tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31513955534059557832024-03-05T10:10:50.125-08:00Ramblings of the "7-up" MomNaomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.comBlogger118125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-34368809382229553612017-08-24T08:24:00.001-07:002017-08-24T08:24:58.694-07:00Harder than I thought...So...some stuff has happened. A lot of stuff actually. The year is...2017. What? How the h- ? What the f... Pardon my censored shock and horror.<br />
This was the year! The year the oldest daughter graduated from high school! Yes, I remember, there is one older and we did this 4 years ago. But this is The girl! The golden one, the best friend from birth. I thought her graduation and leaving for College (which happens in 3 days) was going to be the biggest thing for me to deal with and adjust to this year. WRONG... I will go back at some point and revisit her awesomeness and success, and some not so awesome moments, at a later time, (according to my track record it could be years from now.) This momentous year was, however, trumped by the middle child's diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes. The story of his diagnosis is one I will also have to hash out in another post, it's a hard one. Right now I must vent. I have not yet dealt with the post-trauma that often occurs in the aftermath of an emergency. The tears are always just below the surface. I keep shoving that cork farther into the 'feelings bottle'. In part, because I'm afraid that once the crying starts it won't stop; also, because the crisis really isn't over. <br />
Shortly after diagnosis someone made a comment that it wasn't a death sentence. They have 2 adult kids with T1 so I'm sure they know. "That's true," I thought, "BUT, it is a life sentence."<br />
I know quite a few people with children that have T1, but I still feel completely alone in this. It's like I can see other people swimming and treading water near me but my head isn't bobbing above the surface of the water yet.<br />
We were in Denver at the Barbra Davis Center for Childhood Diabetes, and they educated us pretty well. There is a ton of information and resources online, which I'm grateful for, but it almost feels like too much and not enough at the same time. <br />
Here's what I have gathered so far: 1.treating Type 1 diabetes is a guessing game. 2. No two bodies are the same. 3. Hormones are a pain in the... 4. T1 boys + pubescent hormones is even worse (stone cold, won't talk, won't eat= contention) 5. I don't have my crap together. oh, and 6. Life flights and hospital bills are really expensive. 7. this sucks.<br />
I hate watching my kids struggle. Especially when I'm no farther ahead than they are. I hope the blind really can lead the blind.<br />
Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-19377374821126232052015-11-06T06:21:00.001-08:002015-11-06T06:21:23.426-08:00WTFlipI haven't blogged since 2011. The format has changed and after typing for a good 5 mins I hit something and lost all that I put. That was fun.<br />
Facebook took over and the ability to post and instantly have feedback on your life and cleverness appealed to the masses. Then everyone shared so much of their own lives all the time, there was nothing original left to post and so they started sharing other peoples ideas, pics and memes. While I enjoyed catching up and learning what was going on in everyone's lives. I am bored with this lack of originality that is afoot.<br />
Raising teenagers and young adult type people is far more emotionally exhausting than caring for the physical needs they had as babies and toddlers.<br />
With babies and toddlers, there was a nice peaceful lull after they were put in bed and the calmness of the night settled in. With teens and semi-adult-ish people the concern and mental exhaustion continues through the night and transforms into worry and stress. Remember the old joke about giving your kids years worth of material for the mental health professionals? yeah...that.<br />
It's not that being in this next section of life isn't entertaining. We have inside jokes. laughing fits, sentimental moments. Great talks and time to share. It's just different now because they all have opinions. And they are fully capable of sharing those opinions...<br />
I need to continue to expunge the stuff in my brain. I have needed to for a long while. It's just that it's not all entertaining all the time anymore. Scenarios are of a more serious nature now. hearts are more tender, life more serious.<br />
I'm grateful for what I have written in the past. Those memories were priceless. I'm not a great family historian, therefore, I would not have had those stories if I hadn't decided to write a silly little blog.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-12052739627176412422011-05-23T08:46:00.000-07:002015-11-06T06:23:03.717-08:00Well that was embarrassing! That last entry, anyway. but hey, what's the point in writing anything if we have to filter, right? at least it got me going again.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoqSyB_umJpXnau51Y75YnnafIAIEOQYK055nDV2XVj2Z7XKHkgF6dX_ntF6q2sRECaq8ptINgI5Enn_8qVROahYSETh8UvtEshz4h0tdkSsjJK4wEVLw2lSDjqPAW6DPwW04ybZ4JNFuz/s1600/5-22-2011+6%253B11%253B40+PM.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><br /></a><br />
The kids have 2 and 1/2 days of school left...Then what? I dunno but I'm betting it's gonna get a lot louder around here.<br />
We finally had family pictures done. I was accosted by some guy in "P$*^#@" (one of the stores that I hate and refuse to give credit to) with a flyer and the words come get a family portrait done for $10 plus a $5 sitting fee. I seriously said "what the h*ll, we haven't intentionally taken a picture of all of us since Jacob was 5 months old...sign me up" The guy looked at the two kids I had with me, and said "so it's these two plus mom and dad?" (chuckle, chuckle.)me "No, there's 7 kids." him "7? so that makes..." me "9 people total, is that a problem?" him "Uh, no. 9 is fine, we just get to charge more for 12." ...?...?... me thinking (so...why did you tell me that...sorry to disappoint, I suppose I could go find 3 more people so that you could make an extra 5 bucks.) me "So, we're good?" him "yep, and don't forget to leave your animals at home." me "well crap, that's half my kids."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoqSyB_umJpXnau51Y75YnnafIAIEOQYK055nDV2XVj2Z7XKHkgF6dX_ntF6q2sRECaq8ptINgI5Enn_8qVROahYSETh8UvtEshz4h0tdkSsjJK4wEVLw2lSDjqPAW6DPwW04ybZ4JNFuz/s1600/5-22-2011+6%253B11%253B40+PM.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609952529743580818" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoqSyB_umJpXnau51Y75YnnafIAIEOQYK055nDV2XVj2Z7XKHkgF6dX_ntF6q2sRECaq8ptINgI5Enn_8qVROahYSETh8UvtEshz4h0tdkSsjJK4wEVLw2lSDjqPAW6DPwW04ybZ4JNFuz/s400/5-22-2011+6%253B11%253B40+PM.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 318px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfGh2FpntDoXdnRxDlnlKKEcfdCiQrh0XPUGTzZqlsNQOAgyLN_D4LcuID5hFmMaBgehQHuQdLfakS9b8jXHi7HFBnvdvV76jwAfUwJy0yiXqAmo4ZY38XDJ8Zhx-wD_jry6ltnEFnmzm/s1600/5-22-2011+6%253B01%253B25+PM.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609956209067521410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfGh2FpntDoXdnRxDlnlKKEcfdCiQrh0XPUGTzZqlsNQOAgyLN_D4LcuID5hFmMaBgehQHuQdLfakS9b8jXHi7HFBnvdvV76jwAfUwJy0yiXqAmo4ZY38XDJ8Zhx-wD_jry6ltnEFnmzm/s400/5-22-2011+6%253B01%253B25+PM.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 316px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYwv7TL84BnI408YlmmZE-eB8J2x-imFhhxcmKQXCspyBbCOLu-YSfVS8l7ClrNzGUi4e6zcPfB7zIbs2PSNy69AZGrcTMcAGQAdeL1WCD6sW0tsh8nf6xkVD5-qz2OekxTREDuM7R7MjE/s1600/5-22-2011+5%253B56%253B40+PM.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609956208761644050" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYwv7TL84BnI408YlmmZE-eB8J2x-imFhhxcmKQXCspyBbCOLu-YSfVS8l7ClrNzGUi4e6zcPfB7zIbs2PSNy69AZGrcTMcAGQAdeL1WCD6sW0tsh8nf6xkVD5-qz2OekxTREDuM7R7MjE/s400/5-22-2011+5%253B56%253B40+PM.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 316px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxy_KcjHy5TFeCwlgQgk6BgfABJ_P3FHR4Wj-XG1Jbj7NgqzFXkF909yVdyuIXOwac_4VrcSfuaTZRYQIDNtN6fGAfYFrVvhpOCSF-j8Hoeg66VwYbGC_sKCnqF5ImdPCl_WXWnPE7ypeG/s1600/Kids.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609979101608999346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxy_KcjHy5TFeCwlgQgk6BgfABJ_P3FHR4Wj-XG1Jbj7NgqzFXkF909yVdyuIXOwac_4VrcSfuaTZRYQIDNtN6fGAfYFrVvhpOCSF-j8Hoeg66VwYbGC_sKCnqF5ImdPCl_WXWnPE7ypeG/s400/Kids.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 317px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbZheS33NyCy4gEEr4Kvek1kWkgKl5cTLQfEEj9AbXR18H_28fKyLj_DdEuiBVd292VWMsPvrx4X898ihJ4CmUHk29t4d9H_efQ-P-HKUQ0qNJALyPs6kZVK_QxwBgNLP2tXiLNpGaW7E/s1600/JasonNaomi+color.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5609984043293219314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbZheS33NyCy4gEEr4Kvek1kWkgKl5cTLQfEEj9AbXR18H_28fKyLj_DdEuiBVd292VWMsPvrx4X898ihJ4CmUHk29t4d9H_efQ-P-HKUQ0qNJALyPs6kZVK_QxwBgNLP2tXiLNpGaW7E/s400/JasonNaomi+color.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 312px;" /></a>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-49484200238145497852011-05-22T10:33:00.000-07:002011-05-22T11:17:17.144-07:00I'm really grateful that I started writing this blog when I did. There is definitely something special that surrounds that time of life when all your kids are babies and you think that diapers will rule your existence forever. Humor can be found at every turn and sanity hangs on the finest thread. And then you shut your eyes and it's over. There hasn't been a diaper found in my house for almost a year now. I only had 2 kids at home this school year. and next it will be only one. I'm trepidatious about only having Ellie at home. In part because having one means that I will become the entertainer again. I like it when there are more kids at home because they play with each other. One good thing about Ellie is that she's a sleeper. So I guess after getting the other 6 off to school, maybe I'll get to go back to sleep every once in a while.<br />Something happened when I moved here. It's been a gradual change. I'm not sure what all has contributed to it. Perhaps it's circumstantial, perhaps physiological. probably a little of both. My steadfastness in life has begun to wavier. My contentedness to sit and just be has faded. I don't feel the strength and commitment to the ties that are my life. And I hate it. I hate feeling unrest. I hate feeling like I have to accept things the way they are because "that's how it is". And I hate my husbands job. because I'm lonely. ans I have no control or power over that. So I am forced to be in this situation and just be... and just feel and just deal. Yes, I am grateful for good employment, for financial security. I'm not stupid. I do not, however, like being presented with the argument of "sure we could find a different job, but it will financially ruin us" and having grown up in poverty, you know darn well that I would never conscientiously allow someone to go through that. So it doesn't matter, that I'm frustrated, lonely, wavering, tired. and giving up on "all that is holy" so to speak...I still have to put up and shut up, for the good of the masses. AND we are STUCK in this lonely little town, at least until the oldest graduates, so that we don't ruin his life. I'm just frustrated. I shouldn't be writing right now. Nothing is funny. Actually it's just crap.<br />I miss my friends. I miss my stupid husband. I miss babies and that feeling of being stuck and belonging, in a good way. I miss my faith. and the "everything's black and white" perspective. Everything is NOT black and white. anyone who thinks it is, is a fool. I guess it's just my time to learn about all that grey. I'm not a super fan of grey. But guess what...grey is the space between black and white, being there doesn't determine which color you're headed toward, you're just there. without grey there isn't hope. and I don't want to be a part of a life that doesn't hold hope for everyone.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-2920530123212747572011-04-17T13:58:00.000-07:002011-04-17T20:57:26.306-07:00So, Jacob just came out of the bath wrapped in a towel, walked into the kitchen and over to me at the table, (where I sat, beginning to type something on this empty page.) He tripped over the leg of the chair and caught himself on the table, almost with his head. The first thing out of his mouth was "It's a good thing we put this table here, otherwise I could have fallen and cracked my head on the floor." Man, I love that positive thinking child, he may save me yet. 8 out 9 people (in my house) would have complained about the placement of the chairs and table because if they weren't there, we wouldn't have tripped. But, not Jacob...<br />I've missed writing. Well, maybe it's not the writing as much as it is the altered perspective of looking for something to write about when going about my day. It's one thing to go about wandering from chore to chore, or activity to activity, and just doing it to get it done (or not). It's an entirely different thing going through the day finding chaos and saying, this would make a great story. It changed my whole outlook. I miss that about myself. I've been on vacation for a while...from normal things anyway. I had the opportunity to play the character of *Milly* in "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers". It was a wonderful experience. To be honest there wasn't one second of the rehearsals or performances that I didn't absolutely love. For the last 13 years I have been content to say, "I can direct. I'm fine organizing and putting stuff together and making stuff up and directing everybody else..." but guess what, I'm an actor. Plain and simple. Well, OK maybe not so plain and simple (if you're my husband). Jason came to a rehearsal one night and commented that he hadn't seen "that girl" since before we got married...My only explanation is that I was doing what I love to do. Not only that but I am an extremely social creature. So, being with a bunch of people that feel the same way about performing and music and being "social" was refreshing to my soul.<br />The following question has arisen more than once in my life. "Why do you do what you do?" as far as performing goes..."I don't get it." this usually comes from the more logically left brained people. They don't understand the weeks and days and hours of preparation, for what turns out to be 2 or 3 performances of a 2 hour show. The time ratio is comparable to preparing a solo or musical number. Hours of practice for 3 to 5 minutes of song. I've questioned this a few times myself. And in the last week I have culminated years worth of tiny answers into one giant explanation. and here it is... First the explanation of why the time for preparation. When I first started performing, I used to practice just so I didn't look like an idiot. I didn't want to be judged for doing a *bad* job. I was concerned for what people thought of me. This was how it was for years. then something happened as I focused all of my attention on just singing; for church, firesides, and conferences. I started to realize the importance of being as prepared as I could possibly be so that I, as a performer, would not be seen. I wanted to be a messenger. A doorway, not a road block. If my performance was the best I could make it, I would not get in the way of the Spirit. Make sense? Does to me, guess that's all that matters. When I started to sing with the Museum Singers, (that's the 12 piece ladies group that I have been with for a year and a half) We didn't sing sacred music. and I got confused. Asking questions such as "why am I doing this?" (other than to get out of the house once a week) "Belonging" to the Washakie Museum is not always an artists dream come true. They are out to make money. I get it. But I am volunteering my time and talents. This is not something that I do lightly. While my issues with them and the *way they do things* could write a post of its own I choose not to continue 'cause that's not where I was headed. Back to the whole Singers thing. I learned that while I wasn't just singing sacred/gospel focused music, I was enjoying the music I singing and I enjoyed the company I kept. It was nice to be surrounded by women of many Faiths. To realize that they had love and respect for our Father in Heaven and Jesus Christ, like I did. So, that helped me grow. and I was singing and my voice was growing. Good stuff.<br />Then came along 7B47B. as it became fondly known to us. I have never done a full scale musical, let alone been the lead. I jumped in with both feet, hands, head and heart and gave it all I had. And it worked. It was great. I fell in love with acting again. and guess what? it's SO much easier now. I'm not afraid. I don't get nervous anymore. I feel more confident in so many ways. Mostly because I have learned that real life is way bigger than what the guy in the 3rd row thought of my performance. All of that learned made it a pleasurable experience. Now, to the question of "What does it Matter?"<br />I had a lady come up to me the day after she saw the show and she said to me "I went away a better person for seeing that show. It was very uplifting." and that was the answer. If I can "serve" people by doing what I love and have a passion for, isn't that enough? If I can help you escape, or dream, or smile, or cry, or connect with some sort of emotion that you haven't felt in forever, isn't that enough? If I put hours of time and effort in to preparing something so that for just a little while you can feel again, in a safe environment, isn't that enough? It's like therapy without you having to air your dirty laundry. And that's what it is...<br />Now there is another side to the right brained creative thinkers. The key is in those last three words I just typed. Creative or Create. God (the Creator) gave us the opportunity to come to Earth to learn explore and Create for ourselves. He didn't finish everything for us. Every time I sing, draw, paint, act, play the piano, play with the kids, I am creating. Even if it is repeating something over and over. No note is ever played or sung, and no line is ever delivered EXACTLY the same, it all gets created over again, it's a beautiful thought. It's the next best thing to creating little bodies for those little spirits to come and live in. If you're not familiar with LDS lingo, It's the next best thing to having kids. Which in itself is the most "God like" thing we can do on Earth. Create something out of practically nothing. How cool is that. So, in our natural design to be more like our Father in Heaven, we long to create, well, some of us do anyway. I filled that need for about 16 years, creating little people. That time had passed. my need to create wasn't being filled as drastically as it had been and I felt useless. Until I figured out all of that stuff up there. I don't feel the need to defend myself as a performer any more. God did not give me the talents he did for nothing. They are purposeful, and wonderful and I am grateful. whether everybody "gets it" or not.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-56761275048799846762010-10-29T06:58:00.000-07:002010-10-29T07:12:21.735-07:00So I had parent teacher conferences this last week. For most of the kids anyway. I don't know if they had any at the high school. HOWEVER, for the other 4 kids in school, these were the best meetings I have ever had with teachers, EVER. Not one negative thing. Everyone is doing fabulously. Everyone is extremely conscientious, and kind to others. Organized and responsible. AND super smart... I tell you after I talked to Jacobs teacher I almost cried. I have been "fighting" with Spencer's teachers for 10 years now and I was afraid that was normal. Until Sariah started school and they said she was perfect. I thought she was the oddball out. Not true! the rest of my kids have turned out to be great in school too! It makes me feel such... relief. You know how you wonder if you're messing up your kids because of your own insecurities and failings and whatever else, mainly because they behave like heathens at home?(maybe that's just me)...But then you find out that they really are OK, not just OK but excelling! Sigh, what a relief. Now if we can just get them to be that way at home....Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-88457140715600644972010-10-15T16:51:00.000-07:002010-10-17T13:39:52.239-07:00So...Caleb looked at my hair a week or so ago and said to my husband, "Mom's turning into a grandma." That was it! I broke out the hair dye again.<br />I don't enjoy dying my hair so much anymore. It used to be fun, now it's kind of a chore. I don't have a choice though. It's either dye it or look like a 35yold grandma... So for those of you who have been blessed with the opportunity to have and keep your natural color...feel grateful and enjoy!<br />So I got the kids' school pictures...I put them on Facebook but since my husband still refuses to get an account, he has to see them here. They all turned out pretty good. I still don't know what's up with Caleb's hair, but everybody needs a school picture with messed up hair. And I see braces in the future for some of our kids, but for now let them be kids...snotty noses, messy hair and all that, because all too soon it will be over, they will be grown ...the last picture is proof of that.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCXeclyiCR8N9zvoORmwIFbrtWCUyAqGhis7ppTzwEo_jG57Ue76bejQGfz7uM7rsRdd8jksDurQSJLNUkviEAjIH6670XwVOepflD_81nQbUai6-Z-JqT6DsdOiR8f2TMtRpkSWaj0qrv/s1600/Jacob+school+pic+10.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCXeclyiCR8N9zvoORmwIFbrtWCUyAqGhis7ppTzwEo_jG57Ue76bejQGfz7uM7rsRdd8jksDurQSJLNUkviEAjIH6670XwVOepflD_81nQbUai6-Z-JqT6DsdOiR8f2TMtRpkSWaj0qrv/s400/Jacob+school+pic+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529113114804940242" border="0" />Jacob 5</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAo0kA2d8rLhu5LZNpwGsQW6FmKyqzHJeiphjgbL2Tfg3Eqh9i8lxLe94ZAQn3GstUWQJuAG0F_wUK24bidQ3WPwU7oCxqVLcJGIStY840hQPiQdAio1bhiaZKTqkFhE8BuxT1kK72i7U/s1600/Caleb+school+pic+10.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAo0kA2d8rLhu5LZNpwGsQW6FmKyqzHJeiphjgbL2Tfg3Eqh9i8lxLe94ZAQn3GstUWQJuAG0F_wUK24bidQ3WPwU7oCxqVLcJGIStY840hQPiQdAio1bhiaZKTqkFhE8BuxT1kK72i7U/s400/Caleb+school+pic+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529113097847480402" border="0" />Caleb 7</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX8Fa2xs2OCkKqU7rDwaYksiLwgk4pYqhuEnqvuOiHHkxAHuNlAP-3WeigTsP0mXPhu6TCNAReaNG1ZbYUi7ZhWmKPFfBiYpc-Ke5Pva3ATVeZQq-GUqVyxV9Syk0Pv_k6-XZwqKxy1eHa/s1600/Gabe+school+pic+10.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX8Fa2xs2OCkKqU7rDwaYksiLwgk4pYqhuEnqvuOiHHkxAHuNlAP-3WeigTsP0mXPhu6TCNAReaNG1ZbYUi7ZhWmKPFfBiYpc-Ke5Pva3ATVeZQq-GUqVyxV9Syk0Pv_k6-XZwqKxy1eHa/s400/Gabe+school+pic+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529113082772552786" border="0" />Gabriel 9</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rKS32MnAPwpSxcdqiuBCwwud2iZTvBU10QCIxnrwceN30kRrv4It2spqAPPPOKLHV55hiJvTqn9Bt8OrJPuZ9wh6WBQWTRCM0eRGI2sy4YdSvEDK1Um3VQLpHYYiSM9tZPdfRompKi2J/s1600/Sariah+school+pic+10.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rKS32MnAPwpSxcdqiuBCwwud2iZTvBU10QCIxnrwceN30kRrv4It2spqAPPPOKLHV55hiJvTqn9Bt8OrJPuZ9wh6WBQWTRCM0eRGI2sy4YdSvEDK1Um3VQLpHYYiSM9tZPdfRompKi2J/s400/Sariah+school+pic+10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529110196706127842" border="0" />Sariah 11</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSUqhg6vwlFA8Qrb2eSVPNE1gTo-l53CdAq1HIsOH75X8NsogrIogFVOj-Xkms32obQ2M7CXel3hD6ESzwBOO0jIZuUU4Yt3Dfzs4AWfmwi8fngMOpcdU0r-cIEYJqWxb7IMMBbnxTX-E/s1600/Spencer+school+pic+TU.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSUqhg6vwlFA8Qrb2eSVPNE1gTo-l53CdAq1HIsOH75X8NsogrIogFVOj-Xkms32obQ2M7CXel3hD6ESzwBOO0jIZuUU4Yt3Dfzs4AWfmwi8fngMOpcdU0r-cIEYJqWxb7IMMBbnxTX-E/s400/Spencer+school+pic+TU.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529109315103602866" border="0" />Spencer 15<br /></a>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-49285261449611539652010-10-12T17:00:00.000-07:002010-10-12T17:24:39.468-07:00So...my kids had been healthy all summer. ALL SUMMER! and then (buh buh bum) school starts...AND we have already had HFMD(hand foot and mouth disease) run through all 7 kids. Last week, as a matter of fact. Then Gabe came home, decided it was time to throw up, and did so. I have taken to huffing Lysol. Not literally... well sorta, I'm spraying so much of it that some inhalation is inevitable. I have also grown quite fond of Germ-X. I'm thinking of starting a new line of perfume called "Ed du School illness." In favorite fall scents like Germ-X & Lysol Citrus Meadows. <br />as I said before, my husband was out at work for a month last hitch. This meant that he was only home for 12 days. Not enough decompression time if you ask me. He went back today, so it's on my mind. I also had the pleasant opportunity of tearing a bit of cartilage in my right shoulder. This causes a fantastic sensation of pain and on occasion some numbness and aching throughout my arm. Overall it has been a great experience. Sleeping is a real treat, too. so much fun. (I'm trying to have a positive attitude, is it working?) ((forcing a smile)) ANYWAY...I 'spose I should get some pictures on here of my kids, since they're all about a year older now. I'll find some good ones a bit later...((still smiling))Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-76453417161349385982010-09-28T16:33:00.000-07:002010-09-28T17:01:36.056-07:00So my husband has been gone a WHOLE month and you think I would have taken time to write about something...I've been a little busy since he left. I started Sunshine Generation up here. Most of my time has been spent prepping for that, buying equipment (playing with equipment), and learning the songs a choreography that goes with it. I'm having a blast teaching, except for the fact that I have had to fire half of my own personal children after the first class. Methinks they're savages. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Anyhoodle</span>, my husband comes home tomorrow night. Sigh of relief. I sometimes feel like I am holding my breath until he comes home. Not always an utterly pleasant sensation, but after 4 years, I guess it's normal. <br />So along with Sunshine, I'm in the Primary Presidency again, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">doin</span>' P90X in the mornings and I'm singing again with the lovely group of ladies in the "Museum Singers" . Love it, love them. It's nice to be with grown ups and make some beautiful sound. Guess I'm busy. I miss art though. I miss the freedom that comes from creating something visual. If you're not an artist you probably don't get that. There is a mental escape that happens when I draw or paint. I get lost in my picture. I haven't been able to get lost for a long time. I have a room dedicated to art and craft stuff. It's the "craft" room...at least it's supposed to be the "craft" room, but to be honest it's the "crap" room. It's full of the catch all stuff that doesn't have a home yet. So no art or craft stuff is happening in the "crap" room. It will... eventually. Hopefully sooner than later. <br />The kids are all doing well in school. Even Spencer, (Holy Crap!) and it's about time for that. He's a good kid. Painfully smart to the point of being dumb sometimes. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Sariah</span> has all A's...except in math. That would be genetically my fault. Gabe is also doing well. He's peaceful to me right now. Caleb is...well Caleb and driving me CRAZY. Jacob is enjoying Kindergarten. It has helped him TONS, especially when it comes to sitting in Primary. Joey and Ellie are the only ones at home. There are even days when they don't try to kill each other. Joey goes to Kindergarten next year and then it will be just me and Ellie..........who knew it would go by this fast. Maybe then I'll organize the "crap" room...and draw pictures of the way "it" used to be.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-16514302953704635752010-08-07T19:17:00.000-07:002010-08-07T19:32:00.190-07:00An eternity on the throneBefore we went to Laramie, I made a quick trip to the grocery store to pick up some snacks. Spencer was still at Scout camp and so that left Sariah to hold down the fort for 15 minutes or so. When returned all the kids were contentedly watching movie downstairs...except one. I found Joey in the upstairs bathroom waiting for *help* so that he could get down. I asked him how long he had been up there waiting. In his saddest voice he flopped over and sighed, "Thirty Years!" <br />"Wow, buddy. That's a long time." Is all I could say. Then I turned and busted a gut laughing.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-5129603077655844212010-07-29T17:13:00.000-07:002010-07-29T18:02:08.454-07:00Packing the car for a trip is like checking out at the grocery store...all the stuff you took out never goes back in the same as it did the first time you put it there, be it the cart or your trunk.<br />So...I just got back from my hometown. I drove my 7 dwarfs 5 hours to visit my sister and niece who just moved up from Htown. We went with the element of surprise to help them and my sister's friend, that she managed to drag up North with her (we really like her, and actually I think she came for the Wyoming experience willingly) to help them move in. Some help we were. I went to visit an old friend in the AM and by the time we got there to help in the process, the 8 missionaries, that my mother had wrangled into helping, had the whole job finished in an hour. But, nonetheless, it was still good to go and visit. My children did pretty well for being crammed into my mothers tiny house, and for the fact that some of us had to sleep in a tent in the backyard. Yeah, that tiny. I eventually chose to be the one in the tent because it was so hot in the house. Thank goodness it cools down at night. I finally got used to sleeping outside, even though I was always a little aware and awake for most of the nights. The last night we were there Spencer and I were the only ones out in the tent. There was threat of thunderstorms but when we went to sleep the clouds were sparse and I chose to start the night with the rain flap off. Sometime during the early morning the wind picked up and the sprinkle started. I ignored it until I felt the little drops get through the tent. So I had to wake Spen up to help me get the rain flap back in place. Once done and back in bed I finally fell into a deep peaceful happy sleep listening to the sound of the rain hitting the tent. And good crap was I tired. Right when I was really starting to enjoy the land of good dreams, I heard a knock on the tent. It was my dad in his Eeyore voice, "Your mom says that you should wake up and look at this rainbow." Are you freaking kidding me? I obliged. and stuck my irritated head out the door of the tent and peeked around the corner to see...I wish I could say "the most spectacular sight in Heavenly space" but I can't...it was just a rainbow. and not that bright...(I guess I'm spoiled because when we get 'bows at my house across the field they are spectacular.) Did I get to fall back into that heavenly sleep? OF COURSE NOT... The only people who can probably appreciate this are those parents of multiple children that can count the nights of *super sleep* on one hand.<br />The overall trip was fine...not super. I'm sure that someday I will be able to count this as therapeutic. It was an emotionally multilayer-ed trip. Of which, I will not currently bore you with specific details. <br />I'm glad that Dawn and Sam and Jeanne live close enough to visit now. I'm glad that Jennifer and Bill have found a house (in my hometown, read into that what you will) to live in while they go to school. I'm glad that I have friends like Ben and Krista who are in the same phase of life that Jason and I are. I'm glad that the people who watched me grow up and struggle understand the real *why*, and I'm grateful that they can see how I turned out alright. I'm glad I don't live in the same house I grew up in. I'm grateful to have married the man I did, he definitely brought me *up*. Most importantly I'm glad to be home... and I'm glad we found that the dogs didn't die while we were gone, even though Lucky threw up about a pound of grass when we got here. Apparently he has separation anxiety.<br />that's all for now<br />good day to ya.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-60342082801974111732010-07-09T16:55:00.000-07:002010-07-14T19:21:48.503-07:00Holy UFO Batman!!!So... when we were in SLC, wandering about a mall with 10 of *someone else's children*, and 2 of our own, Sariah bought a copy of Twilight. She's a crazy avid reader and so I figured the time would come, sooner or later, for her interest to hit these books. I conceded and let her read it. I've already heard all the books on CD, so I knew there were a few "mature" ideas floating around quite prevalently throughout the series. Regardless, I let her read it and then let her buy the other 3. Then I started to read them. Way better in print!<br />Late one night,(late, late, one night around midnight, after all the kids had finished watching a movie and fallen asleep) I was reading and getting ready for bed at the same time. I had just finished reading the part of the 3rd book where Jasper is telling his story about the newborn vampires, when I opened the door of my bathroom that leads to my bedroom. I looked down to watch my step as I walked out and my eyes met Lucky's, (he's the old dog.) There was this crazy excitement in his eyes, the same look that you might get from a tired 90-year old man if you showed him a picture of a lady in a bathing suit. I hadn't seen that kind of sparkle in his eyes in a long time. This is where the chain reaction started to happen. All of the following occured in about 5 seconds but some very distinct things happened in this order: First; question in my head...why are you looking like that? Second; What is causing you to look like that?(side note... we have a moth problem here. Well, I guess it really isn't a problem. They just find ways to occasionally get in the house and fly around the lights. No biggie. So as Lucky is starring at me with this "guess what I just saw!" look, I saw something flutter by the door. let's go back to what was happening in my head.)<br />Third; Wow, that's a big moth! Fourth; (as it flew by again) that's the biggest moth I've ever...WAIT a minute...that's not a moth, (flies by again) that's a bird! (Flies by again) WAIT that's not a bird...THAT'S A BAT!!!! <span style="font-style: italic;">SLAM goes the bathroom door panicking ensues. Think, think, think... Grab towel... thinking that I can flutter at it and send it out the door.</span> Tip #1 Do not flutter a towel at a bat. They use echolocation to find where they are going and if you flap and flutter, they think you are either a threat or family and they will fly AT you. So there I was on the floor of the hallway, (we actually got out of my room), and I sent the dogs after it. The bat flew out to the living room and hung upside down off the popcorn ceiling, I kid you not. I was able to get a good look at it, from a distance mind you. It was the size of a medium sized Robin (that's a little funny) but it wasn't at the time, with its leathery wings wrapped around its body like a cocoon. It then flew back toward me and into the craft room. Its detour gave me the chance to shut the little boys room and all the other doors then run downstairs to retrieve the Boy Scout, Spencer. The conversation went like this, I said, "SPENCER, GET UP THERE'S A BAT IN THE HOUSE!" Spencer said, "cool."<br />We let the dogs outside. Boy Scout reminded me that there was a chance for the dogs to get bit and then that whole threat of possible rabies although statisically blah blah blah, thank you Spencer, how the crap are we going to get the BAT out of the house.<br />The next part of the story consists mostly of a lot screeching (my own), crawling around on the floor (me and Spencer), head covering (remember the towel), avoiding getting flown at, laughing (me and Spencer, mostly at each other, for crawling around on the floor and screeching),and Spencer saying "Holy Frack!" <br />We somehow managed to lure the bat out into the kitchen. We have fluorescent lights, I thought that maybe, just MAYBE, the bat might be attracted to the slight noise that comes from the lights. Maybe that wasn't the case, BUT, for whatever reason, the bat followed us out into the kitchen where we opened both sides of the french doors and waited while bat explored the kitchen and, what felt like, every area close to MY head. Eventually, the bat flew out the doors and we slammed them shut after it.<br />Needless to say Spencer and I were both a bit jumpy for the next couple of days. Any time a moth fluttered by, or a surround sound speaker (about the size of the bat) fell off the wall while we were watching a movie, we'd jump and have to fight the huge internal desire to hit the floor and screech, or throw out a "Holy Frack!"<br />Good day to yaNaomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-63016773110319277102010-07-08T10:38:00.000-07:002010-07-08T10:52:09.332-07:00Jason bought me a new computer. Well lets back up. My old computer broke. boring. So I have been borrowing a friends for the last 3 months. Nice friend, I know. Because of that I haven't been too thrilled about downloading pics and doing "<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">unnecessary</span>" tasks on hers. Blogging was, what I thought, an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">unnecessary</span> task. At least I thought that until my husband actually confessed that he missed my ramblings. How can I deny him the pleasure of reading my perspective of the chaos that is our life. Not to mention, now I have this nice new shiny computer, that he bought me, with which to ramble on. I will have to schedule time to blog, I s'pose. I may just trade my facebook time out for blogging. It's getting a little old over there in social land. So I'll get back to the good stuff. Me, my kids, and the occasional rant and random thought. So thank you, Jason, for the computer and for really paying attention to me, (when you're home) and this silly little blog, (when you're at work.) Love you.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-17904545492750127812009-12-28T09:22:00.000-08:002009-12-28T09:30:20.357-08:00New Christmas lyrics (by Jacob)Silent Night, O Holy Night<br />all is bright<br />all is calm<br />Gather 'round your Mergin<br />Mother and chite<br />Sweep in Heavenly peeaACCE<br />Sweep in Heavenly peace.<br /><br />You better watch out<br />You better not cry<br />You better not pout<br />Jesus is coming to town<br />He's making a list<br />He's checkin it twice<br />he's gunnda find out who's naughty or nice<br />Jesus is coming to town.<br /><br /><br />Jacob has been singing for weeks. Really loud. I'm actually amazed at how well and accurate he has been for the most part. The new version on Santa Claus is coming to town came out today, but he blamed it on his "transformer."Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-45275334942915018152009-12-08T11:30:00.000-08:002009-12-08T11:35:39.337-08:00Husband is home. I'm all better. Well mostly. He leaves to go back to work on the 23rd of December. This is the 3rd Christmas in a row that he has had to work. BUT we'll have him home next year. This is a good thing. <br />It's 7 degrees outside and it's snowing. There is a fire in the fireplace downstairs, Christmas music on and a beautiful tree decorated by the kids upstairs. The only thing missing is the minty hot chocolate. It really is a good, good day.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-11869211057139005852009-12-01T22:02:00.000-08:002009-12-01T22:12:46.326-08:00I don't have a whole lot to say. My kids have done some pretty feakin' funny stuff lately, but at the present my head is full of choir rehearsal crap and so I can't remember anything specific. I am super grateful to them for keeping it together when I'm still off my rocker. I am so blessed and I am so aware of those blessings, but I can't dump the funk. You know how every once in a while all the ducks in the pond (of your brain) are floating nicely, in a row. Then something comes along and eats one? That's where I am. It really isn't a big thing either. I think it is a bunch of little things gnawing away at the once happy, free floating duck. Whatever it was... I can't get the rest of my little ducks back in a row and I'm grieving. Angry or sad pick one...quickly because it will be the opposite in a minute.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-48878902339829504822009-11-29T20:03:00.000-08:002009-11-29T20:16:03.098-08:00the new flavorSo I guess I gotta watch my choice of words. Jacob and Joey were excused from the dinner table for trying to escape during prayer. The rule is: if you don't pray with the family, you don't eat with the family. This is a new rule that came about because of Jacob's earlier attempt to be sneaky and leave during the prayer and then come back thinking no one noticed he was gone. What I wouldn't give to be 4 again. The simplest things seem so entertaining. So tonight he and Joey both took off. What the heck? So it was into their beds until the rest of us were finished eating. After dinner I tried out my new blender by making some smoothies for dessert. When J & J were allowed to came back out to eat they, of course, were only interested in having a smoothie. Now after a long week of eating insane amounts of junk food I'm feeling guilty about how much crap these little kids are eating. I told those two that they couldn't eat *crap* until after they ate their veggies and meat. So then I had Joey whining that all he wanted was "crap". And Jacob piped up as he was shoving his mouth full of peas and corn "Joey, you have to eat this stuff first and then we can have some crap." I had to explain that the name of dessert was a *smoothie* and not actually *crap*. (sigh)Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-39020030292299422372009-11-28T20:17:00.000-08:002009-11-28T21:59:16.676-08:00Don't bother reading, it's not pleasantSo...I always start my blogs with "so" ever notice? I just did. So...I've been thinking. Why did I move? My reason (biggest excuse) was to come live up here with my BFf and write. Which we have done. And I have had some kick butt experiences that couldn't have happened if I still lived over there. The weather here is oddly amazing and seasonally appropriate. It's unlike any other place in Wyoming I've found. The wind rarely, if ever, blows here. The moisture content is higher here than say, Casper, (where we were for Thanksgiving) but we're not breathing water. Sidenote: Casper is the land of the never ending wind. I think they call Chicago the windy city just because there are more people there to complain about the wind. But I bet the stats would show that Casper is truly the windiest of the windy cities. <br />We haven't gotten crazy snow. Which I wouldn't mind more of to be honest. No tornado's, no hail, rarely a thunderstorm, nothing like Texas. The summer's not to hot. Winter is cold like it should be. Weather is perfect, if not a little boring.<br />I don't have to lock my doors. House or car. I do, but I don't have to. This place is safe.<br />I have music. I am singing in a 12 piece women's choir. They call us the ambassadors for the Washakie Museum. We meet once a week. That's it. And these women can sing. It's lovely. I don't even have to go searching for a group. They called me. <br />My grade school kids, that'd be Sariah, Gabe, and Caleb, are doing amazing. there might be 200 kids in the whole school. Sariah had read over 1million words by the beginning of the second quarter. Her teacher said he couldn't have asked for a better student. <br />Gabe's fine and Caleb is quiet.<br />Spencer's experience with school has been crap. It's always been rough. But it's been really rough here. It's just the homework. So we are thinking about doing home school with him. There is a virtual academy for Wyoming. It's like a public school curriculum online. We'll learn more about it when Jason gets home. And yes, the thought of this scares the hell out of me, but so does leaving him in a school system where their main goal is making sure he can get a *job* out of high school. Not a career, not into college, a JOB (freakin back water crack smokin...I'm hormonal, let me complain) they need to change their objectives and their dialog.<br />So here is where my issues start to arise. I can't get into all of the Spencer issues with school because that could take all night and they aren't the only things putting weight on my head right now. Long story short. He took the *MAP* test, like the TAKS, they are given a percentile score, you know the *if yer kid got a 50% he scored better than 50/100 kids that took the test nationwide.* Spencer scored the following: general science 98%; Math 69%; Science concepts 91%; Reading 98%; Language usage 90%. Yet he is failing most of his classes because he doesn't want to play the *game*...<br />So I wonder, was moving here good for Spencer? Could Sariah have accomplished more in a place with more to offer. I don't know how things could have been different for Gabe and Caleb. But I think that Caleb would be reading better had he started in Katy like Sariah and Gabe did.<br />One hand the kids are safe and doing the best with what they have. Other hand could they be doing more.<br />NEXT. Jennifer is moving. I know, I know I could feel the BOO HISS from the Texans reading this. And I will BOO HISS louder than anyone, and I'll through in a What the hell. Jason is mad because I say hell a lot now, that's Jennifer's fault, she started it. I say it quietly, and mostly under my breath but still...<br />anyway...explanation. Bill, the husband of my BFF, has until now not decided upon a career. They have been floating around with their flower shop for 7 years now. It's just not, and hasn't been, paying all the bills. We all know this can happen when you own your own business (wink, wink, nudge, nudge Pizza what?). So he *man*ed up right before we moved here and started working for a dentist while Jenn ran the shop. Long story short. Dentist convinced Bill to go to dental school. Become dentist and come back, work here(ug ug). Two years in Laramie to finish undergrad(he's my age) then 4 years at a dental school somewhere. Good for him for deciding. Bad for me because it actually affects my family. I'm so bitter about this whole thing that I could just spit venom. He's supposedly leaving Jennifer here with the kids for another 10 months, so that she can attempt to sell/work the store. I don't think it'll be that long. I think they'll walk and that'll will shorten my time with my friend and the reason I moved to this particular little smelly town. Selfish or not I'm mad.<br />I have found a handful of people that I like in this little town. Kudos to them.<br />HOWEVER...At church I feel like a three ring circus act, either that or a car wreck. I feel like I'm being watched. I only like being watched when I'm on stage. Otherwise just let me have moments of weakness by myself so I can figure them out and then I'll put on the *perfect* face again. You don't get moments of weakness in a small town, if you do it's what defines you. In Texas I could go for a week and not see anyone, fall apart completely, twice even, and then pull it together before I had to see anyone. <br />Then there's the shopping...lack of shopping. Over priced, under quality shopping. That is all I will say about that, cause every time I go to the grocery store here I get angry and thinking about it makes me grumpy.<br />Bottom line...I wasn't happy in Texas for all the reasons that I am happy here, and I'm not happy here for all the reasons I was happy in Texas. SO if I could take all the people that I loved from down there and move them up here and if y'all brought a Walmart and HEB, and some geckos and frogs and a High School that didn't have a principal that taught math in MY high school from'87 to my graduating year of '93, not kidding, it was like walking in to a time warp, And if you could bring a dental school with you so that my bff's husband could get a stoopid career, then I might be perfectly content. Or if my husband, who is my bff #1, could get a high (enough) paying job, that would keep him home every night, I think that would make everything else null and void...since that probably won't happen here...<br />The bottom of the bottom line...I may not be happy anywhere, pathetic isn't it. I know, I know happiness is what you make it. <br /><br />I am thankful and grateful and extremely blessed. I never doubt that, but there are days when the down of the down gets me and I shouldn't talk to people. That would be today, I'll be better tomorrow, wait tomorrow is Sunday. I'll be better on Monday, wait lets try Thursday, I like Thursdays. Thursday's are my favorite.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-56688578349135378782009-11-24T06:48:00.000-08:002009-11-24T07:18:09.823-08:00When a long day gets longerSo my husband was a little disappointed that I haven't updated my blog. This touched me a little (in the head) and reminded me why I started the blog in the first place.<br />I woke up the other morning at the typical 6:something so I could chase Spencer out the door in time for seminary and then get the other 3 up and dressed and fed before the bus arrived at 7:25. When I get up in the AM it would be TOTALLY less stressful if Jacob and Joey stayed asleep at least until the big kids made it out the door. Having been a mother of 5 previous *3 year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">olds</span>* I know better. The 3<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">yo's</span> are the ones that are last to bed and first to rise. Jacob successfully passed along the torch a few months ago. So now instead of his face being the first and last one I see, it's Joey's little mug. Jacob now sleeps-in, almost always, until Spencer leaves at 6:45. The frustrating thing is that there are just two more little loud bouncy things around my ankles while I'm dragging the *I'll sleep-in as late as I can, except on Saturdays, and twice as long on Sundays* group out of bed. How does the baby sleep? She'd sleep until 11am if I let her. To be honest, sometimes I do let her.<br />Sometimes I'll go back to bed for a nap, while J & J watch Dora and Diego.<br />One morning I stayed up. I got those who needed to go to school on their way, the baby out of bed and everybody else fed some toast with peanut butter. I started in on dishes and other things while the little kids played. I answered emails and the phone and took a shower and came out to the hungry monkeys, so I decided to fix lunch. I made <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Campbell's</span> soup with Goldfish noodles and grilled cheese sandwiches. Then I looked at the clock. It was 9:09am. Seriously? I was making "lunch" at NINE O'clock in the morning.? At that rate dinner would have been at 3 and we would have been in bed by the time the kids got off the bus from school.<br /><br />good day to ya.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-46929633046475175702009-10-18T17:36:00.000-07:002009-10-18T17:50:32.859-07:00Ellie's 2nd BirthdaySo the baby turned 2...Waaahhhhh...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdFy3c2hQXBgrhZgLW-ZicbhPCO9KztNpkM92jDtJwZkwB8S0GeigbTHvo-3Bn1Pcg0atyu8uharsTUylPCMcpLsDDzJemwYDYGT5_tdN0GveFJ4eeuBAvCpNpMaH4AMvaGnrD0C3bQrS/s1600-h/Copy+%282%29+of+PA180131.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdFy3c2hQXBgrhZgLW-ZicbhPCO9KztNpkM92jDtJwZkwB8S0GeigbTHvo-3Bn1Pcg0atyu8uharsTUylPCMcpLsDDzJemwYDYGT5_tdN0GveFJ4eeuBAvCpNpMaH4AMvaGnrD0C3bQrS/s400/Copy+%282%29+of+PA180131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394105463247081234" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Or was it 16?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsBiAODIis_yIx2rx0zEkrHcbigEFrquXbo8Vy1oyqJGW8dTWeZL3AJY4smVoeoq11uylT4euqEhyARfvrkP8dQnmDqQZ4Ntm3duunNO1vVMmeXHsyRXCLLJ9S0tL-oLkwn1hohCWZREu/s1600-h/PA180201.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlsBiAODIis_yIx2rx0zEkrHcbigEFrquXbo8Vy1oyqJGW8dTWeZL3AJY4smVoeoq11uylT4euqEhyARfvrkP8dQnmDqQZ4Ntm3duunNO1vVMmeXHsyRXCLLJ9S0tL-oLkwn1hohCWZREu/s400/PA180201.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394105468605700082" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My two Princesses <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvk2ovzlQ4Ho2eRPC1791ZKMq-fFccZset87clZIJXUvLd6RBy17RgwsK8sm67_ax1wBnbvi8Na6XeN7mvTqLaSy4gB8XEgHZ5xH5nCpUe3Cf6y3vYw0IR9JRPuWBUElnp6s90YiWUiouH/s1600-h/PA180229.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvk2ovzlQ4Ho2eRPC1791ZKMq-fFccZset87clZIJXUvLd6RBy17RgwsK8sm67_ax1wBnbvi8Na6XeN7mvTqLaSy4gB8XEgHZ5xH5nCpUe3Cf6y3vYw0IR9JRPuWBUElnp6s90YiWUiouH/s400/PA180229.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394105477856127586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The Castle cake... we kept laughing 'cause it looked more like a pink temple. I wouldn't let Spencer make and Angel Moroni to put on top though<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLrg_idGicxhlDUqLseMvTrADXYgcsjGtngACaId1iNEVAig5sUo3jo8Lr7ix9Ksaf_nRtGiyRkmzzRMeTH-YFj3ZP7Z7y-zzI6ZAegvuOLTmMtJLwZyGrn1dwEAcToCllXp6h0jHfIxl/s1600-h/Copy+%282%29+of+PA180119.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBLrg_idGicxhlDUqLseMvTrADXYgcsjGtngACaId1iNEVAig5sUo3jo8Lr7ix9Ksaf_nRtGiyRkmzzRMeTH-YFj3ZP7Z7y-zzI6ZAegvuOLTmMtJLwZyGrn1dwEAcToCllXp6h0jHfIxl/s400/Copy+%282%29+of+PA180119.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394105453809906674" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We should have waited to give her the Princess cell phone... She refused to put it down. She loves it and her baby.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuIDTiFlt2GqIpsGne2EhlV-uWju5-QPQGQLPgEr2hRIL87XiGaInWdjZiThFxhXcr-2uwqAsXPMRacs2tQxWOQpa1LUOGlyMXdXE58fFFjn_eTbGeB2tUivwrdJ85BNHvoiMD0bitSkL7/s1600-h/PA180286.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuIDTiFlt2GqIpsGne2EhlV-uWju5-QPQGQLPgEr2hRIL87XiGaInWdjZiThFxhXcr-2uwqAsXPMRacs2tQxWOQpa1LUOGlyMXdXE58fFFjn_eTbGeB2tUivwrdJ85BNHvoiMD0bitSkL7/s400/PA180286.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394105485886283010" border="0" /></a><div><embed src="http://widget-cf.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&il=1&channel=3098476543664531407&site=widget-cf.slide.com" style="width: 400px; height: 320px;" name="flashticker" align="middle"></embed><div style="width: 400px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&at=un&id=3098476543664531407&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-cf.slide.com/p1/3098476543664531407/bb_t041_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&at=un&id=3098476543664531407&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-cf.slide.com/p2/3098476543664531407/bb_t041_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&at=un&id=3098476543664531407&map=F" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-cf.slide.com/p4/3098476543664531407/bb_t041_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" ismap="ismap" border="0" /></a></div></div>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-28198709485716482122009-10-06T14:50:00.000-07:002009-10-06T15:02:21.188-07:00I always have intentions for finishing my stories. Sometimes my life and lack of motivation runs away with me and it takes forever to get back to the blogging world. It's usually when I am frustrated and needing a creative out put that extends past the Facebook one liner. <br />My frustrations, today, are with food. I have desire to plan and carry out an EASY menu that will feed 7 hungry kids and not cost a million dollars at the already over priced grocery store, and not throw a kink in the line. So if any of you have any bright and tested ideas, let me know. I felt like being a more creative, but now I'm irritated because the oldest genius forgot he had detention after school today, due to being tardy. so I'm going to go be frustrated for a minute and then let the natural consequences fly.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-5191494153346443082009-08-25T18:06:00.000-07:002009-08-26T07:39:49.713-07:00Then what happened?OK, so I said that wasn't the end. After Gabe changed, we went in to do some more clothes shopping at Kmart, remember I had already been in there once. This went off fairly well. Most everything we found fit. Gabe and Caleb would stand in the changing room and I would throw clothes in to them to try on. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Sariah</span> was a little more difficult. She's still tiny. but VERY particular about how things "feel". So it took her longer to find and try things. Spencer was bored. we had previously done shopping for him, so he was basically along for the ride, and to buy his gear for his welding class. Which, by the way, we found NONE of while there or at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Walmart</span>, so Spencer's presence is now that of an annoyed annoying teenager. Like a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">poky</span> sliver in the bottom of your foot. So that's what his classification is for the rest of the story, the sliver. Now, he can't just bother me. He has to antagonize everyone, and so the energy of the trip has just gone from "we can get past the puke, " to "Are you kidding me?" And then at the check out line, it happened again, I spend money and get ill. I just don't like the feeling. and it wasn't over. <br />We finished Kmart and went and got lunch at Wendy's. I was skeptical, but Gabe said he really was fine, so whatever. Then we headed across the street to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Walmart</span> and shopped there. We had to get a lot of nonfood things, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">TP</span>, PT, laundry stuff, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">et</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">cetera</span>. And we found <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Sariah</span> another pair of jeans that needed to be tried on. I've learned my lesson, she must choose her own stuff now, and try everything on. After all that and a couple trips to the bathroom, for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">everyone</span>, we headed to the food section to take care of the main reason we were there. After a few minutes of grabbing things that we needed, I realized that I needed to go to the bathroom. Here is why...I hadn't been paying close enough attention to the *time of month* and so when you feel that familiar...Oh crap, things need to be attended to. So here I am in the bathroom at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Walmart</span> with no purse, no coins, no feminine <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">hygiene</span> things. What choices do I have? Toilet paper. I don't think I need to go into anymore detail about this. I went out with a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">quasi</span> positive mood that I would be able to finish shopping. When I got out to where I left the kids, they were fighting about what 100 calorie cookie packs they wanted for their lunches. Sorry, those cute little packages might be nice when you live alone, but trying to feed 7 kids lunch everyday? they just aren't economical. That was the last silly little straw. Plus I needed to go to other side of the store to pick up some *girl* stuff. This confused everyone. So While they waited I also bought some bubble bath, so I didn't have to have the *talk* with my 4 oldest children on the way home. After we checked out, spending more money than I have at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Walmart</span>, (other than buying our TV) since Christmas, I mentioned to Spencer that I needed to go back to the restroom. "But, you just went?!" said the sliver. (Bite me,) I'll be right back. We loaded up the puked on Suburban and drove home. But that's not all...there is still what happened at home... and on Sunday.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-91117984039979314692009-08-23T20:03:00.000-07:002009-08-23T21:16:05.722-07:00Something to blog aboutSo I have learned when ordinary mundane tasks take a twist to the difficult, do to whatever circumstances, good stories are born and there is finally something to blog about. I have said and I quote myself... Good art comes from weak hearts. This applies to all sorts of things. It just adds to the idea of *opposition in all things*... makes everything a lot funnier. So here we go with my two days direct from the funnier side of Hell.<br />It all started when Caleb, the new 1st grader, walked out of his room dressed for the first day of school. His jeans were too short and there were little holes in both knees. And then when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Sariah</span>, the new 5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> grader, came out dressed for the 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">nd</span> day of school in the same pair of ratty jeans she wore the first day. She complained that "nothing fits" when told to go change (because she looked like a hobo.) I don't have anything, in particular, against hobo's. As long as my children don't accept their *forced* sense of fashion for their own. I came quickly to the conclusion that my children needed new clothes. This required a trip to the nearest <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Walmart</span>. Which happens to be in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Riverton</span>, a nice hour and 20 minute jaunt down the highway. The soonest this could happen was Saturday. I asked my friend to keep the 3 youngest kids. While I understand the insanity of taking any children shopping wherever there are fluorescent lights involved (I'm telling you there is a connection in crazy behavior in children and the lighting in the stores), I am not stupid enough to shove them all in a hot car (the AC isn't working quite right) and then shop with them for clothes, let alone food. We are attempting the cold lunch approach this year. So we needed to get groceries at a cheaper location, which is NOWHERE in this town. So our Saturday started out with the goal of accomplishing two things, buy clothes, so they're not naked. And buy food so the lunches don't totally suck. <br />In the car on the way we listened to "Eclipse" the 3rd book in the Twilight series. Interesting, I'm not sure still how I feel about these books, but that's another post altogether. I sped a little which I rarely if ever do. The most I go is 5 over the speed limit. But even that much with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">windy</span> mountain roads can make a warm car ride even bumpier or more sway-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">ier</span>, add WY wind and you get the PERFECT ingredients for car sickness. I should know, I used to puke on every car trip, just ask my sister. Everything was fine until we were maybe 5 miles outside Riverton<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"></span>, if that. Gabriel says from the middle seat, "I think I'm going to be sick." I wasn't quite sure how to process this information. I had dealt with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Sariah</span> saying that most of the trip just so she could have her window down. So I suggested that he move over to the window and get some air. I would have pulled over but we had been stuck between two trucks for a while and there was no real place to do it. I yelled for Spencer to find a trash bag, we had nothing in the car. Come on, we always have some sort of trash bag in the car, we have melted crayons... and an old cheeseburger, why not a stupid trash bag. I looked back at Gabe in hopes that he could understand that we were super close and if he could just hold... oh never mind. By the time I had even registered anything, he had already puked out the window. Now in the land where the *handbook to life* is handed out when you're born, you get to learn directly from its pages making some of life's experiences easier. But since we don't live there, we have to learn some things by trial and oops. For example, in the *handbook to life* under the chapter titled "Things NOT to do" you would find suggestions such as; "Pee on a flat rock" or "Teach your baby sister to bite" or "Puke out the window, going 65mph... into the wind." Gabriel got to learn this one on his own. <br />After I realized that it had already happened we pulled into the Kmart parking lot, (It was across the street from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Walmart</span>. (I thought it might be a nice change for clothes shopping.) to asses full damages. Gabe had tried to get most of the puke off his face using the half dried baby wipes that were in the car. I looked at his shirt trying to decide if we could get away with taking him inside. Oh, I didn't mention the chocolate cream pie that he had for breakfast. Right do the visual math. Anyway the decision was made that I needed to go buy him some new clothes and have him change. I got out and then saw the side of the vehicle. All I could do was laugh and think about the truck driving behind us, it had to have gotten hit. (that's mean, I know) I went in the store, found him a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Tshirt</span> and pair of shorts and some wet baby wipes. Then went back out. While he changed, I tried to wipe down the side of the suburban with the baby wipes. So instead of chocolate vomit splattered, I mean SPLATTERED all across the truck, we now had whitish smeary chocolate puke swirls all across the truck. And this was NOT all that day. but that is all I have time to type right now. Spencer starts seminary tomorrow morning and that means I have to get up early so I can make sure he catches his ride. but I will continue tomorrow with the rest of what happened, because that was all before noon. Oh and then there was today...Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-33794597311005924702009-08-20T17:04:00.000-07:002009-08-20T17:29:48.889-07:00I take it all back. Well not the lamentation of Spencer being in H.S. but apparently he did fairly well today...but girls talked to him...I leave that alone for now. It WAS quieter. In my head it was a LOT quieter. I only had to think for 4 people today, instead of 8. And one of those 4 doesn't even really talk yet, and she took a nap. I did laundry ALL day. which is insane because my husband had it mostly caught up before he left. "Laundry is my friend, laundry is my friend," I keep trying, but it's not working. but, When I get to those stupid white socks...arrgh. When Jason comes home the *sock box* goes out the window. So I thought I would match them up fold them. poke my eyes out. It really wasn't too bad. I need to finish the kitchen. We started a remodel quite a while ago. It really started rolling 6 weeks ago. We just tiled our counters. I have to seal the grout, add the back splash, paint and put everything back together. It's a pain in the tuckus (how do you spell that, is it really a word?it is google is a wonderful thing. alternate spelling to the yiddish word *tuches*) to function around a *nonfunctional* kitchen. I saw one episode of that "Jon & Kate+8" show where they were redoing a perfectly good kitchen. I couldn't believe the whining. "This doesn't work because of blah, blah, blah, poor me wah" I couldn't believe it. I couldn't stand it. Maybe the show was deserving of air time when the kids were littler, it may have been neat to see two people working together to raise all those babies. But did they do it alone? I never watched it. but if you have nanny's and nurses, I think you lose a lot of the "WOW" factor. and then add money, plastic surgery, fame and lameness, I think the show should go away and these "normal" people should learn what real life is all about. And on that strange tangent...I will say no more about something that does not deserve my attention. I now need to focus on my seven, one of which is talking endlessly to me, about? I don't know what. and one that is screaming "MOMMY" because he needs his hiney wiped. The *poop ninja* is on duty. And so I will leave you with that weird post to do with as you will.<br />good day to yaNaomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3151395553405955783.post-22931061587749347962009-08-19T21:00:00.000-07:002009-08-19T21:27:37.556-07:00I never thought that getting child #1 ready for the first day of high school would cause such mental anguish. It's worse than sending one to Kindergarten. With Kindergarten, there is a sense of accomplishment, a sense of "Wow, look at us...one more through the door. And they're potty trained!" But with a high-schooler, it's more like "Aww hell...there goes the last chance for his poor innocent brain." Oh, and the torment and concern for the effect that *other peoples* children may have on them. So we pray, and learn another little lesson from God. Lessons that you can only learn as a parent. I've gotten a lot of those.<br />So tomorrow is the first day of school. Early, I know. And I'm torn, in general, about the whole thing. Some may say it's good to have the kids in school, it makes life at home easier. I'm not sure about that. I still have 5,6 & 7 at home. I can't peacefully leave the house till 1-4 are home. Maybe I'll get more *home-work* accomplished...wish me luck with that one. We'll have to see how it all goes tomorrow. Why the heck would anyone start school on a Thursday? Why not wait until Monday? Are they trying to ease us into a full week? Giving us a sample of how it's going to be to get 4 (not always cheerful and compliant) kids up and ready for school while either praying that the other 3 stay sleeping (fat chance) so they don't bawl about it not being their turn to go to school.<br />Actually I think all will run swimmingly. I wish that my husband could have gone to work the day after the first day of school and not the day prior. Ah well. No matter.<br /><br />so all I have to say in remembrance of tradition in this family is..."First Day of School, First Day of School, BOOGER." that's really a funny story, but you'd have to know Gabriel to find its true humor<br />Good day to ya.Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09355931713692315511noreply@blogger.com3