You Gots Some Idears?

Hey, I'm collecting ideas for hair clips and flowers and such.  Do any of you guys have any?  Do you know of any great blogs or demos for making them?  I must craft, but my inspiration is minimal.  Help me, people!  (o:

Back Away from the Cheese and No One Will Get Hurt

"No!  My cheese!  MY CHEESE!" I shriek, batting away the little fingers that are trying to snitch my dwindling block of yellowy goodness.  I have finally found something that sounds edible and I will not relinquish it; not even to a three year old...or the eight or ten year old, who are hot on her heels.

"Cheese?  I want some cheese!" my eight year old begs.  I cup it in my hands to hide it.

"Can you eat anything in the pantry?  Yes!  Can I?  NO!  When you feel like puking every time you look at food, then I will share my cheese!"

"I feel sick!" offered the three year old.

"BLUGH!  BLUGH!"  my 10 year old boy switched tactics.  He figures that if his retching sounds can really make me throw up, he may have a clean shot at the prize.  I level my all-knowing glare in his direction.  I see his plan.

"Boy Child!  I will aim at you!"  He scrabbles back a few steps, grinning.  It has been three days since any food has sounded remotely appealing.  But the great oxymoron of pregnancy is that if I don't eat, I will throw up.  If I eat anything unappealing, I will throw up.  If I think about eating anything unappealing, I will throw up.

"Mmmm!  I think I will have some of this yummy spaghetti!  Want some, Mama?"  my boy snickers.  He pulls the pot out of the fridge (no, not a serving bowl.  Don't expect too much from me right now.)  "Ooo!  Look how thick and squishy it is, Mama!"  He scoops up a large spoonful--yes, I refrigerated the serving spoon too-- with a slow, squelching sound and dramatically plops a large dollop onto his plate.

My stomach gives an uneasy jolt.

"Want me to get you some, Mama?" he asks innocently, wafting it past me on the way to the microwave.  "I don't mind getting you a nice, big scoop!"

"Uh, *gulp*  no thanks, Sweetheart.  That's very kind of you.  I've got my cheese," I gasp, panting slightly in my effort not to inhale the smell.

"Oh, okay!  Just let me know, Mama and I'll get you a nice, big plate of this great spaghetti.  I don't mind!"  Was that an evil, plotting look on my sweet child's face as he started the microwave?  The cooking noodle scent starts to fill the room.

That smell.  THAT SMELL!

I drop my cheese in my run to the bathroom.

The Latest

Well, nothing new is going on, but it has been a while since I put up pictures of our fam.  Thought I would share.  (o:  Lots of cousin love, anyway.  Maybe, if I get to it, I'll come back and explain about them all.  Hee-hee.

Why is this child wearing these clothes?  No idea.  I don't even think she has a mother.  No mother I know, anyway.  (o:

Birthday Ecstasy

Today was my brother's birthday and we ended up celebrating in the best way imaginable. We had the most incredible rain storm I have seen in years.  The wind and lightening were going like crazy and the streets were instantly flooded.  It reminded me so much of Michael.  I have this picture of him in my head during a rain storm like this.  He just stood in the front yard at Mom and Dad's house, looking up into the sky, just soaking it all in--literally.  Basking.  I could see him sending this storm just as a fun reminder of the passion he had for life.  My hubby ran out in it to entertain the kids, then all the kids followed him (even the cousins we were babysitting--right down to the 1 yr. old!) and ran laughing and shrieking through the puddles and the buckets of rain.  I even ran with them (much to the amusement of our 91 yr. old neighbor who was watching all the craziness from his front door.)  It felt like I passed a little piece of Michael down to them.

My big girl just came upstairs carrying a helium balloon with the words "Feliz cumpleanos" on it.  She said she found it on our front porch and that it had just blown there.  He is determined that we celebrate today!  (o:  Happy birthday, bro.  I sure love you.  I sure miss you.

M.ost R.estful I.nvention Ever.

This has been an insane couple of weeks.  I've wanted to blog about it for awhile now, but didn't really want to until I knew there was a happy ending.  Now that I know there is, I can write about it.

I had a CT scan done a month or so ago for something completely unrelated, but in the scan they found an "anomaly" under my sternum that looked like a tumor.  Thought that was kind of interesting.  Almost immediately, a cardio-thoracic specialist ordered an MRI for me.  For various reasons, we kept having to postpone the test, which was complete agony.  Because I was sure I was dying of breast cancer, the spousal unit and I discussed which women I approve of as second wives, how to arrange childcare in the meantime, and what he should do with the life insurance money.  Most people probably think that we are very weird for talking about this kind of stuff, but based on our pasts, we have very good reason to be sure that any news would be very, very bad news.  I did a lot of sleeping in the week before my actual MRI, to escape my thoughts mostly; my thoughts that it really wouldn't be so bad to be done with this life.  There are so many things to look forward to about the next life.  There, I won't have to worry about bad guys stealing or hurting my children.  Here, I am tired.  I am tired of missing my brother.  I am tired of life being so hard for so long.  Now, don't misunderstand and think that I'm poised at the edge of a cliff from which I'm about to hurl myself.   I don't want to leave my family.  I love my sweet husband and angel kids.  I don't want my children to be raised by someone else.  On the whole, I have a very happy and good life.  I was just thinking that, if I had to go and it was my time, I wouldn't mind so much.

Anyway, during the MRI, they gave me earplugs and headphones for music, which seemed like an odd combo at first.  As soon as the machine started though, I understood why; it is so loud!  Of course, with my amazing skills, I slept through nearly the whole thing.  I only woke up when they had to put the contrast in my IV.  Very restful.  But the results were even more restful.  Of course, we had to wait 2 days for them through which Spousal Unit tried not to vomit and I tried to stay unconscious...  But, it turns out that I am totally fine and my anomaly isn't so weird after all, but a remnant of a gland that usually shrinks by the time you're five.

Alas, the sweet young things I had picked out as wife #2 will have to wait for a lesser man to snatch them up, for now anyway...

Ideas!

So, I have been getting ideas!  Like this:

 and this:

 and this!: 

Before

There are so many great projects to do, and so little time!!  How do you choose?!

After

A belt made of felt!

And, of course, there are the not-so-glamorous, yet-equally-as-fun projects of building shelves!  How about you guys?  What are your projects you are working on?  That is, if anyone still checks my blog!  (o:  If not, I'll reply back to myself with more ideas!

Re-motivated!

Well, I found the ultimate motivator for a slacker attitude: blog about it!  Seeing it in writing is an eye-opener.  Today, I cleaned the whole bottom floor, stripped, scraped and sanded a dresser I've been wanting to refinish, and cut boards for some shelves I'm building in our bathroom.  And I took a nice, long nap!  What a great day!

Lethargy Complete

Do you ever have times where you feel like you are only moving because someone is pushing you from behind?  Where, if it was up to you, you would flop down where you are and lay there like a wet noodle?  I am in wet noodle land right now and I'm trying to figure out why.  It takes a great amount of internal persuasion to go clean the bathroom, or vacuum.  I don't know, maybe I'm just feeling lazy.  Can you be selectively lazy?  I love cleaning the kitchen and the dining room, and make sure they sparkle at least once every day.  Beyond that though, I feel absolutely no interest in branching out, cleaning-wise.  Thank heavens my kids do chores every day or the house would really blow up!  Am I the only one?

With the occasional great weather we've been having, I have an innate desire to improve my surroundings.  The only problem is that it is in direct conflict with my lethargy.  I have a dresser in the garage waiting to be refinished, four boards leaning against it that will be shelves in my bathroom, half-painted walls in the same bathroom, floor sealant for the kids' bathtub, caulk for the kitchen splash board, and putty and paint for the spots of dining room wall that need to be patched and re-painted.  Gah!  Where is my motivation?!  Where is my drive?!  This wet noodle needs a backbone, but doesn't know where to find it!

On a different note...

My big boy just went back to public school.  Wee babe keeps asking where he is; we've been keeping tabs on him for a year and a half, so it is weird for him to not be there.  Though both the she and I miss him dreadfully during the day, both he and I are much happier.  He is making a lot of friends and comes home with his eyes alight with excitement over recess adventures.  I've spent a lot more time out of the house not feeling guilty that I'm not devoting all my time to home-schooling.  It's beautiful. 

I have read more books though!  After "Talk of the Town", I read another book by the same author, "Word Gets Around" and now I'm on the third one, "Never Say Never".  These books are so funny and have the silliest characters in them, but they are also really uplifting and have some deep messages in there as well.  At some points, like my previous post, I just have to sit back and think about how profound that conversation was and how I can fit it into my life.  Now, if only they discussed how to get my can in gear...  Maybe she's saving that for the next book.  Guess I'll have to read it and find out!  (o:

Life is a Football Game

I read this quote in a really great book I just finished called "Talk of the Town" by Lisa Wingate.  A sweet older woman is chock full of wisdom and loves to subtly pass it along.  This really jumped out at me, letting me know that just because I'm not in control of every aspect of my life, doesn't mean that it still isn't going in the right direction:

"...sometimes in life you carry the ball, sometimes you just run along, and sometimes you're flat on your back, but just because you don't have the ball don't mean it's not moving toward the goal."

Long Time, No See

Hey, Bro.

Your wife has a good thing going, writing to you all the time.  There are some things I want to talk to you about, so I figured I would try it out.

It's really early in the morning, but I just woke up and remembered a dream I had just had about you.  Now, I can't go back to sleep.  In the dream, you were about 10 or so, and I must have been about 12 since I wasn't much taller than you.  I was walking in a crowd of people, when I looked back and saw you walking a little ways behind me.  Your blond hair was sticking out all over and you had a favorite old yellow T-shirt on.  You hadn't seen me yet, so, grinning, I sang out "Mi-chael!"  You looked around and almost saw me, but people got in the way. "Mi-chael!" --this game was getting funny now as you smiled and tried to find me ahead of you.  "Michael Dichael!"  I called out your childhood nickname from Mom and you finally saw me and ran over to me.  I had pulled out of the crowd, over by Mom and Dad, and when you got to me, I just hugged and hugged you.  I couldn't explain why I wanted to just keep hugging you, and I could tell that Mom felt the same way.  I knew in my head that it should be a little silly for me to hug you so fiercely and for so long, but I didn't care.  I just stood there hugging and hugging you like you'd been gone a million years.

Oh, Bro.  I miss you so terribly.  I went to a work party last weekend and played Rock Band for a little while.  "Just Like Heaven" was one of the few songs that I knew in that version and I could hear you singing it in my head during the whole song.  It's been stuck in my head now for a week and I sing it when I ride my bike home from Mom and Dad's house every day.  There are so many songs that I didn't realize I had attached to you.  The other day I found myself thinking, "Man, Michael would love this song if it wasn't country!"  (o:

I think about you all the time.  I've been down there in those waters with you more times than I can count.  I talk to your picture on the way up the stairs.  I talk to your picture on my computer desktop while I'm working.  I use you in my Young Women lessons because you are on my mind.  I just miss you.  I miss you so, so terribly!

The week before you left, I was at Young Womens' camp and heard a teenage girl talking about her twin brother.  She said that it was so annoying having him at dances.  I stopped her and said, "What?!  You have a built-in dance partner whenever you need one!  My brother and I started out all the dances when I used to go!"  Man, that was fun, wasn't it?  Then, the next week, you were gone.

It's funny how, when you were here, it wasn't a big deal if I didn't talk to you very long.  I knew you would always call back.  You probably got so frustrated with me about that.  Now, there are so many things I want to talk to you about that you used to have to drag out of me.  I want to tell you about our kitchen floor and how it got flooded and ruined from the dishwasher.  I want to talk to you about flooring options and if you put tile or linoleum in your bathroom when you redid it.  I want to talk to you about bike trailers and if you have any ideas about the best ones for the best price.  Now, the best price thing probably wouldn't have been as significant and I probably would have rolled my eyes at how much you would spend on one and inwardly think you threw your money away like crazy, even though it was completely none of my business.  I want to hear from you about what your kids are doing.  I know I would have gotten a call when your baby rolled over.  You would have called me to tell me your big girl's antics and how she makes the best big sister.  That sweet girl was your sun.  I've never seen such an adoring father.  Every time she did any new skill, you were on the phone. glowing about it.  You sure just sucked her in and enjoyed every second.

Well, Bro, that's what has been in my mind.  It was fun to see your grinning, childhood face, and to hug the cookies out of you.  I sure needed that.  I love you, Bro.

Something Worth Blogging About

Our commuter car has some, let's say, eccentricities.  For one thing, it feels like the seat is crooked, so I'm never 100% sure that I am really steering straight, or if the car is just trying to make me think I am..  Then, there is the delightful maze of cracks on our front windshield, that doubles as a shield for the road in front of you and an entertaining past time for the passenger.  My very favorite though, is the deceitful gas sensor.  We have to watch our mileage like a hawk because the gas gauge will pretend like it is full for 200 miles, and then, in a moment of the car's weakness, will plummet to past empty with the light on and everything.  Within about 30 seconds though, it will realize its slip and shoot back up to full, hoping you didn't notice.  I'll tell you why this is my very favorite, as of today.

This morning, my 7 year old woke up, and as a result of her lightning-trigger puking reflex, stayed home with her dad from church.  As a result of her abdominal fireworks, I took the small car (a.k.a. The Great Deceiver) and the other two kids for a morning of spiritual enlightenment.  On the way home in said deceiver, on the most INSANE intersection of the BUSIEST street in our entire town, in the CENTER lane, T.G.D. pulled a fast one.  Gauge plummeted, car shuddered, and she was done.  Of course our ENTIRE ward was driving home to the same neighborhood at that same time, on that same street, which was both a blessing and a curse. My uncle was stopped behind me, and I waved in a merry, care-free and nonchalant manner to all the church members as they gawked at/ swerved around us.  As I had only grabbed my wallet and keys out of my purse on the way out of the door that morning (hey, a woman can only carry so many bags, and scriptures had a priority at that moment), I didn't have my cell phone.  Eventually, my uncle also swerved around us and I knew he would come back to help.  I called back to my kids, "Look guys!  Uncle Steve is coming to rescue us!"  My big boy stopped praying for the car to start and craned his neck to see.  When Steve got to the window, he asked me to put it in neutral so he could push...in his church clothes.  I did and then looked back to see how he was doing, and gasped.  Men were running from all over the place to come help.  There were youth waiting on the street corner to be able to cross and come help.  It was the sweetest, funniest, most wonderful thing I had ever seen: this whole herd of men in dress suits pushing my car down the street, around the corner and into a parking lot.  There were so many of them pushing, that they had to run to keep up.

It was this, times about 6:

It's so nice to know that I am taken care of and that the Lord, and the ward are looking out for me.