Once Upon a Dream

Sister Therapy

2012-02-12T20:23:00.004-07:00

Once a month my sisters and I (there are 5 of us) get together and leave our children with our husbands and spend the day together.
The second Saturday of the month is untouchable.
We don't plan parties or trips or errands.
Second Saturday is Sister Saturday.
Period, the end, no questions asked, always and forever.
We meet at Christine's house at about 8:30am and then get in her huge van and pick a place to breakfast together.
Then we stay in the restaurant way too long talking, and laughing and crying together.
Group therapy anyone?
It is the mother of all therapy sessions.
We talk about everything under the sun; those 4 girls know more about me than probably everyone else I know combined (except Mr Bird of course).
We deal with issues from our childhood and they teach me so much.
I feel like no one else on earth could possibly understand the things I deal with quite like my sisters can.
They have been there, too.
They know how I feel because they feel the exact same way.
I don't remember my parents when they were married, I was only 2 when my dad left.
But my sisters do, to varying degree.
It is intriguing and so therapeutic to hear the things they remember.
They put pieces of the puzzle together for me like no one else ever could.
It helps to heal my soul.
We catch up on each others lives and brag about our children and cry over them sometimes, too.
We talk about who's who and what's what.
We talk about things that one could only share with a sister.
And let's not forget retail therapy.
We hit fabric stores and thrift shops and kitchen stores and warehouse clubs.
We eat samples and try on clothes together in the same dressing room.
We have even spent afternoons engaged in humanitarian service projects.
Just when my life seems to get to be too much to handle, a Sister Saturday rolls around.
It is the balm my troubled soul needs.
I come home feeling filled and rested and ready to fight the good fight some more, and harder than before.
My sisters make me want to be a better wife and mother.
They fill my empty bucket.
I can only hope that I can in some small way do the same for them.
They will always be my Angel Sisters, my best friends!

2012-02-10T21:00:00.000-07:00

Someone (who shall remain nameless) called Little Miss Mae a very, very bad name.
I was shocked that this someone would say such a thing, and right in front of me no less.
In fact, she called her the same very bad name on two different occasions.
Talk about beyond RUDE!
I was shocked and a little hurt, even.
What did this person call her, you ask?

It was the "T" word.
She called M&M a...
*gasp*
Toddler!
Can you believe the audacity?!?!
Calling my sweet baby such a horrible thing!
The truth is, she may be right.
Did I just type that out loud?
*shudder*
It's getting harder and harder to deny that my little girl is changing so fast and in so many ways.
She has teeth and wears jeans.
And look at that pony tail, it breaks my heart!
She stands without holding onto things for a few seconds at a time and travels along the edges of everything.
But the fact remains that she has of yet to take her first steps.
That, in definition, proves that a fore mentioned person is wrong.
She is not a toddler yet, because she does not toddle.
Key word being 'YET'...
Hold on baby girl, stop growing so big, so fast.

Birthday Boy

2012-02-07T21:16:00.003-07:00

My sweet boy had a birthday.
One year older and wiser,too.
Still not wise enough to stop using a blow torch to light the ever growing number of candles on the cake, however.
This year's treat: carrot cake with absolutely zero refined sugar.
So, so, so yummy!
We ate the whole thing!

Dear Mr Bird,
Have I told you lately that I love you? Well, I do, fiercely. There is so much that I love about you. I am afraid to put it all down on this here blog for fear of sounding really, really cheesy. I love how you live life so big. Everything you do has to be big, like the candles on your cake. All or nothing for you. It's how you love as well. You have the biggest, most passionate heart of any other single person that I know. Everything you do, you do with such passion and zest for life. Your happines and laughter are contagious. I can't help but love you with every part of me. It melts my heart to see how you are with our children, especially that baby girl. She has you totally wrapped around her cute little finger. I love how you look at her and play with her and snuggle with her. I love how you wrestle with our boys and tuck them into bed at night.

I love the way you take care of our home and family. I am so glad you have a January birthday, it brings such a fun light right in the middle of the cold, cold winters. I can't help but love January because it's your month. See what I mean, I always get so cheesy when I write about you, I just can't help it. We have such a blessed life and for that I am so grateful. I am so proud to be your wife.

Happy Birthday, Old Man!
Love, Me

Misunderstandings

2012-01-25T14:25:00.003-07:00

Are you on facebook?
I am.
Most of the time it is enjoyable.
I have made contact with long lost relatives and friends, distant cousins and my childhood best friend.
I know things about people like what they ate for breakfast and how many children they have and where in the world they are now.
My favorite part of facebook is seeing the new babies.
I'm not going to lie, I may have a few extra babies because my friends are constantly posting photos of beautiful toes and fingers and pudgy legs and my ovaries just can't take it.
I start thinking baby again and then I start speaking my mind.
Pretty soon Mr Bird caves and the next thing we know we have another sweet baby to hold and cuddle and kiss.
I LOVE it!
But once in a while facebook has it's drama.
I could go on and on about facebook drama, but I will not.
I learned really fast to keep it light.
I can not post about politics or religion or even nutrition.
Which is totally fine with me, I understand and accept that we all have our own points of view and ideas and standards.
Facebook is not the place to debate such life topics.
That being said, a funny thing happened yesterday.
It was a misunderstanding of the funniest sort.
You know how sometimes when a friend posts a comment on a photo, it will show the photo on their wall for all of their friends to see, regardless of weather or not those friends even know who the original poster of the photo even is, or not?
Well, yesterday my sweet cousin posted a picture of her positive pregnancy test.
Naturally I commented and congratulated her.
Well, that comment put her photo on MY wall.
I had several people comment face to face to me about the photo and offer their congratulations to me on my soon to be new baby.
It took me a while to realize exactly what had happened.
But once I did, I just laughed!
So no, I am not expecting, although I have to say I would not be terribly sad if I were.
So here's to facebook!
I love all of my virtual friends, along with the real ones that I see and talk to in real life!

Perfection Eluded

2012-01-11T21:38:00.004-07:00

"Why can I never get this house CLEAN??!!?"

The words erupt out of me, carrying with them the stress I feel in every pore of my body.
I look and see someone's toothbrush on the needed-to-be-mopped-days-ago tile floor and shudder.
Undoubtedly the little owner of that gross brush will put that thing in his mouth for the express purpose of cleaning his teeth.
Seems ironic.
I am beyond caring about such minor details.
I yell at the little owner to replace it in the bathroom drawer so at least I don't have to look at it anymore.
My words cut, even I can feel that.
Somedays I wonder why I even bother at all.
No matter how many times I have them clean up, no matter how many times I teach them to put their things away, the hurricane is relentless.
When they are tucked into theirs beds all peaceful and cozy with sweaty little heads, the destruction they've left in their wake is still there.
A pile of laundry here, a light saber there, a puddle of who-knows-what under the table.
Oh well, I think, the dog will lick it (whatever it is) up in the morning.
I trip on Lego's and plastic horses in the darkness on my way to kiss their stinky, sleeping heads.
Do I battle the winds day in and day out?
Do I stay up and clean?
Where did the hours in the day go, anyway?
Or do I just give in to the chaos?
Where is the balance?
Why can I not have a perfectly clean house and perfectly well behaved children who are perfectly smart in all areas of learning who never fight?
Isn't that the goal?
Why does it elude me so?
The answer comes painfully sharp to my heart.
Because I'm not perfect.
I am not perfectly clean, though I try hard. My desk is a pile of things that need to be dealt with, but haven't yet.
I don't always behave as I should. I yell and fuss when I should bend down and hug.
I have yet to learn all things. Along this home school journey I feel like I am the one on a quest for knowledge. Doodle is learning about U.S. history and the constitution and the branches of government. I must have missed that whole year in school because I am ashmed to say how much I am the one learning from her 4th grade lessons.
I wish I could say I never fight. I have a strong will and sometimes I just can't let things go.
So there it is, friends.
I (believe it or not) am less than perfect.
Much, much less.
So are my children and my house and my husband and my dog (she pooped on the floor just yesterday).
(Little M&M is the only perfect one around here, but that's only because she hasn't learned to talk yet.)
And guess what?
I don't plan to be perfect anytime soon.
If there's one thing I've learned time and again, it's this: no matter how seemingly perfect someone might seem on their blog or on facebook or at church, they are not.
Well, maybe THEY are, but I'm not, not by any stretch of the imagination.
I have my struggles, temptations, annoying habits and ugly bed head when I wake up in the morning (which stays with me on the days I don't leave the house).
We have messes in the living room after a long morning of studying.
Sometimes I go into the kitchen at 4:45 with no idea as to how it got so late and no idea what I'm going to make for dinner.
I often feel overwhelmed and stressed and even angry.
Those are the days when I snatch up the only perfect one in the house after dinner and take her to my bedroom and lock the door and just snuggle her on my rocking chair in the quietness.
I breath her in, trying my hardest to ingrain her babyness into my memory to conjure up again once she's all grown and they're all gone.
So for now I think I'll leave the mess.
I'll just sniff all of my babies heads on my way to bed and it will be enough, more than enough.

Sugar Free Zone

2012-01-03T13:13:00.004-07:00

Photo: sucker.com

My awesome nephew, Caden, went all of 2011 without eating any candy.
Not one M&M, Skittle or even a tiny little Nerd.
I could not be prouder of that kid.
That means no candy on Valentine's Day or Easter or Halloween or Thanksgiving or Christmas or any birthday party pinatas.
For a boy in Middle School, that is no easy task.
He is my hero.
I wish I could say the same for myself.
It helps that he was dared and that the prize at the end of it all was one hundred bucks!
My favorite photo on facebook this whole year was the one of Caden just after midnight on New Year's Eve literally dumping jelly beans in his mouth.
It was classic.
He knew he had conquered a huge feat and was celebrating.

My cute little Caden with the iron will has inspired me.
I'm not usually one for New Year's resolutions just because I'm always working on personal goals all year long.
But this year I have decided to bite the bullet and make a goal.
Can you guess what it is?
It's a big one for me.
I try all of the time to eat healthy, but I slip when sugar is around.
At family parties the cupcakes and brownies call my name and I can't resist.
If there's chocolate in the near vicinity, I will sniff it out and it will not last the hour!
But this is the year that I will change that!
My goal is, drum roll please......
No sugar for the whole year of 2012!
That includes any form of processed sugar like high fructose corn syrup.
Bye, bye gummy bears and M&M's!
Natural, whole food sweeteners are OK.
Do you think I can make it?
I have my doubts.
But fear not, I have a plan.
I usually do really well here at home.
I have not bought any white sugar for over a year.
I use honey and molasses and Raptadura and pure maple syrup in my baking and yummy treats for my kids.
We already don't drink soda or have candy around the house.
(Although I do have about $40 worth of See's gift cards from Christmas...)
I have some yummy recipes for homemade chocolate balls that have no sugar. If it were not for simple recipes like these chocolate balls and homemade ice cream I know I could not make this goal.
But knowing the yummy treats I can make to replace these sugary goodies, I might have a shot.
The hard part for me is the family parties and the Holidays.
I have a plan for that as well.
I will make homemade yummies and carry them in my purse so I can have some while everyone else is feasting on sugar laden yummy morsels.
My motivation for doing this is the same, seemingly unattainable goal of good health and longevity and clear mindedness.
I feel better when I don't eat sugar, I already know that and I want this year to be full of life and energy and fun times with my kids.
We all know sugar is not good for our health.
This is the year that I'm ready to do something about it.
And besides if Caden can go without candy for 365 long days, I can do this, too!
If only someone would pay me a hundred clams to make this huge (at least for me) goal.
Anyone want to sponsor my year of no sugar?

Pickles and Poinsettias

2011-12-23T07:58:00.010-07:00

Another Christmas season is upon us. It is no secret that I love this time of year.
I love the smell of fresh pine and Christmas goodies baking in the oven. I love the Christmas tree in my living room with about a million colored lights on the boughs.
I love the ornaments we have made every year since Doodle was a baby.
I love the mistletoe hung in the archway.
I love listening to the primary children practise their songs for our Christmas meeting.
I can hardly listen to them sing the words of these joyous carols without getting all teary, no matter how many times I hear them sing the same song, over and over again.
I love hearing my own sweet little Sunbeam sing them at the top of his voice (and get all the words right) at the kitchen table.
I can't help but joining in at the top of my voice, too, much to the sharing of the other children.
I love driving around and seeing all the fancy light displays.
I love to hear my children's chorus of oooo's and ahhhhh's from the back seat as we approach a particularly magical house.
This year Mr Bird and I were lucky enough to enjoy The Forgotten Carols AND The Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert, live. Both were amazing and added such a sweet spirit to our already festive season.
This year two of my favorite things seem so small compared to all the other sights and sounds of the season.
My lovely sister, Donna, gave me a jar of pickles for Christmas.
I could not have asked for a better gift in all the world.
You see, this was no ordinary jar of pickles.
The cucumbers were grown in her garden, hand picked and sliced with her own two hands.
She prepared the jars and brined the little lovelies with fresh dill and other yummies.
They remind me of the pickles my mom made when I was a kid, although my mom did not grow the cucumbers herself like The Amazing Donna does.
These mean so much to me probably because the last batch of homemade pickles I made did not turn out so well. I still have a dozen or so jars just sitting in the pantry untouched. They've been there for over a year, no one dares go near them.
Donna's pickles though? Like little slices of HEAVEN!
The next thing I am loving this year are the poinsettias.
Poinsettias have always held a special place in my heart.
My grandmother always had a live poinsettia in the kitchen during the holidays.
Some years the poinsettia lasted much longer than the Christmas season.
I remember one plant growing enormous, loving the warm air in the laundry room just behind the kitchen in the old house on Baker Street.
Then, after Mr Bird's mom passed away 4 years ago, one of our neighbors gave us a potted poinsettia in lieu of a vase of flowers.
Long after all the other flowers had faded and drooped and died, the poinsettia was just as bright and vibrant and full of life as ever.

photo by Precision Turf

In those bleak December and January days I needed that color and that life more than anything else.
Just the sight of it gave me hope in the everlasting life Christ promises to us all.
This year, my fabulous sister-in-law, Lisa, gave us a couple of poinsettia plants.
I love them more than I probably should love an object.
Again, I am brought to the knowledge of the gift of everlasting life The Wondrous Baby brought to all the world.
I see the vibrant red leaves and remember the blood He shed for me, for my silly sins that I somehow insist on committing.
I think of a love that brightens the bleakest, darkest times of our lives.
I love the Christmas season, I love the hope we are given each and every year, brought to us by a tiny baby born in the lowliest of circumstances the world has to offer.
I love the hope that when He comes again He will come, not as a babe in a manger, but in His great power and glory.
Then, every knee shall bow and tongue confess and my heart will burst.
I love Christmas because I love Christ.

Thanksgiving

2011-11-17T13:00:00.004-07:00

A bloggie friend of mine (I use the term friend lightly. She really does not even know I exist, but I LOVE her blog) wrote a post entitled
Why Everyday Begs to be Thanksgiving

And really, I could not agree more.
Sometimes I just look at my life and am just blown away with how much I am blessed.
I could make a carbon copy list of all the things I am thankful for, but I won't.
I don't need to.
We all know how much I love my family, how my kids keep me laughing day in and day out.
You have heard me say a million times how blessed I feel to have my kids with me at home and to have this home school adventure with them.
So this post will be a little different.
This past year has been amazing in so many ways.
We have had our share of laughter and wonderful hikes in my majestic mountains.
We have learned and grown and danced together.
We have welcomed our littlest Weaver to our home, what a breathtaking experience.
That little girl has planted herself right in the deepest part of all of our hearts in the 8 short months we've had her.
She is such a joy.
We have also had our share of blood, sweat and tears.
I have witnessed my share of toddler meltdowns and children hitting, pinching, pushing, biting and generally being mean to one another.
Those moments make the ones when they all build a tower that's taller than Doodle out of wooden blocks and then play with it together for hours, always rearranging the parts and pieces, that much sweeter.

I have had days when I can't wait for the moment when Mr Bird comes home so I can just get away for a few hours.
Who ever knew that an evening alone in a grocery store could feel like paradise.
Those hard days make the ones when we just can't leave the dinner table and stop talking and eating together all the better.
I have enjoyed a nice long hot shower just to be spit up on and have boogers wiped in my hair (by 2 different children) less that 10 minutes later.

I have spent hours sweeping and moping the miles of tile floor just to have an entire plate of dinner dumped on it along with 4 pairs of muddy shoes come in through the door before the floor is even completely dry.
We all have the good times and the bad times.
The laughter mingles with the tears.
The birth of a new baby mingled with the thought of those we love and have lost.
The moments of love that make your heart feel as though it could burst mixed with the moments of frustration that leave you shaking with anger.
We have our ups and our downs, everyone does.
And personally, I am thankful for every last moment, the good along with the bad.
Could we even appreciate the amazing moments life gives us if we did not have to go through the tough times as well?

Isn't it the bitter that makes the sweet that much more enjoyable.
And it's the same the other way around as well.
When we are going through a rough patch we can look back with love and gratitude for the happy times we've had.
Sometimes the memory of happy days literally gets us through until the hard parts are over.
“God gave us memories, that we might have June roses in the December of our lives.”
~ Thomas S Monson
So this season I celebrate it all.
The love, laughter and dancing along with the blood, sweat and tears.
There is beauty in every single day of the year.

Everyday Begs to be Thanksgiving.
May our eyes be opened to see just how sweet this life really is.
Through it all, God be praised!

First Day of School

2011-09-04T14:09:00.006-06:00

I just had a sad, sad realization.

I have only been blogging about once a month.
That is just pitiful.
Can I just tell you how busy life is with 5 little ones?
I am loving every moment of our adventures, I just need to take more time to write them down for posterity's sake.
So here it is, one for the record books.

The first day of school is tricky for us home schoolers.
The thing is, we never really stopped doing school this Summer, therefore we did not really have a first day of school, so to speak.

But then everyone started posting pictures of their kids' first days of school on facebook and I felt like we needed something to mark the turning of a new leaf for our school as well.

(By the way, you all have beautiful children and I Love, Love, Love seeing their pictures and how they are growing.)

I decided we needed our very own "back to school night".
We started with a fancy dinner, we even pulled out the place mats and Fine China.

Doodle thought that since our dinner was so fancy she needed to wear her fanciest outfit.
The boys on the other hand... well at least their clothes were clean!

At dinner we presented our theme for the school year.
Alma 37:35
"O, remember, my son, and learn wisdom in thy youth; yea, learn in thy youth to keep the commandments of God."
We posted it on the wall, and now we all have it memorized.

Mr Bird then took us into the family room where he gave each of his children a special Blessing to start out this new chapter of learning and adventures.

Then it was out to the back yard to enjoy the cool evening and a chocolate slushy.
Plus they had to endure mom taking a million photos.

Looks to me like they would do anything for a chocolate slushy!
I know I would!
We are so excited to start this new school year and to continue our fun learning adventures!

Practically Perfect in Every Way

2011-08-03T11:20:00.002-06:00

I keep thinking my little Miss Mae is just so darn perfect.
I want to keep her just like this forever.
But then, when my babies are 9 months old, I think that's the perfect age, then when they turn 1 I am in love, head over heals.
18 month olds are my favorite things in the world, too.
And don't get me started on 2 year olds, be still my heart.
I guess what I'm saying is that I just love every phase of babyhood.
I really don't know what I'm going to do when M&M is not a baby anymore, I don't think Mr Bird is going for yet another baby.
I feel like I always need to have a baby around.
The sweetness they bring to my day is truly a treasure.
OK, I'll stop being so corney now and get on with this "baby brag board" post.
Here it is, my top 10 reasons I am loving this 4 month old stage.

1. The sheer cuteness. Need I say more. Just look at that face, it melts my heart every time I look at it.

2. The joy. Whenever anyone sees her (even complete strangers) they instantly smile, which in turn triggers huge smiles and coos from the baby. Joy, it's all she knows.

3. She can't talk back yet. The other children could take a lesson from her.

4. She is not mobile yet. Well, mostly. Lately when I put her on her tummy on a blanket she inch worms her way off. Or she rolls to the other side of the room. But she's not crawling or walking and getting into drawers or cupboards or crayons or scissors yet.

5. She's sleeping 9-10 hours at night. This makes one very happy (and well rested) mama!

6. She giggles and belly laughs and kicks her little feet at the kids as soon as she sees them coming close.

7. She is the perfect size. Not so little that she needs fed every 2 hours around the clock, but big enough to play with the kids. Doodle loves to make her blanket nests in the laundry hampers and get her all snugly and warm until she falls asleep.

8. The baby kisses. You know, the ones that are open mouth, suction cupped to your cheek or chin, full of drool with baby hands holding fistfuls of hair in each hand, death gripped to your face/head. Help me Rhonda!

9. Naps. She still naps enough during the day so that I can get things done around the house and pay attention to my other kids.

10. Those fingers. When she gets those two middle fingers in her mouth it looks like she's signing, "I love you!"

We all agree, this little girl is perfection personified!

My Mountains

2011-07-23T17:10:00.007-06:00

I happen to be one lucky mama.
My cute nephew, Justin is my personal mountain trail tour guide.
Every Tuesday morning we meet in some obscure (usually gravel) parking lot and he hauls (quite literally) me and my 5 children up some gorgeous mountain trail.
Sometimes it's just too much for the 3 year old.

We end up overlooking the valley that we call home.
One of those tiny dots down below is actually my house.
We drag along anyone else who is brave enough to join the throng.

I've learned a thing or two about myself during these sweaty excursions.
I grew up in California (well, that I already knew).
The nearest mountains to our home looked like tiny pencil drawings on the horizon.
Some days you could not see them at all through the smog.
It literally took hours to drive to them.
While we visited them a few times in the winter to play in the snow, I did not spend much time in their majesty.
As a young single adult, I told myself I'd never live in Utah.

I loved my California sun.
Plus, I figured there were plenty of Mormons in Utah, I was better off where I was.
And I was happy about my decision.
Until I wasn't.

I moved to Utah in the Spring of 2000, supposedly for college.
The first time I walked out the front door and saw the huge looming mountains just overhead, I was stunned and it was love at first sight.
For weeks I could not help being in awe of their beauty every time I stepped outside.
I had no intentions of staying in Utah forever, however.
Until I met Mr Bird.
One of the first things we did after we were married was to go up in the mountains on a camping trip where we canoed to the back of some unheard of place, packed our stuff into a deserted spot and slept under the stars all by ourselves.
Not a hiker or a camper to be seen.
It was beautiful.
My love for these mountains has only gotten stronger each Summer season I spend in them.
They are part of me now.
They are part of my children and my family and my home.

I love to look out the kitchen window and see the mountains ablaze in the setting sun.
I love to hear my children's laughter with their cousins as we plug along another beautiful mountain hike.
I love to take off my hot, stinky shoes and dip my toes in the cool mountain streams.
I love to watch the sun come up behind the tallest peak.
I love to look below and for just a moment take a break from the worries and stresses of this thing called life, and just breath.

I love spending time with so many awesome family members and friends.
I love how the leaves on the aspens twinkle in the early morning light.
I love saving our yummy snacks to eat at the very tippy top.
I love the exercise we get from climbing nature's stair master.
I love the first hike of the season, when the winter snow has melted and the world is just turning green again.
When we finally reach the top, I love the soothing spray of the waterfall on my hot face.

I love the millions and millions of wild flowers.
Their beauty and wonder is etched into my heart.
I have learned that I need these mountains.
They keep me focused.
They help me to know my creator as I see his hand in their majesty.
I've learned that this place is my home.
These mountains are my mountains.
I've learned that no matter how hard the climb, it's always worth it once you get to the top.
I've learned that when I'm breathing the air up there, it feels like I'm finally home.

The Ninja Warrior Think

2011-07-13T08:17:00.005-06:00

"BEANO! It's time for morning jobs!"
"BEANO! Beano! Has anyone seen Beano?!?"
"Mom, he's in the kitchen."
Upon entering the kitchen this is what I see.
Again I try to tell him it's time to start our morning jobs.
Again, I am met with silence.
I run and find the camera, turn it on, dead batteries.
I go find new batteries, hurry and put them in the slot, making sure they're not upside down.
I run back into the kitchen worried he has broken his concentration and is on to some other mischief (anything but morning jobs).
But nope, I hurry and turn the camera on and snap a picture of my little Dalai Lama.
Still he sits in perfect silence, unfazed by the click of the camera.
I think, maybe I should enjoy the silence and not be so quick to hurry him along.
He is, after all, meditating. That can't be bad, right?
After a few more moments he suddenly looks up at me with those amazing blue eyes.
"What were you doing, kiddo?"
"I was just doing the Ninja warrior think. Braden told me that's how Ninja warriors think."
Then I start thinking, oh great, all I need in this house is a Ninja Warrior...

Hiiiiiii~YA!

The Pit of My Stomach

2011-07-01T09:05:00.007-06:00

A few years ago Mr Bird got a motorcycle.
I honestly can not tell you how many years it's been now, they all seem to just blur together lately.
Could be 3, could be 6, it's all the same to me.
Right around the time he got the thing we took out a massive life insurance policy for him.
We had been meaning to do it for some time, but for some reason getting the bike pushed that item of business to the top of our priority list.
When I was younger my best friend's dad had a motorcycle and he would take turns giving us rides on the back of his bike.
It was fun when I was a kid.
Now that I have 5 little people who rely on me for practically their every breath, I don't enjoy it so much anymore.
Plus a few years ago I saw a motorcycle wreck on the freeway just behind our house.
Needless to say I have become a Nervous Nelly.
At least as far as Mr Bird and his chopper are concerned.
He has a 40 mile commute to work in Salt Lake and the days when he rides his motorcycle in I am a bundle of nerves until I know he's safe at his desk.
Earlier this week was no different.
He left for work at his usual time, it was a bright sunny day, perfect for the bike.
He hopped on and our kids waved to him from the living room window until he was out of sight, like they always do.
About 30 minutes later my cell rang.
I glanced at the clock and quickly realized Mr Bird would be in the middle of his commute.
I looked at the number on my cell and it was not one that I knew.
Immediately my heart started to beat faster.
I flipped my phone open and said a shaky, "hello..."
The voice on the other end was deep as he asked, "Is this the residence of Jay Weaver?"
Now my heart was beating at triple speed, I just wanted to know how bad the accident had been.
I could barely manage a half hearted, "yes" while leaving the room so the kids would not have to hear the conversation.
My stomach dropped and I suddenly felt nauseous.
The man on the other end of the line continued to say he was calling for the heating and air conditioning company and was confirming our appointment for our AC tune up later that day.
Suddenly I noticed my whole face was smiling.
Yes, of course, the air conditioner.
We finished our conversation and I hung up the phone to realize I was shaky and sweaty and sick to my stomach and I could not sit down.
I had enough nervous energy to power all the lights on Las Vegas Boulevard pumping through my veins.
My heart felt like I had consumed about a million cups of coffee, I could not get it to stop racing.
It was quite some time before I could stomach the rest of my breakfast.
A few minutes later I called Mr Birds phone, I caught him just as he had stopped his bike at work.
He had arrived safe and sound, like he always does.
*knock on wood*

Broken

2011-06-26T18:19:00.003-06:00

In January Mr Bird started a work out called Crossfit.
Some friends of ours opened a new Crossfit gym near our house and it did not take too much arm twisting to get Mr Bird there.
He was immediately hooked.
He would come home from the work outs and be sore for days, not able to bend or walk straight.
Since then Mr Bird has dropped a few pounds and pants sizes.
He claims he's in the best shape of his life.
If he has to miss a workout during the week he is beyond bummed.
I was still Prego with Little M&M when he started this new hobby.
Every day he would tell me of the brutal work outs and then proceed to tell me that I needed to try it once I had the baby.
My first thought was, you want me to do what?
After having my 5th child?
You must be out of your mind.
So I have slowly been trying to wrap my head around this crossfit idea.
A couple months ago we went to the open house of the gym.
While we were there a little boy was trying to lift a bar that the weights go on (I don't know the name of it).
I was standing right next to him in open toe sandals when it came crashing to the floor, landing square on my pinkie toe.
It bled and throbbed and swelled.
It did not take too long to realize that the toe was broken.
Fast forward a few weeks and Mr Bird convinced me to do a WOD (work out of the day) at home with him.
I decided to oblige.
Big mistake.
Half way through the work out my back seized up and I could not move (something about bad form, yadda, yadda).
It took weeks to get any sort of mobility back.
Picking up Little M&M from her crib at night to feed her was sheer torture.
So far I did not have a very pleasant experience with this thing called Crossfit.
Yesterday I decided to wake up my poor postpartum self and try again.
I am ready to have my abs back.
For the most part, it went well and I enjoyed the work out.
(They take it easy on newcomers and give us a work out just for weaklings like myself and call it the newbie WOD)
However, I made a shocking discovery during the warm up.
I was trying to do a movement called hollow rocks.
It requires lying on the ground on your back and holding your legs up in the air at about a 45 degree angle.
Then you lift your head off the ground with your arms raised over your head and rock back and forth from your bum to your back.
As I tried to get into position I was alarmed at my body.
Try as I may I could not lift my legs off the ground (while keeping them extended).
They felt as if they were glued to the carpet.
I could lift one at a time, but not both.
It was such a weird sensation to have my brain telling my legs to move a certain way and get absolutely no response.
My lower abs are not just broken, they seem to be totally MIA.
Gone somewhere along with my sanity.
I am still alarmed that I could not even get through the warm up without totally tanking.
Now I have a new resolve.
I WILL be able to lift my legs, both at the same time, off the ground if it kills me.
This is my new quest.
Small as it may seem I have a goal:
To mend my broken abs.

Enjoy this video about Crossfit:

My Little M&M

2011-06-22T17:32:00.000-06:00

Way back when Little M&M was 2 weeks old (seems like an eternity ago) our good friend Matt of Barr photography came and did a fun photo shoot with our newest little Weaver.

We had to capture her babyness before it's all gone.

How much longer will I be able to cradle her in the palm of my hands?
Not long enough, I'm afraid.

I think naked babies are so scrumptious.

Just look at those perfect little lips, couldn't you just eat them up?

And the cheeks! Heaven help me!

She's our little Angel, what more can I say?

My Happy Self

2011-06-21T13:40:00.004-06:00

My poor, poor neglected blog, has it really been so long since I posted?
Time has been flying by in a whirlwind, as it does once the baby is out every time.
It feels like you're pregnant for an eternity, then all of a sudden they are going to college and you just can't figure out where the time went.
My little M&M is no different.
She is already growing and changing so much.
It's good though, she is so fun when she smiles and talks and blows raspberries at us.
Doodle thinks it's hilarious that she will flare her little nostrils when you flare yours at her.
We all end up laughing til our sides hurt at all the cuteness.
There have been a million things I have wanted to blog about the past few weeks, but I just can't seem to sit down for 10 minutes without a baby in my arms smiling at me and making it really difficult to type.

Like Little M&M's blessing day and how Dubs thought she looked just like a little princess.
Or the fact that the 11th anniversary of our little family came and went.
And how Mr Bird is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I thank heavens every day that I married that man.
Not to mention the fact that he makes me so much better than I could ever be on my own.
Before we were married I told him on several occasions that he should not marry me because it was painfully obvious that I had no clue how to be a good wife or mother.
He insisted that I would do a good job. I don't really know that I'm doing that great of a job, but I sure do love my role as Mr Bird's wife and being the mom to the most fantastic kids on the planet.
I have wanted to blog about Spring and the return of the fairy dust days.
My kids are all outside at this moment playing in the magic as it floats in the sky, filling the air with sheer wonder.
Not to mention Mother's day and Father's day.
I have wanted to blog about our weekly hikes in our gorgeous Utah mountains.
I never knew I could love an inanimate object like I love those mountains.
I love to hear my kids laugh and play with their cousins as we tread onward and upward.
Their laughter seems magical as they run and jump through the thick trees and climb huge rocks.
I have wanted to blog about the newest addition to our little family.
We brought home our very first K-9.
He's a cute 9 month old Beagle.
I have never had a dog of my own and am excited and nervous at the same time.
It seems like one more creature to worry over and take care of.
Why is it I like taking care of small things so much?
Babies, apples, fruit trees, chickens, turkeys and now dogs apparently.
So far he's been a really good dog.
It does my heart good to see my little boys running around and rolling in the grass with their cute and snugly pup.
Now we just need to agree on a name...
And last but not least, I have wanted to blog about the fact that I don't think I could be any more happy if I tried.
I am truly blessed to have the life and family and home that I do.
I believe that I live on just the exact perfect spot on the whole green earth.
I really do feel as if my life is practically perfect in every way.
*insert cheesy grin*
A fantastic husband, 5 adorable children and now a little tail wagging dog, what more can anyone ask for?
Well, maybe just one more baby, but we'll let Mr Bird have a year or two before we bring that up again.
;)

Scarred for Life

2011-05-18T10:59:00.002-06:00

I over heard Doodle and Beano and Dubs talking at the kitchen table the other day.
Their conversation went something like this.
Beano: When I grow up I'm going to have 10 kids.
Dubs: When I grow up I'm going to have 100 kids, I'm going to need a really big house!
Doodle: I'm only going to have 2 kids; do you know how hard it is to push babies out?!?! (sounding completely appalled)
She went on to explain that she wants 2 kids , preferably twins (so she only has to go through labor one time), so that they will not be spoiled and mean.
I think it may have been a mistake for me to let her be here for Little M&M's birth.
I think she may be scarred for life.
Plus I think she's one smart cookie, why didn't I think of that plan 3 children ago?
Not really though, I would not trade any one of them for all the riches in the world.
They are so good (most of the time) and I can not imagine my life without any one of them.
Even Little M&M has worked her way so deep into the fabric of our lives that it seems she's always been a part of us.
When I was on the phone with my grandma (Little M&M's name sake), telling her of Little M&M's birth she said, "I think Heavenly Father tricks us into having more babies. None of us would do it more than once if we were in our right minds."
I think she may be right, at least Doodle thinks so!

A New Name

2011-04-25T19:08:00.004-06:00

It's official.
Baby Cakes has officially out grown his bloggy name.
(OK, OK, I know it's been official for a while now)
He is anything but a baby any more.
Yet for so long he has been my little boy.
I admit it, it's been really hard for me to let go of his babiness.
Harder, for some reason, than any of the other children thus far.
I have a million reasons why, I will not bore you with all the details, but that little boy had my heart from the start.
A few days before M&M was born, the thought occurred to me that Baby Cakes was not going to be 'the baby' anymore.
It nearly ripped my heart out.

For those few days I hugged him every chance I got.
Which is really hard to do to a 3 year old who thinks he's going on 30.
He is so busy being a little man, he has no time for mommy to keep trying to snuggle him.
While I was in labor I literally sobbed, out loud, that he would not be the baby anymore.
And when I say sobbed, I mean cried out loud, whaled even, with huge tears that seemed to come in torrents.
(Not my prettiest moment)
Then another contraction came and distracted me for a while.
A few days after M&M was born, we were saying family prayers one night and it hit me again that Baby Cakes was indeed growing up and a new little being had taken his place of "The Littlest Weaver".
I held him close for his good night hug and cried again, not wanting to let go of his baby-ness.
I choked back the tears as he kissed my cheek and I scooted him off to bed.
I have loved that little boy fiercely.
I still do, but it's high time I come to grips with the reality that he's just not a baby anymore.
With that said, I have a new bloggy name for my not-so-baby-anymore-Baby-Cakes.
He will officially be known on this blog as,
Drum roll, please!

Little Man.
Not very original perhaps, but very fitting.
He thinks he's all grown up.
His goal in life is to be just like his daddy.
He wants to grow up and go to work and eat hamburgers for lunch just like his dad.
In fact, if I make a dinner he does not like, all I have to say is that if he does not eat, he will not grow up big like daddy and he instantly cleans his plate.
Works like a charm.
He has to be right in the middle of what the other boys are doing.
Building forts to keep out the enemy, playing army and war and defending his family.
He may just be the littlest man I know.
Even though he may be growing up and becoming a man, he'll always be my Baby Cakes.
I sure do love that Little Man of mine!

My How Time Flies

2011-04-01T17:48:00.005-06:00

So much has happened in just the past 2 weeks.

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly things can change.
How we adapt to change and grow with it.

Here are some photos of the little changes going on at our house.

Our little M&M is already growing like a weed and working her way into our hearts and lives.

It's already hard to imagine we were ever with out her.

A Star is Born

2011-04-01T10:54:00.004-06:00

Warning:This blog post may contain graphic material not suitable for all audiences. It contains graphic descriptions of a real birth, no holds bar. It is very descriptive and I tried to make it as honest as possible. If you are squeamish about this sort of thing or are a man, you may want to skip this post all together. We will return to our regular scheduled posts next week.

It all started with a big bang.
Well, it was actually more like a tiny pop in the stillness of the night.
1:00 in the morning Friday March 18 to be exact.

Mr Bird was in California for work and was not due home until about 11:00 that night.
I had a hard time falling asleep that night, so when I needed to turn over in the night, I was again awakened, but this time with a pop and a huge gush.
It only took moments for me to figure out that my water had broken.
I got up to go to the bathroom, heart racing, and my fears were instantly confirmed.
My water had broken and Mr Bird was hundreds of miles away from me.
What was worse is that there were no contractions to accompany this development.
I take that back, there were a few tiny contractions.
They were irregular, to say the least and not even as painful as period cramps.
Just how Doodle's labor started.
Broken water with no labor in sight.
I was worried I'd end up in the hospital on pitocin to get labor going.
Not exactly the home birth I had been planning and dreaming about.
I called my midwife who assured me labor was imminent and that I should lay down and sleep before it got intense. She said I should call her when the contractions started to pick up.
Then I called Mr Bird.
"Guess what? My water just broke!"
"What? You're joking, right!"
"Why would I call you at 1am joking about something like this?!?! No, my water really did break!"
I think this is where the tears started and I freaked out just a little.
Mr Bird and I got off the phone so he could try to change his flight and I could "sleep".
I think I stayed in bed about 3 minutes before I realized my mind was not going to be quiet.
I decided to get up and do a few things that I had left undone the night before.
An hour later I had a spotless house and a very tired body.
Mr Bird called back to tell me he was able to change his flight and would be home by 10:00 am!
What a relief.
I layed back down, but still no sleep and very few contractions.
It seemed like I layed there forever just waiting for the sun to come up and waiting for the imaginary contractions to intensify.
Finally the children woke up.
We got breakfast going (banana muffins and a loaf of banana bread for snacks later) and did our morning jobs.
I told the kids we would be having a baby today and needed to get some things done to get ready.
They were beyond excited, although doodle was a little confused because just the night before I told her we still had 2-3 weeks until the baby came.
She was counting on it being born on her birthday.
I called my sister, Christine, to come over so I would not have to be alone until Mr Bird got home.
She got there a little while later with her 4 year old daughter.
The kids were instantly loud and noisy and excited to see their cousin.
There was running and yelling and laughing and an over all abundance of energy in the air!
My wonderful sister gathered the children for stories to calm them all.
She read for nearly an hour, until my sister-in-law, Mama Lisa, showed up with the fixings for smoothies and calming oils and rubbed my feet.
Shortly after that my nephew Brad stopped by with his cute little baby Chase.
By this time my house was no where near clean anymore and chaos reigned supreme.
The kids were in and out of the house a million times and the grown ups were talking and I was starting to stress, big time.
I was ready for quiet.
Mr Bird got home around this time and since there was no sign of baby he decided to go take a nap.
Meanwhile we went through boxes of baby clothes, put together the bassinet and hoped to no avail for more powerful contractions.
I had a few, but they were still not very close together or coming in any sort of regular pattern.
Frustration started setting in.
While Mr Bird was napping baby Chase started crying.
He woke Mr Bird, who thought I had gone ahead and had the baby while he was sleeping.
Mr Bird looked around at all the chaos and saw me looking overly anxious and decided we needed to get rid of some people if we ever wanted to get things going.
I went upstairs and called my midwife again, not to report strong labor, but rather the lack thereof.
I tried my hardest to sound put together, but it was all I could do to not start bawling into the hand piece.
"Heather, I am not having contractions and I really don't want to go to the hospital. What can I do to get things going?!?"
It was past lunch time and I was ready to try anything at this point.
She suggested a few things.
First on her list was the dreaded Castor oil.
She said she had a few more appointments to finish up with and would come over as soon as she was done to try to "stretch my cervix" to see if that would produce more powerful contractions.
She said in the mean time to try nipple stimulation whenever I did have a contraction to see if we could make them longer and more regular.
I thought of all the people in my house and knew they all had to leave.
It was time to get down to business.
Less than 1/2 an hour later the house was silent.
Lisa had taken my children with her to play and we sent Christine to the store for some Castor oil.
I put 2 Tablespoons in the last part of my smoothie and choked it down at about 2:30 in the afternoon.
While waiting for something to happen I laid down and tried concentrating on contractions.
I became very frustrated with their lack of oomph, even with the extra stimulation.
A few hours later, around 4:30 the Castor oil kicked in.
I found myself not able to venture too far from the bathroom.
Heather showed up about that time and we talked about options.
We decided to go ahead and try a few more things before throwing in the towel and heading to the hospital.
She went ahead and started to stretch my cervix.
She said I was not even dilated to a 2 and my cervix was not effaced at all.
She said my cervix was very unfavorable.
She said this could be a VERY long labor and that she'd plan on spending the night and the baby would likely not come until the next day.
Just like with Doodle, I started thinking that my body could not do this on its own after all.
I needed to get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of her procedure, so I did.
When I got back to bed so she could finish she said that in those few minutes I had become 50% effaced!
Finally, a glimmer of hope.
My body was responding.
Since my contractions were still weak, Heather suggested I walk around.
I thought about running some errands that I had wanted to do before the baby came, but decided I could not be too far away from the bathroom at that point.
I opted for a walk on my treadmill while Mr Bird made a run to Wally World and to pick up Subway for dinner.
By the time Mr Bird came home I had been walking for about 40 minutes.
The contractions really picked up while I was on the treadmill.
They were still not very long or painful, I could still walk through them, but they were coming regularly.
When Mr Bird got home we all sat and ate our sandwiches.
I was thinking I'd get back on the treadmill after I ate so I could keep things going.
Lisa called about that time and said she'd keep the boys overnight, but that Doodle wanted to come home and be here for the birth.
I went upstairs to get some clothes packed for the boys.
That only took about 10 minutes, but in those 10 minutes my contractions changed significantly.
It was apparent I would not be getting back on the treadmill.
It was about 6:30 by this time and my water had been broken for quite some time.
We did not know the results of my group B strep test since we had just done the test 2 days before and the lab did not have my results yet.
We decided to go ahead and have my first round of I.V. antibiotics just to be safe.
The risk of infection to the baby had my group B step been positive was on the rise and I did not want to risk it (it turned out negative after all).
Heather put in the I.V. as I sat in the rocking chair in my bedroom.
It took about 20 minutes for all the antibiotics to enter my vein, then the I.V. was out.
From then on time becomes a blur, things started happening hard and fast.
I bounced on the exercise ball leaning over our bed until I could not talk through the contractions anymore.
We decided to set up the birth pool at this time.
By the time it was ready to go, so was I.
The warm water made me relax and soon labor became intense.
That's the best word I can use to describe it.
I had to really focus on breathing and even moaning to get through this part of labor.
Heather was great.
She helped me breath through the contractions and helped me to not get all panicky.
She moaned with me which helped immensely so I could have something to focus on, if I matched her tones I could do it.
This is the part of labor when I wanted to crawl out of my skin.
I started thinking I could not do it any longer.
I keep talking to the baby in between contractions.
I kept telling her we were ready for her and to hurry and come out.
Sounds silly, but it gave me something to think about instead of the pain.
Then the nausea hit.
That's when I knew I was in transition and was actually relieved because I knew it would be over soon.
During this time Doodle was in and out of the room.
Mr Bird had turned a movie on for her downstairs.
She would come in the room and watch, then go back down to watch more of her movie.
I don't think she even watched 5 consecutive minutes of her movie at any given interval.

Once the nausea passed I felt that the water in the pool was getting cool and I was ready to get out and try something new.
I got up and went to the bathroom and stayed there for a few more contractions.
I was really worried about having the baby in the bathroom so I got back to our bed before too long.
Heather checked me again and said I was 9 with just a tiny rim around the baby's head.
I asked her if she could try to slip the rim over the baby's head so we could get the ball rolling.
She did and then said I could try to push through the next contraction.
It felt much better to push through them.
Then suddenly, something funny happened.
My contractions changed again.
Only, instead of getting more intense and painful, they became very mild and short.
I could not even get the "umph" I needed to get a good push.
Heather said this is called "the rest and be thankful" stage of labor.
It happens to many women, only most don't know it because they have an epidural and can't feel it.
I was very relieved that the contractions were so easy for a while.
I kept saying how much better these ones felt and how glad I was that the others were gone.
Yet, I wanted to get things going, I wanted to meet my baby.
My hips started cramping up in the bed so I got out and assumed the squatting position next to the foot of my bed.
Heather told me I only had 30 more minutes until I had to have more I.V. antibiotics.
I really did not want more. I could not see myself sitting there with a needle in my arm for 20 minutes at that stage of labor. That became great motivation for me to get the baby out.
Somewhere around that time I heard Heather tell her assistant that the baby's heart rate was 107.
I freaked out and thought that was too low (it had been over 140 all during labor).
I was worried the baby was starting to get distressed.
Heather reassured me that for the fact that the head was in the birth canal that was perfectly normal.
Still, I was worried and started to feel that I really needed to get this baby out.
Heather checked me again and found that for some reason a little bag of water was hung up under the baby's head and that could be why pushing was not working.
She popped that little bag of water and we all heard a little 'pop'!
The next contraction I started pushing and could feel the head crowning.
I screamed and that sent Doodle out of the room like lightening, I think it freaked her out.
I felt like if I could just keep pushing, the baby would be born.
I stopped pushing and was irritated that the head had not come out.
"Now I have to do that all over again!"
The next push and baby's head was out, I paused and decided to keep pushing and her little body came shooting out into Mr Bird's arms.
10:44pm, 10 minutes more and I would have needed more antibiotics. Turnes out, I beet the clock.
If only I could explain the euphoria I felt at that moment.
Mr Bird said, "You're not pregnant anymore!"
My reply was a resounding, "Hallelujah!", that I literally felt from the top of my hair follicles all the way down to my toes.
Nothing has ever felt so good in my entire life!
Heather ended up behind me and I found myself lying in her arms.
So Mr bird caught the baby and Heather caught me.
Mr Bird looked at the baby and tried to see the gender, but it was dark and he was also trying to make sure she was breathing.
She coughed and choked a few times and then she was breathing and screaming at the top of her lungs.
This sent Doodle flying back into our room.
Mr Bird handed me the baby wrapped in a towel and I just held her so tightly.
It took a few moments before I could take her away from my chest to see what we had.
I turned to Doodle and said, "You have a sister!"
She could hardly believe it.
The next little while was pure heaven.
No one came to take my baby from me to be weighed and measured and poked.
We sat and looked at each other for the longest time, then got on the bed and nursed.
Doodle and I took turns holding her and snuggling.
After about an hour and a half they cut the cord and weighed her and measured her right on my bed, right in front of my eyes.
They did the newborn exam and checked her breathing and heart and reflexes and I don't even know what else.
They were so very thorough.
During all of this she never left my sight.
I then decided to let Mr Bird hold her while I took a quick shower.
Heather and her assistant took down the pool and cleaned everything up (they even brought their own towels which they took with them to launder).
We had tons of disposable pads and protective layers so nothing was soiled in the least.
The midwives left at about 1:30 am and we were left as a little family all cozy in our bed.
My Bird and Little M&M slept all night long.
I, on the other hand, could not sleep a wink.
I just lay there, staring at my baby and listening to her sweet breath and squeaky noises.
I was on cloud nine and I don't think I could have slept even if I had wanted to.
Now it has been two weeks since her birth.
Talk about a whirl wind.
We've had Dub's birthday and Doodle's birthday since then.
We've dealt with sleepless nights, taking shifts on the couch, the joys of the first week of nursing a new baby, jaundice and bili lights, a million trips to the hospital lab for more blood to check bili rubin levels.
We've had sick kids who have to stay away from the sweetest baby on the planet.
We've gone through 3 1/2 packs of diapers and are on our second box of breast pads.
She had her 2 week check up and is officially out of the jaundice woods. The lights are returned and we are all so much happier.
She is already growing and changing.
She now weighs 7 pounds 2 ounces and is a whopping 20 3/4 inches long.
That puts her in the 15th percentile for weight and the 50th percentile for height.
Tall and thin, just like her sister.
We have the hang of nursing down and are even getting a few hours of uninterrupted sleep each night.
*knock on wood*
We are all so healthy and happy.
This journey has been a lot like life itself.
Full of ups and downs and twists and turns, but in the end full of joy beyond description.

Glow in the Dark Baby

2011-03-24T17:47:00.005-06:00

My little M&M has been under the bili lights for 2 days and counting.
When I first found out she'd have to be there 24/7 it nearly broke my heart.
I literally sobbed as I strapped her into the little blue cocoon.
I can take her out to nurse and change her diapers, but that's it.
Even then she has a portable bili light strapped to her tiny chest.
The whole thing is so pitiful.
It's like she's being quarantined from our family.
We just got her and now we can't even hold her.

Logically, my brain knows it's good for her and will only benefit her in the long run.
But try telling that to my heart, whose wanted nothing more than to snuggle that sweet thing for 8 1/2 very long months.
Putting your baby on some alien experiment looking tray instead of rocking and cuddling and cooing at her goes against every fiber of motherhood.
It's like trying to tell the sun to stop shining or stopping the Spring from springing.

We are trying to be positive though.
We have thought of a few funny names for our little science experiment.
Smurfette
Lily Bili
Glow Worm
Radio active Baby
Glow in the dark Baby
Baby from the Blue Lagoon
She's our own Little Blue M&M
(I think the blue ones might be my new favorite color)
We are counting the hours until we can turn the lights off and get on with the serious business of hugging and kissing that tiny face.
For now, I take my time nursing and burping her and cherish the smell of her tiny head.
I lie right next to her in my bed and stare into her eyes when she's awake.
We have really good talks.
I have explained to her why she's there, I don't think she quite gets it though.
I listen to her tiny squeaks and hiccups and remember what it felt like when she had those in my belly every single night.
I marvel at the miracle she is and dream of our future together.

Welcome Littlest Weaver

2011-03-22T20:49:00.005-06:00

Little Miss Mae (Little M&M) joined our family Friday March 18, 2011 at 10:44pm.
It's amazing how we went from the above photo to the lower photo in just a few hours.

Little M&M weighed 6 pounds, 14 ounces and was 19 1/4 inches long.
She was born at home, in our bedroom. What an incredible experience, I would not have had it any other way.

I will not post all the details of the birth tonight, but wanted to post some pictures for those of you who have been asking ever so nicely.

You're welcome!

We are all so thrilled she is here. What a sweet addition to our family.

Doodle is beyond thrilled to have a sister. She is convinced this little girl is all hers.
She even wrote me a letter the following day. Here's what it said:
Dear Mom,
I love you so so so much.
I am so glad we got a girl.
You're the best mom ever.
Love, Doodle

If you ask me, I think I've got two of the sweetest girls ever!

My Sanity...Hanging by a Thread

2011-03-14T08:08:00.004-06:00

The count down is officially on.
I am officially 3 weeks away from my official due date.
That means I have an official reason to be grumpy, right?
Well, even if my reason is not official, I am.
Grumpy that is.
Maybe grumpy is not the right word.
More like irritable.
More like, "Don't look at me or I might snap your head off!"
I am trying really hard to stay calm and carry on, but it's getting increasingly difficult.
Especially at church or anywhere else in public.
People see me coming and their faces change.
I watch their eyes widen as they follow my belly.
When they do make contact all they can think to say is, "When are you due?" or
"Look how big you're getting, you must be due any day!"
It takes all my will power to not scream at the nice old ladies, "NEVER! This baby is NEVER coming out, EVER! I'm doomed to stay like this for what seems like FOREVER!"
or
"I have been telling you for the past 5 months the same exact date, it realy has not changed. And besides, I never deliver before my dute date so it just might really be 5 WEEKS instead of 3."
or
"I have no idea when this baby is coming out of me, I wish it were up to me and I could give you a real answer."
or
"STOP STARING AT ME!"
I think I was asked when this baby is coming no less that 30 times this weekend.
Maybe I should start wearing a sign that says my due date and post it to my belly so people don't have to ask.
You know, like the little count down thingy I have on my blog.
Genius! I could make a million dollars with this idea.
Some sort of digital pregnancy count down thingy so people can stop torturing us pregnant ladies.
And it can scroll through other important messages like:
"I know I look like a swollen blob, but that does not give you an excuse to look at me!"

I am very aware that I sound like a 3 year old, thank you very much!
I guess the Sunbeams I teach are rubbing off on me.
OK, I may be exaggerating a little.
But I do hate this part because it is like people must constantly remind me that I still have 3-5 more weeks (let's be realistic) of bladder squishing, crazy dreams at night, bloatedness.
All the while I can feel this little one all wriggly and I know there's a beautiful baby in there and all I'm dying to do is hold it and kiss it and nurse it.
It's just so close, yet so far.
I really hope my sanity can hold out for another few weeks.
I may just decide to not leave the house again until the blessed day.
Heaven knows I have enough nesting to do to keep me good and busy until then!

Up

2011-03-09T09:00:00.006-07:00

Ever since I met Mr Bird he has had one dream that has never faltered.
He has wanted to be a train engineer.
The man loves everything and anything to do with trains.
We attend the annual reenactment of the driving of the golden spike every May 10th.
We pack up all the kids, enough food for the day and blankets and drive an hour to get to the absolute middle of nowhere to witness this celebration.
We visit our local train museum on historic 25th Street in downtown Ogden (with and without the children) at least once a year.
We attend the local train convention where collectors from all over the country convene at above mentioned 25th Street museum.
They set up the most elaborate model train sets you could ever imagine.
Every size, shape and color.
Every year Mr Bird drools over their master pieces.
In fact, when I first met Mr Bird, he had a model train set in his bedroom that went along the top perimeter of his bedroom.
I still remember his excitement to show me his train running along the tracks.
I still remember his disappointment when he took it all down so we could move into our very first house together.
Well, guess what Mr Bird?
I may have found something cooler for you than being a train engineer.
How about a world-class balloon pilot!
Check this out!

"March 5 at dawn, National Geographic Channel and a team of scientists, engineers, and two world-class balloon pilots successfully launched a 16' X 16' house 18' tall with 300 8' colored weather balloons from a private airfield east of Los Angeles."

What do you think?
I smell a new hobby for my lover!
Click here for more amazing photos of this Disney Pixar inspired project!

The Circle K

2011-03-08T10:42:00.005-07:00

"Strange things are afoot at the Circle K..."
(name that movie)
Or should I say, strange things are afoot the the Weavers!
Let me give you a little background.
Baby Cakes (whose not a baby anymore) is always telling Mr Bird and I (and anyone who will sit still and listen) all about his "friends".
I assumed they are imaginary since he has yet to have a play day at a friends house without mom.
He's always saying things like, "I do math at my friend's house." or "My friend let me play with his motorcycle when I was at their house."
When we ask him about said friends he tell us they live in his secret lab, and apparently there are millions of them and they come in all kinds of colors.
It's a well known fact that his "secret lab" is a space under the bushes in the side of our yard that the kids hide out in during the nicer days when the sun is shining.
A while ago he started saying things like, "One of my friends died tomorrow."
(tomorrow is the word he uses for any reference to time, weather it be yesterday or next week or last year.)
Then he started telling me that the ghosties let him play with them and that the ghosties were his friends.
I know, weird right?
So what do you think, little kid with a great imagination or do I need to be worried?
Well, I have not been too worried, until this morning.
We were starting our morning devotional to get our school day going when all of a sudden there was a noise upstairs in the bathroom that's getting a face lift.
I looked around the room to see who had snuck out and was upstairs.
All of my children were looking at me with wide eyes.
I listened more closely.
It was music.
Mr Bird and I had done some work on the bathroom last night and had left a radio plugged in.
Spontaneously, it turned on and was playing Cold Play for our listening pleasure.
I sat there in stunned silence for a few moment, trying to rationalize what had just happened.
No logical explanation came to mind.
Then I thought of Baby's ghosties.
Could it be?
Then get this!
Just as I started typing this very post my Internet browser turned off.
No warning, nothing, just poof!
All that was in front of my face was my cow screen saver.
Luckily, Blogger had saved my draft (most of it) and I was able to click on Firefox again and continue my post.
If the radio were not enough, the Internet has me really freaked out.
So help a girl out, what explanations could there be for these erratic occurrences?
My imagination?
Baby's ghostie friends?
Want to know something else weird?
I just noticed this week that the convenience store near our home is a Circle K.
Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do!
(Twilight Zone theme music playing in my head)

Pregnancy Sleep 101

2011-02-18T20:08:00.000-07:00

I think I may have found the cure for 3rd trimester night time restlessness.
You know, that feeling of being beyond exhausted, dreaming of your bed and falling into a deep slumber only to lay there and toss and turn, without a comfortable position to be found.
The hips ache, the belly is huge and cumbersome, the back is off limits.
And to top it all off, restless leg syndrome.
If you've never experienced that, count yourself lucky.
You lay there and for no apparent reason the legs must move.
They will not stop, even if you're just moments away from a really good dream.
Those legs will pull you out of dreamland in an instant with those uncontrollable jerks.
It would literally take hours to even fall asleep, and then if anything awoke me during the night it was literally impossible to get back to sleep.
Then there are the leg cramps, don't even get me started.
Want to know my secret to 3rd trimester sleep?
It's actually a combination of things.
I've found that if I leave one of these things out, my night is over.
Step 1. 1200mg of calcium with magnesium an hour before bed.
My midwife says dark chocolate is one of the highest source of magnesium in our food supply.
Man, I love that lady. Now I have an excuse to eat chocolate before bed. Every night!
Step 2. Sleepytime tea 15-20 minutes before bed.
Warm chamomile and other wholesome herbs with a touch of honey, need I say more?
Step 3. Light leg stretches just before you hop in the blankets. I've omitted this one time to time and I literally have to get myself out of bed, usually an hour after I've gotten in, and do the stretches. Then I get back in bed and am asleep in minutes.
Step 4. Boppy Total Body Pillow. Enough said.
Mr Bird got me one for Valentine's day. I was skeptical to say the least. I've had body pillows before and found them huge and cumbersome and suffocating. The first night I snuggled up to the Boppy I was in heaven! No joke. I have slept better the last 4 nights than I have in the last trimester of any of my pregnancies combined. I wondered if it was a fluke the first night, but the same wonderland sleep has found me every night since. It has been heavenly. I feel rested and almost human again. I wish I had this 4 babies ago.
And no, this is not a paid advertisement for Boppy, just a recipe for a good night's sleep!
Sweet Dreams!

The Homeschool Roller Coaster

2011-02-07T12:24:00.003-07:00

I must start by saying how much I love homeschool.
I love having my kids here with me and going for a walk on the parkway on sunny days after lunch.
We love to see the ice cold river and the winter birds that did not fly south for the winter.
We love the contrast of the winter trees as compared to the vibrant summer colors and the cool shades of the fall leaves.
I love it when Beano reads to me and begs to do "just one more chapter".
Then, before we know it, he's read the whole book.
He likes to read to me so much because he thinks he's really reading to his baby (which I guess he is and which I also really love).
I love it when Doodle plays me piano songs before breakfast.
If she had to go to school she'd be rushing to get ready for school instead of making beautiful music.
I love reading scriptures from the New Testament with my children.
It was the New Testament I fell in love with first, it was the first volume of scripture I ever read on my own.
I fell in love with Christ and I love reading and teaching His stories to my children every single day.
I feel like I'm finding that part of myself again in the process and it's truly magical.
But just like everything in life, homeschool is a definite roller coaster.
We have incredibly great highs.
Highs that make me feel like we could (and will) do anything.
Then there are the lows.
This is when I struggle with my sanity.
Questions whirl through my mind.
Am I doing enough for them?
Are they learning all they need to know?
What do they really need to know?
Do we play too much?
What curriculum should we use, or should we just wing it and learn what we want, on our own time table?
Am I even doing this right?
I struggle with these questions, some days more than others.
I worry my kids only practice their writing skills because I make them and not because they love to do it.
Yet I am at a loss as to how to inspire them to truly love writing.
I love writing, but how did that passion grow in me when I was young?
I honestly don't remember.
Maybe it didn't come until college.
Homeschool can be really fun and really hard, all on the same day.
So how do I combat the homeschool roller coaster?
I pray.
I look at Charter schools online.
I look at "What your 3rd grader should know" on google searches.
Then I realize I'm not doing as badly as I thought.
I listen to them as they read and make notes about where they need more focus.
I look at their writing and see their continued mistakes (like contractions) and we have a mini lesson about contractions.
We take a break to reevaluate our goals and methods.
Sometimes we take a whole week and do no school work at all.
Then I really start to feel the heat.
I feel neglectful of their education and for some reason that fuels my fire to want to do better.
I talk with other home school moms and find out what works for their kids.
But mostly I pray.
And then I lock myself in my room and have a really good cry and pray some more.
Then we eat lunch and I pray in my mind as the kids chatter away with food in their mouths.
I relish their noise.
Then I feel peace.
That is, until the next thrilling turn of the ride.

Of Men and Angels

2011-02-05T08:48:00.007-07:00

When I was in Jr. High and High school I walked home from school every day.
That does not seem that uncommon, right?
The thing is, I walked 3 miles in blistering heat, rain, and even hail storms a time or two for 6 straight years (starting at 12 years old).
I was not one of those kids whose parents bought them a car at 16.
I was lucky if I had an umbrella.
I did have a job later in high school, but the money was spent helping my mom with rent and utilities on our tiny 2 bedroom apartment.
There was no extra moo-la for a car plus insurance and gas.
No matter the weather, I walked.
For the most part I enjoyed my walks.
I enjoyed the smell of the air when fall came.
I loved shuffling my feet through the fallen leaves scattered on the sidewalks.
I enjoyed smelling the smoke being sent up in big billows from the homes in the neighborhoods when winter came.
I enjoyed watching the dogs in the back yards yip at me from their 10x10 fenced yards.
Sometimes I just liked to be in the sunshine and watch the puffy clouds go by.
I enjoyed the uninterrupted silence and the chance it gave me to dream about my future.
What can I say, I've always been a dreamer.
It gave me a sense of independence and hope for my future.
There were many times in my youth, including my alone time on my daily walks, when I felt I had angles literally following my every foot step.
They seemed so close some times that I felt I could just turn around and start talking to them, yet I knew no one was there.
Even typing this now, over 15 years later, brings back the same feelings I had back then.
The town I grew up in is one of the worst in the entire country, as far a crime rates.
Yet, as a teenager I did not know that.
I do know that on several instances strange men in unfamiliar cars stopped and pulled up along side me, offering me a ride.
I did what the text books say and avoided eye contact and kept walking.
That worked for all but one guy. He was relentless and seemed bent on me getting in his car.
It came to the point where I stopped walking and entered the side yard of one of the houses in the neighborhood to get away from him.
I was praying no one was home, which ended up being the case, thank heaven.
I waited in that strangers back yard until the car finally sped away.
I think I walked faster the rest of the way home that day than I ever had in my entire life.
I have often wondered what could have happened that day if he had not left.
My mind does not like to go to that place.
Last night I was browsing the Internet and I was curious about the crime rate in our local area.
I found some crime reports on the Internet and was actually shocked at how high the rate here is.
I had considered our area pretty quiet.
Then, I went to the crime reports for the town I grew up in.
I found some daunting facts.
It turns out, and I quote, "This city is safer than 2% of the cities in the US."
Talk about bottom of the barrel.
It also says if you live in Stockton you have a 1 in 63 person chance of being a victim of violent crime.
But this is the one that nearly scared my socks right off.
Every year in my beloved home town there are a whopping 407 crimes per square mile.
These stats made my new place of residence seem like utopia.
And to think, I walked thorough 3 of those miles every single school day of the year for 6 years.
OK, that's not true, on the rare occasion I had some spare change I rode the city bus.
But I can honestly say I think I was better off walking.
And yet not a hair on my head was ever harmed, scared to death a few times, but never did anything bad ever happen to me.
So about those angels I was talking about.
I used to think maybe I was a little crazy for thinking I had angels in my midst.
Now, I realize that may have been the only way I ever made it though all those years unscathed.

Stream of Consciousness

2011-01-19T08:55:00.002-07:00

I have hundreds of random thoughts going on in my head this morning.
I think this calls for some serious bullet points.

I put a pregnancy count down thingy over on my side bar. All the cute mommy blogs have them.
I can't decide if I like it or if it's going to drive me crazy over the next seemingly endless 75 days.
75 days!! That's still so far away. *sigh*
It'll probably be even more for me though, like 85 if I'm being realistic. I'm not one of those women who goes into labor even a minute before my due date.
Why is it that as soon as the 3rd trimester hits I feel absolutely enormous? It literally happens over night.
Are you tired of hearing about this pregnancy yet?
But guess what? All in all I have really enjoyed being pregnant, I almost don't want it to end.
Except that I really want to hold my baby.
Do you think the kids will be mad if I don't share?
Can you tell how conflicted I'm feeling?
In other news, I have been sewing and crocheting up a storm over here. I just can't sit still.
I crocheted the cutest little baby sweater.
It's brown. If my baby's a girl I'll add little pink flower buttons and attach a crocheted flower to the lapel. If it's a boy it gets little tan buttons.
I can't wait to put it on my baby.
In yet other news, the kids have made an indoor mailbox. They write each other letters and leave them in there to be found by their siblings.
It's the funnest thing to see their letters. I have even received a few.
School is starting late today because Doodle's still in the shower and I'm blogging. :)
After school we're headed to Wild Wednesday at the nature center. On the program today is Eagles in Winter.
I'm sort of obsessed with eagles, they are so majestic and bold.
I plan on finding out today where they nest in the winter (I know it's somewhere in our mountains) and taking a trip to see them in their natural environment next week.
We'll bring binoculars and trail mix and have a good old time.
Oh, and snow pants and boots and maybe even our sleds.
Anyone want to join us?
I have been craving roast beef and red potatoes for a week.
I finally bought one, but can't make it until tomorrow. My mouth is watering at the thought.
What's your favorite way to make roast beef?
Winter is starting to wear on me.
I am really missing hiking in the mountains and walking along my river pathway.
And the sunshine, I miss the sunshine.
And friends. I miss play dates at the park.
Anyone want to plan an indoor play date? You can come with your children and destroy my house while us big people have some much needed grown up conversation.
Anyone up for a sewing day? I still have lots I want to get done in the next 85 days.
See? Very random today...

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

2011-01-15T09:32:00.003-07:00

Mr Bird and I belong to a couples book club.
We meet once a month (for over 3 years now) and have a pot luck dinner and discuss fabulous works of literature.
We've read Shakespeare and Dante and C.S.Lewis, among many, many others.
This month we decided on a light, fun read.
It was Mr Birds turn to pick and we had listened to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with the kids quite some time ago.
It turns out the book is ever so much better than the movies (imagine that!).
There are little pearls of wisdom that were far before their time.
Take the Oompa-Loompas songs for instance.
In the books they have morals for each of the greedy, naughty children.
My favorite by far was their song for Mike Teavee.
Read the words.
And keep in mind Roald Dahl first published this in 1964.
As you read, think of how much more meaning it has in today's world filled with video games and texting and ipods and iphones and wiis and all the other mindless gadgets we have invented to take away from letting children be children.

"Mike Teavee..."

(from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory)

"The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set–
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotized by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all the shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink–
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSES IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK–HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY...USED...TO...READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic takes
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy–Winkle and–
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How The Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole–
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks–
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something good to read.
And once they start–oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hears. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.
P.S. Regarding Mike Teavee,
We very much regret that we
Shall simply have to wait and see
If we can get him back his height.
But if we can't–it serves him right."

If you want to read all of the Oomp-Loompa's songs (which I highly recommend) go here.

I Need One of Those

2011-01-11T13:11:00.004-07:00

Image stolen from Lara

The week before Christmas I went out to lunch with a friend of mine, Lara.
Her oldest daughter came to my house and watched my children.
Her oldest son, aka Muscles, came with us.
He did not sit and eat with us though.
(Don't worry we fed him pizza before we left)
So what did he do while we enjoyed a quiet table for 2 and over an hour of uninterrupted mommy talk?
He took his new born baby brother and walked around the gift shop and surrounding areas so his mom could enjoy her lunch.
Just as we were finishing our meal the baby woke up, so Muscles brought him to their mom.
We then left the restaurant and stopped for gas on the way home.
Muscles took his mom's credit card and hopped out of the nice warm van and into the frigid winter air.
He proceed to pump her gas while we continued to chat away all nice and cozy in the heated van.
The thing is, she did not even have to ask him to do that. We pulled up and he just did it.
Then we decided to stop at Costco for a few last minute Christmas items.
The baby was hungry so Muscles grabbed the shopping list and headed inside.
We sat in the van while the baby nursed and we had even more adult conversations.
When the baby was done eating we went in Costco to find Muscles with a full cart all ready to check out.
We grabbed a few samples and headed to the checkout stand.
We were there for less than 10 minutes.
My jaw wanted to just hit the ground.
This man child is only 12 years old.
He acted more like an adult.
I was so amazed at how helpful and competent we was.
And he did it all so willingly and happily.
I need one of those in a bad way.
It was like having a personal nanny and personal shopper all in one.
We just sat back and enjoyed the afternoon.
So I have been thinking a lot since our day out.
I need my children to be just like The Lazy Organizer's children.
And I am starting to train them NOW!
I have decided that the next time we go to Costco I will give them each a list of things to get. I'll walk up and down the main isles and let them go get the items from whichever isles they are located and bring them to the cart. This way I can watch them the whole time and they learn to be my personal shoppers.
That way, when they're teenagers they'll be ready to go in and fill my cart and all I'll have to do is go in to pay.
Plus I think Abby's old enough to learn to pump gas, don't you?
I have been thinking about all the little things I do day to day that the kids could be doing.
Sometimes I tend to be a control freak and have to do it all myself, the right way!
But then I started thinking, what is that teaching my children?
It's teaching them to sit back and have meals served to them 3 times a day 7 days a week.
I have always liked cooking, so I don't mind that one at all, but I really want to teach them to love it as well.
Even Mr Bird says he can't cook with me because I just take over and have to do everything my way.
Some how I have to figure out how to let my kids take over some of the kitchen responsibilities.
Sure they do their chores and school work on a daily basis, but there are so many more things I could be exploiting from my children:).
I need to hang out with Lazy much more often and see how she developed these habits in her children.
Maybe I should just move in with her for a few weeks!
I'm sure she would not mind training my children right along side hers, right?

A Change of Heart

2011-01-07T09:17:00.002-07:00

Things are changing around here.
Suddenly I am not so impatient about finding out what this baby is.
I am content.
It was a slow process starting after that last ultrasound when all chance of finding out where gone with the wind.
Maybe it's because I have some really , really cute boy and girl blankets made and ready to go.
I am crocheting a blessing afghan that I will add either pink or blue ribbon to once the baby comes.
I have been scouring crochet website and finding all sorts of cute boy caps and headbands for girls.
All I can say is that I'm going to have baby gifts coming out my ears once this is all over with.
(But only for those people having the opposite gender as me! LOL)
I am having so much fun.
I am happy to sit and sew and dream as this little one tries to break through my skin.
I have come to a place of total acceptance.
I love this little baby so much, it's really hard to explain.
It really does not matter to me if it's a boy or if it's a girl.
Plus, as time goes on and my belly grows bigger and bigger it's really fun to see people's reactions when I tell them we're not going to find out what we're having.
Some people are totally mortified.
They can not think of anything worse than not knowing (OK, I admit it, I used to fall into this category:)
Then there is the older generation who feel as though they have an instant bond with me because, "In my time we had no choice, we HAD to wait."
And wait they did.
Granted, even the boys wore dresses back then. But hey, is all comes out in the end.
There are even some people who think it's cool that I'm waiting. I get things like, "That's neat, nobody does that anymore!"
I'm sure they are really thinking, "That's weird!"
But then again everyone already knows that I'm just about as weird as they come.
I have decided to embrace my inner weirdness and just go with it.
I think I'm to the point now that I'm having so much fun (and I only have 12 more weeks left) that you could not pay me to find out what this baby is.
I am beginning to think it's really fun to torture the people around me as well.
My sisters for example, want me to find out and just tell them, just so they can plan a little.
"We will just not tell Mr Bird!", they say.
Before I have to admit I was really tempted to do that, but not anymore.
I don't know why this sudden change, but I am just happy to enjoy the last part of this pregnancy and dream about this little one.

Christmas Is... (2010 Edition)

2010-12-25T13:14:00.010-07:00

Games at grandpa's house until way past the children's bedtime on Christmas Eve.

New warm soft cuddly jammies to sleep in.
One little boy not falling asleep until way past Santa's bedtime.
Santa stuffing stockings anyway because she can't keep her eyes open anymore.
(Yes, Santa is female at our house)
Same little boy waking up at 1 am to see if he missed the fat man.
Then again at 3.
Mom and dad telling him we're not getting up until 6.
Waking mom and dad up at 6:24 to say we slept in!
Stockings
Presents
Bows
Lights
Love
Each other, all filled with excitement.

Homemade rubber band guns.
Home made play dough.
Home made scarves and aprons.
Sock monkeys.

(Seriously, I'm in love with them.)
New clothes and shoes and books.
Farm toys and an army base.
My favorite gift of all: siting on the couch watching my kids play together and feeling this new little one all wriggly inside me, knowing I don't have to share this baby for another 3 months.

Bubble baths.
Finding out that if you turn the jets in the tub on that it multiplies your bubbles by a million.
Eating stocking suffers for breakfast and lunch.

Not feeling guilty since the stocking were filled with dried fruit and nuts and rice crackers and cheese (and only a few sweets as well).

Afternoon naps all snuggled up with my lover.
Being content to not go anywhere all day long.

Christmas dinner with grandpa.
Eating Christmas dinner on the same china that my grandmother served Christmas dinner on when I was a child.

Reading Luke 2 by the light of the Christmas tree.
A big glass of eggnog before bed.
Having all the kids in bed and asleep by 7:30.
Dreaming about next year.
But most of all, Christmas is love.

Christmas Time is Here

2010-12-23T12:00:00.007-07:00

Wow, December has flown by. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and we are all just ready and waiting for the festivities to begin.
We have had such a fun, but busy month.
First of all, my baby boy turned 3.
I really can't understand it since he was just born last week.
He could not be prouder to be such a big boy.
Man, I sure do love that little person.

Speaking of little people, my nephew Bradley became a father last week.
What a cute little bundle.
I really can't understand that either considering he just turned 12 last month.
OK, not really, but it sure feels that way.
I feel like time is on the fast track again and everyone is aging, except me of course.

And speaking of tracks, last week we took the kids to Temple Square to see the spectacular lights and nativity.
They thought the best part was riding Trax to get there.
Those little boys were in boy heaven on that train.
It was crowded since it was rush hour.
I felt like I was back in Montreal on the Metro again.
I have to say I was in heaven on the train, too.
There were not enough seats for all of us and I insisted on standing, just like the
sardines-in-a-can-Metros of Montreal.
Wow, I can' believe I've been back from there for nearly 11 years.
Surely I can't be getting that old.

We have really enjoyed this Christmas season.
Time at home as a family, waiting for this new baby to get big enough to come out.
We have baked together, brought baked goodies to friends and family.
Doodle thinks that is the best part of Christmas. She is such a giving girl. As soon as we had cookies out of the oven she had a plate of them standing on our neighbors door, ringing the bell, smiling from ear to ear.
We have been busy making gifts for each other.
That is my favorite part of Christmas.
I love seeing the kids get excited to give something to their siblings.
I love the sparkle in their little eyes as they hand each other their gifts.
Priceless!
This year I made each of them sock monkeys.
I hope they like them as much as I do, I'm kind of in love with them.
I also made them each an apron, for all the helping they do with me in the kitchen.
So we are ready and waiting for the big day to come, when we all get to give each other our gifts.
And we get to think and talk about the best gift ever given.
The gift of God's Son to each of us.
The gift of healing and forgiveness and eternal life.

Speaking of eternal life, on Sunday we all met at the grave to remember Mr Bird's mom, who passed away 3 years ago that day.
Again, where has the time gone?
It feels like she was just here with us yesterday.
Sometimes I still expect to see her in the kitchen putting the last minute details of our family meal together.
It is at this time of year I am particularly grateful for the gift of eternal life.
I am so thankful for the sweet knowledge that we will be with our wonderful angel mother again. I miss her so much.
Merry Chirstmas, everyone!

My Aching Heart

2010-12-14T18:52:00.004-07:00

Lately my heart aches more that it ever has my whole entire life.
I can hardly stand it any more.
(This is where I start whining...again.)

Anytime I eat, the pain starts filtering in.
It's just one little twinge of pain to begin with.
Then the pain spreads.
Soon my whole chest feels as though it is on fire.
It hurts to breath, let alone hold myself upright.
I guess it's the pregnancy heartburn.
I don't remember it being this bad with any of my other children, especially this early in the pregnancy.
But I'm trying to be optimistic here.
So maybe this is really a good thing.
The heartburn makes sure I don't ever over eat.
The heartburn hates sweets, of any kind.
This is the first time in my life that I could (and do) pass on chocolate (but only sometimes).
Plus it makes sure I don't eat any scrap of food after 7pm.
Night time snacking has vanished for me.
The good news? Perhaps I will not gain 500 pounds before this little one makes its grand entrance into the world.
So I want to know, if I'm not eating pounds of chocolate by the week, why are my cheeks growing disproportionately large (both pair)!

My Obsession

2010-12-06T14:20:00.005-07:00

Can you tell I'm obsessed about this baby's gender?

Well, I am.
I have looked into every old wives tale in the book.
The Chinese calendar says it's a girl.
Did you even know the Chinese have a calendar to predict the baby's gender?
I guess if there's anyone more obsessed with gender, it would be the Chinese.
It calculates the mothers age at conception and the lunar month during which she conceived.
See?
Makes total sense to me.
But then I have friends who practice foot zoning (don't ask).
One of them looked at my ankles and told me it was a boy.
Then there are all the online quizzes.
Take your wedding ring and dangle it with a piece of thread over you belly.
If it swings in a circle, you are having a girl, but if it swings back and forth it's a boy.
Yes, I actually did this!
The verdict?
Both.
I did it more than once to be sure of the results and it was different every single time.
If the heart rate is over 140 it's a girl.
At my last check up the baby's heart was going faster than Speedy Gonzalez.
At a whopping 160 it must be a girl, right?
Then there's the whole if you're carrying high it's a girl, but if the baby is really low it's a boy.
I have all kinds of issues with this one.
How can you tell if you're carrying low or if your uterus is just sagging to your knees (along with everything else) because this is your 5th child?
So ya, I'm low. I guess it must be a boy.
There is even a question about the hue of your urine.
Huh?
I really did not know how to answer that one.
I guess it depends on how much I've had to drink that day.
I love the question about if you feel more attractive or less during the pregnancy.
I actually laughed out loud.
There's an old wives tale that says it's a girl if you look less attractive because the little girl steals her mothers beauty.
Really?
Are they serious?
If that's the case I must have 5 girls stuffed in there.
I look tired and puffy all the time.
I don't even look good with makeup on anymore.
Forget about even having the energy or desire to put makeup on.
My cheeks are starting to look like a Cabbage Patch doll.
And it's only going to get worse during the next 17 weeks.
I always look like an over stuffed turkey by the time the baby comes.
Even with my boys.
Then there are questions about position and the type of undies the father sports.
yada, yada, yada.
At the end of the quiz the all knowing world wide web gave me a 67% chance of having a girl.
Pretty funny considering that just the fact that I'm pregnant, I already have a 50% chance of having a girl.
Not that convincing if you ask me.

Long story short, I can't believe any of it.
I do, however, have an appointment for my very last ultrasound of the entire pregnancy tomorrow morning.
The fact that an ultrasound tech will be looking directly at my little one and all it's little systems is making me antsy.
She will know my baby's gender.
SHE WILL KNOW!
No guess work, it'll all be in black and white, clear as night and day right in front of her face.
It is going to take all the will power in the universe for me to not peak.
Darn you Mr Bird and that stupid agreement!!!
What was I thinking?
I have talked to lot of women who have decided to not find out what they were having and they tell me how much fun it is.
I think they mean it's fun AFTER the baby gets here.
Because honestly, the waiting may just kill me.
One of them never found out with any of her children (she has 5) and said you could not pay her to find out, she likes the surprise.
Well, I've got news for you Mr Bird, I AM NOT THAT WOMAN!

Nevertheless, I am a woman of my word.
(maybe)

It's a Funny Thing

2010-11-28T18:25:00.002-07:00

Time, it's a funny thing.
Sometimes it seems as if life is zooming by at break neck speeds.
You look at your baby girl and realize she has been here nearly 9 whole years.
That's more than twice as long as high school.
And high school seemed to last FOREVER.
Yet, those 9 years seem to have gone by in the blink of an eye.
Some weeks have barley begun before you are in the weekend again, regardless of weather or not you got all of the items on your to do list completed.
Then there are weeks that drag by, every hour seems to last a whole day.
Then there is pregnancy time.
It's a whole other ball game.
In "normal life" time 18 weeks would fly by and spring would be here tomorrow.
But in pregnancy time 18 weeks may as well be 18 years.
I feel like this baby is never going to be born, like it's just some sort of fantasy.
I feel like the weeks take years, slowly ticking away.
I kept thinking the holidays would speed things up and that Christmas would be here before I could blink, but not this year.
Time is like slow, sticky molasses to me right now.
I suppose I should just enjoy it for once.
I should just enjoy my kids right here where they are and be glad they are not growing so fast, at least for the next 18 weeks that this time warp lasts.
Because we all know that once pregnancy time is over, the post pregnancy time flies by at triple speed.
Before you can even take a hot shower you look down and you have a 1 year old.
Time, it's a funny, funny thing.
And this week, it's torturing me! I hope I can keep my sanity for the next 18 painful, deliriously slow weeks.

True Confessions of a Stay At Home Mom

2010-11-21T17:32:00.002-07:00

When the boys are driving me nuts and I don't have anything else for them to do I put them in the tub, just to get them out of my hair (plus they can always use a bath!)
I have a secret chocolate stash that the kids have no idea even exists
Plus every time I go grocery shopping with out any kids I buy a candy bar or some other treat and eat it all on the drive home, then I hide the evidence
My favorite lunch is cranberry pecan salad with feta cheese (even though I'm not supposed to eat soft cheese while I'm prego)
Sometimes my kids make me laugh so hard I pee a little in my pants (darn pregnancy bladder)
I wait until I have a huge mountain of laundry before they get folded and put away
When Mr Bird gets home from work I am more than happy to let the kids torment him the rest of the evening
What would I do without Mr Bird
Sometimes I take my kids to the library for chess club just so I can see that other people really exist
I secretly like it when I see other people's children being naughty in public
Mine are never naughty in public, only at home (hahahahaahahaha, I kill myself)
Park days save my sanity (it's going to be a very, very long winter)
Every time I get pregnant inside I am so excited that I don't have to watch my weight (at least for a few months)
My desk is the messiest place in the whole house
I need to stop telling all my deep dark secrets
Truth is, I love being a mom, wholes in the couch and all!

The Calm After the Storm

2010-11-20T20:01:00.002-07:00

We all survived the couch incident.
After a few hours to cool off and time to re-asses the damage and reading the sage words of advise from my wonderful blogosphere friends, I realized it was not the end of the world after all.
Beano has been justly dealt with.
We had a nice long talk about taking care of the things God has given us and just what it takes to get those nice things.
There were strict consequences put in place.
Long term consequences.
The damage will not just disappear.
We will not cart away the damaged couch and magically replace it with a new one.
We want him to know that his choices have permanent consequences.
This will not just go away just because we throw some money at it.
So, we have opted to repair the damage the best we can and live with a scarred couch.
Plus what's the point of getting nice couches when the kids are still little? There will be plenty of time for that when the kids are much, much older and more responsible. So what if that's still 15+ years away!
Mr Bird and I hugged Beano and told him that we still love him.
He is after all, our only little Beano.
During the whole thing Beano did feel really bad.
He looked like he wanted to cry.
My heart just about broke for him.
Then I started crying again.
These pregnancy hormones have got to give it a rest already!

Multiple Choice

2010-11-17T12:58:00.003-07:00

What would you do if your 7 year old Heathen did this to your leather couch?

a. Beat him to a pulp
b. Put him in time out for the rest of his life
c. Scream at him until you're blue in the face
d. Lock yourself in your bedroom and cry like a baby

While none of these reactions seem rational, a part of me wanted to do all of the above.
But instead I chose d
Then I called Mr Bird for his counsel.
He told me not to let my pregnancy hormones get too out of control (as I sobbed into his ear piece) and we'd talk to Beano when he got home from work.
So for now he knows something is coming, he just doesn't know what yet.
And quite frankly, neither do I.
How is a parent to respond?
I know it's only a couch, but come on, in reality it is a big deal.
The tear is right on the middle cushion, when we sit on it now it will only stretch and get worse.
Then it's only a matter of time before little fingers start pulling at the exposed stuffing.
It's ruined, completely worthless now, the whole couch.
And what do you do when it's a part of a 4 piece set.
Basically the whole living room set is ruined, totally destroyed.
I can not be the only person in this house trying to take care of our things.
Don't even get me started about what they did on Saturday concerning a box of apples.
I don't want to live in a dump (I had enough of that as a child), but it seems like everyday our kids are trying their darndest to destroy everything we own.
OK, I may be letting my emotions get the best of me and I may be exaggerating just a little.
But really, how am I supposed to shower without the house falling down around my ears?
What can they demolish in the 30 seconds it takes me to empty my bladder?
I'm afraid to find out.
It's like they wait for the moment my eyes wonder away for 2 seconds and something else is drenched with water or scratched or broken.
I am seriously going to loose it.
I am even temped to send them to public school just so I can have a moment of peace, not worrying about the house falling to the ground because I decide to check my e-mail, like every other mother in America gets.
Then I could clean my house in the morning and it might stay that way for 4 whole hours.
That is music to my ears right now...

I bet you're wondering what he used to gouge my couch beyond repair?
Yup, that tiny thing.
It's the blade from a hand held pencil sharpener.
Yesterday Doodle was sharpening a pencil and the little screw worked its way out and the blade went flying. We looked high and low, but it was nowhere to be found.
Well, I guess Beano found it this morning.

So, seriously, I need advise.
How is a parent to respond?

p.s. I really am temped to drive them to the local elementary school in the morning and enroll them all. Please, someone talk me out of it!

In Every Way

2010-11-15T16:23:00.003-07:00

Mr Bird has an entourage.
The very moment he walks in the door he has four little monsters nipping at his heals.
Of course we all know that dad is way cooler than mom, any day of the week.

After all, when was the last time mom took apart her bike and put on new components in the middle of the living room?
Or used a real tool for what it was intended for?
Or used the 12+ year old mission bike for things like grueling mountain bike trails?
Or even knew the first thing about mountain biking?

When Mr Bird goes on a bike ride he is so good to take the kids (the ones who can ride well) with him.
They worship him for that.
That is way more fun than learning math facts and practicing writing.
Why is that the dads get the fun part of parenthood?
I help them with chores and clean their bums and teach them boring stuff like how to read and how America came to be.
I make them clean up their messes and disciple them all day long.
With me they learn to fold laundry and vacuum the floor and to be nice.

With dad it's watching a movie or going on a bike ride or doggy piles on the floor or dancing to the music turned up too loud.
It's no wonder they want to be like him in every way.
You know what? I do too.
He's a pretty cool guy, sure do love him for the wonderful father he is.
I love that we all look forward to him coming home from work every night.
I love that he acts surprised when the kids try to jump out and scare him every. single. night.
I love that he always has a huge hug for all the kids and how he makes each of them feel so special.
I love how he leads our home in love and respect.
I love that he eats my attempts at healthy dinners even when they don't turn out so well.
I love that he loves me.
Plus he's always such an inspiration to me, I feel like he is always lifting me up, helping to make me a better mother and wife.
Call it the pregnancy hormones making this one so corny, but I seriously don't know what I'd ever do without my lover.
So Mr Bird, this day in November, I am oh so very thankful for YOU!

Foiled Again...

2010-11-08T07:24:00.006-07:00

Gender.
It's a big deal when you're expecting.
There are clothes to be bought and blankets to be made.
There are bumper pads and curtains to think about.
I am a planner.
Which bedroom will this little being claim, the girl's room or the boys?
And don't even get me started on names.
Mr bird did not want to find out the gender when I was pregnant with Baby Cakes.
About half way through the pregnancy I could not stand it any more.
Especially since my midwife's office did an ultrasound at every single prenatal appointment.
I told Mr Bird I was planning on finding out the gender at my next appointment and that I'd keep it a secret for his benefit if he would like.
He said if I knew he may as well know, too.
He knows me too well, I'd slip somehow and ruin it for him before the end of the pregnancy.
I had my heart set on a little girl, a sister for Doodle.
When the midwife told me it was a boy I was literally in shock.
I had KNOWN it was a girl.
I nearly started crying. I could not take my eyes off the monitor to look at my family, I would have totally lost it.
Somehow I held it together until I got on the road and then I cried all the way home.
Even then I thought she was mistaken and she'd tell me at my next appointment that I was really carrying a girl.
No such luck, he stayed a boy.
I can admit that now because nearly 3 years later I love that little boy fiercely.
I would not trade him for 100 sisters for Doodle.
He has been the joy and light in our family that I don't think we could ever be without.
SO, back to this pregnancy.
During pregnancy negotiations Mr Bird said I could only get pregnant if we did not find out the gender for really reals this time.
Of course I said yes, I would have said yes to almost anything at that point.
You all know how much I wanted another baby, that sounded like music to my ears.
But now...
I am going crazy.
I can't even walk past the fabric section at Wal-Mart without getting restless.
My brain wants to plan.
I want drawers full of clean baby clothes all ready for the moment the baby comes into the world.
I want coordinating diaper bags and car seat covers.
I want blankets and baby socks galore.
I want to sew something so badly!
And forget about yellow and green everything, I'd rather have a naked baby for months than yellow and green.
So I thought of a plan.
You know how it seems like everyone you know is either having boys or girls at the same time?
They come in waves.
For months everyone has nothing but boys, then suddenly there are no boys to be found and girls top the charts.
For the last year I don't know one single person that has had a girl, they've ALL been boys.
I know 6 women that are due within a month of my due date, my cute niece Tiffany and I even share the very same due date.
I figured I'd just wait to find out what they are all having and I'd just know that my baby would be the same, it's just how these things work.
Well, even that plan has been foiled.
So far 4 of the women have found out what they're having.
Guess what the stats are?
Yep!Girls 2, boys 2.
Now how am I supposed to find out the gender??!?!
Looks like the tides are changing.
The question is, which wave will I be riding?

A Better Way

2010-11-04T16:02:00.002-06:00

Newborn Doodle April 2002

When I was expecting Doodle I had a great idea.
My sister and I were talking about childbirth and she told me of the experiences she had had in delivering her first 3 babies at home with a midwife.
I knew right then and there that I wanted to birth my baby at home.
It seemed so natural and sweet to me. I wanted a quiet birth, on my own turf.
I looked over at Mr Bird and he immediately started shaking his head.
He would not hear one word of any of it.
We were going to the hospital were there are doctors and emergency supplies.
I saw how resistant he was and decided not to push the issue.
I did not get online and research midwives or their safety practices.
I did not read natural child birth books.
I let the doctors and nurses tell me what to do every step of the way.
When the pain got unbearable because of the petocin, I got the epidural.
I was dilated to a 10 and ready to push for 20 minutes before my doctor finally got there and they let me push.
He came for the pushing and was there less than an hour total for the whole 16+ hour labor.
I knew I wanted something different for the next baby.
With every pregnancy home birth was on my mind.
With every pregnancy Mr Bird shot the very idea out of the water.
I found a midwife that delivers babies in the hospitals and she was amazing.
I loved her to death.
She was with me for a lot of labor, helping me to find a better position, telling Mr Bird where to rub my back, fending the nurses off with a stick every time they'd ask if I was ready for an epidural.
I had my boys with no pain meds. She was so great.
I can't tell you the difference between her and that silly doctor.
Still, there were a lot of things that I did not want with those births.
The I.V. bas, the being strapped to the bed (or the general vicinity) to accommodate the fetal monitors and blood pressure cuff.
Nurses in the room every 5 minutes all night long, making sleep a thing only to be dreamed of.
The hospital still had their protocol that I hated.
This time things will be different.
When Mr Bird and I were going through negotiations of weather or not to have another baby we had all but agreed we wanted to add to our family.
He said if we could go the whole pregnancy without finding out the gender, we was game.
He wanted the experience when the baby is born and some one yells, "It's a boy!"
I quickly agreed, and added my demand.
"I want to have this baby at home."
To my udder shock and surprise, he said YES!
To be continued...

Just a Wish

2010-10-28T10:57:00.002-06:00

A goal without a plan is just a wish, as a wise man (I have no idea which one, but I'm sure he was very wise indeed) once said.
That is what I thought of yesterday when I wrote about nesting and not knowing where to start.
I wish my drawers and shelves were clean, but I have no plans as to how to get them that way.
It kept eating at me all day.
I kept thinking that none of this will get done if I don't do something, anything.
So now I have a plan!
It's a really simple plan.
It's not my own, it's what everyone does when they have a huge feat to accomplish.
My plan?
Slow and steady wins the race.
I hereby commit myself to going through at least one cupboard or drawer or closet each and every day.
See? Simple.
Even I can do that.
Last week I cleaned out the bathroom closet. I was amazed at how much stuff I pulled out of there.
Now I feel so good every time I open it.
Everything I need is right where I can find it.
All the stuff I don't need and never used is gone.
I don't have to hunt for 10 minutes to find a light bulb.
I want my whole house to be like that.
Watch out D.I., here I come!

Lazy in My Old Age

2010-10-27T10:07:00.002-06:00

Well, there you go. The title says it all.
I am getting lazy in my old age.
I used to change my decorations to match each and every season.
From Valentine's Day and St. Patty's Day to Easter and 4th of July.
And we can't forget the biggies, Fall (Halloween and Thanksgiving lumped into one) and Christmas.
I used to take my kids to fun and adventurous and educational field trips and activities several times a week.
Between book clubs and Joy School and fun activities and errands, we seldom had a full day where we just stayed home.
I used to make fancy birthday cakes for each and every birthday.
I even used to make homemade Halloween costumes.
I used to craft (not that I was ever any good at it).
I did all of this stuff while preparing fun home school lessons and making sure my kids were reading and writing and doing math everyday.
I never had a mountain of laundry waiting to be folded.
I used to be super mom, literally.
Now, I feel so lazy.
By the time I get to laundry it's so out of hand that I just feel overwhelmed.
I still love to prepare healthy yummy food, I think it'll always be my passion.
We still do school everyday, but I feel like I've let a lot go.
I don't know if it's because my priorities have changed and a lot of that stuff does not seem important anymore or if I'm just really, really lazy.
Now we spend more days at home not going anywhere at all than not.
I love our morning routine and snuggling with my kids for scriptures.
I love reading to them and watching the little ones develop into readers, too.
I love hearing my children play together.
I love coming upstairs to find the living room transformed into a gigantic fort using every blanket from their collective beds.
I love that my kids want to cook with me and just be with me.
I don't want to spend time away from home anymore because I just love being here with my kids.

I do think my motives and priorities have changed drastically over the last few years.
For example, it's really hard to make a designer birthday cake without a gallon of artificial food coloring.
It has become more important to me to create healthy, natural food (yes, even cake) than to have the fancy design.
So now I go with simple and tasty.
And you know what? My kids don't even bat an eye.
They're just happy to be eating cake!
And you want to know what else, they have not said a word about my Spring decorations that are still up either.
Considering it's nearly Halloween, the Fall decor will have to wait until next year, if at all.
I think I'll be doing good to get a Chirstmas tree up this year.
I am ready to just have some simple and cute decorations and just leave them there all year long.
Think of the storage space I can reclaim by getting rid of all those boxes and bins of plastic Easter eggs and four leaf clovers.
Now there's a novel idea!
The only problem?
It has become like the laundry pile, there's so much STUFF that I don't know where to begin to filter through it all.
I am having the nesting urge so badly.
I just want to clean every drawer and cupboard and shelf and get rid of all the junk we seem to collect.
The only problem is I have no idea where to begin, then my laziness takes over so I do nothing.

Leave are Falling All Around

2010-10-17T19:30:00.004-06:00

Last week we took our annual trip to the mountains to see the fall leaves in all their glory.
As usual, it was beautiful.
The leaves are so spectacular this time of year, especially the maples.

I have a love/hate relationship with Fall.
I love the chilly evenings and gorgeous foliage.
I love that I can make soup for dinner and not sweat to death while we eat.

I love having a reason to make as many pumpkin recipes as I can think of.
Everything from pumpkins chocolate chip cookies to my newest favorite, pumpkin chili.
I love walking on our favorite pathway and stopping so we can literally watch the leaves fall before our very eyes, and the soft sound they make as they whoosh to the ground.
Really, what's not to love?

The only part of Fall I dread is the end of it.
Because that means it will be winter and that means endless cold and wet and snow.
I am already dreading that.
The California girl in me wishes we could skip the Utah winters all together.

Especially this year, because when Spring comes, so does this baby!

I'm Sorry, So Sorry

2010-10-12T19:32:00.002-06:00

Dear Mom in Wal-Mart I saw the Other Day With the Screaming Child,

I realized as I made my way out of the store the other day that you probably thought I was staring at you and judging you harshly because of your toddler who was throwing a doozey of a tantrum. You were probably embarrassed enough without noticing that I was staring at you. I'm sorry I stared, really I am. I was not judging you. I was having the thought that I was glad it was not my child this time. Because trust me, I have had my share of grocery store melt downs. If I were to write down all of my "fun" grocery store moments with the children over the years I could fill a novel. In fact it is rare that I get away to the store without any children. You probably thought I had none, since that was one of the rare occasions I got to enjoy a few moments of peace shopping solo. Truth is, I have twice as many children (with another on the way, I might add) as you had with you. Our moments have ranged from mildly funny to embarrassing to the point that I vow never to take my children in public ever again. In fact the very next day it was my toddler melting down in the very same Wal-Mart (don't ask why I was there 2 consecutive days). It was then that I felt really badly for allowing myself to be caught staring at you. So from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry!
Love, Me

With a Bump on the Head

2010-10-04T20:37:00.007-06:00

Happy Birthday Beano!
Glow in the dark candles and everything.

We have this weird tradition that I had never heard of until I married into Jay's family, of bumping the birthday boy (or girl) on the head with the gift.
We have a chant that goes with it.
"Heavy, heavy hang over thy poor head, what do you wish with a bump on the head!"
See, it's weird.
It's usually fine unless the gift is a brand new BMX bike.
Then it gets a little awkward.
But really, I can't believe how fast my kids are growing up.

Dear Beano,

You are becoming such a good little man. I love how you want to be just like daddy. If you ask me, he's not a bad person to be like. You follow him around fixing things and taking care of your little brothers. You are becoming so responsible and obedient. Of course you still have that mischievous side. You are all boy. You're never happier than when your blazing down a super steep hill at top speed on that fancy new bike with a huge grin on your face, giving your mother a heart attack. You've got the battle wounds to show. At this moment every elbow and knee is skinned along with one on your ankles. But that does not stop you for a second. You have such joy in everything you do. Whether it's singing while you do dishes or running around the yard with a stick that's twice as long as you are. You always have a grin on your face, ready to have fun. Thank you for being such a great kid. I love being your mom and watching you grow. I talk big about keeping you small forever, but part of me loves watching you grow and can't wait to see the man you'll become. I love you and Happy Birthday!
Love, Mom

Consider the Lilies

2010-09-25T09:56:00.003-06:00

A few mornings ago I woke up with a massive head ache.
My first awaking thought was wondering when this seemingly never ending pregnancy head ache would go away.

When I became more cognizant I realized it was awfully early for a head ache.
They usually don't grace me with their presence until after dinner.
As I made my way to the bathroom the first glimpse of myself in the mirror was considerably more scary than usual.
Was it the hair?
Nope, same frizz as usual.
Was it the pale lips and skin in general?
Nope, Same pallor every morning of my life.
The eyes, it was the eyes.
They were puffy and swollen and I looked awful.
Then I put 2 and 2 together.
The reason for the puffy eyes and throbbing head?
I had literally cried myself to sleep the night before.
There have been a couple of local news stories lately that have really hit me hard.
I don't watch the news, I heard about these from other people.
I'm sure I didn't get all the details, nor do I want them.
It's enough to know that these poor innocent children went through hell on earth.
I don't know if it's the pregnancy hormones or the fact that I have children the same ages as all of the children victums, but these stories have really messed with my head.
It has been a few weeks now and I still can not get them off my mind.
The night that I cried myself to sleep my mind would not stop thinking about those children's moments of suffering and it tore my heart from my chest.
There is so much about this world that I hate.
I hate that children have to suffer.
Then the words to one of my favorite hymns came into my head.

"Consider the sweet tender children who must suffer on this earth.
The pains of all of them He carried from the day of His birth.
He clothes the lilies of the fields.
He feeds the lambs of His fold.
And He will heal those who trust Him.
And make their hearts as gold."

~Consider the Lilies

Suddenly I was picturing those children wrapped in His arms.
The gratitude I felt for my pains that have been healed became palpable.
Two of the children did not survive.
Their last moments on earth were nothing less than horrific.
As I pictured them walking arm in arm with our Savior I felt their burden lift.
The other child survived.
She must live the rest of her life with the wounds and scars of what happened to her.
I pray with all my heart she can find the peace in His love that she needs, that will heal her.

These stories are not unique to my area.
Things like this are happening all over the world these days.
I'm sure you can all think of similar stories from your own local news stations.
The need for our Savior is universal.
He sees the ugliness in the world and we can find refuge from the storm in His loving arms.

My Mountains

2010-09-08T18:46:00.002-06:00

Every week there's a new mountain to move.
Just when I think I have it conquered, it somehow sneaks back in and the next thing you know, there I am moving the veritable same mountain, week after week.
This relentless mountain?
Laundry
Let's just say it: it's never really DONE.
Because just when you think every stitch is clean and folded and put in its proper place some kids sits in mud or pees their pants or wipes boogers all down their sleeves.
(Kids are disgusting, I'm just sayin.)
Then, magically, the same mountain you just moved starts to reappear.
It's a funny thing, that laundry pile.
I remember when it was just Mr Bird and I and we were expecting Doodle.
I received tons of cute girl baby clothes from family and friends.
Before she was born I'd sit for hours and fold them and imagine my baby in them and place them in the correct drawers or hangers.
Then, when she was born I washed all of her clothes separately with Dreft,
a laundry soap formulated just for baby's super sensitive skin.
I loved folding her cute little clothes and seeing that little pile appear out of seemingly no where.
With each new baby the best part of laundry has been finding the miniature clothes and watching the tiny pile grow.
And for some reason the prospect of another new tiny pile makes laundry almost bearable again.
Almost...

Showing Up

2010-09-04T14:07:00.005-06:00

I keep having these blog posts writing themselves inside my brain.
The problem is that I have not had the energy or desire to sit at the computer and write them.
So there they sit, day after day, in my brain along with the list of chores that need done and the groceries that need bought.
I forgot how much energy it takes to create a new person.
Or maybe I'm older now than I have ever been with any of my other babies and I've become a wimp.
Either way, my whole life feels neglected right now.
Except home school.
That's the one thing that's thriving.
I have plenty of time to be on the couch and read to my children or have them read to me or help with math and writing.
It has been fabulous.
Beano is reading better than ever and is starting to really love it.
He'll bring me his beginning readers and ask to read to me several times a day.
I love it.
But that is not what this post is about.
A few days ago I posted this on facebook:

"Now Hiring: personal chef. 3 week contract (or until the morning sickness passes). I'll pay what I'd normally make doing the same job (nothing). Any takers?"

I meant it as a joke and plus I was bored and wanted comments.
Well, this is one of the comments I got from just about one of the best people that I know.

"Sara, I'm busy tomorrow but I'd be happy to take the dinner shift on Thurs. Just have the ingredients & instructions out for me, I'll be there @5. Also, have you tried ginger or mint? They're tummy settlers, I've heard. Love ya!"

I tried to tell her she did not really need to come make me dinner, but she did.
She showed up on my door step just when she said she would.
She cooked my raw chicken *gag* and we chatted as dinner practically made itself.
After she left I got to thinking about her wonderful act of kindness.
I thought about how many times I've had the thought to do something for someone and I put it off until I forgot I even had the thought in the first place.
*Shameful*
But not Cindy the Great.
She showed up.
How great would this world be if we all showed up more often.
How much suffering could we eliminate if we acted on all those little thoughts we have?
Isn't that part of why we're here?
To learn compassion and service and love.
Because can we really love someone until we spend time serving them?
Weather it's making dinner or just two girl friends chatting, it's all in the name of service.
What woman do you know who can be happy and sane without a good gab session every once in a while?
So yes, even a good chat is a form of service in my eyes.
It makes us see that we are not the only ones with pain.
It makes us look outside our ever selfish world and actually see others and their pains and their joys and their trials.

"Have I done any good in the world today?
Have I helped anyone in need?
Have I cheered up the sad or made someone feel glad?
If not I have failed indeed.
Has anyone's burden been lighter today, because I was willing to share?
Have the sick and the weary been helped on their way?
When they needed my help was I there?
Then wake up and do something more
Than dream of your mansion above.
Doing good is a pleasure, a joy beyond measure,
A blessing of duty and love."
Hymn #223

It's time to get our tooshies in gear, including my own (as soon as I feel better!)
The world needs more like you, Cindy!

P.S. the fonts turned out really weird in this post and I don't know how to fix it, so there you go. Weird fonts and all.

Joy in the Journey

2010-08-23T12:52:00.002-06:00

Oh look, I still have a blog.
I wonder if after the tumble weeds pass if there will be anyone left to read.
If not, that's OK, I still have me, myself and I to write for.
School starts this week.
It seems like just yesterday all of our cousins would be home and there was the promise of endless Summer nights and gallons of lemonade in our future.
All the lemonade has been guzzled and all the nights have faded.
We had a wonderful Summer filled with park days, the rodeo, fire works, watermelon, swimming, parades, horse rides, camping, hiking, music filled Sunday evenings and much, much more.
It's time to turn our focus back to our family routine.
I love our routine.
When I think about it I get a nice comfortable feeling.
It keeps me sane.
I have slowly been easing back into it for the last few weeks and this morning was a sheer joy.
I love home schooling my children.
While others are having back to school hoopla, we are eating our regular breakfast and doing our regular jobs and cuddling up on the couch (all 5 of us) for our morning devotional and the beginning of our "school day".
I love having my children close and reading scriptures together.
Today we read about the creation.
It seemed appropriate.
I love reciting and memorizing with my children.
I love to hear even the baby-who's-not-a-baby-anymore repeat the words we say.
He's one of us now, you know.
He's a big kid and he does literally everything the others do.
I love Doodle bringing me her math book and showing me the 7 pages she completed.
I love hearing the stories they write.
I love hearing my kids read their first words.
Today that is just what Dubs did.
We were playing with the alphabet flash cards and I laid out the "a" and the "t".
He read them.
Then I put the "c" in front and he read "cat".
Then we changed the cards from "c" to "h", "b", "f", "m", "n" and he read "hat", "bat", "fat", "mat", "nat".
He thought it was the best thing ever.
He laughed uncontrollably the whole time.
Meanwhile I was stunned that my little boy was reading real words, simple as they may be.
It's like he's on the edge, just ready to embrace it all.
I really do love this journey.
I have so many goals for this year, I am so excited.
The big one of course is to get through this pregnancy so I can love on that new baby.

Number Five

2010-08-12T17:47:00.004-06:00

I'm pretty sure 5 is a lucky number.
At least it is for me.
I am so excited I can hardly contain myself, literally.
Mr Bird told me I had to wait until my first doctor's appointment to say anything about baby number 5, who is due to join our family April 2, 2011.
Well, today was my lucky day.
I told Mr Bird that I would not be able to wait that long until I spilled the beans, especially to people like my sisters and favorite nieces and certain family members and good friends.
I think half the world already knew before today.
So if you already knew our big news consider yourself in at least one of those categories.
What can I say, I just can't keep my mouth shut.
From the moment I knew for sure I felt like I would bust at the seams with excitement.
Part of me was a little nervous though.
I had fears of twins.
A friend of mine recently had a pretty ugly ectopic pregnancy (love you girl) and for some reason that put the fear in me.
Every little twinge of pain would throw me into sheer terror.
I had not experienced that terror with any of my other pregnancies.
So seeing our single little bean in the right place with it's fluttering little heart beat on the monitor today instantly put my fears to rest.
I was struck by how tiny and vulnerable this little being is.
I was struck by how much I love my baby already.
I just can't wait, it's going to be a long 9 months!
I guess this means Baby Cakes need a new bloggy name.
Any ideas?

SODAS

2010-08-11T20:51:00.005-06:00

Guess what? I have really good news!
I have a reader!
I am so excited about this.
I really thought I was just writing to myself and stuff, but as it turns out someone actually reads my psycho babble.
I guess last week when I posted about The Ladder I mentioned SOADS and I never followed up on what they were.
My reader pointed out my error
(truthfully, I did not even remember I'd promised to explain. I'm getting old).
So here we go, SODAS is one of the little secrets I learned from Nicholeen Peck.
I use them all the time and I love them.
The kids, not so much, but I'm sure they will once they become parents.
SODAS is an acronym for Situation, Options, Disadvantages, Advantages, Solution.
So when a child is in 24 hour consequence they get to practice SODAS, a lot.
I give them a situation, for example: Your brother knocks down your block tower.
The child then has to come up with 3 options for his reaction.
For example he might say, "I could get mad and hit him or I could go tell mom or I could chose to share the blocks and build another tower with my brother."
Then we take it one step farther and he comes up with 3 Disadvantages for each option.
For example, the disadvantages of getting mad and hitting would be a time out, or the brother could hit back or his brother could get hurt.
He comes up with 3 for EACH option.
Then he comes up with three Advantages for each option.
For example, the advantages of getting mad and hitting might be the brother does not want to play anymore so I get all the blocks to myself, etc.
A lot of times they can't come up with advantages for bad behavior, or disadvantages for a good option.
Thus, they teach themselves the lesson by thinking it through and problem solving rather than me lecturing all the time.
Because we all know that when mom starts talking they tune out.
This is a brilliant way for the kids to teach themselves the things they need to learn to get along in the real world.
From Nicholeen's blog:
"The idea is that your child will become so natural at doing mental SODAS that they will problem solve all of life's problems, by the time they are adult age. By the time youth reach age 18 they should have all the basics of problem solving down, so that they can achieve their goals and lead out in their communities. "
I love this. As parents, it's our job to help our children to become reasonable and responsible adults.
I can't think of a better way to meet that end.
Cause and effect.
The last 'S' is for solution.
After talking about all the advantages and disadvantages they choose which option they think is the best and this is their solution.
Sometimes, just to be ornery, they still will say, "I'd chose to get mad and hit!"
And that is fine with me.
Again,from Nicholeen:
"Remember, whatever they choose to pick during the SODA is OK. Don't try to make them pick what you think is right. After going through the exercise, they know what is right, but sometimes they will test you to see if you really want them to choose for themselves, or if you want them to just choose what you think they should choose. Let them choose, and then if they choose a bad choice, simply say, "It is very interesting that you chose to... I am so glad that I know how you would handle this situation...This helps me better be able to decide what kinds of situations I can allow you to be in and not be in."
As long as they know that when they chose that behavior, the consequences will follow.
They, in essence, hand pick their consequences.
Doodle is to a point where she writes this out like an assignment, it's way better than writing, "I will not hit my brother." on the chalk board 100 times.

Beano and Dubs don't have terrific writing skills yet, so it's verbal with them.
I love getting in their brains and making them think and see the lights come on.
Baby will come to love them in time as well, I'm sure of it.
You really do need to read Nicholeen's post about SODAS, she's amazing.
Happy SOADS everyone, and Happy Birthday TO ME!
P.S. thanks for reading!

Dream Number 5,297

2010-08-06T18:56:00.003-06:00

My Blog.
In my dreams I post on my blog at least once a day.
I always have something witty and thought provoking to say.
People come back day after day to laugh at the musings of me.
They just can't get enough.
I have tons of followers and people just want to give me stuff because they like me.
While all of this is happening I spend quality one on one time with each of my children every day.
I still make beautifying and cleaning my home a top priority.
In fact it's so clean all the time you could eat off the tile in the kitchen if you really wanted to.
I prepare gourmet organic meals 3 times a day and my children love and eat every bite of their meals.
We never waste food because we know there are starving children in Africa.
Laundry is always clean and perfectly folded and tucked neatly away in dressers and closets.
There is never a stray sock to be seen littering the bathroom floor.
I never yell or scream or nag at my children.
My children get up in the morning and spend several hours studying music and math and history without even a word of encouragement from me.
I spend my time in service projects to better our local community.
I teach all kinds of home school co-ops and our home school friends think of our house as their second home.
I bake fresh cookies several times a week to share with visitors and sick neighbors.
Sound out of reach?
Maybe, but I'm working on it.
I have such ideas about my ideal life and, as you can see, I fall short every day.
Really though, I feel so guilty when I neglect my blog for so long.
Maybe when all my kids leave home for bigger, better lives I can find a spare moment or a shred of energy to stay caught up.
For now, I guess you'll just have to take what you can get.

The Ladder

2010-07-22T13:13:00.003-06:00

We have started a new system in our house that has been working miracles.
My kids are suddenly doing jobs without me asking them to.
If I don't make my bed as soon as I get up, some little person is in there making it for me.
Dubs went to bed distraught one night worried that there would not be enough jobs to do the next day.
What 5 year old do you know who's worried about not having enough jobs?
My kids are generally more kind to each other.
Arguing? Gone.
Back talking? None.
Rolling of eyes and general disrespect? No more.
When I ask them to do something they say, "OK, mom!" with a smile on their face and they run to do it.
Sound too good to be true?
Well, let me tell you, it's really not.
It's ever so much simpler than I could have ever imagined.
It's called The Ladder.
It's heaven sent.
I stole the idea from a friend, then modified it to fit our family.
I am thinking about modifying it again now that we've been doing it for a few weeks, just to tweak a few things to better suit us.
The Ladder is basically a list of privileges, I have listed 10.
Things the kids like and that are super cool are at the top of The Ladder.
Things that are boring and even undesirable are at the bottom of The Ladder.
Each child has a button (stuck on with poster tack) on The Ladder to mark where they are.
They move up The Ladder for good behavior as invited to do so by either myself or Mr Bird.
If we notice a child being kind or sharing without being asked, we invite them move their button up one level.
If two children are fighting or if they argue after being given an instruction they are invited to move their button down one level, thus losing a privilege.
The children can have any privilege that his button is on or any of the ones below his button.
Here's what our Ladder looks like right now.

Alone time with Mom and Dad (if a child has his button on this level they will be invited to make a run to the hardware store with Daddy or may be invited to go on date night with mom and dad or some other sort of one on one time with one or both of us.)
Screen Time (computer or movie)
Play Day with Friend
Personal bedtime story (after prayers and the family bedtime story, I pull each child who is at or above this level one at a time to read a story of their choice. Beano and I are reading Indian in the Cupboard and he loves it. He is never below this level for fear of missing this.)
Make Dinner with Mom (my kids love to do this and fight over whose turn it is. Doodle's night is Monday, but if she's below this step on The Ladder she will have to miss her turn. Beano gets Tuesday, Dubs gets Wednesday, Baby gets Thursday and Friday is date night. We just wing it on the weekends.)
Family activity (park, museum, Ogden Nature Center, hike, etc. All the kids must be on or above this level)
Play outside during free time
Snacks (I put this pretty low on The Ladder because I wanted them to all be able to have snacks, but it they are really naughty they miss eating a snack, which is a fate worse than death in this house)
Fold a batch of laundry (I always can use help in this department)
Dish Duty! (When dishes need done the person at the bottom of The Ladder gets to do them, no questions asked)

To them it's like a real life version of a board game.
They have a visual of where they are and it has been miraculous for us.
Here are some tips and general rules for our family.

Any hitting or pushing or biting or pinching or anything of that nature is automatically 3 steps down.
Telling a lie is 3 steps down.
Most any other bad behavior is one step down. Such as back talking, eye rolling, arguing, yelling at sibling, unkindness and selfishness, etc.
Good behavior is one step up, such as doing something for the family without being asked, sharing, obedience, using kind words, helpfulness, etc.
Our world does not stop to accommodate a privilege. They are only allowed to have screen time after dinner is cleaned up, not anytime they want it just because their button is there. Play days with friends must be arranged before hand and will be canceled if the child does not stay at or above that level. These privileges must fit in our regularly scheduled programing.
If someone moves someone else's button they go down one.
If they ask if they can move up because of some deed or kindness the answer is automatically no. They must wait to be invited. They are allowed to tell me that they did an extra job, then I determine if they go up or not.
If a child is at the bottom and ends up falling off The Ladder that means they have earned a 24 hour consequence. That means no privileges for 24 hours. The only things they are allowed to do during those 24 hours are jobs, SODAS (I'll post about those later), and school work. Their world literally stops for them and they do not have the opportunity to get back on the ladder or start going back up until the 24 hours are over.
Where I put them back on after the 24 hours depends on their behavior during the 24 hour consequence. If they were horrible and thew fits at every instruction or refused to be helpful, I'll put them at the bottom level where they risk falling off again and must work hard to get back up. If they were super obedient and had a good attitude and were kind to the family I'll put them at or near the top. If they are just OK, but not horrible, I'll put them near the middle.
If a child is near the bottom it usually means they need a little more love and attention from me or Mr Bird. In that case I spend time looking in their eyes and talking to them, it seems to be just the boost they need and before I know it they are kind and I can find opportunities to invite them to move up.
If I'm grumpy they all seem to end up near the bottom, go figure.
This has given them personal responsibility for their actions. It shows them immediate consequences for their choices. I don't have to get upset, I just let the lack of privilege do the teaching.
Baby has a button, too. he moves it around willy nilly, but does not really understand the concepts yet. He has to be part of it though. I'm training him for later.

This is really long.
I hope it makes sense.
I really love it!

Confessions of a Desperate Housewife

2010-07-16T20:54:00.002-06:00

Some days I just feel exhausted.
Like someone has connected a wire to my insides and just started sucking all the life out of me.
I feel drained and unmotivated.
I had a million things to do today and only got to about 1/3 of them.
I have been walking around since I woke up with my work out clothes on in hopes of getting my work out in.
But it never happened, so I never showered or bothered to change out of them or even comb my frizzy ponytail hair.
By the time Mr Bird got home I was ready for some quiet.
But since our baby sitter canceled I knew our weekly date night was out of the question.
So I did what any desperate house wife would do.
I thew on some shoes and made my way to Wal-Mart.
How sad is it that I look to Wal-Mart for a refuge of peace and quiet.
That must tell you how my day was.
I would have gone to Target, but I was not dressed for Target.
You know those web sites with pictures of shamefully dressed people walking the isles of Wally World?
I could have put some of those people to shame.
My hair was haphazardly thrown in a ponytail, my workout clothes were limp and ugly from a day of cooking and cleaning.
I did not realize how much pumpkin pie and mashed potatoes I was wearing on my shirt until I looked down in the store.
I spent the rest of my shopping trip Praying I would not see someone I know and crossing my arms over my shirt to hide the stains.
Classic.
Beautiful.
Shameful.
I looked like a home school mom.
I looked like one of those cats that has been thrown in a tub of water with an awful expression, whose eyes seem too big for the rest of its pitiful little self.
If you had seen me today you would have either laughed or stared in utter amazement.
I was truly a sight to behold.
Tomorrow, I am showering first thing!

Go Brad!

2010-07-15T18:56:00.006-06:00

Yet another dream come true!
Not only did I get to be in a parade, I got to be in charge of the float and boss people around.
As head of the parade committee, I also was in charge of organizing all 5 local parades in the span of 2 weekends.
Man, what a ride!

We all had a total blast, most of the time.
Between an unexpected death in the family just a few days before the first parade and finding a new lead fiddler, we were definately feeing the pressure.

As you can see, we opted to forgo the equestrian route.
We did not feel any of our horses were parade ready at this point.
You know horses and loud unexpected sounds.
Some horses are used to it after lots and lots of training, or they get a big dose of tranquilizers before such big events.
Since we were not willing to drug our animals, we opted for the next best thing.

Live country music, of course!
My cute nieces Jeni and Jordana we on fiddles, Mr Bird on his coolest ever bass, Mama Lisa on guitar and Justin the Great on banjo.
It was an all out moving Howe Down complete with near deafening sound system!
My job was to walk beside the trailer and giver Otter Pops and American flags (with Brad Galvez stickers attached) to the cute kids in the crowd.

And there he is, the man himself, larger than life.
Two Saturdays in a row we had an early parade and then we rushed to the next local city just in time to sneak in their line up and do it all over again.
The mornings were early (even for us) and the heat and excitement of it all was exhausting.

Baby Cakes (whose not really a baby anymore) had the very important job of waving the flag from the back seat of the truck at all the cute girls.
He rocked!
As you can see, it was too much for my little man.
As soon as we hopped in the truck to head back to our vehicles, he was out like a light.
It seriously only took 3 seconds!

Even so, who can resist a spontaneous post parade horse ride party in grandpa's shady back yard?
Not my little man, he's never happier than he when he's on a horse!

Was it all I dreamed it would be?
Will I ever do something this crazy again?
Were my kids on a sugar high for the next 3 days straight?

Yes, Yes and YES!

Only next time, one parade per year is good for me!

Back to Basics

2010-07-07T10:11:00.006-06:00

Have you noticed that I love food?
I love to make food, I love to eat food and I love to feed those I love the wonderful creations I create.
I have been on a sour dough kick again.
Yesterday it was sour dough waffles for breakfast.
Today I made sour dough bagels.
They are to die for.
I could eat those everyday for the rest of my life and be perfectly happy.
Tonight for dinner we will have tortillas made with sour dough and tomorrow I'm making sour dough English muffins.
I can hardly wait!
I love nothing more than making healthy food and then watching my family enjoy it.
I love how these recipes have such few and simple ingredients, yet they taste divine.
I am ruined forever.
I started this journey in a quest for a healthier life style, but now I think I'm just spoiled.
I can't eat store bought bagels any more.
They taste like cardboard.
Homemade ones are chewy on the outside and super soft and moist on the inside.
They are not all the same exact cookie cutter shape.
They look hand crafted, I can see each imperfection in their shape and it makes me happy.
It's the same with everything I make.
The store bought version just seems like a sorry excuse for the real thing.
It's like the difference between picking a super red and juicy tomato from the vine and eating it while it's still warm from the sun's rays and then getting a tomato from the store that is almost red and has been sitting in a warehouse refrigerator for heaven only knows how long.
They are both a tomato, but if you've ever eaten one fresh you know what I'm talking about.
Pulling a warm, chewy cookie off the still hot cookie sheet is ever so much more satisfying than opening a package and eating the sad excuse for the same thing.
Sometime people give me flack for the way we eat.
I wonder why?
Really, store bought and fast food has only been available in the massive quantities that is today for the last 50 years or so.
Think of the whole rest of the history of the earth.
What did people eat then?
There were no Super Wal-Marts filled with man made flavors and preservatives at people's finger tips.
People ate what they could grow or what they could trade for.
And you now what? That simple way of eating not only works, but it tastes better and is infinitely better for you.
I know you all think I'm crazy, and I admit that I probably am.
But honestly, it seems a lot more crazy to me to fill my kids full of additives just because I'm too busy or tired or lazy to make them real food.
I mean that with all the love possible, but seriously, it's time to get back to basics.
The American diet is killing us.
It's making us fat and depressed and sick.
Did you know that if the current trends continue our children's generation is the first generation on average whose life expectancy will be significantly shorter than their parents.
That means that our children will die before us.
That is totally backwards.
Here's another scary fact.
If a child eats 2 bowls of sugar cereal a day until they are 12 years old, they are 100% sure to have diabetes by the time they are 18 years old.
Sad. Scary. Totally Unnecessary.
The good news? 100% preventable.
Make a change, any change.
Start small.
Stop buying cereal.
Make breakfast for a week straight.
It's summer time, we have time.
Make granola or muffins or a smoothie or pancakes or french toast or oatmeal (not the sugar boxed kind!).
Make anything, anything would be better than almost any cereal you can buy.
Try it for a week, even if the kids complain.
Trust me, you'll be glad you did!
We have got to see it for what it is and make a change.
At least Jamie Oliver agrees with me!

A Decade

2010-06-19T19:40:00.004-06:00

I have a problem.
I have been struggling with his problem for almost a decade.
It's really embarrassing to me because usually, the man in the relationship is the one with this problem.
Do you want to know what it is?
OK, come in close and you have to promise not to tell anyone.
I always get our wedding anniversary wrong.
I always think it's 3 days later than it actually is.
Let's be clear, I have never forgotten it altogether, but for some reason it has stuck in my brain as the wrong date.
When our first anniversary approached, I was sure I was right and that Mr Bird was off his rocker.
He had to pull out our wedding certificate to prove he was right.
I put my tail between my legs and admitted defeat.
There have only been a handful of times in the last 10 years when I have actually gotten it right.
So it was no surprise when I got it wrong, yet again this year.
I thought Mr Bird was being romantic and thoughtful when he whisked me away for a romantic anniversary get away earlier this week.
I knew he was running the Wasatch Back this weekend and I foolishly thought he was planning ahead so as not to miss our anniversary while running the race.
I had it in my head that he would be running his race on the day of our anniversary.
So I did what any good wife would do and called him this morning bright and early and sang the lame-o, cheesy Happy Anniversary song to him as he waited to run the next leg of the 188 mile rely race.
I thought, he's going to love that I remembered it right this year and he'll be so impressed that I said it first.
When I finished my song there was an awkward pause on the line.
Then Mr Bird just laughed out loud, the biggest belly laugh I've heard in quite some time.
What? Is my singing really that bad?
Then he asked what today was.
I told him, "June 19, our anniversary!"
Another laugh.
He ever so sweetly reminded me that I was wrong, yet again.
How can I possibly keep making this same mistake?!?
It's really shameful and silly.
From now on I think I'll check the wedding announcement we have hanging in our living room at the beginning of June just to be sure.
For the record, we had a fabulous anniversary.
Mr Bird would not tell me what he had planned, just that I needed to clear my calendar for a couple of days.
We dropped the kids of with my In-Laws and headed to Salt lake.
We shopped for a while, then Mr Bird took me to my all time favorite Chinese restaurant.
Then we went to Hale Center Theater and watched The Wedding Singer.
Hilarious. I loved all the 80's references, ah, the good old days.
Then Mr Bird and I spent the night at the Anniversary Inn in Salt Lake City.
It's a little bed and breakfast in an old Victorian house.
It was so charming.
My favorite part was watching the magnificent thunder and lightening and rain storm from the turret in our room. Then in the morning the sun was shining and the whole world was green and awake as we ate breakfast (that I did not have to prepare) in the same turret.
By the time we left we were looking at Victorian homes online.
They are so charming and beautiful.
Then reality set in and we came home to our noisy kids and never quite clean enough house with the endless yard work waiting to be done.
We had such a fabulous time while it lasted.
It was so peaceful and perfect. All we had to worry about was if the bath water was too hot or if we'd eaten too many chocolate fudge cookies.
We took our original honeymoon to San Francisco and stayed at a Bed and Breakfast there.
We hardly left the room (ahem), we fell in love with that place.
It was so fun to do the same thing closer to home a decade later.
Thank you Mr Bord for a wonderful anniversary.
I loved every minute of it.
One decade down, eternity to go!

I Just Can't Get Enough

2010-06-18T19:23:00.003-06:00

I love Cream Cheese.
There, I said it.
Actually what I should have said was, "Hello, my name is Sara and I'm a Cream Cheese-aholic."
Right under chocolate, there are few guilty pleasures I enjoy more.
Now, you may be thinking, there's nothing wrong with a little cream cheese every once in a while and you'd be right.
The problem is this: when I buy cream cheese, I don't eat just a little smear on my bagel.
As a matter of fact I don't buy it very often because I just can't be trusted when it's in the house.
I will find anything to dip in it or to smear it on top of.
Stale box of crackers no one will touch?
Cream cheese makes it all better.
The key is to load the cracker up with so much cream cheese you can hardly tell the cracker is even there.
The cracker becomes more of a texture ingredient rather than a taste good ingredient.
I have been know to buy cream cheese and not share a smidgen with anyone.
I hide it in the back of the fridge behind the broccoli and sneak it out while the kids are playing outside or after bed time.
Even then, it usually does not last more than 3 days, sometimes less. Much less.
If I could get a way with it, I'd just skip the whole finding something to put it on and just bring the entire brick to my office and pig out while I blog for hours, totally ignoring my children.
It's my drug of choice.
One of these days I'm going to wake up weighing 500 pounds.
I know you just love it when I speak to inanimate objects like they can actually hear me, so here I go again. Just for you.

Dear Cream Cheese, It was so good to see you again, but we have to stop meeting like this. I'm sorry to end it this way, but I just can't have you in my life right now. You'll always be in my heart and I'll never forget Liberty.
Love, Me
P.S. It's not you, it's me :(

Poker Face

2010-06-17T18:22:00.003-06:00

Dubs graduated from Joy School a few weeks ago.
It was quite possibly, the funniest graduation I have been to in my entire life.

Dubs does not like to be the center of attention.
He will not give talks or prayers in primary. He cries in the hall when it's his turn until someone has pity on him and lets him off the hook.

As you can imagine, he was a little less than willing to get up in front of all the people and sing the song his classmates had been practicing for weeks.
He sat in his chair trying his hardest to be invisible.
"La,la,la,la,la, I can't hear you!"
When it was his turn to share his talent he slide down deeper in his chair and would not uncurl or even look at me.
We moved on without hearing his rendition of I am a Child of God.
Then I got to speak.
The highlight of the entire event, if I do say so myself.
I'm sure everyone was thrilled!
I took a few minutes to share some of the fun activities we had done during the course of the year.
I did not know at the time that Mr Bird had possession of the camera.
He took a few shots of me during the magnificent, life changing speech.

I decided I look like a complete idiot while I'm talking.
Just call me Fish Lips.
Why has no one ever told me this before?
I must be much quieter from now on.

I thought I looked really cute that day, but as it turns out... not so much.
I think I need to wear my hair down more often.

And apparently I'm quite funny.
At least I seem to think so.

Why can I not decide what to do with my hands?
Ah, the age old question.
They are not in the same position in any two photos yet.

It seems I just flapped them around the entire time.
Watch out, I could take off at any minute.
Oh man, have I got a problem...

Daddy Daughter Dance

2010-06-10T21:24:00.002-06:00

Mr Bird and Doodle had their very first Daddy Daughter Dance with Activity Days.
They wore fancy clothes and danced the night away in the cultural hall at the church.

Doodle has been looking forward to this day for weeks.
She even showered this morning without the usual fits of protest.
She had planned what she would wear and had it sitting out on her bed all day long, just waiting for 6:00 to come.

She does not know how lucky she is to have such a wonderful dad.
When I was her age I was borrowing other people's dads for the daddy daughter days.
It was either our home teacher or my best friend's dad.
It does my heart good to see the two of them having so much fun together.
When they got home I asked Doodle how it was.
She looked up and tilted her head to one side and said with a sigh,
"Perfect!"
She would hardly let her daddy go when it was bed time.
I had to tickle her to get her Velcro arms to release from around his neck.
As she headed up the stairs she proclaimed,
"This has been the best night of my life!"

What a dashing couple.
Watch out girl, he's still mine!

What Do You Do in the Summer Time

2010-06-06T20:45:00.006-06:00

My Willow Tree.
I love my willow tree.
There is a wooden seated tree swing on the lower limb on the other side.
I like to wear flowy skirts and swing on that swing bare foot in the Summer time, with the cool grass under my toes.
Corney, I know.
It just reminds me how perfect my life is, when I'm feeling like it isn't.
You know, those days when I am short tempered and in a hurry and the kids are complaining and arguing.
Those days when I would rather curl up all alone and read a good book rather than wipe poopy bums and undo massive tangles that the tangle fairies have left in the ever so fine blond hair of my Doodle.
The days when I have a million things pressing on me and Mr Bird and I are both going a million miles an hour in the opposite direction.
And the days when everything I do gets undone by the 2 year old in 1/100 of the time it took me to get it done in the first place.
The days when it all just seems too much.
On those days my 4 children feel like 100 and it gets really hard to breath.
Just when I feel like I've bitten off more than I can chew and I want to throw in the towel, I see my tree and it calls to me.
Somehow, looking up at the huge canopy of leaves with the sunshine peering through and twinkling on my skin, with my face lifted to the sky, everything feels all better.
I am ready to face the day and the children with new resolve.
I am ready to make a fabulous dinner and laugh and learn with my children again.
It is my escape.
If only for a few minutes, this divine solitude recharges my battery and brings me back to my beautiful life.
And what a beautiful life it is!

I Love America

2010-06-02T20:35:00.005-06:00

Summer Vacation...
When I was a kid I looked forward to Summer vacation all year long.
The first day of school was always torture for me.
I would get so nervous about a week before school actually started that I could hardly eat a thing.
When Doodle was 4 years old and some of her 5 year old friends were starting Kindergarten that feeling was already forming in the pit of my stomach.
Whenever I thought of that big yellow school bus driving away with her in it I just felt sick.
I could not do it.
It has been the best decision have ever made.
It has been, and will continue to be, one of the hardest things I've ever done.
We've had days of frustration and tears and nothing but squabbles with siblings.
Yet, we've had the happiest, most joy filled days as well.
We have laughed our heads off and made yummy desserts in the middle of the day just because we felt like it.
I would not trade this time I've had with my kids for anything in the world, frustrations and all.
All of the local schools are ending for the summer.
The cousins will be home to play with.
Church friends can have play days at 10am.
People ask me all the time if we take the summer "off" from home school.
Honestly, no we don't.
We will continue to follow our routine that brings our lives normalcy.
I'll continue to get up at 6am to work out in the stillness of the morning hour.
Mr Bird will continue to leave for work at 6:45 and we'll continue to wake the children for prayers with daddy at 6:30.
And since everyone will be up anyway, we may as well get the rest of it done.
We have an exciting Summer planned.
We will continue to read and learn and grow.
We will also play hard along the way.
Here are a few of the books on our Summer reading list.

The Declaration of Independence
The Constitution of the United States of America
The Bill of Rights
The Landing of the Pilgrims by James Henry Doughtry
Childhood of Famous Americans (such as George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, etc. I plan to read as many as I can get my hands on out loud to the kids)
Landmark Books (another chapter book series on great Americans)
The Bullet Proof George Washington by David Barton
Stories of the Pilgrims by Margaret B. Pumphrey
The Making of America by Cleon Skousen

Are you noticing a theme?
I would also like to read The Real Thomas Jefferson and The Real George Washington by Andrew M. Allison , not to mention The Federalist Papers, but those books are huge.
Baby steps.
Maybe by the time my kids are old enough to read them, I'll be ready, too.
I am also reading Shakespeare to get ready for the Shakespeare festival in Southern Utah this summer.
I have just finished Much Ado About Nothing and will start Macbeth tomorrow.
After that comes The Merchant of Venice.

As our family novel I just finished A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett and Just started Little Britches by Ralph Moody. We read the first 2 chapters tonight.
Doodle is in love with the horses already. She took the book to bed with her, I'm sure she's read a few more chapters by now, too.
So much reading, so little time. Good thing the days are getting longer and longer!
I love reading in the dusk.
Happy Summer everyone! What's on your summer book list?

A Recipe and a Rant

2010-05-31T20:02:00.004-06:00

Have you ever looked at the ingredient list for most packaged tortillas?
If not, stop everything and go open your refrigerator and pull out your tortillas and look.
It is stunning, and shocking.
The list is huge with teeny tiny print.
There must be 25 ingredients (or more), most of which I cannot pronounce, let alone know what they are.
This is for sure, they can not be good for you.
They are chuck full of preservatives.
One of my friends on facebook posted that she pulled a tortilla out of the refrigerator that was over a month past its expiration date and ate it.
She said it tasted fine.
That is not a good thing.
Real food should rot if not eaten within the specified shelf life.
How scary that it can still taste good after so long.
What artificial thing do they have to put in them to make them do that?
What's worse is thinking about what that artificial thing is doing to our insides.
I don't even want to think about it.
Actually, I do think about it, a lot.
Good news!
I've come up with a solution.
Home made tortillas!
They have just 4 simple ingredients.
They are fresh, they are soft, they are warm and chewy.
Try them once and you'll never go back, ever!

Easy Tortillas

Ingredients:
1 C Water
1 t Salt
1/4 C olive oil
3 C whole wheat or whole spelt flour

Directions:
Place all ingredients in mixer and knead on medium for 3-4 minutes or until dough is soft and elastic. Let dough rest for 30-45 minutes. Divide dough into 12 equal portions. Roll out on floured surface until really thin, rotating often to loosen from work area and to make them round. Preheat skillet to medium high and cook for about 30-45 seconds on each side, or until bubbles form and become browned. Place hot tortillas on a plate and cover with a clean towel to keep soft and warm until ready to serve.

Helpful Hints:

The dough should be about the consistency of a firm bread dough. If it's sticky, add more flour before the kneading process begins. If it seems too dry, add a bit more water.
If you are using spelt flour you will need to add 1/2-1 cup more flour. Check the dough for stickiness before kneading.
You will need to find the "sweet spot" on your stove. Mine is 2 notched down from high. If the burner is too hot, they will burn. If it's not hot enough they will take too long and become dry and brittle. We are going for soft and chewy.
Roll the tortillas as you go. Don't roll them all out at once and then cook them. Ask me how I know. I place one in the pan and roll the next while it's cooking. You have to work fast and ignore the rest of the house during this process. If they children need help, ignore them. Hate to say it, but if you turn for 1 second you'll burn the one in the pan. Then the next one will not be ready to go into the pan in time and the pan will get too hot and it will take 4 more tortillas to get it just right again. Trust me, just ignore the children! They'll be fine for 15 minutes!
Don't leave out the oil or they make crunchy cracker things, unless you want crunchy cracker things!
I have not found out how to make mine perfectly round. Some people are perfectionists like that, but I'm not. And you know what? My kids eat them anyway and love them!
Store left overs (if you have any) in a plastic air tight baggie in the refrigerator for up to 1 week. After that point they go bad and mold. They are real food, so eat them quickly! Your body will thank you.

This recipe rules! We use them for burritos, soft tacos, enchiladas, fajitas, green chili, veggie wraps, and pretty much anything you can find to stuff in a tortilla.
My kids even devour them plain, they won't do that with packaged tortillas!
As an added bonus, these babies are super cheap to make. We're talking less than 50 cents for the whole batch. Compare that to grocery store prices!
Try them, I promise you'll love them!

Prayer of the Children

2010-05-22T08:53:00.007-06:00

When I was a missionary in Montreal I had many experiences that showed My Heavenly Father’s love for me and for His children. The last area I served in was one of a handful of areas in our mission appropriately deemed “BMW areas”. The missionaries considered the BMW areas to have the best, most exclusive modes of transportation in the entire mission. There were only a few such coveted areas on the island of Montreal, thus every missionary in the Canada Montreal Mission wanted to serve in one of the BMW areas. A BMW area meant that the missionary would have plenty of exercise and would be able to avoid the oh so common “Canadian Tire”, an extra layer around the missionary’s middle which testified of all the delectable dinner appointments we received from the wonderful members in Canada. Missionaries in BMW areas were allowed the privilege of using the very advanced and highly effective public transit system. Every where we went, we either used the Buses, the Metro, or we Walked, hence BMW. This ensured the missionaries were on their feet and walking or running to appointments many times a day and could more effectively burn off those unwanted calories. Imagine my thrill as I found out my last area would lend me great opportunities to leave my well earned Canadian Tire in Canada, where it belonged. It afforded me the opportunity to go home and look somewhat as lean as I had when I had left home 18 months previously. I was thrilled.

In addition to the physical aspect of the BMW areas, being on the busses and Metro gave the missionaries countless opportunities to open our mouths. We were able to speak to many different people and share our testimonies of the gospel of Jesus Christ and of The Book of Mormon as Another Testament of Jesus Christ. One such incident still stands out in my mind. My companion and I were on a crowded city bus one late evening on our way back to our apartment after a busy day of proselyting. A man noticed our name tags and asked us about them. We proceeded to explain that we were missionaries of the Lord Jesus Christ and that we had a message about His gospel. He immediately noticed our accents and asked us where we were from. We told him and then he inquired about our salary. We told him there was no salary and that we in fact pay our own way as missionaries. The man looked aghast, “Why would you ever leave your jobs and lives for so long without pay? You are young; surly you should be in college! Why on earth would you leave for something like this?”

My companion and I took the opportunity to share with him our love for the Savior and our testimonies that His church had been restored on the earth once more. The man was skeptical at best. He kept questioning why we would do such a crazy thing. We kept bearing testimony, yet he still could not understand. As we left the bus he looked at us very sarcastically and said, “Good luck with that.” We could tell he thought us very foolish.

I have never seen that man since, and I will very likely go the rest of my life without ever crossing his path again.

Yet, the testimony bore on the bus that cold Canadian winter evening proved to be very significant. A few days later my companion and I received a request for a copy of the Book of Mormon. At that time the church was televising commercials about the Book of Mormon. People could call the number on the screen and receive a free copy of the book. They had the option to let representatives of the church (missionaries) deliver the book as well as share a message about the gospel.

The next afternoon, during a slow part of our day, we showed up at the address printed on the Book of Mormon request form. As the door opened we were met by the friendly eyes of a young man from South Africa, named Edgar. He looked at us in disbelief as he invited us into his home.

We told Edgar who we were and explained that we wanted to give him the free Book of Mormon that he had ordered. He simply said, “I know who you are.”

A glance passed between my companion and I, we were both baffled. “Have we met before?” I asked.

“No, but I have seen you missionaries on the bus.”

“Oh, ya, we are always on the bus. There are many missionaries on the buses here in Montreal, I’m sure you have seen some missionaries around town.”

“No”, Edgar replied, “I have seen you.” He went on the say that he had been sitting on the bus the night my companion and I were telling the stranger of our testimonies and our desires to serve the Lord. He said he listened to our whole conversation with the man; he even passed his stop in order hear the rest of our conversation. His heart had been touched by the power in our words. As he made it to his apartment that evening he turned on the television and saw a commercial for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He recognized the name of the church as the same he had heard on the bus that very night. He was curious and wanted to know more. He ordered a copy of the Book of Mormon in order to find out why we thought a simple book could possibly be worth leaving our homes and families and lives to teach the world about. When he found us on his door step he was shocked and gladdened to see us, the very girls on the bus, standing there and ready to share our message with him.

We made a very good friend that day in Montreal. Edgar was so eager to accept the gospel. Edgar was from South Africa, he had just made it to Canada a few short weeks prior to our meeting. He had escaped South Africa to Canada for peace and safety from the horrible genocides and civil wars that were tearing his country apart. His heart was heavy with the loss of many family members to that awful war. He was working hard to bring the rest of his surviving family members to the safety of Canada. His soul was heavy and he wanted so badly for his family to enjoy the safety and peace he now enjoyed. In Canada Edgar found the peace he had been searching for, not only the peace from a nation at war, but peace to his soul as well.

Not long after we starting meeting with Edgar, he started to attend church services with us. After Edgar had been coming to church for a few weeks he very timidly asked if he could invite a friend to attend with him. Of course we were thrilled. The following Sunday we met Edgar’s friend, Lawrence. Edgar and Lawrence had been friends in South Africa and usually spent Sunday afternoons visiting with each other. Lawrence had been confused the past few weeks as to why his good friend suddenly ended their visits. Edgar explained that he had been attending church. Lawrence was immediately offended that Edgar had not told him about this church sooner.

Edgar and Lawrence were soon baptized. Whenever I think of Edgar and Lawrence the lyrics of a song written by Curt Bestor touch my heart.

Prayer of the Children

Can you hear the prayer of the children?
On bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry
Turning heavenward toward the light

Crying Jesus, help me
To see the morning light-of one more day
But if I should die before I wake,
I pray my soul to take

Can you feel the hearts of the children?
Aching for home, for something of their very own
Reaching hands, with nothing to hold on to,
But hope for a better day, a better day

Crying Jesus, help me
To feel the love again in my own land
But if unknown roads lead away from home,
Give me loving arms, away from harm

Can you hear the voice of the children?
Softly pleading for silence in a shattered world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,
Blood of the innocent on their hands

Crying Jesus, help me
To feel the sun again upon my face,
For when darkness clears I know you're near,
Bringing peace again

Dali cujete sve djecje molitive?
(Croatian translation:
'Can you hear all the children's prayers?')
Can you hear the prayer of the children?

The Lord did if fact hear the payers of his child Edgar. He literally encircled His son in His everlasting arms of love and mercy. He saved his life and he calmed his soul. I felt the love that the Lord had for his son, Edgar. Every time we went to teach him, I thought about all the horrible things Edgar had witnessed in his country. It broke my heart. I wished with all my might that I could take away the pain that those experiences caused my dear, dear friend. One day it occurred to me that Christ feels the very same way about all of us. When He sees us in pain, either caused by our own wrong choices or by the choices of others, He wants so much to take our pain away. In fact he provided a way for us to cast our pain on Him. That’s what the atonement is all about. He loves Edgar and through the atonement of Jesus Christ Edgar felt the love of his Savior and was again brought to a place of peace.

My Right Arm

2010-05-20T08:17:00.005-06:00

My kids have the best grandpa in the whole world.
On Monday Doodle called him, begging him to take her on a horse ride.
He said, "No way! I don't like horse rides! I don't think I can manage taking a little girl on a ride!"
Not really.
Really he said, "Can you be here in 10 minutes?"
We decided on Wednesday instead.
It turned out to be a perfect day.
The sun was bright and there was just the hint of the perfect breeze.
Our favorite aunt Lisa and Justin showed up with their horses, to boot!
Kathy and I fished with the little boys while the others rode.
Then the horses found us near the lake.
Suddenly all the little boys wanted a ride, too.
We put the boys double decker on the horses and away they rode.
The strangest feeling came over me as I saw all of my children riding away from me.
Suddenly my hands were empty and I felt odd.
Like those horses were riding away with my right arm, leaving the rest of me behind.
As mothers I wonder if we really comprehend the bond we have with our children.
Their little lives are so intricately intertwined with our own.
Sometimes it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.
Everything we do is for them and with them.
We bake, read, nurture, hug, listen, kiss, hold, scold, cry, laugh, dance, fall, run together every day.
My children are, hands down, my biggest frustration in life. But they are also, hands down, my greatest joy.
And I would not trade one second of it for anything in the world!

Ode To Littleness

2010-05-12T21:10:00.004-06:00

Is it just me or do littleness and cuteness go hand in hand?
My Baby that's-not-really-a-baby-anymore-cuz-he-poops-and-pees-in-the-potty is so cute, I just can't stand it!
What's really funny is that he does not even know he's being cute.
He thinks he's being so serious all the time, like a tiny man person.
Only I just laugh because he's so little and serious.
He is just like his dad only much, much smaller.

I also love my little trees.
I got 4 more fruit trees for my mini orchard for my mother's day gift.
We have 10 fruit trees now!
Only 8 more to go and I will be satisfied.
I love them beyond words.
I love all of their potential wrapped up in tiny branches and miniature leaves.
I love to dream about the endless summers in the warm sunshine eating tree ripened apples and pears and peaches with sticky juice running down our arms.
I love to dream about my pantry and freezer filled with their goodness, enough for the whole year plus more to share.
I can already hear the dehydrator humming me to sleep with the scent of fresh peach heavy in the air.

I just know my kids are going to love me during harvest and preserving time.
Can't you just taste and smell the jams and jellies and purees already?
I love to think that someday my grandchildren will eat from these very trees.
I can never leave our house now.
These trees have cemented me here forever.
They may as well bury me under one of them when I die, because I will not leave them.
I love them almost as much as my babies.
Almost, but not quite.

And just look at this cuteness.
There's something about watching something grow that I absolutely adore.
These tomatoes and peppers were just seeds when I got my hands on them.
I have never started my own tomatoes or peppers from seed before.
It was such a fun process.
Seeing them peek through the soil for the first time was truly magical.
I was so excited I literally jumped for joy.
Then, wondering if the little sprouts were strong enough to keep going, I watched them every day.
I worried about if they were getting enough water or too much.
I wondered if the window was too drafty, if they had enough sunlight, if little fingers would try to dissect them.
Now I dream about their ripe fruit and the fresh salsa and tomato sandwiches and countless other ways to eat them fresh off the vine.
I took these photos a few weeks ago and now they are simply huge.
They are past ready to plant outside.
If mother nature would stop trying to freeze us out they might have a shot.

Just look at Mr Bird and his buff arms tearing apart that bucket!
When he saw this photo he was quite impressed with his own muscular arms.
He had to flex right then and there to see if that's how they really look.
I assured him they do and that those arms are so very, very hot!
Thank you Mr Bird, for the wonderful gift.

May 10, 1869

2010-05-10T20:58:00.010-06:00

According to Mr Bird May 10, 1869 was the best day in the history of the United States.
It was the day the the Golden spike was driven to complete the first transcontinental railroad connecting the Union Pacific Railroad and the Central Pacific Railroad.
For the first time in the history of our young nation there was one continuous rail road connecting the wild west to the rest of the county.
The two rail road companies and the rest of the country had a huge celebration and ceremony for the occasion.
For the last 59 years a cast of citizens and volunteers have recreated that ceremony.
They meet at Promontory Summit, the very place the golden spike was driven 141 years ago, and repeat word for word the things that were expressed more than a life time ago.
Lucky for Mr Bird, Promontory Summit is only about an hour from our home.
Every year since Mr Bird was a tiny kid he has gone to the ceremony.
Now he brings his own family, year after year.
It is the first day he requests off from work every January.

May 10, 2004 Promontory Summit

Although I have come to the ceremony year after year, it always has special meaning to me.
In 1869, just as the golden spike was getting ready to be driven, the rest of the country waited with baited breath for word that it was complete.
Some cities wired the telegraph to the local fire department alarm so that as soon as the signal was emitted the whole town would know and could join in the celebration.
Other towns had huge crowds of people around the telegraph waiting for the pre-assigned signal: D.O.N.E. done!

"Every telegraph in the nation was waiting with baited breath for that one word.
Both the spike and the maul are wired to the transcontinental telegraph wire so that the entire nation can hear the blows as the spike is driven. Now ladies and gentlemen, the time has arrived. As Mr. Shilling, the telegrapher, gives the signal over the wire, that the spike is driven, bells and whistles will sound across the nation."

Before the spike was driven a prayer was offered.
This is the telegraph message sent to the entire country just moments before the spike was driven:

"Bulletin! Almost ready. Hats off! Prayer is being offered."

For a moment the entire nation bowed their heads in prayer, together.
Think of the power of that prayer.
Has our nation before or since been so united and humble and prayerful.
That was an amazing moment, I can still feel the power of an entire continent united in prayer to their God.
How I long for our great nation to be as great as it was in that moment.
The rail road was more than just a highway into the west.
The work of building the railroad united a wounded country which had been badly broken and nearly divided by civil war.
Men form the North as well as the South untied their effort and worked side by side in an effort to rebuild our nation.
Men from all over the world came to help in hopes of bringing the knowledge they'd acquire to their homes across the seas and to replicate our system in their own lands.
The eyes of the whole world were upon The united States of America and this great feat of courage and strength.
Many men gave their lives in the completion of this revolutionary task.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you. We are gathered here to join the ends of the earth, to join the raw riches of the American West with the finished products of the industrial East. We also meet with mixed feelings; with joy that the work of thousands of men has joined the railroad, and with sorrow we remember the hundreds of men who gave their lives in building the railroad."

This is the heritage I want to pass on to my children.
I want them to see the examples of hard work with the blood and sweat and tears these men gave to build a nation.
I want them to see the value of coming together to build something bigger than themselves.
I want them to learn about these great men and the marvelous things they accomplished with not much more than their bare hands and wagons pulled by horses.
I want them to celebrate their personal victories, big or small.
I want them to love our nation and to stand tall in it, under their God, always giving thanks to Him.

P.S. Click here to read the reenactment in its entirety. It is truly inspirational.

The Impossible Dream

2010-05-09T21:19:00.004-06:00

Another of my dreams is about to come true.
Remember this post about how I want to be in a parade?
Well, it turns out that this just might be my lucky year!
My brother-in-law, Brad Galvez (The Great) is the Republican nominee for The Utah House of Representatives on the November 2010 ballot.
During a dinner with the family he mentioned that as part of his campaign he planned to ride in the local parades this summer.
I about fell out of my chair.
In fact I think I jumped a foot in the air and lost control a little (or a lot) and shrieked something about the fact that I wanted to be in his float (or car or riding a horse).
Everyone looked at me like I was crazy, that's me the family crazy person.
It's OK, cuz every family has one, I'm fine with it being me.
Then I went on and on about how much I've wanted to ride in a parade.
I started to get so excited and could already smell the horse poo in the air!
Then it happened!
Brad, The Great appointed me as the head of the parade committee chair board!
I'm pretty sure he made that up just to make me feel good, let's not fool ourselves, it totally worked!
Now my mind will not stop thinking about it.
I have to come up with ideas now.
Should we do a float with sparkly banners and paper mache mountains?
Or should we go simple and commission some cool antique cars?
Then there's the equestrian route.
The Galvez's are huge horse lovers.
We could decorate the horses and carry banners and throw candy to the crowds?
It's so hard to decide.
Maybe we could do all the above, our family is big enough!
What would you do?

The World's Greatest Mom

2010-05-06T07:38:00.003-06:00

Yup, you got it, that's me, the world's greatest mom.
At least according to Doodle.
It seems as if some days I am determined to prove to myself and everyone else how horrible of a mother I really am.
Sometimes I can be "not so nice."
Sometimes I say and do things I don't really mean.
Sometimes I am too harsh with the kids.
I expect a lot from my children and I feel like a big fat meanie...most of the time.
Yet there are moments of greatness.
Yesterday was one of those days.
By dinner time I felt I was at my rope's end.
Ethan had peed on the carpet while I had locked myself in the bathroom for a nice hot, long shower (I should have known better).
Someone plugged the toilet AGAIN, for about the 100th time this month.
It felt like I spent the day stopping arguments and ranting at the kids to clean up mess after mess after mess.
How can our house get so messy so fast? We don't have many toys.
They find whatever they can to make a mess with.
Yesterday it was a box of Tissues which they snuck upstairs. They ripped 3/4 of the box out and they were everywhere.
They made horse blankets with them, wrote notes on them, made flags and door signs and just generality ripped them to tiny shreds and spread them all over the two bedrooms.
By the time dinner was over I felt defeated and tired.
TIRED!
We quickly got dinner cleaned up and I wanted to just have no more messes in the house so I grabbed a handful of books and our novel and I started reading.
I read out loud, to the kids.
I read for over an hour and a half, all the way to bed time.
As soon as Doodle saw my pile of books and the huge green blanket and me snuggled up on the couch, her face sparkled and she ran over and gave me the biggest hug ever and said, "You're the best mom in the whole world!"
It's as simple as that.
All the shortcomings of my day were wiped clean, in her mind at least, with a pile of good books and a blanket.

My Life in Bullet Points

2010-05-03T19:44:00.004-06:00

Beano 5 weeks old

I am feeling very random tonight
Thus, bullet points seem appropriate
My beautiful niece, Bethy, had her first baby yesterday
It was a huge mistake to go see her at the hospital
My ovaries will not be quiet now
It was so hard for me to leave the hospital without my very own baby
Mr Bird just laughs at me and thinks I'm crazy
Never in my life have I ever had the urge to nurse someone else's baby, but yesterday, all I wanted to do was nurse that perfect little being
But that would be totally weird and gross, so I didn't
Plus I don't have any more milk, Baby Cakes drank me dry
That was probably TMI
I think I just lost all my male readers, but I'm good with that. Sorry guys!
I know plenty of people who have more than 4 kids and they have not lost it yet
We ate peanut butter and honey covered crackers with melted chocolate on them for our FHE treat tonight
I think I may need one more
All of the baby stuff, like the crib and high chair and car seat, have been gone for a long time, we'd have to buy all new stuff
I hate spending money, but I think I could manage
I got to change my great nephew's very first poopy diaper
And I still want another
Mr Bird says if I agree to name the next one Doc he'll go for it
I said OK and he totally back peddled
I say, a deal's a deal!
Does baby hunger ever go away? What about people who have 12 kids? Do they still get baby hungry?
Hmmm, I wonder...

To Heal the Broken Hearted

2010-05-01T11:21:00.006-06:00

When we think of our Savior what comes to mind first?
His triumph over sin, making it possible for all who sin to repent and be forgiven?
Do you think of the sacrifice He made when he died for us, was resurrected, therefor making eternal life possible for all mankind?
Do you think of the sick He healed, the sermons He gave, the miracles He performed?
Do you think of the many stories in the Bible of forgiveness he gave because of the faith of those who sought Him?
When I think of my Savior another image comes to mind.
I saw Him standing there.
In his eyes were boundless love and compassion.
In a dark room marked "The Neglected and Fatherless" I saw myself, as if I were looking into the past.
It hurt to see my own image in such an ugly place.
Hurt and anger and bitterness filled my soul to the brim.
Then I looked up, just a few small inches.
The realization that I was looking at my reflection in a mirror took my breath for just a moment.
Physically, I was not in that room, but somehow that place was a part of my soul.
My eyes wondered a few inches higher still.
My eyes met His eyes.
His hands were holding the mirror.
He was holding me, with His very hands.
His eyes pierced my very soul.
In an instant, love and warmth replaced the years of anger and hurt and bitterness.
Not a word was spoken, His eyes said it all.
In that moment He took the heart break from me.
My heart, which had been so heavy and so full, was healed.
I felt light and happy, even joyful.
I felt His love, and it made everything better.
He found me with a heart bruised and broken and torn in pieces.
With his love He took my heart and gave it back to me in perfect condition, whole and happy and new.
To my surprise, when I looked back down at the mirror in His hands, my image was gone.
I was no longer in that place.
He took me by the hand and let me out, into a life of my own.
A life full of love and laughter and music.
A life with the happiest heart I could ever imagine.
A life so full that I feel tears of joy and gratitude could burst at any moment.
A life I could never have imagined on my own.
A life bigger than myself.
A life I never felt I deserved.
Yet here I am, years later, still filled with His love and compassion.
Ashamed that it has taken me so long to tell the story of His love for me.
When Christ publicly announced His minesrty He did not announce that we would suffer for the sins of the world, although He would.
He did not announce that He would die on the cross for mankind and ultimately overcome death, although He would.

"When Jesus arrived in Nazareth, he entered the synagogue and read a prophecy about the coming Messiah which the Old Testament Prophet Isaiah had written seven hundred years earlier. Jesus announced that this prophecy was about himself." ~New Testament Seminary Student Manuel

This is the scripture he read in the synagogue, "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised."~Luke 4:18

He goes on to say, "And he closed the book, and he gave it again to the minister, and sat down. And the eyes of all them that were in the synagogue were fastened on him. And he began to say unto them, This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears." ~Luke 4:20-21

For the first time in his mortal life He announced publicly that He was the Messiah, of whom the prophets had testified for generations would come.
And what did he say he came to do?

The first thing he says is that He was sent to heal the brokenhearted.
Heartbreaks happen every day and to every person.
No one is immune.
Everyday a family is broken by divorce, leaving parents and children broken.
Everyday unmet expectations are shattered, leaving broken dreams and hearts.
Everyday people lose loved ones to death, both old and young, leaving hearts filled with grief and despair.
Everyone has their own story of heartbreak, I am not the only one.
If there's one thing I've learned in this life through all my friendships and deep connections with people, it's this: We've all suffered heartbreaks, big and small.
The great news?
We need not suffer alone.
He has said numberless times throughout the ages in the scriptures and through his prophets, "Come unto me!"
He is waiting for us to come to Him.
He wants us to be happy beyond measure.
And His arms are outstretched still.

The Truth

2010-04-21T19:54:00.005-06:00

Mr Hanlon.
My high school senior English teacher.
Hands down, the best English teacher on the planet.
He did not just teach us how to dot our i's and cross our t's and where to properly place our commas.
He inspired me to write.
He was one of the greats, and he in turn inspired greatness from me.
He shared with his class full of pimply teenagers his writing, his thoughts and his passions.
His writing down right touched me.
He was so eloquent and truthful with his words.
I can honestly say I don't remember the topics of his writing, but I do remember how I felt as he read them aloud to his class.
I felt like I wanted to be better.
I wanted to show him how great I could be.
Not because he demanded it, but because he saw a glimpse of that greatness in me and I believed him when he told me so, through his writings.
His class room was, let's say for sake of time, a little less than tidy.
If a student turned in a paper that he considered a great work he asked if he could keep a copy for his own personal use.
His lecture hall was filled with stacks upon stacks of papers from former students.
They were like veritable mountains, there must have been thousands of them.
Even those stacks of papers were inspiring.
I wanted so badly to write a paper that would be worthy of his stacks, to become a part of the legend and the greatness.
Then, it happened.
He handed back our latest essays and there were no red markings in the body of my paper.
I turned to the back page to see, scrawled in his infamous red ink, the words: Excellent, you're best work! May I please have a copy?
My heart nearly stopped, I had done it!
Here's where the story gets interesting.
The assignment for the essay was to go to a public place and watch someone.
Could be anywhere and anyone, or even a group of people.
Then we were to write about what we had observed in those people and places.
I never went anywhere after school.
I did not do his assignment as he told us to.
I have a million reasons why I never actually went and observed as he had asked.
My mom never left the couch, so asking her to take me somewhere, no matter the cause, seemed like a foreign thought to me.
I didn't even consider it.
I walked 3 miles home from school every day after eating little breakfast and no lunch because I was too proud to stand in the "free lunch" line.
By the time I got home I was tired, beyond tired.
I had just enough energy to make some sort of dinner and homework, then I fell into a comma of T.V. and sleep.
The thought of going somewhere extra was too much.
Instead I made up a pretend scenario in my mind.
I wrote about a fictitious trip to Toys "R" Us and seeing a little girl in the Barbie Doll isle.
I described the Pepto Bismol pink and the look of desire in the girls' eyes.
In my mind the girl was thin with stringy hair and worn and dirty clothes, obviously not very well off.
Her eyes were a little too large for her face and she held the doll for a really long time, staring at the beautiful creature inside the box.
My story ended with the girl's mother briskly coming for the girl and yanking her from the moment of bliss as, just for a moment, she held a little piece of childhood.
I described how the mother, with her tired, worn face, had not even noticed the child like look of longing in her daughter's eyes.
I wondered, in my paper, if the little girl had even ever had a Barbie, or any doll for that matter.
I don't remember how I ended the paper, but it must have been fabulous.
I do remember that the best thing I had ever written was a lie.
I wondered how that could be.
This week I realized why it was that the best thing I had ever written could have been this fake story I had made up.
I never did tell Mr. Hanlon that I cheated on his assignment.
The truth is, I may not have done the assignment just as Mr.Hanlon asked, but that story was true.
That story was about myself.
It has taken me 15 years to realize that.
There was never a moment in my childhood when I stood in Toys "R" Us staring at a Barbie Doll when my mother yanked me away.
But the feelings of that little girl were my feelings.
The description of wanting a childhood so badly, but not even being noticed, were my feelings.
Even the physical descriptions were spot on.
That is why, even 15 years later, my heart breaks just a little bit when I think of that poor, thin girl standing all alone in the Barbie Doll isle.

Priceless

2010-04-21T08:29:00.003-06:00

Dear Doodle,
You are eight! I really can't see how that's possible when it feels like you were just born last week. What an amazing journey we've been on together. You have taught me ever so much more than I could dream of teaching you. I want to be better because of you. You really do bring out the best in me. You are always so eager to do what is right, I want to be just like you when I grow up. You make me realize, if only in some small way, how Heavenly Father loves each one of us, His children. The joy I find when reading to you, or you reading to me, or catching you being kind to your brothers when you don't even know I'm watching is priceless. I would not trade it for anything in all the world. I love being your mom, even when it's hard and I seem grumpy, I still love you and would do anything I possibly could to make this life better for you. Your baptism day was so beautiful. You looked just like an angel. You have such a sweet spirit, I just can't help but be so full of joy when I think about that day. You are such a great example to everyone around you. I love you, girl! Happy Birthday!
Love, Mom

A Birthday and A Blunder

2010-04-19T20:03:00.004-06:00

Dear Dubs,
Happy Birthday, my boy. I can't even express in words how much I love you. I think you are hands down one of the best boys on the planet. I wish I knew how I got lucky enough to be your mom. You have always been my biggest snuggler. All I have to do is look you in the eye and you melt into a gigantic hug. It does this mother's heart good. I love how much you love your brothers and sister. I think it's the cutest thing in the world when you give Baby those sweet kisses and he kisses you back, right on the smacker! It seems like only yesterday when you were tiny and would sit with me for hours and be totally content. Now you are so grown up and learning new things every day. It gives me so much joy to see the little person you are becoming. I love you, little man. Happy Birthday!
Love, Mom

There's nothing quite like a little boy's first bike, complete with training wheels and all.
In the 3 weeks since his birthday, Dubs has already worn a whole right through the entire rear tire.
He would get going as fast as he could then skid to a stop, over and over and over again.
You should have seen our driveway, it was totally scared with marks from his tire.
He was so heartbroken when it popped.
We went and got a new tire a few days later.
The day after we got it all put back together we went for a ride on a local parkway that runs all through the Ogden valley along the Weber River.
One section of the trail goes down hill and curves at the same time.
As we approached this section and Dubs started his descent, he lost control at one of the turns and fell off the trail and down the hill among rocks and sticks and dirt.
There were 2 other bikers right behind him.
The first one stopped when she saw the crash to help.
The second tripped over the first, entangling the 2 bikes and sending the second rider rolling over the first.
This all happened in a matter of seconds.
It was like watching a cartoon.
We got Dubs and his bike back on track, he was OK except a teeny weeny scrape on his knee.
The other bikes were far from OK.
They looked like a circus act and I wondered how on earth we'd ever get them apart.
Finally they were able to pull them apart, but neither bike was usable after that.
One of the tires was so badly bent, it would not spin at all.
All said and done no one was hurt and we all laughed about the irony as we parted ways.
That's what you get for trying to do something nice!
Thanks strangers, for sacrificing your bikes for my son's safety!

Hello Agian, Hello

2010-04-19T19:38:00.002-06:00

Wow, it's been too long since I've blogged.
And I know why.
It's guilt.
I promised a post about Nicholeen Peck and her fabulous parenting ideas that have been changing our lives.
But then I started reading her book and I realized that there is no possible way I could blog about all the things that have helped us.
Really, you just need to buy her book and read her blog and learn for yourself.
For me it has been priceless.
Best $20 I've ever spent.
I will say there are a few things we don't see eye to eye on and things I definitely will not be changing, but that's what's great about it. It really makes me think about our family vision and how I can, as the mom, help our family become what God has intended us to be.
So I lolly gagged and avoided my blog and the promised post for nearly a month.
In the mean time we've had 2 birthdays without letters from mom and a baptism without my recorded memories and photos.
Silly, silly me.
Not to worry, I'm letting myself off the hook.
If you want to read about Nicoleen (which I highly recommend) you'll have to do it on your own time.
For now, I have more important things to blog about.
Starting tomorrow...

Vision

2010-03-23T05:35:00.009-06:00

I need to share about another class I went to at the annual Thomas Jefferson Education Forum last week end.
The Thomas Jefferson Education (TJed) Forum is an annual home school convention with presenters from all over the United States and Canada.
I can not even tell you how much I loved the forum this year.
Love does not even describe accurately how I felt about the forum this year.
I left feeling completely full, it was a feast for my soul.
I left with new vision and inspiration for our home school.
For any of you that are thinking about home school, this is a must. Sadly, the forum is only once a year, but you can order downloads of the sessions at the TJed Marketplace if you would like to learn more (It may take a few weeks for them to get the downloads ready for purchase).
I went to a class called Teaching Self Government by Nicholeen Peck.
Nicholeen is an amazing mom to 4 children and has had many Foster children in her home throughout the years.
Her foster children came to her home with problems like ADHD, OCD, kleptomania, compulsive lying, anger control issues, etc. She said, “I taught behaviors, not medication. They would come to us on many medications and usually leave not on any medications. Many children are misdiagnosed. They just need to learn cause and effect better.”
Her class was life changing for me.
I will have to write another post about it another day since my children will be up in just a little while and this is already long as it is.
Nicholeen did a documentary for the BBC called The World’s Strictest Parents
Here is a link to the show.
"The concept is that two so-called teenagers are sent to live abroad with a strict host family for a week in an attempt to change their behavior. During the week they receive an impact letter from their birth parents with a list of issues they should try to fix."
I watched this before the forum and was amazed at how she and her husband loved and worked with these children.
These teens left their home with new perspective and hope for their lives.
At the Forum I bought Nicholeen's book, called A House United, which you can also purchase on her website.
No, I am not being paid for advertisement! I just really love the principles she teaches.
Until tomorrow, here is a quote from her book that describes perfectly what I want for my children.
"Parenting isn't about doing anything to our children. Parenting is about teaching our children to choose good and happiness for themselves, by themselves."

Nurturing Excellent Writers

2010-03-21T20:01:00.002-06:00

Mr Bird and I attended a TJed conference this weekend.
It was truly phenomenal.
I came away totally refocused and re-energized and ready to implement some amazing things in our home school that I am so excited about.
One of the classes I attended was by a man named Andrew Pudewa.
He is amazing. I wish I could remember the huge list of his accomplishments, but I can't.
I do know that he has worked in public schools, created his own private preschools and he has 7 children that he and his wife home school.
When he was in his early 20's he went to Japan and lived for 3 years and studied with Suzuki, of the Suzuki method for learning music. Andrew studied violin for 3 years from arguably the best in the world.
I was captivated by Andrew's way of speaking.
He has developed a theory about how to get children to grow up to be great writers and to use reliably correct and sophisticated English.
The fact is you can't get something out of a brain that is not in there to begin with.
The question then becomes, how do you get reliably correct and sophisticated English into our children's brains?
There is a myth that says Good Readers Will Automatically Become Good Writers.
Not so.
And here's why.
What is our definition of a' good reader'?
We all know children who devour books like water in the dessert. They read huge, thick novels in a short amount of time, usually several per week. They read 3-5 levels above their grade level with amazing comprehension.
This does not mean these great readers will be able to use reliably correct and sophisticated English.
The problem is the sheer speed.
Think about it.
What do we do when we read fast?
We skim a lot.
If there are words or concepts that we don't understand we either skip over them or assign our own, perhaps incorrect, meanings to the words or ideas.
The biggest problem is that we are not hearing the English language the way it's supposed to be heard. We don't speak every word in our mind as we see it. We don't audiate the language.
Now let's think about another aspect to this problem.
When do parents typically stop or at least slow way down on reading to their children?
When the child starts to become really proficient at reading on their own.
We figure, they got it. Now I can focus on reading to the littler ones or we pick up books we want to read ourselves.
This causes a problem.
Besides reading, what are the main sources of language our children are getting?
1. Peers
2. Media
3. Parents or other BUSY adults
4. Reading
If you think about these 4 sources, none of them provide a database of reliably correct and sophisticated English, not even if the child reads well on their own.
There are 2 things we need to do to build a huge database of reliably correct and sophisticated English in our children's brains.

Number One:Don't stop reading to them just because they can read well on their own!
When you read out loud you don't skip stuff, you read every word that is printed.
You use the proper intonations and syntax that children may not use on their own.
You can stop to define or look up words and geographical locations.
You can make connections that you may not have made on your own.
You can build comprehension, even in children that already have great comprehension.
When children start to read well on their own is the precise time they need to be read to out loud above their level in large quantities of time.
If you read to them above their level they will rise to it.
A large quantity of time is defined as 2-3 hours a day, non optional.
That's a lot of time.
It is OK for some, not all, of that time to include recorded books.
We almost always have an audio book going in the car. We download them from Librivox or borrow them from the library and put them on the ipod. We pause the book at our destination and start it every time we are traveling together.
The kids love it.
You would be amazed at how much reliably correct and sophisticated English you can add to your child's brain just by adding audio books to your life.
Add to that a great novel after dinner and scriptures before bed and they will be ahead by leaps and bounds.
Number Two: Memorization
This seems to be a lost art in our educational system.
We have moved away from memorization and started focusing more on grammar rules at such a young age.
We used to memorize poetry and verse and great speeches in huge quantities.
Now we learn nouns, verbs and adjectives before 2nd grade.
Here's why memorization is so phenomenal for ourselves as well as our children.
Memorization grows the brain. It does not matter what we memorize, the process of memorization makes connections in the brain. The more connections we have in our brain the better and faster we will be able to learn and retain any concept.
The more connections our brains have, the more RAM in our PC.
The Suzuki method works very well for memorization as well.
Suzuki method is a way to not only memorize, but retain what we have learned.
We start by memorizing just one piece.
Once we know that one, we add another.
Everyday we repeat all the pieces we have memorized, adding a new one.
As we add new pieces to our repertoire we continue to recite the first ones we learned.
Obviously by the time we learn over 10 or so pieces we will not be able to repeat all of them everyday.
At that time we should be repeating many of them everyday, we should repeat the one we are working on 3-5 times per day.
If we keep up this pattern we should be able to memorize and retain 80 pieces in about a year.
Imagine the knowledge and language data base of reliably correct and sophisticated English!
The kids and I have already gotten to work.
I can't wait to see where this leads us!

My (Not So) New Partnership

2010-03-20T20:21:00.005-06:00

By now most of you have heard the story of Dick and Rick Hoyt.
Their amazing, inspirational story of love and strength and courage is all over You Tube and emails and facebook.
Dick Hoyt is Rick's father.
When Rick was born his umbilical cord was wrapped tightly around his neck causing extreme brain damage.
The doctors said he would be a vegetable his whole life and that they should put him away in an institution and continue to live their lives, without their son.
They could not do that.
They took Rick home and determined to give him the best life they possibly could.
After a few years it was very apparent that their son was special.
He did not talk, he did not walk.
But his family could see something in his eyes.
His family treated him the same as all their other boys.
They went swimming with him, played stick hokey, where ever they went, Rick went.
When his dad would tell jokes he laughed right on key.
He understood the world around him.
When he was 10 years old a team of engineers developed a special computer that allowed Rick to communicate with others.
He went to public school and even graduated from college.
When Rick was in High school he found out about a charity race for a disabled boy and he wanted to be a part of the race.
He wanted to show his friend his love and support and that anything is possible.
He came home and told his dad he wanted to run in the race.
Dick, being the amazing father that he is, strapped Rick into a chair and ran the race, acting as arms and legs for his son.
When the race was over Rick said, "Dad, when we run I don't feel disabled."
Dick was hooked. He wanted to give his son that gift over and over.
Dick and Rick have now competed in over 950 races, including the Iron Man competition, the most grueling triathlon ever.
Dick does for Rick what he can't do on his own.

I watched this video again today at a conference and was touched again by their story.
But I saw something new in it this time.
I saw myself.
I saw my Savior.
So many times I feel like Rick.
Completely helpless.
I feel like I try and try to live my life and be the best that I can be.
But time after time I fail, miserably.
I fail to the point that I become a vegetable.
I am barely able to breath and survive on my own, let alone take care of my kids and my husband.
I feel helpless and defeated and like a failure.
As I saw Ricks face as his dad was pushing him, I saw true joy.
I have felt that joy, when I am close to my Savior I feel that.
Suddenly I wanted to be in my Saviors arms.
I ache to be near Him.
I realized that, foolishly, I have been trying to do this thing called mother hood and life in general all on my own.
I have stopped having Christ as my partner.
Somewhere between the dirty diapers and the laundry and the school and the cooking and cleaning I stopped turning to Him for help and guidance.
I started doing it all on my own.
I realized I am still carrying the loss of my dear mother-in-law all on my own, I have not given it to Him.
And you know what, it's really heavy.
It's too heavy for me to carry by myself.
I need Him.
I need You, my Rock, my Redeemer.
Will You carry me?
When I just can't do it anymore, will You carry me?
I know You will.
You have promised time after time that you will.
Your yoke is easy and your burden is light.
I need You on my team.
I am recommitted to our partnership.
Watch out world, here we come!

The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow

2010-03-15T20:06:00.005-06:00

Spring 2009

Dear Spring,
I have longed for you for the longest time. Your sunny rays are just starting to flirt with the back of a winter storm. Soon there will be more sunny days than cold dreary ones. I can't wait. Today I saw your warmth peak through, then claim the day in full glory. We had so much fun riding bikes up and down the driveway about a million times and playing in the dirt. The flowers feel your rays, too. The Day Lillys are starting to peak through the fresh moist soil. It was therapy for my soul to pull away the dead leaves and weeds to give them all the room they need to grow and blossom. And then there is the strawberry patch. The new little fuzzy strawberry leaves have appeared and with it the promise of their sweet fruit. We dug around their roots and pulled out the dead leaves, hoping all the while for a bounteous harvest. It will not be long until I will not be able to keep the children from searching for the sweet ripe berries. Our apple trees are starting to get just the slightest hint of buds. I don't want to miss a moment of your fleeting glory. I want to watch you open our apple blossoms and see the bees buzz around the tiny petals. I want to thrust my face heaven ward and feel your soft warmth on my cheek. I want to hear my children laughing in your tender care. I want to see your raindrops and dream of the vegetables you promise with each drop of rain. I can't wait to see the first leaves on our grape vines and watch as they slowly grow to be as big as the palm of my hand. It all seems so miraculous and magical and wondrous. I want to discover our parks and trails and mountains again that we have missed so much the last few months. I want the fairy dust days to return and to dream about fairy homes and dance with the fairies. I want to till and plow and plant. I want to watch the tiny florescent green leaves of a new plant emerge from our fertile ground. I want to bask in you. With my family. Then, if only for a while, everything will be perfect.
Love, Me
P.S. Thank you for a wonderful day! I love you.