A Bee in my Bonnet

This past week I've had several "bee in my bonnet" episodes.  It started with painting both of the bedrooms my children use.  First, they had to be shoveled out and fumigated.  I don't know how two young children can create so much garbage!  Of course the majority of it was paper.  I think our elementary school has single-handedly killed off a forest with the number of notes that come home.  But, after several days of sleeping in the family room, Abbie and Nigel have finally returned to their bedrooms.  Of course cleaner and better painted than before.  I am thrilled with how the rooms turned out, and both children are excited to have a sense of "owness" that wasn't there before.  I will not make too much of a commentary as to the wall of the bedrooms before.  Everyone has an individual style and I can't judge, but only say it wasn't mine.  I just feel badly about taking so long to get around to doing the job.

"Before" pictures only--will have "after" pictures later.

Next up, my sister-in-law Becky and I had a sewing weekend.  We accomplished quite a bit and completed 7 rag quilts with four more designed and ready to be sewn.  We make a pretty good team as she designs and I sew.  Hopefully she can sell them and we can get more done soon!

Lastly, today I decided it was time to change up the ol' blog.  I tried my hand at designing a header and what-not.  I'm not sure I like it, but thought it was time for a change.  Perhaps it is just a learning experience that will morph into something else in time.

So much has happened over the past few weeks, as we rush to and fro, that time seems to drift between cracks in my sanity.  The next thing I will know, the school year will be done, summer time activities will be in full swing, and I will be wondering where January went.  At least one thing is for certain, I accomplished quite a bit during the month, even if my dishes don't get done!

It's Snowing

It is snowing today, although it did start out as rain.  I think that fall is turning into winter quickly, and I'm not sure I'm ready.  We did get Nige a new coat over the weekend, as he is growing by leaps and bounds.  Just in the nick of time, I'd say.  I've been watching the flakes fall outside my office window, with my space heater cranked up to dry my tootsies.

While we are embarking on the Holiday season of Thanks and Giving, I thought I would share our Halloween memories from this year. Another wet day, but it was fun nonetheless.  My Indy and mad scientist had a blast, until they were too wet to keep going.

Nigel as Indiana Jones

They are getting too big!

All the ratting and spraying of her hair was a chore.  It was awesome for about 20 minutes though.

Abbie and her science experiment and Nige freaking out about a possible explosion.

As we continue in our crazy, out of control life, my days flow into one another, and before I know it, Christmas will have come and gone.  Oh to slow the hands of the clock and enjoy the moments before they are gone forever.

It's Unlawful to Feed Alligators

The best sign of the trip!

There are days when something will spur a memory.  It could be a smell, a sight, an address, a song.  The list goes on and on.  Perhaps it is the sight of a burnished autumn leaf, gently falling to the ground against the brilliant blue of the sky that takes you back to time when piles of leaves beckoned to be jumped in.

It hit me today as I opened a fax at work.  It came from Fort Benning in Georgia and I was suddenly transported back to a trip my family took in September of 2007.  It was the first plane ride for my youngest, and probably the first my daughter will remember.  The air was humid, hot, and we were tired from the red eye.  Something as small as the address on a fax cover sheet had the power to bring back delightful memories and twinges of sadness for me, of a trip we took years ago.

This is Nigel's reaction when the plane started to take off!

Abbie is old hat at this!

There is a certain smell, chemical in nature that hits me occasionally reminding me of time spent in cold concrete houses, space heaters, and thick wool sweaters. The smell comes from propane tanks, and though here, more than a decade later, I rarely smell it in my everyday existence, I will find my memories taking me to a mildewed heaven where I learned more about myself than at any other time in my life.  I will taste ravioli and white sauce, a milenesa breaded to perfection and my soul years for those dear friends I have lost touch with over the years, all because of a smell.

A song from the late ‘80s, early 90’s will strike discord in my heart.  It reminds me of times when choices and associations weren’t always the best and I wonder how I made it through largely unscathed.  Other songs bring with them nights of giggles, shopping cart races, band trips, and newspaper parties.

When Daniel and I married, the reception center was interested in a sensory experience.  Fresh flowers adorned the tables, with lavender and tiny orchids to evoke a scent that would remind those in attendance of our nuptials when those scents wafted to their noses in the months that followed.  I don’t know how well it worked for those well wishers, but for me, I see lavender and I smile.  I want to grow bushes of lavender in my yard because it reminds me of love, or at least the day when I felt as though I could burst with it.

We are a sensory people.  We like to touch, smell, taste, hear.  The sight of freshly fallen snow and the aching quiet that seems to echo along the street are sensations I look forward to ever winter.  The twinkle of Christmas lights against the black night, or orange gourds and autumnal leaves are sure signs of an impending holiday.  Add to that, the scent of freshly baked pumpkin pie, or the steam rising off a batch of rolls, and my stomach starts to grumble at the thought of a Thanksgiving feast to match all my wildest fantasies.

My children take after their father.  They are touchy people, snuggling, kissing, hugging, touching.  They aren’t quite as happy as they could be unless they are touching someone.  Last night, my little guy came into my room, crawled in bed with me and stuck his cold feet on my legs.  When I asked why he wasn’t ensconced in his own bed, I could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “You’re warmer!”  I became a mommy sandwich for a bit, touched on both sides and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Where would we be without our sensory memories?  I am sure I would forget a few of those friends, or moments in my life if there weren’t something there to job me to a certain place and time.  Perhaps tomorrow, I will see the address of someone who will transport me back to Uruguay, or a candle that will indeed spark the holiday season in my heart.  I can’t wait!

03-03-03

Seven years ago, at this very moment, I was giving birth to my little guy.  Daniel tried to talk me into holding out for a 3:00 pm birth to go along with my 03-03-03 motif.  I was not amused.  Of course, like he's come to show, Nemmett's birth was an indication of how he was going to be.  It started out, us starting labor via the pit-drip, like I have always had to do, forcing the kid along.  Of course, once it started, he took over and decided to come at his own, quick pace.  Just like getting him up in the morning...it is pulling teeth, until he decides he is ready, and bam, he is ready to go.

This morning while I was in the living room, I heard Daniel retell the story of our son's birth.  I had to smile when he told Nigel that Mommy was really unsure of having a boy, but it only took one look for me to fall in love.

I am amazed at how fast the time has flown.  Many people have told me to treasure these years because they fly away too fast.  I am wont to agree.  Wasn't it yesterday that he was smiling at me with his big toothless grin, milk dripping down his chin while I nursed him?  I think that his milestones come and go at a faster clip than those of his older sister.  Partly because I've experienced them before, partly because I dread the fact I won't experience them again.

I've enjoyed the journey so far, and can't wait to see what is next with this little man.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!

We All Need A Little Zeke in Our Lives

I believe we all need a little Zeke in our lives.  You see, my son, has a stuffed monkey affectionately known as Zeke, who has made the rounds of life with him for the past few years.  He sits patiently in a backpack as he is lugged to and from Grandma’s house, or is used as a missile to decimate the mounds of Lego blocks on the floor.  His fur is matted and worn but he still holds a place of honor on my son’s bed.

Last night, as I tucked my son into bed, we had a conversation about night lights and how he needed his bedroom light on, all night long, to combat the storm troopers who were sure to invade his dreams.  His big brown eyes looked up at me, wide with fear, and with the utmost seriousness, he told me Heavenly Father never answered his prayers to keep them away.  I think we may have to limit the Wii Lego Star Wars games he is playing before bed.   

After some cuddling and kisses, I handed him Zeke.   He automatically turned into the warm fur, which has its own special scent of being well loved and handled.  A couple hours later, I headed to bed, and found him, still clutching his monkey with the same amount of fierceness as when I kissed him goodnight.  His prayers had been answered, although without the words his childlike understanding expected.  He had his protector and friend there next to him, all through the dark hours, to give him comfort when he needed it most.

A couple of days ago, I caught Nigel playing on the computer, a kitchen chair pulled up next to the office chair he was sitting in.  Zeke had his own place on the kitchen chair, faced towards the monitor, for a front row view of the games PBS Kids had to offer.  Things like this happen on a regular basis with the monkey.  In ways, I wonder if Zeke has taught my child things like caring for another.  There are days I’m sure he would trade his sister in for a family that only included him and Zeke, but I’m sure deep down he appreciates and cares for her as much as the inanimate monkey who haunts us all.

I kick myself for not buying a back-up monkey all those years ago when we made our way to Build A Bear Workshop and Zeke came to life.  The monkeys on the shelves there aren’t the same these days, aren’t as cute, nor do they have the same emotional pull.  I’ve been trolling e-bay to find another, just in case, or perhaps because Zeke will need a friend at some point.

Zeke has spent a time or two at Grandma’s house for some impromptu surgery has a seam has split and needed repair.  His bath in my washing machine with the towels leaves him smelling fresh, but still well loved and matted.   I worry for the day when Zeke isn’t repairable, and will be relegated to the shelves to be looked at, or in my cedar chest to save for a day when Nigel will reminisce about his childhood.  I also worry for the day when he outgrows the need for Zeke.  It won’t be long.  He is already embarrassed to have me kiss him in front of his friends, although he will usually give me an extra long hug.  Will that mean he has outgrown the need for me as well?

Last night, watching the comfort Zeke gave to Nigel, I had to realize that Zeke was an answer to more than Nigel’s prayers; he was an answer to mine.  When I couldn’t take away the fear, there was something tangible for him to hold onto.  I wish on those really hard days, all it would take is a hug from a monkey to make me feel better.  For now, I will take comfort in the fact that for a short time, he will mean the world to a little boy.  And I’ll still scour e-bay, just in case.

Hard Headed Catastrophes

Yesterday, I received a call from a number that makes a mother’s blood run cold and sweat bead on the forehead, just by looking at the number.  It was the dreaded Elementary School.  Nothing good comes from a phone call in the middle of the day from an elementary school.  I’ve determined that it either means your child is misbehaving, to the point that they are uncontrollable, or they are dying.  See, nothing good.  Imagine what was running through my mind yesterday as I reached for the phone….Nigel, lying in a pool of his own blood, body broken and awkwardly positioned on the playground, playground duty volunteers meandering slowly as they debate whether or not to call me…he generally doesn’t act out at school.  I was pretty upset when I heard the school secretary tell me that he had bumped his head and needed to go home, because you can’t be too careful with head wounds.

Head wounds.  Really?  I’m pretty calm usually when it comes to the catastrophes that involve Nigel.  I didn’t freak out when at 8 months old he crawled around, found a can of oil based, rust resistant black paint, opened it and played in it; nor did I freak out when at age three he climbed to the top of my refrigerator, using the handles and leverage, although I was shaking and crying inside.   I was nervous driving to the school, but figured that they were exaggerating the problem, much like they have done in the past.  Isn’t that a bit contradictory to my statement about reasons they call?  Welcome to my Elementary School.  Yeah, they are like that.

Picking up Nigel from school was a shock.  My child was deformed.  He had a goose egg about the size of a golf ball protruding from the left side of his forehead.  He was quite and subdued, another worrisome sign.  We went home, iced the bump and watched cartoon movies all afternoon.  I could tell his head hurt, because he didn’t mind taking some pain medicine and he was happy to lie on the couch and vegetate to the sounds of Peter Pan and Toy Story 2.

Here comes the shocker, literally.  So I decided to be a good mommy and bake cookies.  The boy needed a treat for being so brave.  While I was doing that, Nigel ventured into his room to play.  The pain medication was working and he was ready for some Lego time.  A few minutes later, he came into the kitchen, shaking like a leaf.  The kid had decided to do a little arc welding with the nightlight, his sister’s metal bracelet and the wall socket.  Yeah, that went over really well.  He was certain that he hadn’t been shocked, but did admit to being “bitten” while doing this.  Yep, he tripped the circuit and I am now certain the kid has a death wish.  First a good bump on the noggin and then a little electrical shock treatment.  Really….I’m not sure my heart can take all the mommy-stress.

So, my kid is one of cutest things I’ve ever seen.  He can snuggle and kiss me, make me laugh my hind end off, say the darndest things, and still give me heart palpitations.  He brings an enormous amount of hilarity and love to my life, and now I wish I had a picture, much like the black paint, to blackmail him with when he turns 18…because really, isn’t that what a mother lives for?  The chance to get even for all the heart attacks her son causes?  It’s the only thing that is getting me through this particular incident!
*Thanks to Google for the image*

I feel kind of bad, that I'm posting all my trials with my six year old, and haven't posted much about Abbie. Perhaps I will tell a tale about her tomorrow. But for now, here is how my afternoon went with my son:

While doing homework today, Nigel had to draw a picture of his house and write his address. After drawing a bird's eye view of our yard and house, he supposed to write his address. Here is how the conversation started.

Mom: Do you know your address?

Nigel: Yes.

Mom: Write the numbers, # and #.

Nigel: Okay.

Mom: Now 'North'

Nigel: That isn't how it goes.

Mom: That is our address.

Nigel: That isn't the correct way! My teacher won't understand it!

Mom: That is our address though.

Nigel: I want a different address. I don't like that one! I want my very own. I don't want yours! I want my very own.

This of course went with screaming, crying, throwing the pencil across the room, and hugh alligator tears streaming down his face. I sent him to his room for a little time out, but that didn't even seem to calm him down. We talked for quite a while about his anger management issues, but it didn't seem to work until I left him alone for to think about things for a while.

I suppose I should be grateful that he has such a strong sense of self. He will no doubt give me a run for his money as he gets older. Oh well. I surely love him! He is such a doll when he doesn't have a melt down.

Need to be a better mother

If I could only bottle the stubbornness of my second child; I could inject him with it at the age of 12 to stand strong against peer pressure.

The other morning was a difficult one and I left for work chastising myself, feeling like I was a terrible mother, and wondering if I should just drive off and never return.

It all started with a fight about socks. Yes. Socks. Nige didn't want to wear the socks that were in his drawer. Then, after finding something he would wear, there was the fight over snow boots and tennis shoes, with him flinging whatever he was wearing across his bedroom. After a lot of quietly informing him of the unacceptability of his actions, I got to point that I just couldn't take it any more. I yelled. Yes, I yelled. Looking at the sweet face above, I have a hard time believing that I could even look at the kid cross-eyed, let alone yell. But I did. It wasn't pretty. In the throes of a temper tantrum, tears and sobs included, I was yelling at him. I just made him cry harder. The kid couldn't be persuaded to do anything he wasn't willing to do.

After taking him to the sitter's house, and spending at least 5 minutes talking to him about going in, and his pleas of asking to be taken to work with me, I left for work, tears streaming down my face. Nigel is six. He is too young to know what buttons to push on me isn't he? Or has he some devious idea of how much this tore my heart into tiny pieces? I was betting on the second option that morning.

I've tried to narrow down what causes the cataclysmic meltdowns on this kid. There doesn't seem to by any rhyme or reason, but they just come and devastate me all the same. This morning it is all about taking a bath and getting ready for the Primary activity in an hour. Not to mention eating a cold piece of Ghiradelli pizza from Pier 49 that has been in the fridge overnight. Sorry kid, mom gets to win on that one hands down, no amount of tears will sway me!

So, after all of that, I just sit back and wonder how I can be a better mother to this kid. How come he is just so darn stubborn and no amount of cajoling and threats seem to make him do anything he doesn't want to? I suppose his spirit is just some sort of super spirit, saved for the last days when he can resist anything. Even his mom.

My Baby is 6!

So this is my baby. I can't believe how much he has grown and changed over the past six years. Luckily we had a digital camera when he was born, so I have pictures of the happy event. He was happy pretty much from the get go. Slept through the night at six weeks, unlike his sister who after a year finally got the hang of it.

I am so glad he is in our family. He is a story teller, and pretty much a ham. I found out today that he can be shy at school when he is the center of attention, but for the most part, he likes to act crazy.

Right now, his favorite words are fart and booty. Of course belching on command is another really "cool" activity. Nigel is also my dare devil. I tell the story (and it is 100% true!) about him climbing to the top of the fridge by grabbing the door handles and scaling the front of it when he was three. Needless to say, this mommy was scared to death. He doesn't do that anymore, but he is pretty much fearless about such things. He is scared of animals though...go figure.

Happy Birthday Nigel. You are my little tri-date kid! I love you!

Nigel's Creations

Nigel has only thrown up two or three times in his entire life time.  The kid is healthy as a horse, but I can't figure out why.  Last week, after he threw up and had to come home early and miss school, he told me he thought he was dying. 

I decided to stay home on Wednesday and we had a very quite day.  The little stinker got ahold of my iPhone and decided to take a few pictures:

His cute little drawings!

Hmm, I swear he was supposed be watching Zach and Cody while I showered!

Way cute piggies!

Very ingenious little guy!  He knows that I don't let him have free reign very often.  There is not telling what he would do!  I love the last picture.  I think I may have to scrap it!

Out of the dregs of sorrow comes.....my children!

These two little darlings can get anyone out of the doldrums.  I started scrapping Sunday night, after my post, and this made me feel a whole lot better about life.  Here are two beings that are straight from our Heavenly Father, vibrant and full of hope.  Although there are days when I get frustrated with the breakdowns at Wal-Mart (tonight) it always seems that they can turn my frown upside down!  (Primary songs are always appropriate ways to express feelings!)

Here are a couple of pages I've been doing.  As always, I suck at credits, so be assured that I used a digital template and kits, not of my own creation, but of someone much more computer savvy than I am!!!

Abbie at her piano recital on December 18, 2008 at the Layton Library Auditorium.  She played really well!

A couple of Christmas pics of gifts.  Look at Nigel cheesing it up with his Red Robot.  He calls him "Red Clawson"!

Of course the traditional Christmas Jammies!  What family doesn't do this, I wonder.  Oh, that's right, mine didn't when I was growing up...so why do I do it now?  Beats me! :)

Abbie and her games.  She is a game fanatic!

I have more photos to scrap, but this is what I had done.  I'm just so lucky to have kids like this, who are so good.  I certainly do love them!!!

Working on the blog

I thought it was time for a new look for my blog.  I found that by changing the width, I have a lot more room for my posts and it just doesn't look as cluttered.  Whoo hoo!  We'll see how it goes.

I have scrapped my photos from Halloween and thought that I would share.  I am so proud of Daniel's prowess in the sewing field.  The kid's looked fantastic and loved their costumes.  What little darlings!