Writing Every Day

It's time for me to face the fact that I'll be far more successful journaling online than I have ever been on paper.  As part of my continuing effort to do SOMETHING that will be here tomorrow, to show for today, I'm making it a goal to blog daily.  I apologize in advance for over-sharing and run-on sentences.  Possibly also for excessive use of parenthesis and dashes and ellipses.

We had friends over for supper tonight and they were kind enough to bring the food, so all we had to do was be presentable.  We failed  a bit.  The air conditioner/furnace went out on us today, and we spent all day scrambling to find a temporary fix. I should mention that it has been in the very upper 90s for a week and will be at least that hot for a week more.

 Our guests arrived just as Toby was trying to rinse the dirt out of a borrowed AC window unit and dropped it, slashing his fingers on the sheet metal housing.  Our dining room table was covered with debris from when he brought the beast into the house, only to realize it was dirty and take it out again.

I was standing in the bathroom, putting on makeup when he stepped into the room with an ominous look on his face and a towel wrapped around his hand.  That is never a good sign.  He said he'd cut his fingers up and maybe broken the air conditioner, too.  I calmly finished putting on my makeup because freaking out wouldn't have helped much.  Besides, if we were going to have to get it stitched, I didn't want to look like white trash.  I contemplated if our guests were going to be willing to watch kids for us if we had to visit the Emergency Room.

Luckily, it was just a flesh wound.  One that made me cringe to look at.  In fact, my toes are curling now writing about it.  As a woman who married a man who does lots of manly dangerous sharp and hurty things, I should be used to it.  Three months before we were married, he lopped the corners off two of his fingers in a power miter box building houses with his dad.  He once mangled the pad of his thumb enough that I'm not sure there's a fingerprint left on it.  What I'm trying to say is that Toby is used to getting hurt, and seeing blood.  

All was well with some super glue holding the wound shut.  No ER visit today. We managed to take a deep breath and enjoy supper and a visit. Now it's bedtime, and the AC in the dining room window is happily whirring away.  Somewhere, our electric company is smiling.

This is the last time?

A couple of weeks ago, we were visiting at my parents' house.  I was sitting in the recliner when Hollis came in the door, crying.  He climbed into my lap, all sweaty and dusty.  When I asked him what happened, he managed to get out that he'd been riding in the jeep while Ivy drove, and he stood up and she gunned it, so he fell out.

He must have landed pretty hard, because I couldn't remember the last time the boy had come to me for comfort, or openly wept.  I held him in my lap, and it only took a few minutes for him to settle down.

I looked at him, all long bones and pointy elbows and knees.  Before I was ready, I could feel his body switch from "little-boy snuggle" mode to "I feel awkward that Mom's holding me in her lap" mode.  I wondered if it was the last time he'd come to me like a little boy.  I hope he'll still want to be comforted by his mom, even when he's older.

On a somewhat lighter note, what do you bet that Ivy laughed when he fell off, as she peeled out?  We need to have a talk with that girl.

How NOT to go camping with the McDonalds.

Pack four hours for a 24 hour getaway.
Wash and dry all your sleeping bags.
Discover that the cooler wasn't washed properly last time we used it.
Wash the death-smell out of the cooler.
Set tent up in yard, to see if it is still in one piece.  It is.
Realize an hour later that the wind blew said tent over and broke one of the fiberglass poles.
Toby fixes tent pole with a layer of duct tape, a layer of cable ties, and another layer of duct tape.
Leave three hours later than expected.
Realize the car is nearly out of gas, so stop to fill up, making everyone even later, if possible.
Drive for one hour, with kids asking when we'll be there.  How is this still annoying, having been asked so many times?
Try to find a cool spot in the nearly-empty campground.
Park in one, and realize that it's right next to a tiny cemetery.  Awesome!  No really, goth camping!
Realize that the super-cool goth spot is reserved.
Find another two campsites adjacent to one another.
Set up tent in the dark.
Make hamburgers.  With no salt.  Because we forgot that, too.
Enjoy salt-free hamburgers, because food always tastes better outdoors.
Walk a half-mile to the bathroom, where a giant hairy spider awaits.
Realize that we forgot the bag with sunblock, toothbrushes, and toiletries.
Figure out where kids all want to sleep.  Change arrangements a billion times.
Give up and go to bed at about ten thirty(crappy air mattress).
Enter possibly gay rednecks from nearby campsite.  With ZZ Top's Greatest (and Most Obnoxious) Hits.
Listen to them repeat the CD of the Apocalypse infinitely, while popping open many beers.
For about THREE HOURS.
Wish for death.
And again.
Cheer inwardly when Lynn finally asks them to turn down their music.
Sleep for fifteen minutes.
Thunderstorm.  No, really.
Get soaked when the rain cover blows off the tent.
Feed Loch in the car while Toby fixes it.
Wait to be struck by lightning.
Decide to die with the rest of the family,
Try to find one scrap of blanket to cover up with that isn't sopping wet.  There are none.
Feed Loch, try to sleep.  Try to lay him down.  Fail.  Repeat until sunrise.
Pass out for two hours, while everyone else makes/eats breakfast.
Bacon and sausage and pancakes do make the whole thing seem worth it.
Let kids play in the lake, about forty feet from our campsite.
Count to five, to make sure they haven't drowned.  Repeat every two minutes for the rest of the day.
Eat way too much food.  Jello salad:  not a salad.  But good, anyway.
Get into bathing suit.  Play in water with kids for a couple of hours.
Have legs nibbled painfully by stupid fish.
Try not to think about how many corpses have been dumped in lakes, historically.
Put sunblock on, trying to counteract farmer tan.  (Bad idea.  Now instead of brown and white, I'm brown and red).
Walk a half mile to the bathroom.
Drink a bee out of a can of Coke.
Play tag with campfire smoke and chair placement.
Walk a half mile to the bathroom.
Pack everything up again, discovering bag with sunblock and toothbrushes.  It took longer than that, but I'm tired of typing.
Go home, ignore the fact that I need to wash and dry the sleeping bags again.
Fall asleep at eight.
Promise with self never to go camping again.

Spectacles.

They've got my astigmatism.

But aren't they cute in glasses?

 (My apologies for the flash-glare.  We were in a hurry to post pictures...)

One Last Fling

Bass Pro:  where it's free to straddle and otherwise mildly abuse all manner of expensive outdoor equipment.  At least, no one told us to leave.

Two parents, five kids, and two strollers can have a pretty decent time.

Total Eclipse.

No, not Twilight or Bonnie Tyler related.  I was reading a kids' book called "The Moon Book" at bedtime the other night.  It has facts like how big our Moon is, how it might have formed, how far from Earth it is, and so on.

When we got to the section on Solar and Lunar eclipses, I told them when the next solar eclipse would be visible from our area (I was wrong, by the way.  I thought it was 2027, but there are solar eclipses expected in 2017, then 2024 and 2045).  See this NASA map for details. 

Anyway, we were thinking it was in seventeen years, not seven.  Then we started wondering how old we'd all be by then:

Toby and I will be 48.
Olivia will be 27.
Hollis,  24, the age I was when he was born.
Maggie will be 22, Ivy will be 20, and even Lochlan will be 18.

I spend a lot of time wishing the kids were more independent, and able to do things for themselves.  I wish Loch would not need to be carried all the time to be happy.  I get so tired of the constant cleaning and tending and wiping and fixing that five kids require.

Oh, what a difference seventeen years would make.  Will they all be gone from us by then?  I am not ready for that.

It's so hard to enjoy some aspects of parenting in the moment, because there is always so much to be done, and it's overwhelming most of the time.   Here's to having fun with the kids a little every day, not just waiting for when I have time.  Because I never will have time, if I do it that way.

On the other hand, children are a huge compensation for the dreaded march of time.   If we didn't get older, I'd never get to see what kind of people these kids will be.  Maybe it's crazy or egotistical, but I think they will be interesting adults, and I hope that we all still want to hang out with each other as much as possible.  

Tonight, we're taking them fishing.  Because childhood is short, but parenting is forever.

A Whole Lotta Crap in One Post.

We're still recovering from our trip to Utah.  It's strange that even if it's somewhere you want to go, with people you want to see, trips are stressful and exhausting.  Especially with five kids in tow.

On the way there, we were stuck in a huge traffic jam for three hours in Denver, Colorado.  Toby had been asleep next to Ivy, until she peed on him, which is why he isn't wearing a shirt.  I don't know why he's showing off his biceps, but it seems like he does it a lot.

Maybe he's shaking his fist at the cars blocking our way to Utah.  I don't remember.  I DO remember that Olivia stayed awake and talked the whole night.  We are both masochists and cheap, so we try to drive straight through.  I've personally been training for the last eleven years to handle sleeplessness.

The kids were all mostly happy to see each other.  Maggie and Brynn are the best of little girly-princess friends about 95 percent of the time.  Ivy and Todd, are best of hooligan-mayhem friends 50 percent of the time.  Hollis and Olivia did a lot of packing Lochlan around while Toby and I tried to work. 

We haven't seen Dana and Josh and Corinne for WAAAY too long.  Late one night, we ran out to an all-night grocery store and giggled like teenagers while we all bought snacks.  Back at Michelle's, we watched a Rifftrax short called "Shake Hands With Danger."  Oh, good times.  Corinne, I'll be your kitchen wing-man any day.

Ivy modeled the latest in fashionable shark headwear.

We made a required trip to IKEA.   I had to get a picture of the fake buttocks assaulting a chair repeatedly to prove how durable it is.  The chair, I mean.

 
We visited Temple Square with Michelle and Tyler and all our collective kids.  I tried hard to feel the spirit and not just to notice the mullets and stonewashed jeans in the old-school church videos.  All joking aside, it is a beautiful place.

 We even managed to make it home with our little camera, in spite of the fact that Todd found it and used it.

And, shortly following our return, this little guy turned one.  Happy Birthday to Loch.

Playing in the Creek.

It's been a wet, rainy spring, so our "Sometimes Creek" has been running a lot lately.  We've all had a good time trekking down the hill and around the "Usually Not Pond" to get there.  In the above pics, you can see from one end of where the creek hits our property to another.  It's got steep tree-lined banks, so great for my pale family to avoid sunblock.




 Maggie and Ivy can play in the parts where the water is shallow and fast.

Livvie and Hollis love the place next to the big sycamore tree, where it's about three feet deep so they can paddle about a bit.  You can see the sycamore tree in the top picture.  It sticks out into the water more than any other tree out there, and has a great gnarly root system.

Hollis and Ivy claimed to have spotted a snake last time.  How big was it?  And why are we so happy about it?

Those who know Lochlan know that he's a clingy little guy who mostly loves to be held at all times.  I kid not when I say that he will sit for an HOUR and toss rocks into the creek.  BY HIMSELF.  He'll pick up a rock and make a questioning "Hmmmm?"  Then he'll toss it in with a decisive "Hmmmmm!"



Toby and I were actually there, too.

Okay, Toby started goofing off when I shot these...I call these poses, from left to right, "The Gun Show," "The Underwear Model," and "Napoleon."  Fun, right?

I'm writing this from Ivy Cottage.

This 1930's-era house is now connected to the Internetz.  How cool is that?  The phone company installed phone and DSL yesterday, and Toby brought over one of our computers from home to make sure it was all functional.  So, before we had beds or anything else here, we had a computer hooked to the internet, sitting on the floor in the corner of the library.
Last night Toby and I moved over our bed and the big kids' bed, the couches, and the fridge.  What I call "the necessities of life."  Is the house finished enough that having our stuff here won't complicate things?  Probably not.  However, I'm hoping the psychological boost that comes from taking that big step and sleeping here will pay off.  Mostly, I'm just impatient.

More Progress.

This is Toby painting our living room.  It dried a bit darker, but no less eye-searing.  I do love it.  You can also see the red dining room a bit to the right.
 
Meet my new favorite chair.  She will be in the library, I think.  We're making slow progress on the house, what with church jobs, trying not to neglect the kids, still making a living, and so forth. I'm hoping we'll begin moving this weekend.  Fingers crossed.

Gratuitous cute little girl picture.

My new button-down shirt.  I have issues with bust/waist ratio and finding a shirt that flatters both.  This genius shirt has knit side panels and works for all my mismatched parts.  I actually don't even mind this picture.

Post Name or Something.

We are slowly making progress toward moving into our new house. We're down to finishing a few things in each room, and then time to pack up our belongings and go.
Vea has graciously traded tomorrow's Hen Day to me, so we can all work together to make it so.

Last week, I was tired and worn out and kind of resented the time-suck the Ivy House has become. We have decided it's neat enough and sturdy enough to live in indefinitely, so we're trying hard to finish things before moving. We've learned the very long and hard way that it's much harder to work on any home improvement projects while occupying said home.

Some projects have dragged on past funny. I'm talking to YOU, sanding the wood floors. Some projects have popped up unexpectedly, like hanging new sheetrock on the dining room and bedroom ceilings. Mostly, it's just lots of work and not enough time. I spend a lot of time half-handedly trying to accomplish something while Loch hangs from my hip.

Today, I walked around the house and fell in love with the place again. The setting is lovely, in a little cup of a valley with a nice mix of run-down fields and trees. All the leaves are coming out, and when the sun warms up, everything smells green and wonderful. I inherited two lilac bushes, and roses, and four fruit trees of some kind. Out behind the tumble-down shed, there are wild blackberry bushes with tiny nubs of green berries already growing.

Toby and I used to discuss our ideal "dream property." Our wish list included rolling hills, big trees, a few acres for kids to run, seclusion, location near both sets of parents. We have everything we wanted, and more. I must remember that, when I get impatient. This will be a great place for us all to play and grow up.

Did I mention that Sunday,the kids spent HOURS outside playing? How awesome is that?

Family Time.

My aunt and uncle from Florida were visiting Missouri the past week. We have a tradition that the whole family celebrates Easter when they come to visit. This year, we were only one week after the rest of the country. We all had a great time and ate lots of delicious food together, as is also our tradition.
The last night we were all together, my mom brought out some old pictures for us all to look through. I found some awesome ones of Toby and me when we were dating. We were both so hot back in the day...
Anyway, before we left for the night, Mom wanted us all to have what she called 'a singing." Now, my family is generally musical. My mother and sister have beautiful alto and soprano voices, respectively. I don't really sing much. The whole idea made me squirm a bit, and I considered leaving earlier to miss out.
My family was raised in the now-defunct Newtonia Methodist Church. It's where my Grandma and PaPa took their young family, and it's where Mom and Laural and I attended until I left for college. Lots of us have joined other faiths since: I'm Mormon, and we have Baptist, Church of Christ, and Christian Science members in the family.
Mom passed out a stack of hymnals that she was given when the old church shut down. We had about thee different versions, so finding each song was a challenge. We started to sing...I blushed a bit, and looked at the floor. It was tentative at first, but these were songs we all had known from infancy. I didn't even need to look at the words.
Those songs...I was a little girl, and sitting next to Grandma and PaPa again. Grandma would draw us little pictures to keep us entertained in church. She always drew jack-o-lanterns and cats, because that's what she knew how to draw. Grandma had a beautiful voice, and I loved to hear her sing at church and at home while she worked.
Since joining another church, I don't hear the songs from my childhood all that often. I'm so glad I stayed and participated. It was unexpectedly beautiful and nostalgic. Thanks, Mom.

Sisters

Livvie is a beautiful little blue-eyed blond girl. Her favorite things are dragons and, let's face it, Game Boy. Whenever I ask her about who she played with at recess, she rattles off a list of boys' names. She always says she has girl friends, but they don't play the "good games" at recess. I'm assuming these games are the ones that regularly tear up or grass-stain the knees of her jeans. They play soccer a lot, and my girl says she's a killer goalie.

Maggie, on the other hand, is a very girly girl. She loves dresses that spin out gracefully when she dances. She loves playing with baby dolls and her little kitchen that Toby made for her birthday. She spent the night with my sister a few days ago, and came home in a red t-shirt and matching red stripy pants. Laural had put her hair up in pigtails, with a red ribbon in them, and had painted all Mag's finger-and-toe-nails red. She was very proud of herself. I mean both Laural and Maggie.

When we were growing up, Laural was interested in cheerleading from junior high up. I was in band and quiz bowl. Her favorite toys were Barbie Dolls and Cabbage Patch Kids. Mine: always, always a book, and maybe horse toys. She spent (and still spends) a lot of time and effort to make herself look good. I'm doing better at wearing makeup consistently, but some days, I forget to wash it off and have that cheeky goth smudged mascara look, because I don't look at my face in the mirror all the next day.

We got along pretty well, except for when a certain childhood friend of mine was around. I've selfishly enjoyed her living with Mom and Dad again, because we can hang out a couple times a week. Last night, Laural and I and Mom and cousins Shannon and Trisha met for dinner in Joplin and had a really good time. I'm looking forward to when my kids realize that they grew up with their best friends in the same house.