Sunday, March 31, 2013

Don't They Worry About Slivers????

Just a random thought.....

Who decided it was perfect staging to have a couple just up on a table/desk/other flat, hard surface and just go at it? I was just watching Smash and in the closing scene the couple that's been dancing around the "will the or wont they" question for waaaay too many episodes (thankfully not as many as the Ross/Rachel tango) finally seem to be there, then can't actually commit. I was actually emotionally involved enough to want to scream at the dumb guy to open his mouth and quit being such a wuss. Then as soon as all hope is lost, the guy bursts in a kisses the girl and my heart melted and then he threw her on the cluttered kitchen table and.....wait, what??? You mean to tell me that you've expended all this time, effort and emotion in "the chase" and your best move is chucking her on to the closest horizontal surface???? And shame on you, girl who I can't remember your name, for being okay with that (at least I assume she was- I turned it off at that point). Please television writers, we are not mindless robots that don't notice when you pull the same shtick out of the bag that was seen on Days of Our Lives earlier in the afternoon. You should probably assume that at least half of your (very few) viewers have moderate intelligence.

Rant over. I'll go to bed now.

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Raising the Bar

Sadly, this display is not even close to being an all time low in our Easter Basket attempts. Last year the kids woke up to boxes of cereal and 2 liters. And then there was two years ago when I put their "bunny" stuff into left over Walmart bags. The fact that I actually separated their candy into see-through bags AND put their names on them has got to count for something this year. I willingly admit I suck at Easter; sorry kids! Luckily you have awesome grandparents who spoil you rotten!

Horny Cat: Looking For Some "Sex in the City"

So big news around our house. It has been confirmed that Cat is in fact a girl. We know this because she has been whining non stop, and when she's not whining she's rubbing herself on everything and everyone. James googled her behavior and apparently it all screams "I'm in heat. Come get me boys!". Her frequent butt displays are her way of letting off pheromones to mark her territory. I guess James is her territory because she went up to him at least a dozen times, turned around, lifted her tail and displayed that bum to the world. Later she did the same thing to Taylor's BFF so I think Cat is bisexual. She must have felt safe coming out to us because she knows we're Democrats ;)

Anyway, here's the face of the horniest Cat in the city..... Boys (or girls), please don't come get her. She's getting fitted for a chastity belt ASAP.

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Getting old

It is so surreal to get college and university recruitment letters in the mail for Tay almost daily now. How has time gone by so fast??

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Why are we so purty??? This is what happens at 2.5 hour doctor appointments and the ensuing evening at home


Here's a few views of Hunchie aka. Gollum. Tay named it herself so no need to think I'm a terribly mean mom, although I am for many other reasons :) I'm off to take her to yet another appointment, this time with her Pediatrician to see what they found in her blood work. Keep praying for answers!

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Where to start.......

Noah came to me the other morning overly tired and not at all ready to head off to school.  His lack of energy was due, as he explained, to staying up late reading the book form of my blog from years ago.  As he excitedly retold story after story from the blog, I grew ashamed.  How much of our shared history as a family have I neglected to record over the last 18 months?  All the little day-to-day happenings that seem so inane at the time but mean so much when you start to forget how little the kids hands were they struggled to say "motorcycle" correctly (it was noodle cycle- so precious).....the first time they became too cool to kiss you goodbye in front of their friends (6th grade for my oldest son).  Zach is starting 1st grade this summer.  Yes, I said this summer- his school is changing to tracks so for the next 6 years I'll have a child on year round and the other two will be traditional schedules, albeit high school and college schedules in some part.

This is a weird stage in our lives as parents.  We have this elementary age child and then teenagers.  It's almost like two families.  James and I constantly have to remind ourselves that Zach will have so much one on one time with us as he gets older and Tay and Noah move on to college/missions/marriage.  We remind ourselves because it seems like he gets lost so often in the shuffle of his older siblings' busy lives, and it's easy to feel guilty that their needs take precedence over his.  I must say though, I am so overly emotional when it comes to Zach.  Knowing he's my last makes everything he does all that more significant.  He's my last "first day of primary"- my last "first day of Kindergarten".  I'm going to cry a whole lot as all these "lasts" approach.  I love holding his hand.  It's my last "little hand".  I think a child's hand symbolize so much to us as parents: love, complete faith and trust, need, hope, promise.  Watching his hands grow has been one of the hardest things I've done.  I remember those milestones of growth: being able to grab just a finger, then the first time his fingers clasped my hand as he walked by himself.  Watching your kids grow up is equal parts joy and pain.

There's a reason I'm so nostalgic lately....a reason why Noah's musings made me feel so regretful.  We've had some serious things going on in our house the last few weeks.  I want to record them so that in the future I'll be able to remember this time in our life, but then I also want to forget it all as well.  I want to remember how incredible my daughter is.  How her faith surpasses my own and how she's taught me so much.  About how I never knew she had such a strong and unfailing testimony.  About how Patriarchal Blessings are such a gift and a guide.  But I want to forget about just how scared you can feel- scared to your bones and very core- when you don't know what's wrong or how to fix it.  When you are waiting up all night for answers you're not sure you want to get.  When you are so frustrated you want to yell and scream and cry but you have to put this face of serenity and strength because you're the mom and you have to set the tone for how everyone should act.

My daughter is sick.  No one has answers for us.  We are going to our 6th dr. Appointment tomorrow.  Her spine is so swollen we've nicknamed her Gollum. X-rays and MRI's haven't yielded answers.  There was a scary week when they thought it was an inoperable tumor.  Her symptoms have gotten worse as each week passes.  The swelling has moved up her spine and into her neck.  She's losing function in her hands and to a lesser degree, her feet.  She has terrible headaches and nausea.  We pray for answers which we know will come, but are taking time and patience has never been one of my strengths.  I know whatever she has can be overcome- thats the blessing of a Patriarchal Blessing- but we need to know what we're fighting in order to start fighting.   It's been a blessing in some ways: we've spent so much time together as a family, and we've tried to keep everyone close to home.  The boys are kinder to her and their tears in her behalf show just how much they love her.  As a mom, I'm cherishing all the one on one time I'm getting with my almost-adult daughter.  In just a few years, she'll be off to college and I can't imagine the hole that is going to leave in our lives.  Selfishly, I love that she needs me for the first time in her life.  Tay was born an adult and has always been so ferociously independent.  It's nice to have her lean on me and allow me to do little thing like brush her hair, put on her makeup, and hold her while she rests on my bed.  I cannot put into words how much I love this girl, how much I love these children.  Seeing them struggle and hurt is the worst feeling in the world.  Your heart breaks over and over and then somehow repairs itself in time just to feel it break again.  What a glorious torture being a mom is