darth vader was in the mini van in front of me today. while i was dropping the kids off at school. you know, the vader in the last movie (the original last). the guy who took on those bad guys with the red robes and the static electricity emperor. he got all beat up and had luke take off his helmet. THAT vader was driving a mini van in front of me. he was talking on a cell phone. probably talking about something on the death star. really, i know it probably wasn't him. that movie is like, 30 years old. and didn't luke burn him anyway? he took him back to the planet with the fuzzy little teddy bears, and made a big bonfire with a plastic dead guy, and some ghosts show up. i totally know my star wars.

he was driving so slow though. really slow, like he was dead already. and talking on that cell phone. i sat there for a good 5 minutes waiting for his little lukes and leias to all get out of their mini van, because mine wouldn't get out until i moved one more spot up in the line. and the bell had already rung, but they were all sitting there.

maybe darth was giving them last minute instructions to take over the school. maybe they were just having a bad morning, and were missing shoes and jackets and the baby was crying because he left his percy train home. maybe darth was bending his elbow the wrong way, trying to tie the shoes of his 5 year old, who just can't figure out how to tie his shoes even though he's tried to teach him so many times. darth was probably signing permission slips and last minute checks and shoving them in his kids backpacks.

maybe darth just knew what was waiting at home. darth has a headache that he's had for 2 days. the 2 year old, who was screaming, was up all night, and he knows that it's gonna be a rough day. in fact, he knows that the innocent kid will be into everything. like the dishwasher, pulling out the dirty dishes and then screaming when darth shuts it. the 2 year old will probably scream for something to drink, and when you get it for him, will either dump it out, or scream for something else. the 2 year old will most likely roll out the entire roll of toilet paper. he will most likely eat the dog food himself. and probably sneak outside through the dog door and find a way into the chicken coop. or maybe darth just doesn't want to do all that laundry, or clean up the soggy cereal. or step on legos. or clean up the bathrooms. maybe luke is terrible at aiming and the toilets are disgusting. he probably just wants to sit in the van, talking on the phone, taking a break for a minute.

of course, i don't blame him. i completely understand. but the problem is, i need to get home to do all that stuff, and he's just sitting there. looking all mouldy and beat up. and bald. and i'm waiting for his kids to exit the van. my kids are yelling, so he really should hurry up and get out of the spot so that my kids will exit. besides, there are 10 vans behind me, and i can't move until he does. and i don't think the vans behind me realize who it is in front of me. i can see in my mirror they keep giving me dirty looks, like they have some toilet sanitizing they can't wait to get to.

i can't honk at the vader guy. i mean, it's darth vader. he can strangle you with a glance. he has the force. he flies space ships. he's totally in charge of the death star. everyone is in awe and in fear of him. and he's talking on his phone, it would be so rude if i honked.

5 minutes, which in school time, is like an infinity. in screaming toddler time, 5 minutes is even longer.

a day at the zoo

taco and i went to the zoo last week for a field trip. big d was really cool and stayed home with fussy. it was cold and miserable.

so we made up for it today. i took the kids after early out school, and we headed down to big d's work, and then to the zoo.

it was a beautiful day. it was good to be out and with the kids. fuss learned to say gorilla and rhinoceros. it kills me how old he is. and between whining about how tired they are, the boys enjoyed themselves. we've been sick for so long, that it felt great to be doing something other than coughing at each other.

sick

it's not so much the fact that i'm sick
it's what happens when i am

things don't get done
like dinner
and grocery shopping
and bathing the dog
and spending the time upright
and blogging
and running
and making lunches
and staying awake, even during the middle of the day


the things that do get done
lots and lots of movies have been watched
including star trek. almost all of them.
and i think i slept through all of them
and lots and lots of thomas the train
and lots of eating of weird things
and lots of kids making messes
and lots of unsupervised kids
and lots of fighting and name calling and screaming
while both big d and i were trying to stay awake

and while i didn't go for the flu shot this year,
i'm still pissed that i got sick.

check it out

i know this really cool girl, and on her blog, she is giving away some uber cool scentsy stuff. all you need to do is go over there and leave a comment, easy-peasy.

did i mention she is cool? and she is fun too. i should know, i spent a couple of days with her last summer when i thought running up hills was a good idea. so if you haven't left yet, go now....

the un eaten, half eaten cookie

it sits there on the pantry shelf
looking at me

some little hands found it
2 bites were taken
the cookie was then rejected

they put it back on the shelf
not in the box
but sitting alone
cold and naked on the pantry shelf

waiting for me

do i want that cookie?
should i give in to the guilt of leaving a cookie
sitting alone on the shelf?

no

i shall eat the cookie
it's better to not waste
when there are starving people in africa
when there is famine across the world
it's like my own little food storage
sitting alone
on the shelf
nobody else wants it
they left it there
because someone took 2 bites

and also
it's a girl scout cookie
and they only come once a year

a lesson from those punks on capitol hill

or whoever it is that decides this whole "daylight savings" thing.

first off, i'm not a fan. well...i'm not a fan right now. give me time to adjust to the fact that my brain isn't quite awake an hour before i usually get up. i know i'll be grateful for the extra hour during the summer, but right now...hmmm not so much. then again, i've really accomplished quite a bit today...

i was thinking about it though, this whole "messing with time" thing is really quite amazing. it's like the power of God or something. here we are, regularly it would only be 2 in the afternoon, but now it's actually 3, and time to go get kids from school, and get dinner started and all that jazz. that is why those punks do this. just another example of absolute power corrupting absolutely. of course, during the day, it seems i've got so much more done!

then again, what if i could do this myself? what if i could change my clocks to 15 minutes ahead of schedule and get my body used to that? i'd never be late to church. i'd always pick up the kids on time, i'd have dinner ready and waiting. i'd have so much more time in my day. i wonder what would happen if i did a half hour early? or even better, an HOUR. of course, i'd be really early dropping the kids off for school, but i could again get so much more done!

okay, realistically, it's not going to happen. it's nice to dream though. i will leave my clocks all set randomly a bit early and call it good. maybe i'll even go to bed earlier and try to wake up earlier? yeah, right...

a first, and a couple of seconds of panic...

it is inevitable. in the joy of raising children there are a few moments of terror. like the time you lost the baby in the mall, or when he runs out into the street chasing a ball. then there are moments of just panic, like the slipping down the stairs, or shoving something up their nose.

yesterday was such a day for us. it wasn't the terror, it was the panic. it was the first time in my career as a mom, that i had to find something shoved up my baby's nose. it was a popcorn kernel shoved innocently up the nose of my 2 year old.

he started crying out to me, pointing at his nose and saying "paw-corn". my heart jumped a bit. i immediately thought of my niece who had once shoved popcorn up her nose, only to have it sprout a couple of days later. not wanting a plant growing out of my sons face, i decided to take a look. i saw the offending kernel sitting just at the precipice of his sinus, on the edge of floating into outer darkness.

i knew if screamed, or sucked too hard in, it would be gone, and we would be at the insta care handing over cash and holding him down. this is the point i refused to panic. but i did anyway. i found the nose sucker thing, and prayed that he would let me suck it right out. i tried to keep fussy calm, but at this point of seeing the dreaded nose sucker, he started crying. maybe the tears would help make the nose a little more slippery? i wasn't sure, but i was hoping that if i kept him upright, gravity would help. and it did. i sucked it out 3 times. on the third i saw the dangling little kernel just begging for me to pull it out. and it did. i slid my finger down his nose and out it popped. there is a first time for everything. and this truly was it. you wouldn't think that it would be almost 9 years of being a mommy until i had this problem.

thank goodness it was that easy. thank goodness the nose sucker was handy. and thank goodness i didn't completely lose my cool. like i have, so many other times...

i was lying on the couch this morning, just feeling really crappy, when i turned on pbs kids. (we don't get cable)

i was confused by this show. even through half open eyes, i felt a little disturbed by the gang here. let's forget the over sized heads for a minute and lets take a count. cute latino girl...check. super hero boy...check. other girl...check. pig boy....che...what?

is anybody else concerned about a pig joining up with a bunch of kids? what does this mean? it's true, i'm tired, but i don't get this show.

then there was this one, that came on right after:

i was even more tripped out. i mean, the words are walking around talking. did these animators take acid? or am i really THAT tired? and this is supposed to encourage reading? i was frightened. really frightened.

there are also these guys. i don't even know what they are, but they were a book, so that is okay? did anybody ever question the author writing about various rodents as people. some even look a little too human. or like celebrities. if that isn't creepy, i'm not sure what is.

and lets not forget

because that right there is just wrong. and he loves all little children. does he secretly take them in the back and eat them? just sayin'.

i think i might just have needed to stick in that stupid cars movie we've seen 1.5 million times. of course i have issues with that too. like why do they have doors? how do baby cars come into the world (is that the reason for cars doors)? and how do they do things without hands? just tires? and those eyes are just eerie...

all that aside, i guess these are much better than the uber creepy veggie tales. i can say, if i were to just listen, it would be a lot better than seeing the creepy appendage-less, talking, gospel spouting veggies.

and we wonder why t.v. is so bad for our children...

monday....

if you are mormon, you know the rhyme

"saturday is the day you get ready for sunday"...or something like that. i'm not a good mormon.

well, i think i want to add another one


"monday is the day you start planning for friday"

it just so happens that the weekend is about 4 days too short. how on earth am i supposed to get all i should get done, in 2 measly days? especially when one of those days is devoted to NOT doing work? it's like a little paradox of time/work/chores. the day of rest defiantly is not a restful day, yet, it seems it has nothing to show for it, besides trashing the house. yet again the laundry is smelling, the dog needs fed, the dishes have piled up, and the baby is running wild. (he always runs wild, so it's not just a monday thing). the floors are sticky, the carpets need freshening, and the baby just dumped a cup of water all over (he was chasing the dog). the boys rooms' are full of wrappers, the bathrooms need wiped down (with a hose) and the beds need changing. the walls have hand prints, finger prints and paw prints. and the lights are dusty.

only 4 more days 'till friday.

the really hard thing about raising three boys

besides the comments
the stares
the feeling of inadequacy
all the toilet issues
the mess
the lack of concentration
all the innapropriate sounds
the smelly-ness
the can't-sit-still ness
the overwhelming color of blue


is the fact that they all want the same toy. and it can't be divided in 3.

letting them go

mornings with school children can be crazy. this was no exception. we were rushing to get out the door. i was handing harry his backpack, and shooing taco to the van. fussy started fussing, and i reached down to pick him up as i was descending down the stairs in the garage. i picked him up because i knew it would quiet him, and since it takes him forever to go down the stairs, to the van, and to his seat by himself, i prefer to actually get to school on time.

i went down the cement stairs. it just so happens that the act of picking fussy up, threw off my balance. as i was twisting and trying to save my landing, i found out that an extra 25 pounds on my left hip really didn't help at all. in fact that 25 pounds is precious to me, and as i was trying to save him from cracking his head on the concrete floor, he actually did crack his head on the concrete floor. along with my left elbow and my left knee. and my pride.

fussy was half in my arms screaming. of course he was, he just smacked his head on the dirty garage cement. i was pissed because i was hurting too. i knew my elbow was going to bruise, and i knew my knee was hurt. however injured i was, it was time to go to school. so holding fussy, we got up and took the kids to school.

i was thinking about it later while i was running. with every step, my knee throbbed, not because i had messed it up, but because i had skinned it, and my pants were chaffing the raw skin. with every throb, i kept thinking of my blunder, and wondering what i should have done.

i mean, we've all done that. we've all missed the bottom step. even more so, we've probably all done it with a child in our arms. i kept wondering if i hadn't picked him up, but took his hand instead, or if i dropped him as i was falling...he might have just dropped to his butt and therefore not hit his head, and i could have regained my balance.

it makes you think. sometimes we work so hard to protect our kids, that in the end, we end up hurting them more. and we come out worse for it as well.

i've felt that way a lot, like my butt has hit the ground. or that i have been dropped. but i do know that the more we let go, the more our kids have to grow (or in my case, actually walk to the van). i guess it's really all a balancing act between knowing when to make them walk, and knowing when to carry them along. i do find that the times that i carry them, are for my own selfish reasons. it seems a little walking is the best parenting a parent can do.

we are all fine. a goose-egg appeared for a couple of minutes, and his name IS fussy, but he is now his normal sweet fussy self. even though i am paid and training for my race this summer, i don't have a good enough injury to actually stop me running, even if i wanted too.

letting it go

when i was in high school, i had big ambitions. most of which did not involve shuttling kids to and from school, changing runny diapers, or fixing daily meals that have lost all spark. my goals and desires were much broader, much more interesting, and i though, much more realistic.

and then i grew up a just a little bit. i met big d. we met while i was doing something to take me to those goals, or ambitions. even though, at the time, i wasn't really sure that it was what i wanted. i still held on to that dream. even after we were married, and i knew it wasn't feasible, with making money, taking care of a house, and just being a married person, i still held onto those dreams.

my fantasies would resurface every couple of months. i would daydream about becoming a famous actor. months would go by and i'd day dream about being an artist, or maybe a writer. more months would go by, and i would dream about other things. mostly coinciding when i felt i wasn't being true to myself.

as i added kids, the months sort of stretched into years. most of those old dreams and desires still pop up every now and again. instead of detailed fantasies, it's just daydreams. i'd think about what i'd be doing if i were famous. definitely not changing diapers. definitely not running on a crappy treadmill in a basement that floods regularly.

instead of planning out a real plan of how to go back to school, i think about what would happen to my kids if i did right now. instead of thinking about doing more shows, i think about making dinner.

i really feel like i've lost a big part of who i am. who are we, but what we dream about, right? even though i know that isn't all the way true. i know that a bigger part of who i am now, is a result of all the choices i made. all the decisions that took me from that person who did theater, who dreamed of taking the acting for film class, to being discovered...to the person who does wipe the snotty noses, who is perfectly content to snuggle on the sofa watching a movie with my kids.

when the day dreams simmer to the top, i feel a little sad. it is hard to let go of that. because it really was part of who i was. a really big bossy part. but now it's not. as if i can look back and see myself as a stranger. if the me from now, bumped into myself 10 years ago, i wouldn't recognize myself. on most days, that is totally fine.

occasionally i have a sad day. when those days pop up, it seems my kids becomes extra nice, extra sweet, extra worth it. i don't know if it is them or if it is me, seeing them in an different way, making my choices worth it. all i do know is that it does make it worth it. it does make it easier to let it go, and become really who i am now. to embrace the older and wiser me. and in a way, i wonder if i bump into myself in 10 years, if i will know exactly who i am.

pinewood derby #1

the first of many, i'm sure.

a sampling of the cars:

a sampling of the kids

grumpy boy #3

watching the cars come down the track

the little brother who cries because his brother's car lost

grumpy boy #1

showing off that priceless smile

this kid is crazy

okay, okay, not crazy, really. just wildly inventive and imaginative.

anyway, after a resurfacing of kid dvd's that were once hidden (you know, to save a little bit of sanity on my end) this kid has been ....well....this....

yes, that is electrical tape holding his mask on. and yes, those are pajamas from this christmas, 2 years ago.

my favorite beatle gets a shave

harry before:

he had not had a hair cut for months. i loved it long and shaggy. thanks to doing the show and all that, we kept it growing. he finally got sick of it and begged for a trim.

and then after:

it's amazing what a haircut can do. he looks so much older to me, and way more serious. and yet, he reminds me of my brother...

plugged in

i was getting the pictures off the camera, when i found these. it's fussy, watching a movie on his brother's new mp3 player. i guess we teach them young at our house.

meemer's thought for the day.

life is like a set of never ending rolling hills. i'd say it was like a roller coaster, but that is so overdone. so rolling hills it is.

anyway, on our hill journey, we come to valleys and vistas. each with their own set of problems. i for one hate the journey to the top as much as i hate actually running up hills. yet we still have to do them, right. like being pregnant for 9 months. it's killer when you want the baby right now.

and of course the drive to the bottom is always faster with gravity as our help.

and running down hill isn't as easy as i once thought. truly, on the wasatch back race i did last year, one of the hardest parts, besides puking and not sleeping, was running down that hill. most likely because my chest was full of baby milk and any sort of jiggling was torture...but i digress

back to the hills and valleys of life.

you never know REALLY where you are. it good be a great hill, or a great valley. you can't compare the future, ya know? so you have to take each day as it comes and hope you are getting the best part. and when it sucks, like today does for my family, then i have to assume that the once thought hill is really a big deep valley. but it works, right?

it's like throwing my shirt over the display on the treadmill, sometimes it's good not to know how close to the bottom we are. or how far from the top. sometime we are just trying to enjoy the downhill as much as the uphill. hoping that we can get a minute to take in the view every once in a while.

it's not the snow
nor the cold
nor the lack of sun

it's not the wind
nor the rain
nor the dead yellow grass

it's not the inside days
nor the outside toys
laying helpless under the snow

it's just that i want to go outside for a run

so maybe it is the sun
and the grass
and the toys outside

maybe it is the rain
and the snow
and the slippery roads

maybe it is pure and simple
just the fact
that winter sucks

it's long
and lonely
and boring
and slow
and full of snow

and i'm stuck inside
on my treadmill

super human

the thermometer read 45 degrees today at 11am. i fixed 4 bike tires and a jogger stroller. and off we went.

do you know how hard it is to run when you are constantly watching for two boys who haven't ridden a bike all winter?

we stopped a lot. to look at weeds, ice puddles, dog poop, and other assorted things. we stopped even more than i do when i am on the treadmill, and they interrupt every half mile or so. taco at one point mentioned he MUST have superpowers because he was going so fast. (by the way, he was also wearing his spiderman costume)

it was a lot more fun. it was fun to see them feed the horses. it was fun to see them working really hard to speed past me. and it was fun to watch taco pull into the driveway, thoroughly exhausted from peddling for over 6 miles.

it's inspiring to see them do more, or go beyond, what they think they can. i felt bad for pushing them that last mile. i know we could have walked back home. but i kept them going. i kept telling them it was a shortcut and we'd be home in a couple of minutes. maybe it looks bad on me, although, i can tell you, that when i told them they just went over 6 miles, they looked pretty much amazed. like they can do anything. i think it is a great lesson for them, and for me.

yes, son, you really do have superpowers.

everyday i come to my blog. almost every day i try to think of something worth while to blog about. since i decided to take a break, i haven't been able to have one good blogging thought come into my head.

it's weird how that works. because i wasn't really consistent, and i blogged about a bunch of lame things. but now, lame doesn't even pop into my head.

the first week, i had a couple of thoughts, mostly grumpy ramblings. but now, nothing. it's like the inner blogger has been silenced. or maybe i'm just tired.

i guess it's like doing math homework, the more consistent you are, the better your brain works. hopefully if i get back into the swing of things, i can remember why i started this whole thing anyway.

as for the news:

fussy did turn two. and i need a new name for him. maybe something like "stinky", because he always is. maybe "yes-he-is-still-nursing" or maybe "terror of his brothers". maybe "doesn't sleep through the night yet".

his birthday was lame too. not only did we have a party planned and bought for, he came down with this really crappy sick that prevented sleep, cleaning, or fun family gatherings. he did get a present, but i didn't wrap it. i just sort of threw it at him during a temper tantrum.

now i have his cold, and his sunny disposition.

as for the rest of us, the big boys are still off track. meaning they are fighting hourly, messing up the house, and begging for food. that is about to end though, with the beginning of next week. and then i can go back to the quiet house for at least a couple of hours during the day. (and the three trips to the school)

and curse the groundhog. i am still praying for an early spring.