Misadventures of Silver Linings

Today Is not about my folly; it is about finding the good in our lives. With that in mind, I have decided to find things to be grateful for.

Yes, it's 7 a. m. and I can already hear the children arguing. But, on the plus side, it's 7 a. m. and I don't have to wake the Little Dears up.

Yes, the children have to go to school today. But, on the plus side, I don't have to drive them to school today.

Yes, Utah's bipolar weather has us going through a deep freeze that has caused the temperature in our house to drop to 54 degrees. But, on the plus side, my bed is nice and warm.

Looking over these blessings, they all seem to be pointing me in the same direction. I feel that the only way to truly show my gratitude, and good sense, is to lay back down and pull the covers up to my chin. Nighty, night.

Misadventures of Answered Prayers

My soul felt raw. My inner dialogue was un-publishable. My usually sweet spirit was anything but angelic.

The day had started with Alex throwing up in bed. I had asked Austin to put his clothes in the dryer while I was stripping Alex's bed. I ended up speaking rather sharply to finally get the washer emptied. Things hadn't improved much in the afternoon.

Now 5:00 found me driving down the freeway to take my little monsters to swimming lessons. The lessons weren't for me. I wasn't going to be playing in the pool. Why should I have to do it? You can probably imagine the kind of language that I had been listening to. To tell the truth, if today's lesson hadn't been the last, the little dears would have found themselves without a ride.

As I drove, I came to the conclusion that, if I was going to take the turkeys to swimming in spite of their behavior, then I really needed to stop fuming about it. Having made that very mature decision, I tried to figure out a way to get over my anger. I offered up a little prayer. It was a carefully worded prayer. I didn't pray for better children. I didn't pray for patience, I've heard what happens when people ask for patience. I simply asked for guidance on how to snap out of my funk. I had scarcely finished my prayer when a truck kicked up a rock and put a large crack in my windshield.


Feeling that all of my carefully chosen words had somehow failed me, I felt myself slipping deeper into my bad mood. In my mind (because I was driving), I began writing my little rant. Finding the right words to convey just how ill used I felt really lifted my mood.

 I would not normally go looking for tender mercies in a knicked windshield. However, I came to the realization that trying to find something funny to say about my windshield was probably the only thing that could have brightened my day. The Lord does work in mysterious ways.

Misadventures of the Daily Grind

You know that blissful moment between wakefulness and sleep? This morning found me in such a happy place, lying on the beach of imagination, fully aware of the fact that today is NOT TUESDAY. Thursday is such a nice day; Thursday has no carpools, no responsibility, no need to be anywhere except where I want to be; Thursday would never hurt anybody.


Suddenly, I heard feet thundering down the boardwalk. Wait a minute, there is no boardwalk on the beach of imagination. Trust me; if I'm going to imagine a beach, it would be a private beach, no boardwalk necessary. After the intrusion of the thundering feet on the boardwalk, I slowly became aware that the sound of screeching seagulls was, in fact, the squealing of little children. And, the saddest realization of all, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore was actually the sound of the toilet being flooded, thus causing the thundering feet on the boardwalk and the squeals of the gulls children.

TUESDAY! My great and worthy adversary! I thought that there was a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven, that YOU must stay in your weekly time slot. As I refuse to believe that anything bad can happen on a day that is not TUESDAY, I must own that I am not as awake as I initially believed. As I lay back down on the beach of imagination, I put my sunglasses back on. But, this time, I make sure that they are complete with a funny nose and mustache. TUESDAY will never find me now!

Misadventures of a Broken Commandment

This morning found me singing a cheerful good morning song to try to rouse my sleepy minions and declaring what a glorious day we were bound to have. Five minutes before this happy morning ritual, I was in bed using very abusive and near unpublishable language as my alarm tried to rouse sleepy me. At least five days a week finds me putting on my "Good Morning" face to try and start our day on the right foot (as opposed to the left foot?). Today, as my little children gave me their usual morning grumbles, I thought about what a hypocrite I am, singing and being cheerful when I really wanted to throw my alarm out the window.

It reminded me of something that I read on facebook Christmas morning. In reference to a post that Snopes made about Santa, many negative comments were made. This direct quote sums up those negative comments, "For me, lying to children is one of the most disgusting things an adult can do to them. Be the example you wish your children to be." Being guilty of perpetuating the Santa story and realizing that I was lying to my children every morning with my delightful demeanor, I began wondering about what other deceptions I am guilty of. No, Michelle, I wasn't delighted with my new hair color. Though, I am getting used to it. No, Bishop, I wasn't grateful for the opportunity to speak in sacrament meeting. No, Erika, I didn't "get" the joke you made up. No, Children, I don't think going to the dentist is a fun adventure. No, my Sweet Little Girl, I do not find this terribly long story to be totally riveting. And, Alex, I am not, in fact, a tickle monster. Boy, it's true what they say, "Confession is good for the soul."

Misadventures of My Personal Ad

My folly this time is thinking through my actions before completing them. Though, if I hadn't thought this through, who knows what the consequences would have been.

My Personal Ad:
Looking for a good home for a Never Removed From Box 29 year old.

Legal: Unfortunately, the previous claims are so spurious that we are unable to print them.

My Revised Personal Ad:
Seeking a good home for a former 29 year old in mint condition.

Legal: Ahem

My New Revised Personal Ad:
Former 29 year old in gently used condition needs a good home.

Legal: Gently Used?

My Next New Revised Personal Ad:
Slightly worn, former 29 year old is looking for a safe haven to rest her weary head.

Legal: We wash our hands of this.

My Amended Next New Revised Personal Ad:
Help! Someone get me out of here!

Legal: We apologize for what has obviously been the rantings of a slightly unhinged mind. This is, undoubtedly, the result of someone grounded on a lovely summer day.

Misadventures of Motherhood

Recently, a friend of mine has been posting some of her thoughts on what Motherhood means to her. It has gotten me thinking about what Motherhood means to me. Should I lead off with the tender moments, or maybe the grotesque? Perhaps I should start with the monotonous? or the unpredictable? the laughter? the tears? Where to begin? Pondering on that question brings me to my first thought:

Motherhood is a whirlwind often going from one extreme to another(and sometimes back again) within seconds.

Motherhood is snuggling a sick child, feeling so much love, and then having that child throw up all over you. Motherhood is bravely snuggling the child again and having them say, "Mom, you make me feel better."

Motherhood is making perfectly rational statements and then realizing that you have used words that have no business going together in this world or the world to come. For example, "Why is there mayonnaise on the vacuum cleaner?" "If I catch you eating Jello powder in bed one more time..." or my personal favorite, "Who put toothpaste on the cat?"

Motherhood is reading Dr Suess so many times that you find yourself speaking in rhymes.

Motherhood is the tragic day that your children don't want to read Dr Suess anymore.

Motherhood is talking to your old friends, with whom you used to have important conversations about boys and evil math teachers, and discussing which PBS shows are educational and which are just annoying.

Motherhood is trying to come up with words to use instead of "why". You may be wondering to what point and purpose Katie is trying to stop using "why". A few conversations with my 3 year old should clear up any questions on that issue.

Motherhood is .......having to take a break from your blog because someone wants to 'nuggle you.

Motherhood is preparing to yell because you tripped on a pair of shoes, only to discover that they are your shoes.

Motherhood is knowing the fastest way to the bathroom in any given place. (this one actually starts during pregnancy, it just never goes away)

Motherhood is a laundry cup full of dandelions because the children know that you love yellow flowers.

Motherhood is discovering a great series of books with your children.

Motherhood is wondering why you have to have the same conversations at least three or four times per week.

Motherhood is reliving your childhood, and not in a good way, and realizing that you don't have any more solutions to give your child than you had for yourself.

Motherhood is reliving your childhood in the best ways and discovering the joy of discovering.

Motherhood is trying to put thought into things that you do automatically in an effort to teach your children how to do them.

Motherhood is discovering the adventure in things. For example: The sprinklers you drove by that were crossing to form an X must indicate the location of buried treasure. Grocery stores are great places to play spies. A mess-monster that is threatening the castle is more likely to be cleaned up than a dirty family room.

Motherhood is thinking that if you hear "What if..." one more time you'll be driven into the assylum.

Motherhood is swelling with pride at preschool graduations.

Motherhood is packing a suitcase for a trip to the grocery store.

Motherhood is shouting, "Will you please stop making all of that noise?!"

Motherhood is seeing the boy that you dated and fell in love with walking down the hall with a child on his back and one on each leg and really knowing what love is.

Motherhood is tucking sleepy heads into bed with rituals that belong to each child and then sneaking back for one last kiss.

Motherhood is never knowing whether you should scold, cry, or laugh out loud.

Motherhood is the relief on my readers faces as I cut my thoughts off to go be a Mother.

Misadventures of Hearing Voices

I suppose my folly this time is an overactive imagination. With four children, I have at least two people speaking to me at any given time. I frequently find myself trying to sort through two (or three or four) long (and yes, usually pointless) stories punctuated by frequent shouts of, "Hey, I was talking first".

During such an occasion yesterday, I found myself thinking of how wonderful it would be to have an answering service. I think it would go something like this:

"You have reached Mom's Answering Service.

To express LOVE, please press 1

To express APPRECIATION, please press 2

To offer SERVICE, please press 3

To leave a COMPLIMENT, please press 4

If you need a hurt KISSED better, please press 5

If you want a story read to you, please press 6

If you want to be TUCKED In, please press 7

If you are bringing an eye patch to be put on, please press 8

If you want to show Mom a picture you made, please press 9

If you want to TATTLE on someone, please hang up and call Grandma

If you want something done, please hang up and call Daddy

If you want to whine, please hang up and call Dr Phil

If there is a mess to clean up, please hang up and clean it yourself.

If you want your diaper changed or your bottom wiped, you have definitely reached this recording in error.

If you want to tell an insanely long story, please hold .................and hold............and hold.............and hold............and hold........and hold.......and hold.........and hold.............

Misadventures of Sunday Morning

My folly this time lies in the fact that I'm unable to hold onto a thought long enough to bring it to fruition.

A few Sundays ago, as I got ready for church, I realized that my nylons had holes in them. I put on a skirt long enough to cover the runs and made a mental note to go get some during the week. After church, I left the holey nylons sitting on top of the dresser to remain as a constant reminder that I needed to replace them. A few days later, as I was walking out of my bedroom to go to the store, I tossed them into the trash knowing I was on my way to replace them. Unfortunately, the free cookies in the bakery and the other wonders of Target filled my imagination with such delights that mundane things like nylons were quickly driven out.

When Sunday rolled around again, as I got ready for church, the nylons were brought back forcibly to my mind. Oh, no! I had forgotten to buy my nylons. Wait, I could just get the others out of the bedroom trash, it's not like they would be covered by kitchen waste. Alas, Rick had emptied the bedroom trash can only the day before. What could I do? I could go out to the garbage can, couldn't I? If he'd only dumped it the day before then it wouldn't be covered by too much stuff. Thankfully, the mental picture of one of my neighbors on their way to church noticing my feet sticking out of my garbage can was enough to keep me from Sabbath Dumpster Diving. Thank Goodness for long skirts and sandals.

Misadventures of Early Morning

Instead of sharing my folly this time, I would like to share my deep, dark secret. People who know me know that I have four children. What is not commonly known is that I have a fifth child that I have to deal with. I try not to take her out in public, because she can be a bit of an embarrassment to me. Her name is Cricket. She looks a lot like Erika, but behaves a lot like Nicole. I think that, most of the time, she is about three or four years old. She is, of course, my inner child. I can't remember my psychology courses well enough to remember if the term for her is "ego" or "id". To me she is just "Cricket". She can be a lot of fun (she's responsible for the dictionary listed below in "TUESDAY Confusion"). She can also be a bit of a brat, throwing tantrums, sulking, stomping her feet, and, when she's really angry, refusing to talk to me at all. I am introducing her now because of an interesting conversation that we had this morning.

Katie:"The alarm went off. 5:00, Time to get up."
Cricket: "It's only 5:00. I don't want to get up."
Katie: "We need to get up and exercise."
Cricket: "My head hurts."
Katie: "Our head always hurts. That didn't stop us from going bowling last week."
Cricket: "But I don't feel good."
Katie: "It's 5 a.m., we're not supposed to feel good."
Cricket: "If you let me stay in bed, I promise that I'll do it later."
Katie: "It's Tuesday. You know we won't have time to do it later. If you get up now, we'll just do Level 1."
Cricket: "That's not true. You always say I only have to do Level 1, but when I get done, you always make me do Level 3, too."
Katie: "Once we finish Level 1, you usually don't mind moving onto Level 3."
Cricket: "But it's only 5:30. It is too early!"
Katie: "That's the best time to do it. If we do it early, we'll be done for the whole day."
Cricket: "That's not true. It's TUESDAY. You'll make me stay busy all day."
Katie: "That's why we have to get up and do it now."
Cricket: "But it's cold in the room."
Katie: "We'll only be cold for a minute. Once we get started, we'll warm right up."
Cricket: "But We're warm right now."
Katie: "Yes, we are warm right now."
Cricket: "And Our bed is so comfortable."
Katie: "It is comfortable, but....."
Cricket: "And it's 6:00. We don't have time to do Level 3 and Level 1."
Katie: "That's true. I don't think that we would be able to do both."
Cricket: "And You don't want to just do Level 1. You're supposed to be doing Level 3, You know."
Kate: "6:00 would be too early to go out to the family room and we can't do Level 3 in here."
Cricket: "If You wait a little bit longer, You can go out to the family room and do Level 3. Then it won't matter if You wake up the kids."
Kate: "That's true. It would be better to wait a few more minutes."
Cricket: "And Our bed is so warm and comfortable."
Kate: "Hmmmm, it is warm and comfor ......zzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

Because we had already turned our alarm off, we over-slept and the real children almost missed the bus.

Misadventures of Tuesday Confusion

My folly this time is in using terms that make perfect sense to me, but apparently not to everyone else. Since I found myself explaining some of the terminology to Rick today, I've decided to write a small dictionary.

Home Chickens: Sort of the opposite of a Free Range Chicken. We are people who are at home. I don't find myself in that position very often anymore.

Laundry Quest: A very exciting game that involves the children gathering up their own laundry and sorting it to be washed. There is not much more to it than that. Announcing "Laundry Quest" usually gets much more action than telling the children to go get their laundry. There is, on occasion, a small reward for the winner of "Laundry Quest".

Laundry Espionage: Much more exciting than "Laundry Quest". "Laundry Espionage" is the process of getting favorite sheets or blankets washed and put back into position before the owner realizes what you have done. This game requires stealth and ingenuity. This game was invented with Nicole in mind. Nicole has very strong objections to having her favorite sheet washed. She says washing it makes it feel wrong. Alex also benefits from this game, though, thankfully I have four of his favorite blanket(s) so it easier to accomplish.

Clean-a-thon: Pretty self-explanatory. Clean-a-thon is the game we play (and by "we" I mean "I") when there is a lot of housework to be done and very little enthusiasm for the project. This game involves setting the timer for 10 minutes of housework, followed by 10 minutes of rest/play and so on. I can on occasion get the kids involved with this because of the fun timer aspect. I think that this game might be more successful if I came up with a better name.

Shoe Shuffle: This is the exciting "game" of trying to find two matching shoes (per child). I try to encourage "Shoe Shuffle" at night because playing in the morning makes us late. Because of my recent refusal to "play", there have been a few occasions where a child has had to wear mismatched shoes or in the case of dance, only one shoe.

Mary Poppins: A sometimes successful game, "Mary Poppins" involves setting the timer for five or ten minutes and letting each child have a turn playing Mary Poppins. Because we can't snap and magically make things put themselves away, those of us who aren't having our turn being Mary Poppins act as the magic. We put the things away that get snapped at.

Tuesday Warrior/Mama Warrior: Because of my never-ending battle with TUESDAY, every week we pick sides, whether to be a Tuesday Warrior or a Mama Warrior. A Tuesday Warrior helps Tuesday to defeat me. I have been defeated if I am reduced to tears or if I find myself hiding in the closet or writing a blog entry with the door locked. A Mama Warrior works hard to make my day go smoothly. The children assure every TUESDAY that they are Mama Warriors, however, their loyalties have been known to change.

Parental Chicken: The game that Rick and I play when we are both doing our own thing, such as reading or playing computer, and someone is crying or something needs be be done. Whoever gets up and attends to the needs of the family first loses. I lose at "Parental Chicken" at least nine out of ten times, I always flinch first.

Vacuum Tag: The game of vacuuming while the children(usually a toddler) run away squealing, either with joy or terror.