it's painfully obvious now isn't it...

I've had some time on my hands...what with being unemployed and all. This is my 3rd post today. Yowza. Other indications that maybe I'm a little bored have been popping up all around me. It's funny how one thing leads to another. I finally decided to unpack some boxes from the last time I moved.

Momentary digression here; I have moved more than most military brats the world over. In the last ten years I've moved 17 times. Yes, it's alarming. I just counted it up. This includes more than just moving to a different house but also hopping from state to state. Ten years ago, 1997, I moved from OKC to Wyoming, then back to OKC, then back to Wyoming, then back to OKC, changed houses in OKC a few times, then to Maine, then to Colorado, 2 houses there, then to Texas, 3 houses there, then to OKC, two houses, then back to Wyoming, 2 houses, then back to OKC, 2 houses.

Whilst unpacking today I found a painting of mine, I was pretty happy to see it, It's been a while. I decided I needed to hang it somewhere and in my randomness think that the best place to put it would be on the refrigerator. It's painted on really heavy mat board though, magnets are not going to hold it to metal. Hmmm? Yes, duct tape is the obvious solution. Yes, I'm sure I have duct tape somewhere around here, I'm sure I've seen it recently. Hours pass and blood pressure rises, I can't find it anywhere...I'm frustrated because I KNOW I just saw it the other day. Then it becomes clear that maybe I only think I've seen it...just because I know what duct tape looks like by memory doesn't, apparently, mean that I have any in my house. The painting isn't hung...my hours of searching for tape were an absolute waste of time.

I've done some other things I don't normally do as well. I've been sending out my resume like a mad woman, and calling about jobs...so I needed a quick rest. I slept on my couch for about 3 hours and didn't plan to or mean to, it just happened. I woke up wrapped in a quilt, sweating on my leather couch with those heavy sleep eyelids and blurred vision. I also talked on the phone to the pastor of my church for about an hour! That is remarkable! Frankly, I'm surprised he gave me that much time. It was very beneficial and wholesome though, I really appreciated that diversion.

I took about 22 pictures of my kitchen. Why? Still not sure. It's too kitchy for a kitchen. After unpacking my milk glass pedestal urn collection and having no where else to display them other than my kitchen, I'm feeling too cluttered to be able to maintain the minimalist idea I have of myself. This is disenchanting on many levels. I also unearthed my quirky magnet collection. Also, my collection of white platters, Ironstone makes me giddy. What I've learned about myself today is that, on the whole - everything together, I don't like any of it. But the problem is that I love all of it. What to do with it all? In places I've lived in the past, all of my things have fit quite nicely and their little homes brought immense satisfaction. Now, the only place in my place for all of this stuff is in my kitchen. It's not right. And wrong doesn't feel good.

(ugh! too busy, too much! ugh!)

Rather than removing my nail polish with remover, I chose to pick at it all day...which led to picking at my cuticles...which has led to hang nails and that hang nail pain on each finger. Rather than using my new pumas stone to work away the rough spots on my heels, I chose to sliver them away using steak knife. I'm surprised how oddly delightful that was. If I never learned anything from my Granny though, I did learn, by watching her use her sewing scissors, that cutting away callouses only makes them come back worse. I chased a spider around my bedroom with salad tongs...to no avail. I spent too much time trying to be clever and download bunches of "free trial" music on Urge.com for my iPod, only to find out that because of the kind of files they are (or whatever that's called) means that I not only can't put them on my iPod, but I also can't even listen to them on my computer. Now I have all this fabulous tunage on my hard drive and will never be able to hear it...sheesh, that waste of time wasn't even kind of rewarding.

What was my fruitful accomplishment today? A nap.

redeye? orbs?

This post is not deep and probably not interesting to anyone else but me. Consider yourself forwarned.

One of my most very favorite things is the red eye repairer in Picasa. It is brilliant, don't ask me how it works. Practically all photos I take of my boys make them look like robots with little red beady eyes. This picture is impossible to fix though...again don't ask me why. It looks like he has a milky eye, a pinkish milky eye. It looks like wearing that helmet will serve him well.

Nevermind that Paris is on my TV, can you see those orbs?? Not the reflection on the wall but the orbs floating around above? What in blue blazes!! Aren't orbs in photos actually images of spirits??? Am I being haunted? This has real scary potential...I'm doing research. What kind of scoop can you dish out for me regarding orbs? I'm a little freaked.

sabotage on my oasis...

Little blonde heads overtake my bed.

Where am I supposed to retreat?

The bed with the rhinoceros and turtles?

The bed with the skateboard and drool?

I want my bed back!

Move!

thank you Jason...

You might be my one and only confessed daily reader. That's not all you are though! You, with your simple kindness and compassionate words knocked my Teva mush flops off today! Thanks for continuing to be my friend...let's face it the mini-gym lunch hour days are long gone. Do you remember that flip book you made for me? The one where an airplane is flying and spelling my name in the clouds when you flip it really fast? I still have it. It's sitting right over there in my blue trunk that I have lost the key to. I know it's there though. It's wrapped in tissue paper next to my great grandmothers New Testament, and a shoebox over flowing with notes between me, you, Chad, Kerali and others. Ahhh, the olden days. You are a doll, a blessing and I want to tell everyone in blogger land what a good friend you are! Thanks for taking the time to spill the love of the Lord on me today. You rock!

the jig is up...

Last night when I went to bed, I found this note on my bed side table.

Knock me over with a feather and sop up the tears of laughter! Evidently Jackson wanted to let the tooth fairy know that she forgot to come the night before...that's me, I totally forgot to pay for his tooth under the pillow! The secret identity of "tooth fairy", and probably "sandman", "Easter bunny" and "Santa Claus" has been revealed to my 7 year old. Who knows how long he's known, he is very sweet about it, but I will keep this little note until I die, then I will give it to the Smithsonian for their posterity exhibit.

a series of events concluding dinner conversation...

Noah is being ignored as Jackson's story goes on... Jackson is pleased with his finale, Noah has plans...

the test tap... the pinch brings satisfaction to little face...

while Noah turns from imminent retaliation, Jackson yelps... the scolding, the "no I didn't!" "yes you did!"

Jackson inspects his wound, Noah regrets... the forgiveness. (mean ol' Mom)

next blog>> observations...

This is in no way intended to be racist or judgemental, rather just a note on something that strikes me as odd. Have you spent any time browsing blogger via the "next blog" button? Sometimes I do.

Aside from the obvious observations, i.e. a world of foreign languages, a lot of photos of people's kids (not always interesting), political rants, porn (which I still can't understand why this is legal, but whatever). The one thing I come across the most, which is really puzzling to me for some reason, is that every blog I come to that is all razzle-dazzled with music and customization that I could never match is always a blog of the Asian populations. Chinese or something, yet not written in foreign language. Maybe they really are smarter than us, with computers and all. I have yet to stumble upon one that provided even remotely interesting posts though. But they are certainly fancy and high-tech. Here's the rub - once I get to one of these blogs the "next blog" button has vanished, and I have to find my way back to my own dashboard by way of my favorites tab on my PC. It's almost as if the powers that be are saying "you have no other choice but to stare at this blog and feel confused."

("Raahh, I scaring you Momeeee." Oh, and we are back to Momeeee)

tugging the line...

Not for nothing, but give me a break! Seriously! "Whew"...that's all I can say, I made it through this "memorial" weekend. Maybe everyone else enjoyed this three day weekend, me...not so much. It's been a long time since I've been a stay-at-home all weekend kind of gal. Actually, maybe not so long, but this weekend was like pulling teeth. I'm blaming it all on gas prices (and not currently having an income), the only outward venturing done this weekend was in such close proximity to our house that the mile ticker on my car only rolled over a whopping 3 miles. My house, church, Wal-Mart, my son's schools, and hopefully my future job, are all on the same road and within 4 miles of each other. There's a reason I'm never moving from here.

Okay, those were the positives. The negatives are the rain, the cabin fever, and the newly embarked sibling bicker fests, that began to sound like that screaming noise cats make when they are fighting that will soon disable my last strand of sanity. I tried to make them stay outside as much as possible. Noah is incapable of closing the door though, so I heard myself say, or scream rather, "CLOSE THE DOOR!" about 67 times. Noah was the most eager of the two to play outside...there were worms, rollie-pollies, and crickets aplenty, and he enjoyed bringing them in to show me. With each bug also came mud good-n-plenty. I ventured onto the porch at one point to find that several large scoops of red and mucky mud had been lovingly transplanted from the flower bed to directly in front of the front door. Now, the only real solution to cleaning this mess-of-the-moment up was carrying numerous pitchers full of water from the sink to wash it away. Apartments don't provide water hoses at your door, I realized that today.

Near the end of this day, the final day of this lengthy weekend, my head really began to hurt. Actually I'm feeling dizzy. My B/F Marisa, the nurse, says that it's probably from being tired. Or an anxiety attack. I think it's from (and please forgive me for this) taking care of little kids all by myself for three days...not seeing other adults...not getting any rest...maybe that's it. Anyway, it's over now, the cherubs are asleep.

remember to remember...

"Yes, I will bless the Lord and not forget the glorious things he does for me. He forgives all my sins. He heals me. He ransoms me from hell. He surrounds me with loving kindness and tender mercies. He fills my life with good things."

Psalms 103: 2-5

Memories are so powerful. Memories bring joy and pain. Anything can trigger remembrance. Smells for sure. For me certain smells can actually change my emotions; for instance this one cologne that the first guy I had a major crush on wore when I was 14. I smell it every once in a while and I'm swooning again, I'm excited, nervous, stimulated. Also sight brings precious memories...like iris's can make me see my Granny's face. Just seeing a picture of Colter Bay can make me remember the way the air felt and the water smelled, how alive and right I was with the world when I lived there. There are certain memories that we never let ourselves forget. Strangely, there are other things that are often of more importance, of bigger consequence in our lives, that we should actively promote, we should consciously remember...but we don't. So in a way it seems that the frequent memories that live in us are more or less sporadic, not always of major importance, but for some reason they function more readily than others. We intentionally forget some memories. The painful ones. But, if you are a dramatic type like me, sometimes you intentionally remember pain just for a good sob-fest.

I think we need to remember everything, especially the mistakes! Because it's all a learning experience. As parents we depend on our kids memory to remind them of discipline they don't like, to get them to do the thing we want them to do. As young adults, life seems to be ridden with constant learning experiences, and lots of experiences we'd rather forget. But the wheel keeps on turning, the rotation always brings everything back around. If we don't learn the first time, we get second chances, and the more time it takes for us to learn the harder the lessons get. I know that in my life, for some reason, I seemingly seem to wait to learn things the hardest way possible before I am like, "OKAY, I GET IT!"

The experiences we should NEVER unlearn are the precious ways the Lord moves in our lives. His hand of intervention and blessing. His provisions. The act of remembering God in our lives is what keeps our faith alive. When we start to forget His grace and mercy, we begin to doubt Him. And I am particularly guilty of this.

I've been having some hard times lately. But in the grand scheme of things, these times are not any harder than things I've gone through before. The difference this time is that I've neglected to remember the one constant in my life that is the only thing that really matters. God has been more that good to me.

Just one small example is the time, three years ago, when I was newly single with a toddler and an infant. I had nothing but the love of my family and friends and my God. Literally, I had nothing but my two kids. I was at the mercy of everyone, and totally dependant of God to meet my needs (that is actually the way we should always live by the way). I had been borrowing cars to get to work, the last one I was driving was on it's last leg, it was an old car that a generous man pulled out of his own invalid fathers garage, dusted off, and handed the keys to me for as long as I needed. This was an enormous blessing, I had exhausted all other vehicle resources. Being helpless is very humiliating. But, this beater died a clunker death a few months later, on a Saturday. At this point I really, truly, had no other options, no hope of having another car to drive. I was immobile and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it, but pray. So, pray I did. I cried a lot too. I was scared. Then suddenly, literally out of the clear blue sky, I got a phone call. The voice told me that a man who owns a car lot had heard about me and my story, he wanted to help, and he was GIVING me a used minivan from his lot!! The car was brought to me the next day, with current tags and six months of paid insurance too! That was the next day, Sunday, just in time for me to go to work the next day. Almost unbelievable, a miracle without a doubt.

Now, again, I'm in another straightened circumstance. I must trust that God will provide. But until I was reminded yesterday that I hadn't been remembering, I was feeling complete and total hopelessness and morbid fear. But, now, thank God, I remember that this need I have, while huge and overwhelming, seems pale in comparison to the car that God provided for me just in time. If I keep remembering God's loving kindness, and that His love and concern for me is beyond my comprehension, then I can release all my fear and worry, and have faith that He will do it again.

There is the real beauty in the gift of memories. Our memories are proof! Good or bad, it's proof that we have lived, that we remember means we are still alive. Being alive (breathing, loving, playing, living) means that there is always hope. Hope is a memory. Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.

more you tubage...

this is my oldest son...he's stoked that I caught his manual. he's only 7. it's right on to me!

I haven't been in the mood to delve into real writing lately. I've been suppressed or something. I got really inspired this morning at church to touch on forgetting to remember. I'm stewing the ideas. Look for brilliance later. The relevance remains to be seen.

sacrifices to the porcelain gods...

Lookie! I made my first video on my digital camera, and figured out how to put it on You Tube, and my computer, and this blog ... ALL BY MYSELF! I'm feeling very smart.

Noah is semi-obsessed with bugs. He found a little bity bug crawling in our hallway and picked it up (with a spoon) and dropped it in the toilet. My camera only shoots like 30 seconds I think. So, here you can see my production debut, and also my ugliest and holiest old towel hanging on the towel rack. In the future I will utilize my certain set and prop skills more effectively.

Disclaimer: My camera is about 5 years old so the quality is very grainy...not my fault.

Also tonight, Jackson is having a sleep over, in which very little sleep will actually occur. The beauty, for me, of having a house full of little boys is their eager willingness to pose and act afool on command. I'm happy I have boys, it's great for pictures.

Here is my second You Tube goodie. Noah, ever refusing to eat the food I place before him, got very quiet, I realized he was asleep. You'll see him wake up then instantly go back to sleep. Shameless exploitation of my children is what my blog is all about today.

about dang time Emery!

Long, long ago, in a blog post of yore, Emery asked to pull a Barbara Walters on me, in a round about way. Here are her very thought provoking questions for me...

1. If you could pick up and move ANYWHERE in the world, where would it be and why?

Hmmm. This is a tuffy, considering I pretty much want to go and live everywhere. My old friend Ryan went on his Mormon anti-mission in Costa Rica (luckeeee). He only lasted about 3 months due to discovering the beauty of partaking in all the herbal culture to be very much to his liking. When he came back he was a totally new guy, and I'm not knocking any religion here or condoning the partaking, I'm just saying he was reinvented, so full of life and adventure. It was inspiring. He showed me all his photos. He lived in a little hut on the beach, swam in waterfalls everyday, road around on a bike. I could totally get in to that. If I were to suddenly pick up and move anywhere it would surely be due to needing an escape, and where better to escape to than Costa Rica.

2. What is your all time favorite song?

This is likely to come as a surprise, but the song that holds the most fulfillment, love, innocence, beauty, and memory for me is a birthday song that has been sung in old timey Assembly of God churches for a hundred years. I grew up in those churches, my Papa is a retired preacher. "Happy birthday to you, oh happy birthday to you, everyday of the year may you find Jesus near, happy birthday to you oh happy birthday to you, and the best one you've ever had." It's simple. In my mind I hear the old country ladies singing with aplomb, I feel safe and warm and absolutely content. All of my favorite songs are the ones that hold the most memories, and I have many.

3. Favorite scent?

Vanilla and patchouli. In Costa Rica I will wear patchouli oil and burn vanilla candles. While I'm partaking, haha! *wink*wink*

4. If you could ask God one question, what would it be?

Yowza! I know some people who would go deep with this proposal. Like "why do bad things happen to good people" and "why do you allow children to be violated." In God's simple abundance though, I don't think I could bare the answers to those questions, it would bring me down. Somethings will just be known once we all get to heaven. I would ask God to tell me about my biological father. I would ask to have vivid dreams of him if I never get to actually see what he looks like. He looks quite a bit like me I know. I want to know who he is and who he was and if he ever thinks about me.

5. What did you want to be when you were a little girl?

The center of attention.

BONUS: What would you say is your biggest accomplishment so far in life?

The simplest answer to this is Surviving. Surviving with hope still in force, and being able to remain positive and naively childlike in some ways. After all of it I still haven't given up, and that's saying something. Becoming a resilient survivor is a big accomplishment.

I've been tagged...

I've been tagged by my new blogger friend newnorth. She wants to know some random stuff about me. I'll oblige, and try not to freak anyone out, because I'm nothing if not random. Just remember you asked for it. The rules for this game are at the end of this post.

Quirks:

1. I love to eat Nerds. But only the red, pink, yellow, and white ones. I buy a huge box of Nerds at Wal-Mart, dump them into a bowl, and selectively enjoy the tangy bites until my tongue has blisters on it. I throw all the other colors away. Actually, this fact applies to most all other candies as well. Gobstoppers & Runts chief among them.

2. I fantasize about shaving my head. Rocking a buzz cut would free up a lot of time and money. This fantasy has been tainted recently due to a certain female celebrity who famously went off the deep end though. Also, my hair is pretty and one of my best assets I think and to remove it would be a personal foul of grandiose proportion. Also, there are still men on the earth, and I know none of them to be of the mind that bald is beautiful. So, I will continue to satisfy my fan base, I will keep the locks of love.

3. I have funky toe nails on my big toes. They are tiny. This is due to the ingrown toe nail surgery I had when I was 12. I don't know if people notice them or not. I don't sweat it because there are more important things happening in the world. Instead I paint them, I'm partial to red's and pink's in this regard as well. My mind tells me that this transforms my little toe nails into cute little cherries, and I like that very much. It's fun to live in my world.

4. I'm constantly searching for perfect body products. Primarily lotion. It has to be the right consistency, right scent, right absorption all rolled into one. This is an uphill battle.

5. I don't like sandwiches.

6. I take enormous delight in making prank phone calls. Yes, even at my age. That's how I roll. I thought I was alone in this until I met my B/F Penny. She is my souls mirror when it comes to pulling pranks of any sort. We are terrors on phone and we can't be beat. We keep a list of accomplishments. It's pure joy!

Now I'm supposed to tag six other bloggers to spill their secrets. I don't know six other bloggers. So, this is being sent into the void. I did it for you newnorth. Janie and Emery, or anyone else, if you're game holler at me.






"The rules are: once you have been tagged, you have to write a blog with six weird, unique or unusual facts or habits about yourself.... at the end, you need to choose six people to be tagged and list their names and why you chose them.... don't forget to send them each a comment that says, "you have been tagged....go read my latest blog...."

gripe sheet regarding a bad day...

Jeremy would say I am on one today. That's true. Playing the PMS card is not my style, keeping frustrations to myself is. Which one is better? Being a chipper chicken is not possible right now, events of today, while each small in their own right, have compounded into one big fracture in my usually sunny outlook. Shall I elaborate?

Let's just say that my allergies are out of control, I want to pull my eyeballs out and soak them in ice water. I've taken so much Benadryl that I'm functioning a bit like a zombie, all the while pulling long eye goobies out of my lashes and being pretty sure that with each rub and scratch I inflict on my eyelids new crevasse like wrinkles will appear and eventually I will have those big bulging puffy eyelid bags that will make me look like a hag by the time I'm forty, and my head is pounding despite overdosing on Advil.

When will the liberal environmentalist wackos realize that America has as much oil resource as all the middle eastern countries. Yet they would rather lobby to "preserve and protect" a useless frozen forever Arctic wasteland, than drill it, and force the people of America to pay astronomically high gas prices...I saw $3.50/gallon today!! None of our salaries will be increased to subsidize our fuel expenses. I don't live in a city that has a train, or a subway, or a city bus that can take me to work. What's going to happen when we hit $4.00/gallon. Who can afford that? I can't. Don't get me started, waxing political agenda is not my bag baby.

WOW. That's not even the half way point to what I'm feeling today. But to top it all off, I'm struggling with insecurity like a freakin' 13 year old as well. I'm questioning myself and everything that I thought I knew. It's times like these, I've learned, that prelude big life changes. I have had quite a bit of "big change" in my life though, and I really want to just settle down and enjoy the pace and live in the moments that make life what it is. Maybe God is working on settling me down, maybe that is my big change? Now more than ever I really have to turn over the reins to the One who has all I need. That, too, will be a big change. It's time for me to stop driving.



Lookie what I just did!! Did you catch it? I just turned negative into positive! Yep, I've still got it! The peppy Piper has returned... just in time for bed.

smell my tongue...

"Happy Birthday Mom, smell my tongue."

Was that my gift from Noah I wondered? The enticing offer to smell his tongue. I said "eeewwww" which is a word he understands well. We laughed. Still not sure what he thought his little pink tongue would smell like. Probably like puppy breath, I'm guessing. The bigger part of that short phrase is easy to overlook considering the curious conclusion of it.

He called me "Mom." MOM!! This is a big first. He has, until this, always called me "Mommy." Mommy always, but it usually comes out as a long bellowing "Momeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee." Very fine and cute, but after the fiftieth time you've heard it in a day, it begins to grate on the string cheese nerves of a busy Mom. It's not that I don't want to be called Mommy at all, it's just my little jabber-jaw must begin and end each statement he makes with the word. He says "Momeeeeee", and then waits, waits indefinitely for me to say "what" before he will continue. It's one of those things that you love and are annoyed by at the same time.

But it seems there is a new wind blowing in my little family of love. I'm "Mom" to all parties concerned. Noah's "Mom" is so very matter-of-fact, short and heavily purposed. It seems that in the two nights while my boys were at Granny's house, Noah grew up. Changed. He's different. So different to me all the sudden that I imagine I might eventually pine for the "Momeeeeeeee" days. But, I have a feeling that will be a long time coming. Today, the astute and articulate "Mom" feels like a gift...a right of passage between me and my littlest man.

some sense out of nonsense...

First of all, don't hate me because I'm beautiful!! And suddenly it occurs to me that there are generations after me who have know idea what I'm talking about. Wow. Wisdom? Age? Beauty? Beast? Scoping out brilliant cliché in brutal unrealistic reality television. Poof form epiphany ... "ah ha" moment if you will, and offered from the mouth of a MTV vamp no less. Surprising truth. An early 20's tart gave me a catch phrase to file away for knowing. I think it holds profound accuracy. She's not the originator of the precept to be sure, but what the hey ... I will love it anyway. Me, and probably thousands of sorority girls world wide. Oh well.

Now here this! (drum roll please........) "Say what you mean, and mean what you say. Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."

TA DA!

(I didn't make it up.)

Obiter Dictum, yes! Goody, yes! Love'ems, oh yes! Here comes my empowerment!! Woohoo!

my top 5 you ask?

What a wonderful world this bligity blogger world is...inspiration anew from hither and yon. I don't know any of you, well, not true, I met one of you...the point is that hearing from you, whoever you are, your tid-bits are so potent. I must give the credit to Emery for this today, her blog never ceases to evoke something in me...thanks toots!

She asked to hear fellow bloggers top 5 CD's. Well, I have to bite. I don't ever talk about the music I love. Not that I'm ashamed, nor secretive, I think I just consider it to be a very personal thing...because that's what music really is. Real music, meaning REAL music that is a product of some person's creative juices overflowing onto a record is magical. Real music is goodness. Real music is much more than art. Real music is musician's blood which is bled because they can't help it. That is amazing humanity, selfless sacrifice. And on the outside chance that someone else finds bits within the rhythm, melody, pedal point strum, what have you, is also in itself remarkable. To be able to have your spirit uplifted, to find answers for your soul in a piece of music is a gift from God in my estimation. It is the fulfillment of being touched on the inside. The warmth, the magic, the cheerful jitters, the memories that come...I mean there is no other force on earth that can compare.


Okay...here's my top 5! I think. These are the ones that will always be RIGHT ON in my book.

in no order:

Luxury Liner - Emmylou Harris

Harvest Moon - Neil Young

Live at Regal 1964 - BB King

Astral Weeks - Van Morrison

Ill Communication - Beastie Boys

runners up:

The Clarence Greenwood Recordings - Citizen Cope

Love Deluxe or Lovers Rock - Sade

A Double Play - Willie Nelson & Waylon Jennings

White Ladder - David Gray

Soup - Blind Melon

Greatest Hits - Steve Miller Band

The Dance - Fleetwood Mac

Everything by Elliott Smith

full throttle sleep mommying...

I've been known to sleep walk. I've been known to carry on conversations while asleep. One night I informed my roommate that her date had a tattoo of my couch on his arm and I knew this because I was his sister (none of that was true). I've done a load of laundry while asleep as well...which is really creepy when you think about it. I guess there's just not enough hours in the day sometimes, and I have to work it while snoozing. It's pretty scary. I remember once when Jackson was a newborn, we lived in Maine, I was nursing practically 24 hours a day, and not really sleeping much either, I fell asleep while nursing Jackson in the middle of the night, and when I awoke I was jarred to realize that I was sitting straight up and holding Jackson's little head hovered over the sharp corner of the radiator. I was terrified to think of what could have happened. These are the kinds of times when I rely so heavily on my guardian angel. The lack of sleep that new mothers get is something that can only be compared to submitting yourself to some sort of Chinese torture and then thanking them for doing it. Perhaps the problem is that I never recovered from not sleeping for 11 months...perhaps I'm still going on fumes.

Noah, my 3 year old, is ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS (did I say always?) telling me he's hungry. It's his fluent dialect. This wears me out. I've figured out that he's not hungry, but I can't get him to stop saying it. He does always want to eat, or maybe actually he just wants to see the food, because getting him to actually eat it is a challenge of it's own. I cannot keep these bottomless pits fed, and with the current gas prices, I'm fearing going broke just trying to buy groceries and the gas to get me to the store.

Last night Noah refused to eat his dinner, and I gave up trying. He went to bed early too because we were swimming at my parents house yesterday and that is a cure for any form of pediatric insomnia. Noah was asleep by 6:30 pm. I remember Noah waking me up in the night with those infamous words "Mommy, I'm hungry." I remember thinking, "I bet he is hungry, and he's probably wide awake since he went to bed so early." So, I got up, in the foggiest of hazes, and took him into the living room, gave him a granola bar, turned on cartoons, and as quickly as I was up went back to bed. Later, I remember rolling over in bed and glancing at my clock and seeing 3:00 am. At that time though, I hadn't remembered the Noah ordeal that just happened who knows how long before. When I finally woke up for the day at around 6:30 I saw Noah asleep on the couch, granola bar in hand. I can only assume now that he himself was perhaps sleep walking as well when he wandered in to repetitively announce his starvation. I'm laughing because normally I would have just put him back to bed with a hug and a kiss and probably a sippy cup too. But not this time...no, in my sleepy state of trying to cure all I just, almost robotically, put him on the couch with food with the TV to babysit, and went back to bed. LOL! Poor sleep walking kid, welcome to your crazy sleep walking family.

REM state will evidently not stop me from preforming any duty to which I am called, or not called, or any whim that entrances me either apparently. What next? Sleep speed dating? Sleep test driving cars? Sleep grocery shopping...okay, that one would be a nice thing to get out of the way subconsciously.

please note: he begged for this bowl of oatmeal, observe also the big tears from me making him eat it, it's as if I am torturing him.

once bitten...

Something gnarly ravaged my body this week. I thought I only got bitten once, then I found two more bites on my stomach. On or about Wednesday I realized my toe was not normal, nothing bad just a little twinge of tingle now and then. By the next day, it was burning and there was an obvious bump, a bite, that had a little pimple like head on the top of it...so I popped it. (bad idea probably, but sometimes I have a hard time resisting compulsions) That evening and especially the next morning my toe was hurting for real, like weeble-wobble walking pain. But, I went to work of course. Then as I am sitting at my desk throughout the morning I start feeling really bizarre. It started out as being light headed, then within the hour the room started spinning. My hands were going numb. I started freaking out, I knew I had been poisoned or something. There's "fiddle back" spiders everywhere in these parts, and they are highly poisoness, they leave holes in your leg and your skin rots away and you can be hospitalized for weeks from one little bite. I wandered down to my bosses office with my eyes opened only to a slit, the floor was waving and I was so dizzy. I sat down in her office and I tried to explain what was going on. She called for the head of HR to bring a blood pressure thingy, and they checked me and my numbers where out of control. My boss called my Mom to come and get me, and when she got there I was laying on a bench outside our building fading in and out. She was scared, the part of my consciousness that was aware of what was going on was completely embarrassed.

We're still not sure what bit me. If it had been a fiddle back then I would have had a fever, but I didn't. I'm on this radical antibiotic which I only know how to pronounce the abbreviated name for, "c-pro." Evidently, it's the same antibiotic they give people who have anthrax. My toe is so swollen that I can only wear flip flops, which are not part of the dress code at work. I'm so embarrassed to go back to work on Monday, I made such a scene without even saying much, everybody just suddenly knew that Piper had flown the coupe. The one thing that will get me going though is that this is my birthday week, the best week of the year. And not only that, I have a hot date who will be helping me celebrate my thirty-one-derfulness. I'm pretty excited! Let us all pray for my toe...I have some gorgeous shoes that my feet must fill next Saturday, and if my toe is still blown up then my outfit is ruined! Oye Vey!

manditory fun activites

Is age 7 known to be a moody age? Is it just a general distaste for his younger brother? It's a "stage." He gets all pissy every once in a while and to snap him out of it I have to be resourceful. I love nothing more than seeing my sweet babies smiling faces, hearing the laughter, participating in the joke. I'm realistic though, heck I get all pissy sometimes too. I work on keeping the peace and keeping the joy in this house, sometimes making a fool of myself is the sure-fire solution to reverse grumpiness, or as I found out, making them make fools of themselves works too.


The other day I was getting frustrated with Action Jackson because he was being a little butt, so I broke out the camera and told him to make all the mean faces he could think of, and I wouldn't get on to him, but I was going to take a picture of each one to show him. He protested, but I told him he had to...or else. (this vague threat is very effective so far, I need to work on figuring out what the "or else" actually is though) So, after the "aw Mom" he obliged. I took about 15 pictures, and after about 9 he started laughing and smiling and my method cured what ailed him. We had happiness the rest of the night. Well, I call it happiness anyway, if no body is whining and no one is crying or fighting and if I can hear myself think periodically then it's all good.

lost, turned around, upside down in my hometown...

Yea, well, it could happen to you too. Some days were created just to make you feel semi-retarded, imbalanced to perfection. I call these moments of backward grandeur my "Kramer moments." These carotic times come mostly when least expected. Flashes of greatness can't be planned.

For instance, the day I knocked myself out in the street in front of my friends house, due to a forceful collision of the corner of my Jeep's door sharply meeting my temple. Completely self inflicted. I have also slammed cabinet doors into my head on several occasions. I can only laugh...and grimace the pain away.

I'm forever putting my foot in my mouth too. I mix up words, intending to say one word, and then mid-word my brain spits out another, resulting in jumbled up words that can be most unfortunate at times. Best case example of this was a serendipitous encounter one morning with my kinder gentler, overtly conservative Christian, male boss one day. He had asked me to make what would certainly be a very uncomfortable phone call to a very grouchy insured. Ever the procrastinator, when he came to my desk to ask me how the call went, I had to tell him that I hadn't made the call yet. I said, "Mark, I haven't called him yet..." (what happened next induced hysterical nervous laughter on my part and stone cold dumbfoundedness on his part) I was planning on telling him that I didn't have the nerve to make the call yet. I opened my mouth to start "...I don't have the n...." then my gray matter changed it's mind and decided to tell him that I didn't have the guts to makes the call, but the first part mixed with the latter turned into "I don't have the nuts."

Today on my 45 minute lunch break I needed to go to Wal-Mart. The closest one to downtown is about 10 minutes away, not including walking to my car time. It would have to be a fast in and out at the store. All went according to plan, it really didn't take much thought considering this is my city, I know it like the back of my hand. Navigation isn't ever an issue. So, I leave Wal-Mart to head back to work. Suddenly, like an early Alzheimer's patient, I have absolutely no idea where I am! I'm driving down a highway which I'm sure I've been on before, yet I have no idea where I am or how to get where I need to go. So, I just kept driving, sorta looking for landmarks. Eventually I see a street sign to exit and know that's it. I exit and drive and drive and drive. Then, and I have no idea why, I decide to turn right. I drive further. Mind you that since exiting the highway I feel as though I know exactly where I am going. But no. In a sudden flash I know now exactly where I am, which happens to be about 15 miles away from where I should be...I'd been driving in the opposite direction. So, I whipped my truck around and headed consciously back to work. When I get back to my office my boss is standing there. She looks at her watch. I explain that I got lost. She looked at my like I was crazy, so I said..."I'm kinda crazy sometimes."

And now everyone knows. Revel in your oddities!

Corona Day

A year ago today I was happily playing with friends in Salt Lake. Cinco De Mayo a.k.a. Corona Day only comes once a year, and it's a good enough reason to party. How, how, did this year go by so fast? Isn't this the story you hear every elderly person say, "where did the time go"?

Where did it go? I wasn't planning on viewing this "holiday" as an anniversary of any sort, but suddenly I'm looking at the past year with a big sense of contemplation. It's almost as if I blinked the time away. My kids are another year older, am I another year wiser? I don't know. I spend all of my weeks the same way, everyday has a schedule to keep. Life is handed to me and I deal with it. I want to reverse this. I need to hand myself to life and let life deal with me. "I am Piper, trying to figure out how to roar!"

This Corona Day was more subdued. We woke up and headed to the skatepark to beat the inevitable heat. The wind was insane. We went to lunch and solved some math equations on the kids menu. I was very proud that I was able to do them without a calculator. We came home and chilled. We just got back from a long walk around the golf course, we saw a flattened dead turtle, bird poop, dead worms and rolling clouds. The walk was the best event of the day. My boys are happy and laughing. I'm feeling content. It is a good day. We were excited to make it home in time to watch Funny Videos...but that's not going to happen, and it will be okay.

Springtime in Oklahoma means having a county map of the state consuming to right top corner of your TV screen at all times. Each county is a different color and there is a legend for color definitions listed below the map. Every other minute or so, in addition to the map, you'll hear the emergency alert beeping and see a scroll run across the top, or bottom, to further define the state of weather concern. This is a constant in our okie culture these days. We're used to it. I think outsiders would probably be a little freaked out by the appearance of impending doom. Pure bread okies go outside and take pictures of the tornadoes and depend on weathermen to tell you when you are about to die. It's incredible the technology, they can tell you what street the tornado is on, and the exact time it will be in your neighborhood. It's pretty cool. I've been guiding my boys into this season, easing their anxiety, and helping them to appreciate the down right coolness of air that changes colors before your eyes. When it turns green it's time to go to your safe place.

Today our little family is a safe place. We are content and I can't imagine a better way to celebrate a holiday that has nothing to do with Americans.

kerali knows the best answer...

"Piper--He's a boy. If he doesn't find that stuff in the mags you buy for him, he'll find it somewhere else. Just be honest with him, answer his questions, and know this isn't the last time. He probably does love the pics, but a boy will always seek out the dirty words or pictures. Love ya, Kerali"

I'm not surprised. Kerali, my oldest BFF, comes from good stock. The broth she was sauteed in is strong country women, knowledge of things unknown to the common masses, remarkably astute quips, and rare wisdom. Even as a little girl I found myself to be in constant awe of her mothers amazing all-knowing all-seeing talents. If anything was lost, anything, she would be the one who found it. Kerali's Mom was the cool Mom I could talk to, she gave advice that was relevant in teenage matters. Suffice it to say, I admire these women.

So when I posted my last post, somehow the clairvoyance of a kindred spirit led Kerali to comment with words of wisdom that soothed my anxious soul. She is a mother too. I'm pretty sure her son might be cooler than any other kid his age ever, and this has everything to do with his wonderful Mother.

She is totally right! She has a way of saying the right thing at the right time...most all the time.

She has a husband, and I know that helps her a lot. I don't anymore, and I think that my neuroses often gets the better of me and the wisdom which I have accumulated in life. Blogging, I'm realizing, is a sounding board of sorts for me. I get carried away with obsessive concern for trying to do right by my boys, and that overtakes my common sense sometimes.

Thanks for reading, thanks for your input. IT HELPS!! and I love you too Kerali!

is it time to thrash?

I'm so proud of my Jackson. He's 7, he's conquering fears, he's going big, he's border line shredding the gnar.

My dear friend Jeremy is a former pro-skater, he has a rad half pipe in his yard. In Jackson (Wyoming) there is a pretty good skatepark. Jeremy spent a lot of time with Jackson (my son) showing him the beginner ropes. In addition, we also took several trips to other skateparks to watch Jeremy and his buddies kill it. Driggs, Hailey, Ketchum, Sun Valley, several in SLC. I can only hope Jackson will retain the memories, for a little guy he's had the opportunity to drop in some pretty sweet places.

When we had to move back to OKC we were bummed for more reasons than I can relay, not the least of which though was the loss of our skatepark in the shadow of the Tetons. I began to research any skateparks here, I was surprised to learn of two. We've been going, I'm only good for taking pictures and keeping Jackson amped (which I don't really have to do much). He recently did a trick that surprised us both, I kick myself for not catching it on film...or memory card rather. I have decided that as a Mom I will support whatever my boys are into, as much as I can. I know Jackson will be way more in to skating and solo sports rather than team sports like soccer, which I'm making him play this season but probably won't again. I have also been buying the occasional skate mag, he likes the pictures. Somehow though, in my efforts to be a pepper, I lost my smarts about the "lifestyle" that seems to go hand in hand with skating. I wasn't aware of this until today...I was slapped with brutal reality.

Evidently Jackson took a magazine to school today, stowed in his orange and camo backpack. When I picked my boys up at daycare, the directors mom came walking briskly down the hall in my direction. She may or may not work there, that part is up in the air, but she is always there. Tucked in her tight fist is a skate mag that I recognize. I'm thinking "is bringing a magazine against the rules?"

"Ms. um...I can't remember your name?" "I'm Piper" "Oh right, I should remember that" (not related to this post at all but note worthy: people always say that to me. I am forever clarifying my name for folks, and they always act like they should have known) I see the magazine and reach for it "was Jackson not supposed to bring magazines to daycare?" She pulls the magazine away and says "I don't think so!" I'm like, what the heck! She explains that Jackson and other boys were hiding in a corner looking through the mag and hushing each other. She further explains that she took some time to dog ear some pages that she wanted to bring to my attention. "Look at this, look what this says...I'm sure you don't really want your son to see this" I look, I read "Have you ever caught your parents masturbating?" It was an interview with a skater, a very adult themed interview. I turned three shades of blush. My mouth dropped open, I covered it with my hand, my wide eyes of horror scan for the nearest exit. "OH MY GOODNESS!!" I say. "OH MY GOD!!" The lady smiles in justified knowing "Honey, I did the same thing with my son, I've been there!" "I'm mortified" I try to say without vomiting. She says "I know honey, I knew you didn't know that was there."

Well, I didn't know that was there. The truth is I only flipped through the pictures and laid down the cash. But Jackson found it, and how long ago he found it I have no idea. Way to go loving, concerned Mom!

According to this blog history, I think that marks at least 3 strikes against my virtues as a mother. Wowzers. What can I do but laugh at my idiocy, and pray for Jackson's innocence to remain mostly intact. Lessons continue to be taught to me, I hope I get this figured out better before my boys get older though.

Has anything like this ever happened to any other Mother? I need a pep talk.

monsters, birds, and bird poop...

Conversations with a three year old can be more complex than you might think.

"Mommeeeee, will you to be nice to me?"

"I am nice to you sweetie."

"You am?"

"Yes."

"Who told you that?"

(bedtime prayers)

"Dear heavenly Father, I ask that you would bless Noah as he sleeps tonight. Bless him with restfull sleep and sweet dreams that glorify You..."

"Mommeeeeeee"

"What?"

"Pray no monsters"

"God, please help Noah to know that there are no monsters in his room"

"Mommeeeeeee"

"Yes?"

"Pray no birds"

"And God please don't let there be any birds in his room either"

"And no bird poop!"

"...and no bird poop... in Jesus' name, amen"

the quarter and the watermelon...

Two things.

Oklahomans are strong survivors, we have dealt with our share of tumult. The bombing, tornadoes, idiot rednecks. We have also in the last few years taken great strides in revamping, modernizing, and evolving our city into a really beautiful and cool place to be. We are proud of our progress, and proud to be Oklahomans.

Recently two things have made me question our state's brilliance though.

First, our state quarter was decided this week. Evidently there was a vote held. I guess there were several designs to chose from. No one I've talked to seems to be aware that there was a vote though. I don't know who the genius people were who decided the winner, nor do I know who created the concept. Ladies and gents...the winner is a picture of the Scissor-Tale Fly-Catcher, our state bird. ARE YOU SERIOUS!

This will be the lamest quarter in America, and just so you know...we are aware.

What else could the quarter exhibit that would better define our state? Maybe the land run, maybe the Indian territories, maybe the rose rock, or maybe Robber's Cave...but no. Each state in the union has a state bird, how I ask you is this even remotely unique?? This is dumb, plain and simple. We need a re-vote. Or a recount of votes. How about advertising that there will even be a vote. This is embarrassing.

Second, our state vegetable was chosen last week. Did you know each state has a vegetable? Me neither. They do however, and Oklahoma's state vegetable is now the..........take a wild guess........WATERMELON!! Our state senate took weeks to decide this pressing matter though. Forget all the other issues, the state vegetable is the highest priority. And when did the watermelon become a vegetable?



Sheesh!