You Don't See That Every Day

I think I have a sickness. On my counter there are lists. Lists of lists. There's the good old grocery list, which sometimes grows into more lists. (It's on the refrigerator.) The list for the Roth's store, the list for Safeway, the list for the Winco store, the list for Costco. Then there's the To Do lists. The All the Things in the House to Fix list, and the daily chores list. The list for what I am making for dinner. (At least this is in calendar form and not list form). The weekly list of what I need to accomplish. The reminders of whom I need to call. There's the list of schoolbooks I need to order, and the ones I have used in the past (to help me know what to order). There's the list for camping. The list of recipes I use regularly. The list of what the baby should or should not eat (-- guess it's time to toss that one!!) I'm sure there are more in there - I just can't finish THIS list without looking and making a list! And then the lists morph...

Last night was The Boy's first flag football game of the season. Yes, most football fans get going in the fall. But we have to be true to our strange selves and get excited about football in the summer. The city league plays for 6 weeks starting last night, running through the month of July. It makes for a crazy schedule, but it doesn't last too long. Anyway, the first play of the game, the ball sails into our boy's hands, and he takes off running; he thought he had been "tackled" - ie, his flag taken off, but he wasn't, so he kept on running. It was a beautiful thing to see. I tried very hard to control myself, stay in my seat and just cheer wildly, instead of jumping up and dancing on the field. Of course, in the excitement, I didn't take a picture. And the last play of the game - the one where I was running the Princess to the bathroom - the boy made a beautiful interception catch. It was such a fun night! These 3 ya-hoos decided to have their own fun. ...

It's time for swim lessons! This week the fun has begun! We started the kids in swim lessons many years ago, when the oldest was about 4 or 5. I never learned to swim, the Farmer never had lessons as a child either, so it has become a priority for us to have the kids learn. Not only for safety, but so when they go to a pool or lake or 'water world', they can actually have fun and not have to slide off the slide holding their nose, like I did! So the older two are now in level 6 (out of 10), my lil' chef is (still!) in level 2, hoping to move up today. And the Princess just began! She was so excited to finally join her older siblings in swim lessons. She practiced in the tub, she practiced on the couch. She was ready to jump right in on the first day! We have a deal, that whenever a child moves up a level, they will get a Jamba Juice of their choice on the way home from lessons. So far this week, i have not had to buy any. Last year, I bought 2 in one week for my Swimmer...

"souther" --[adverb] a direction, as in "We need to go souther from here." Ok, I will admit, this one came from me. And my husband won't let me forget it. In my defense, it was spoken in the heat of the moment, during our first ever family vacation. Our oldest was 9 months old, so I was still in the throes of raging baby-hormones and my brain wasn't properly functioning. But we still use it, 10 years later.

This is my dad. He collects tractors. Not collectible size tractors, but life size, as shown in the picture. I think he is getting one for every child of his. Or maybe every grandchild. (And that's a lot!) My dad has farmin' in his blood. He now farms the land he was born and raised on. When I was a child, we had a teeny tiny farm, plus acreage down the road that was a forest - literally. Looking back, it was a great place to grow up. At the time I didn't see it. As a parent myself, I can see it. My dad has worked hard all of his life, even after retiring, he never really did 'retire'. He keeps busy and I think this keeps him going. He taught us to work, every day except Sunday. And that work ethic is something I can't shake! Sleeping in - even on a Saturday morning - seems slothful! I knew - really knew - my Farmer was The One I had to marry, when he came home to visit and got along really well with my dad. Their first conversation was about fava beans. It was ...

We spent another afternoon at the farm. This time I weeded pumpkins, rows and rows of them, while my husband took care of stringing up the beans and planting some more carrots. As I raked that hoe continually I began to feel the ache in my arms, my back, my stomach. I thought, this must be a great addition to my workout! Now instead of lifting hand weights, I can hoe and weed and build up my arm-strength. How come those fitness gurus never caught onto that?! And the stomach - oh, I had my abs in tightly, working on that flab those 4 sweet little leprechauns left me. I even tried different ways of holding the hoe and ways of moving to see which side worked best, which side worked those arms more. No conclusive data there. Just a little blister on my hand.

We took the little mutt into the groomer yesterday. I figured she needed some kind of hair cut for summertime. She was starting to look pretty ragged and mangy. Here's the "Before" photo. (Ok, I tried to get an "after" photo and the dog just wouldn't sit still enough to capture her new look. You'll just have to trust me that she is a shorn sheep now)

" Softing " - [verb] meaning to touch gently and lovingly as in " She is softing his hair " Our 2nd born coined this phrase; she is the affectionate, touchy-feely child in the family, a lot like her daddy. I have a picture somewhere of her softing her brother's head, way back when he would let her do that. I'll have to dig it off a disk and put it on the computer.

Last night the little Princess sang some songs with me before going to sleep. We sang Jesus Loves the Little Children, and Jesus Loves Me. And then she had to sing some of her own. Most of her songs use the words like love , or flowers , or God ; or whatever she happens to be looking at right then. So last night, her new song started out as " Jesus loves us, loves us, loves us; Jesus loves ..[pause as she looks around the darkened bedrom] ... loves zucchini" Unfortunately she didn't get to finish her song because I couldn't stop giggling.

This is one of the reasons I married my husband. He can always make me laugh. (This was taken in one of our favorite restaurants, with some fancy kid toy called "wiki stix')

What do these all have in common? Our weekend. On Friday the kids and I headed out to the farm to tackle the weeds that had sprung up from all the rain we've gotten. It was a beautiful afternoon for pulling weeds and helping Grandpa in the corn rows. And if it hadn't been for the row of potatoes I accidentally allowed to be dug up, it would have been a perfect Friday. I didn't know there were potatoes planted there. I didn't know it took the Farmer and the kids hours to dig and plant them in the hot sun.And in my defense, there were no visible shoots poking out of the ground. I just thought the stakes were there for ... well some other reason. The Farmer met us out at the farm after a long, difficult, full-of-problems, workday; only to find his vegetables uprooted. His weekend was off to a fine start. That night the kids helped me, gleefully, stick little sticky price tags on our items to be sold in a garage sale. The wind was picking up, a few sprinkles fell, but we we...

After 4 days I have had enough. The girls' room needs cleaning. Up until now I have turned my eyes away, bit my tongue and said nothing about the fact that I cannot see the floor in their bedroom. I didn't even stoop down and put the sweaters on their hooks, or the Barbies in their box. I held back and let it pile up. Three girls sharing one bedroom can cause a lot of piling. I did not post a photo because it would scare anyone who saw it, unless they were under the age of 10. So this morning I told the 8 yr old to clean their room. I told the 6 yr old to help her sister clean the room. This seems to get through all that hair into their brains. Usually. The Princess however, needs a bit more direction. If I tell her to put the doll chairs into the box, that works. Or similar directions. We have clear plastic bins for all the toys, which helps with the cleaning and organizing process. But sometimes I don't have the patience to stand and direct. So I tell her, "Make it p...

This morning I got to go for a run. And no, there was no one chasing me . Now that I no longer have a gym membership, my motivation isn't as strong. So I turn to other means. Like telling people my future goal. My goal, which I have shared with very few people, is to run a marathon before I turn 40. So, I have 3+ years to accomplish this. I figured if I start now, I will make it in time! It felt good to be out once I got moving. The air was crisp and cool. I got to laugh at the people in their cars going to work or school or wherever they go at that early hour. I got to pray. I got to ponder on who to invite for dinner this weekend. I had time to myself to just think, without little voices crowing for food, or help with homework, or mediation. And I got to see my mile-time improve with each loop I made! I have a website I use to track and measure my miles: http://www.usatf.org/routes/map/ It is a wonderful site to see how far you are from somewhere. I spent way too much time pla...

This is our youngest child. I will be calling her The Princess on this blog. She thinks she really is. She acts as if she is. Her siblings sometimes treat her as such too. Her parents are working on gently dispelling these ideas. She brings such sunshine to our lives though. She loves to sing out loud, and to the embarrassment of her brother, she loves to sing anywhere. Especially in public. She enters a room with an air of expectancy; such as, Here I am - look at me ! often accompanied by hands thrown out, arms wide open, smile on her face. Her bunny - seen clutched in her arms in the above photo - is her constant companion, and always required for any trip in the car, or time for sleep. There are so many facets to this 3 year old. And each of them makes me smile.

In the past 3 years 3 of us in this family have been to the Emergency Room. In June. First in was my son, for a deep cut to his shoulder. Thankfully it did not require stitches. Next up was myself for a scary attack of hives, which grew into a full blown case of chronic hives. And then the lil' Chef (3rd born) had a nasty cut to her lip and required stitches. But wait - there's more. Last night after the beautiful storm we had here, my son's hay fever went up a notch or three. We have been treating his asthma throughout the week, but at this point nothing was helping. His chest hurt and he couldn't draw a deep breath. My motherly intuition kicked in and I called the nurses line. After discussing the finer points of asthma, the nurse said, "Take him to the emergency room." Hello?! That shook me up. I had to repeat it to her. And now my son and The Farmer's attention were tuned in. After a brief debate with The Farmer, he put on his shoes and drove the boy t...

A major storm rolled through our area this afternoon. I had just gotten home from taking the kids out on a special field trip. They splashed and ran through the fountains just outside our state capital. It felt muggy and hot - unusual for Oregon. An hour later, my husband The Farmer (how I will refer to him from here on out) was home early from work, exclaiming about the weather. He brought up the National Weather Service website and read the warnings out to me. I love this about him! He sounded nearly giddy about the impending storm. First came the wind; slowly breezing in; then the intensity of the wind picked up. My son scurried about bringing in buckets and such, due to The Farmers exclamation about the windspeeds. Then we looked out the front porch and saw dark black clouds zooming across the sky. Yes, zooming! The Farmer and the boy stood out on the driveway watching and talking about the weather. Then we heard the thunder, saw the flashes of lightning. And finally the rain came ...

" Honk shuer " [honk shoo-er] -noun; -- someone who is sleeping or snoring As in "You are a honk shuer, Mommy." Can also be used as a verb, as in "Are you honk shuing?!" The word this week comes from my youngest again. She was listening to her sister pretend to sleep, making the pretend snoring sounds and thus labeled her sister as a honk shuer. We use it mostly when we are teasing and snuggling.

A conversation I had with my youngest today: 3 yr old: Mom, what is re-bellys mean? Me: "Um, what word?" 3 yr old: "The word you used when I wouldn't go potty. " Aha! "Oh, rebellious!" 3 yr old: "Yeah, re-bellys." "Well, it means you have an angry heart that doesn't want to obey." 3 yr old: "Oh. Well, I want to have a funny heart. "

We spent the past Saturday like most other Saturdays in the spring and summer - out at the farm. It's my dad's farm; it's been in the family for years. My dad and his 5 siblings were born and raised there. Now all that's being raised there is wheat and garbanzo beans and garden vegetables. We planted a large plot for our own garden this summer. We planted pole beans, peas, carrots, lettuce, rutabagas, peppers, tomatoes, potatoes, corn, cucumbers, watermelon, pumpkins - and probably some other foods I've forgotten. My husband has farming blood in him. Ever since he was a little boy he liked planting and growing things. Thankfully my 3rd-born takes after him, except she plans to run a restaurant, not a farm, when she is grown. She's also offered us free meals, so no need to worry about that 401k, right? My Farm Man planted as many green plants as he could on our apartment balcony in those early days of wedded bliss. Now he has acres to choose from. And I think he ...