernails and toenails to trim
baby smiles
baby tears
wisps of hair
cars in bed sheets
army men in dish water
purring cats
barking dogs
red hair
tiny bald head
clean cut boys
long haired girls
marbles in my coffee
children's laughter through open windows



......moments.....


........my one thousand gifts......



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Baby Pics

Graham on left, Gatlin on right

Somehow we always end up taking pics in the early morning in bed. Makes for a lovely background. And Evye looks like she's about 4 yrs old here but in all reality she is 10...and looks like it most of the time. She loves loving on her boys.



Graham's looking a little drunk, as he had a very full tummy and was very ready for a nap.



Handsome boy Graham

And tubby, baby doll Gatlin finally growing some hair

Happy, happy boy

And the quiet, serious, thoughtful one....Gatlin boy

Graham finally gave it up and fell asleep.

Red head and white blond. Somehow our twins manage to emerge as polar opposites.
She's finally big enough to join in on the backyard fun.

He's taller than she is!

He loves his Evye...and she loves her real live baby dolls. Who needs the store bought ones when you've got this to play with???

Road Trip

Gayle as leading actress....on the right

Spontaneity....it's what still makes life go round, keeps it fun and stave's off the mundane. With a phone call from LA living brother an excited invitation was extended to meet him in El Paso, as they were making an impromptu appearance at the film festival at which girlfriend's film was being shown. With only 4 hours notice a trip was thrown together and we set off after only a few hours worth of sleep. Gas leaking van still not entirely road worthy decision was made to take the truck, as shift husband volunteered to stay home with the 6 children left that would not exactly fit in the six seat quad cab.

Grayson, Evye and I, with little twins in tow, set off at 8am to pick up Mother and to the road we took. With Grayson's birthday trip to LA having been postponed indefinitely since it apparently takes an act of God to get a minor on an airplane alone this seemed to be the answer for which my heart was yearning for him. A road trip, still being able to see Scott and something wild and crazy enough to keep it fun. Early Thursday morning before departing arrangements were finally made through a kinder airline and it was official that Grayson would be traveling back by car to LA with them and staying the week...flying home a week later. The trip that was so disappointingly set aside taking shape within only matter of an hour before leaving. Instructions were hurriedly given to pack for the week and the day after his 13th birthday he was bound for California to spend a week with Scott, see LA, attend the awards ceremony in Idyllwild, CA where the film Finding Jenua would take Best Screenplay, climb to the peak of the highest mountain there and just, in general, have the time of his life and be blessed by the outpouring of love it took to get him there.

And I'm always up for a road trip. This is, after all, the same person that did an insane 3,000 miles alone with 7 very young children and in the 1st trimester with baby #8....the smell of wet wipes enough to cause 1st trimester retching, feral mountain cats urinating in the seats of a van with doors left open, puking kids with diarrhea, and a radiator blowing up only half way home. It keeps it all interesting. Life would be nothing without it all...the wild, the crazy, the insane.



So it is that we took off for a turn around trip to El Paso. Border Patrol was thick and the presence of law enforcement heavy enough to make anyone highly aware of even 1 mile over the posted speed limit. We attended the showing of the film with two very happy babies in tow, snuggled happily in their ERGO's. Dinner was spent with Scott, the cast of the movie and the producers. Visiting in the hotel until the night grew late the trip back home eventually began. I overestimated my abilities a bit by thinking I could actually drive until 4 am after only 4 hours of sleep the night before. 2:00 am drew near and I finally gave up trying to prove to myself I could do the impossible. And so it was that we slept in a roadside rest area for an hour and 20 minutes with about 150 truckers until I at least had some coherent functioning ability. I wasn't quite sure whether to feel safe due to the sheer volume of large, diesel rumbling vehicles around us or threatened by the sheer number of men with which surrounded us. I decided to go with the former just so I could sleep for a bit.



And, I might add...we did have to stop at a border checkpoint on our way home. I was questioned as to my reasons for only staying within the city 6 hours, where we were from, where we had been, where we were headed and after a long slow walk completely circling the truck he finally decided we could go. I'm not exactly sure what he saw as a threat with 2 females, a little girl and 2 infants but he certainly seemed to not entirely dismiss suspicious activity on our part. It was quite the experience with law enforcement everywhere, numerous narcotic dogs barking excitedly and vehicles being searched. Eventually we were waved on through and continued into the dark moonless, starry night. Mountains looming ominously before us in the dark with millions of stars twinkling, headlights lighting the dark forsaken highway. Quiet truck as everyone slept while wheels continued forth in the vigil of turning us ever closer to home. We arrived back home at 8:30 am the next morning.



Grayson called home Sunday and was full of nothing but funny stories and complete awe over the views from the mountain they had climbed. So it is that hiking husband and son will return to California within the near future to make an entire weekend of it, camp and hike to the top with LA living, Eagle Scout brother. I think once babies are weaned the trip arrangements can be made and the 3 of us will venture up there to meet brother and girlfriend to hike the thing as a group. Excitement awaits.



And, on the road trip note, the children and I are making a weekend trip to Corpus, located on the gulf, the 1st weekend of February. Working husband will stay behind as we continue to stick with the plan and not deviate from the many hours a week it will take to becoming debt free in 12 months. Twelve more months and there will be no more financial bondage. Twelve more months and we will be free to pursue every dream we have ever had. Twelve more months and we can start over again.....anywhere.

This has absolutely nothing to do with anything discussed but is one of the many laughable moments with children. Watching Indespicable Me on a cold day. Edited a day later to correct....that would be Despicable Me. Not exactly Indespicable Me. Is that even really a word??? I think it is. It sounds like it should be. Thanks to my lovely children for the correction on the movie title.

This is how he watched the entire movie



Mother holding Gatlin, Scott, Gayle and Evye

Gayle and Evye


Uncle Scott with Gatlin

All of us

Gayle, a fraternal twin herself, getting the hang of doing the twin thing as her mom did.

The quarter mile long line for one of the many checkpoints

Sights along the way.

A topic of discussion for many miles. Who put it up there...and why?

Davis mountain range

2 of the 5 military aircraft that flew so low over us it vibrated the truck....and the amazing views of the vast west Texas landscape.

#1 of the 15 Guadalupe peaks we saw. Brad and Grayson hiked to the top a little over a year ago so we spent half of the way there trying to figure out which exact one it was. This was the 1st of many Guadalupes. We never did quite figure

it out.

The Balancing Act

He's so big he could count as another kid...or adult.

Babies were already asleep for the night so they missed out on being mauled by the new member of the family.

I'm not exactly doing so great about this once a day thing but I refuse to get my priorities screwed up and spend any and all free time on the computer or be holed up typing while the children grow feral. Once again, there is balance to be found in everything and the year of 2011 is about learning to balance everything within my life. I have a tendency to be a bit fanatical about every task that I attempt, to the extent of forsaking all that is truly important. Extreme would be a fitting word. So, I seek to maintain my priorities and blog in the midst of little boys stuck on the roof, little girls flushing entire rolls of toilet paper down toilets, tons of kids bbing, 22ing and firecrakering up stained, discarded baby dolls, nursing babies, changing babies, nursing babies again, schooling, teaching children to read, dumped out 50 lb bags of dog food as little boys sought to refill the can, digging rocks out of the dryer, emptying millions of pockets of their many outdoor treasures that are not so entirely conducive to washing machines, still nursing babies, changing babies and the myriad of other things a day holds. What would life be without it all? Wonderful, crazy, noisy, chaotic, joy filled life with children...lots of them....and lots of little boys with little boy antics and a tiny little girl boasting a mischevious streak a mile wide.

Helping Daddy jump it off

More of Ivye feeding the cat..at least this time it wasn't the entire 10 lb bag

After discovering she was not in her bed and nowhere to be found in the house 10 very long minutes later we found her here. She was overlooked in our haste and the original quick scan we did of the boys' room. With Evye and Aubrey staying up late on a girls night Ivye took it upon herself to go find company. She loathes being left alone.

Day 2

So nothing in me feels the urge to blog as of now. I'm currently doped on 5 tsp of Benadryl to try and get a massive allergy attack under control. Dare I say this once a day blogging thing is off to a rolling start with nothing to say, no motivation to write it and too sleepy to think. Babies are to the point now that I can lay them in bed awake and they will quietly play until they eventually and happily fall asleep. And we are down to only Graham nursing once a night. Gatlin usually sleeps through unless Graham wakes him. And babies playing themselves to sleep means I can usually go to bed sooner. So, I have great hope of a good nights sleep and, as anyone who has ever downed this much Benadryl surely knows....one needs a full night's sleep and an all day sleep and then another night's full sleep to recover from 5 tsp. Allergy attacks this severe do not come often anymore but when they do they inhibit breathing and that tends to be a slight problem. I hate using an epi pen or calling medic husband home to do an epi injection so usually ungodly amounts of Benadryl remedy the situation...but also leaves quite the hangover after the fact. Given the fact medical predictions said I would be hospitalized 6 months out of the year after the age of 29 due to failing immunity and allergies that could no longer remain under control with prescribed medicines, potentially endangering my life, I figure 5 tsp of Benadryl once in a blue moon is not so bad at all and, in fact, makes it entirely tolerable. I am reminded each and every time how blessed I am to be here and only having to deal with this every once in awhile...and remain at home while it is dealt with. So, scary amounts of Benadryl may knock me out for awhile but I am not in a hospital bed but living an absolutely amazing, entirely healthy life here at home with my children.

The majority of my day was spent on the phone giving a detailed statement to the insurance claims adjuster for the dude's truck I hit with Brad's truck a few days ago. That was fun. It's going to be my fault but if he hadn't been such a turd and in an all fire hurry to whip around me while I was backing up I wouldn't have hit him. Had he remained patient and just let me back up then the entire thing could've been avoided. But, patience seems to be a rare virtue that drivers, more often that not, no longer possess anymore. And he obviously had no desire to wait on me to back up. In his attempt to whip around me and hoping I would stop....I hit him. I started to get bent out of shape over it but was reminded once again that it's just not worth it. Life is so much bigger than a bent up bumper cap and so very much larger than whether a dude failed to wait on me. It could've been much worse. So, I blow it off and move on, thankful we have insurance and so thankful he was kind and pleasant to deal with.

After dealing with that half of the morning I dealt with children's insurance stuff until lunch. I did manage to make it into running apparel today. My feet effortlessly slid into the running shoes that they have not fit in for months now. It felt good just to be able to lace them up once more. But apparently just because you're wearing running gear does not exactly mean you are going to run, as little boys dictated differently. The shoes felt good though. And while the shoes were feeling good the bra was not. I have learned that nursing twins is capable of making a tiny A cup boob...and just for the record I used to be a C before having children. I guess nursing many babies decreases the boob size over the years. So anyway, nursing twins is capable of making an A cup boob expand into a D cup boob. But when your bra only fits a generous size B cup for nursing a babe you run into problems with your D cup boobs in B cup bras. So, after a day's worth of wearing that around and smashing them up I have discovered I desperately need to remedy that issue. My plan for now is to just cram them in there until I can go and get a larger size...not exactly a bad problem to have...except when you know that all of this amazing cuppage is only going to shrivel up and leave them even smaller than before. Oh well. I figure as long as doting husband does not care than I shouldn't either. For now, I'll just revel in the glory of needing a bigger size and being grateful they do have the problem of being jammed up in there. At this point it's about like trying to put 10 lbs of sugar in a 5 lb sack. Assuming they don't just flop out while I run I figure what I have will work for now and I'll just temporarily live with the discomfort until it can be remedied. Anyone can live with a little discomfort for an hour or so. I only need it when I run. The rest of the day is spent in much more comfortable under clothing....unless you wear it all day thinking you're going to go run any minute and never do.

And on the boob note...I was more than a little frustated the other day when despite some pretty great effort the scale is no longer budging in the downward direction. A little exasperated with it all I eventually told adoring husband in which he promptly replied, "Your boobs are probably no less than 10 lbs of that so quit worrying!!" With this thought now implanted within my head I awoke the next morning to rethink his words. As I carried out my morning routine before children awakened I decided to test his words and see if they held any truth. So, I determinedly set the scale on top of the bathroom counter and continued to unleash a boob frmo its confines and weigh it. And words from the wise here on this one...if you are ever in your life tempted to weigh your own boob do not carry this experiment out in front of your bathroom mirror, as it will only serve to confirm the insanity of what you are attempting to do as you watch yourself do it. And if I get really honest I'll humble myself and tell the story in whole, as it does not quite end there.

Being the determined one that I am, when it failed to register I was already on a mission and was going to get an answer. Given the fact the bathroom scale will not register anything less than 10 lbs my little experiment obviously did not work...despite the fact I'd like to think I'm carrying around 20 lbs of boob. So, my mind turned to the fish scale we bought to weigh babies with in order to keep an eye on their growth. Just an ordinary fish scale bought in the hunting/fishing dept of Wal Mart. Little do they know all the uses their fish scale possesses. After purchasing the scale we then made a little receiving blanket into a sling by sewing a metal key ring on each corner. The blanket could then be hooked to the scale in order to weigh the babies it held within...or in this case...the boob it held within. So, out came the fish scale with blanket sling attached. And let it be known that weighing a boob with a fish scale and a sling is not exactly as easy as it sounds....nor is it anywhere even near possible to weigh both at the same time. But I did eventually discover that if you stand on your toes, tilt your head to the left and hold your 4th finger up that one can successfully attempt to weigh one's own boob. It did take some contortions of the body that rival even the greatest of any trapeziest's moves but I managed to get it done....only to disappointingly discover that one boob weighs a mere 3 lbs. That's a total of 6 lbs...assuming they're even....which given their lopsidedness I'm doubting that fact. But, I did ascertain that they were weighed immediately after nursing so a full boob could easily grow to 5 lbs, as 2 lbs worth of milk each side seems reasonable enough. So, it stands that 6-10 lbs of my body weight as of now can be truthfully chalked up to lactating boobs.

And that's not exactly where I anticipated this post going......but, there's all the information you never wanted to know about how to weigh your boobs and what this uneventful day held for us.

Day 1 of the 361 Left

So...I'm just not so into New Year's resolutions....ever. And I'm pretty certain I proclaim that at the beginning of every new year and then contradict myself in the very same post...as I am so doing right now. So, rather than resolutions, I set goals. If you really get down to it, I guess I'm setting some resolutionary goals....and I totally made that word up but it sounded good and it fitfully described the goals. I hate the word and anything that goes along with resolution cause it inevitably means....failure. At least in my book. I usually make it all of 14 days into it before the undying commitment and determination heads south.....WAY south, I fall off the bandwagon and pretty much just chalk it all up to whenever I get around to getting the crap done...be it mid July, end of December or when the kids are 40 and older.




But.....this year is different, as I have a new strategy to wipe out the list. I have set a "theme" a month to get this crap hammered out and accomplished. I'm sure more will come to mind as I begin to hammer out my work list....thus filling up the 12 months of the year...or by the time I actually get around to it they'll fill up the 11 left. And if, by some great miracle, I get on a roll and knock out (gasp) 2 entire things in 1 month then I'll just be that much farther ahead of the game. Sounds reasonable enough....at least in theory anyway. So, I'll list them all out here...as if anybody actually really cares about anyone else's to do list...and then I fully plan on carrying them out...right now, anyway.



Goals of the Year....some are short term, some are more long term and some have an exact number of days. And I'm sure I'll add more as I see what needs to be done.



Goal #1: 31 Days of a Sugar free Life
It is a well known fact that sugar is an addictive substance. For real. And in an effort to just get healthier in general I challenged myself to 31 days of living free from it. I'm not exactly a die hard legalistic so there is balance involved. Pumpkin Spice coffee creamer has sugar in it along with Peppermint Mocha and Coconut Cream...all of which are in my morning diet to stay. My loyal coffee mates are one of the most compelling reasons to wake at ungodly hours and be greeted by only the early morning darkness. There is just nothing like oatmeal and pumpkin coffee after an early winter morning run. There is a great amount of joy to be found in the little things in life....pumpkin coffee and oatmeal are one of them. So, as stated, there will be balance. My main goal is to just cut out the obvious sugary substances, like sweets and desserts. I have well known, late night, warm chocolate chip cookie cravings and late night, warm, chocolate chip cookie cravings are what is keeping my butt the width that it is. Along with the spatial awareness of my butt and the increasing space it occupies I also am doing it for just sheer health and energy levels...cause white sugar and all of the friends it inhabits seems to absolutely sap the energy level. So...butt shrinkage, body shrinkage and health and wellness brings me to the next goal....




Goal #2: To Run and get back to pursuing Health and Wellness
As Dec came and went with mastitis, then bronchitis, then a UTI filling the 1st 3 wks of it coupled with holiday preparations and 2 still fairly new babies the month quickly escaped. So, here I am well and good with the exception of a lone, dry, wheezy cough and I am ready to run again. On my days off I will be doing P90X along with the Columbian booty routine, training with Brad in jiu jitsu and just, in general, getting healthier so I feel better and have the energy needed to keep up with everybody. And I am quite certain that after aggressively rolling around with jiu jitsuing husband for over a week now that I am missing no less than half of my head of hair, my nose has been permanently dislocated and my boobs have been indefinitely deflated. It is now quite apparent that I must improve if I am to survive training with him. But it feels good to be unpregnant and just simply possess the ability to move and pick myself up off the ground, roll over and maneuver the body with a great amount....or somewhat of an amount....of weightlessness. And...there are definitely some fun advantages to training with your husband, being the highly physical, contact sport that it is.

On the weighty end that is not so entirely weightless, I honestly need to drop about another 35-40 lbs or so. Whether that's realistic or not...who knows. But, I do need to at least definitely get down another 25 or so lbs for sure. That said, I'm not really in this to lose the weight as much as I am to like what I see in the mirror, feel good and just be healthy. And after years of struggling with body image I can honestly say that and speak it from the depths of my heart. I'm not opposed to what stares back in the mirror but there's just room for improvement.....as there always is with anything and everything in life. So, along with the running, jiu jitsu and working out I have already begun juicing again and so forth. I plan on outlining my workout routine for each week in a new little box on the sidebar at the bottom of everything else on the right hand side of the page. It'll keep me accountable...to me!





Goal #3: Project 365 Blog
I've seen many budding photographer bloggers use this for 365 days of pictures. I'm going to do it a little differently and do 365...or I guess now 363...days of blogging. It may be as simple as one lone sentence, a picture or two or an entire wordy post but at least I'll make the time for it. And usually when I write one sentence it becomes many. So, we'll just see where it goes. Along with rising early to just sit in the quiet and pray, beginning the day in the presence of the Lord, and run or workout I also am making the time to blog...hopefully in those quiet morning hours. But, to fit all of that in I'm thinking I'd have to rise at 4:00 am so Project 365 Blog may have to fall into the after bedtime/nighttime hours. But...seeing as how its taken me 4 days to write this one post things are not looking very promising on that end. I'll put forth the effort and just see where it leads me.




Goal #4: Get a grip on outside toys
Cleaning out the outside playhouse and toy accumulation to construct the doghouse..which leads to....


Goal #5: The Doghouse
Convert the unused purple playhouse into the new doghouse. I'm thinking Grayson and I are on our own on this one. So, we'll see how far my constructions skills will go.


Goal #6: The Attic
Need I say more?


Goal #7: Decorating the Walls
We have been in this house now for 4 1/2 years and I am humbled to say that it still looks as though we just moved in...kinda. In all of my practicality, sensibility and simplicity I really just like plain walls for the lack of breakability factor along with being less to dust. But then I get the warm fuzzies once a year or so and I yearn for hominess and a warmth that bare walls certainly do not possess. I think of the Amish with their one barnwood framed picture left to decorate their larger homes in its entirety and my simpleness where household decor is somewhat justified. There is definitely much to be said for the "less is more" life mentality.
I've found that those powerful little words pretty much apply to every aspect of life. But, I have visions of our hallway hung with many pictures of all of our children instead of being lavishly decorated with the markers, sharpies and crayons that it is but, reality is, that the one hallway we do possess happens to run the entire length of the house and is the most trafficked and raced through thoroughfare in all of our 1,800 ft of square footage. And given the fact we sport a pier and beam foundation that vibrates and rattles the brain with every thud, stomp or cartwheel it is quite possible that picture hanging would only end in catastrophic earthquake type effects. And I just don't want to tie myself up emotionally with material things that just don't matter. Because when the walls come crashing down so would my sanity, emotions and love for the wall of pictures. And..do I dare even go into the dust factor that frames collect...which just creates yet another to-do on my to-do list...or to add to the children's??? Soooo....as I write I'm actually once more talking myself out this goal of the year project...my picture hallway and lovely wall decor that warm our home. I'm thinking 10 kids are entirely capable of spreading all the warmth we need within our walls....and entirely capable of spreading all the warmth we need upon our walls as well. So, I'll have to rethink that one.

Now...to actually carry this agenda out!