Listen While You Work

I went Visiting Teaching today after the kids were done with their morning swimming lessons. My companion wouldn't be joining us, so the responsibility of scheduling the visit and sharing a spiritual message fell to me. As is so often the case in my life, too many other items ( and people) demanded my attention and I didn't begin to prepare my message until we were driving from the pool to the home of the sister I was going to visit.

I found the lesson for this month in my LDS library app on my phone. As we pulled out of our parking place at the city pool, the lesson started to play over the speakers of the car. My kids have developed amazing talents for blocking out sounds, mainly by talking over the top of them. That's what they did during my lesson prep. I called to the back of the van several times for them to be quiet, sometimes I was calm, sometimes not so much.

They finally listened and Cooper realized what I was doing.

Cooper: Mom? What are you listening to? (pause of understanding) Is this for Visiting Teacher? (to Peter in the back seat) She's cheating! I can't believe she's cheating! Mom, this is cheating.

Phoebe: (in a voice full of experience) Oh no Cooper, she does this all the time.

Ninja Princess

Love You In Spite of...

Phoebe repeatedly complained today about the way her brothers smell. Apparently she just realized they are sometimes an odoriferous group of humans. As the sister to three brothers, I've had this knowledge for many years. Although she returned to the topic several times throughout the day, my favorite happened this afternoon.

Phoebe: Mom, the boys smell so bad! I really think we should spend more time outside.

Me: Why? To get away from the smell?

Phoebe: Yes! It smells so bad in here. Why does Peter stink? (pause) How old will I be when Peter's your age?

Me: When Peter is 35 you'll be 30.

Phoebe: (now in a weepy voice) I'll miss Peter so much!

Me: Why? Where is he going?

Phoebe: (sniffling) I don't know.  He might be married. And I'll miss him! But we should really get out of this house, because it stinks!

While the Big Kids Learn to Swim

At the Car Wash

Once upon a time I went to get my car washed. This was no ordinary car wash, this was a pay-inside-only car wash. However, since a bandit must have whisked away the appropriate signage, I didn't know what made this car wash special. I just thought it was busted.

After spending a few minutes fiddling with what I assumed was the pay machine and having no luck, I decided to take my business elsewhere. My boys, strong-minded young men that they are, called to me with loud voices that I should simply drive through the empty car wash so we could leave. However, the car wash looked ominous and I feared that without the proper code to use the car wash, driving though it might damage the van. Additionally, the day had already been full to the brim of similarly direct and bossy statements, so I decided to back-up, because an obstinate parent sets a lovely example for their equally obstinate offspring.

The reverse of the vehicle went smoothly, which was to be expected. I am an excellent backer-upper of cars and vans. I am not, however, very good at judging proximity to curbs. This very-special-not-busted car wash had another fancy feature: sharp, elevated curbs.

And that, dear reader, is when I ripped the trim off the side of my van. Well, mostly ripped. I had to manually yank it free of its remaining earthly tether since, in addition to missing informational signs and functioning external card readers, that particular gas station didn't have any screwdrivers.

The moral of our tale of adventure and woe?

Don't wash your car.

Young Skywalker

Last night as I tucked her in, Sophie informed me that she had named the baby doll in her arms.

"Goodnight Darth Vader. Are you okay, Darth Vader? Are you hungry? Oh, Darth Vader, you want a blanket? Mama, this baby name Darth Vader. Say goodnight to Darth Vader."

I of course said goodnight to the bald, naked baby doll that was lovingly wrapped in a My Little Pony blanket. We'll do our best to keep her from the dark side.

The Unknown

Today was a hard day. Occasionally I write about the rough days, but more often than not I cheat and post a quick happy picture of the kids and then go numb my emotions by reading Facebook. That's what I wanted to do tonight as well, but it appears I'm making a different choice.

These hard days have been coming fast and furious lately. I could say it's because the kids are out of school or because the TV is broken or because everybody at my house wants to be in charge and nobody wants to listen, but those are simply parts of the whole. There are so many factors that go into the day feeling like it WILL NEVER END. I can't write about all of them, because they aren't all solely my burdens to bear, but I can write about one.

This is the last rotation for Bryan's program. I've written in the past about how difficult moving so often is, and I still feel that way. On the other hand, we've had many wonderful experiences that never would have happened if we'd stayed in one place. Ever the optimist, eh? Finding the silver lining is my natural default setting. That's what I do every time a friend or family member asks where we're going next, but it's growing more and more challenging.

See, we were told that we would have an assignment in place by April 22. Today is June 6, and we still don't know. To make the situation even more exciting we had to give notice that we would not be renewing our lease (just in case we need to move) and would/will probably move next month.

Do you hear that? It's the sound of my heart palpitating in a frantic, panic inducing rhythm.

I'm not the only one freaking out about it. Bryan is probably feeling the stress most of all, but the kids are certainly anxious. Our immediate future is a path that drops off into darkness. Every friend and family member I talk to asks: have you heard? do you know?

I will send a mass text/email/well choreographed flash mob to notify my community at large when we know the plan.

Until then, I live in a state of emotional paralysis. Do I start preparing the kids emotionally to move? Do I plan the summer? Do I ready our belongings for a relocation? Do I look for places to live in the various possible locations we might end up? Do I bucket list the heck out of Illinois? Do I focus on spending as much time with our friends as we can while we're here?

Too many questions freeze my brain, just ask my kids. Sometimes they'll all come at me with simultaneous queries and I have to yell out, "Stop! This is overwhelming!"

That's what I want to shout at this job situation, "Stop! This is overwhelming!"

Perhaps a better choice would be, "Hurry! This is overwhelming!"

Breakfast, Anyone?

Murphy's Law

The Screen Time Plan was amazing. The kids were motivated and my house was cleaner than it's been in a while. However, thanks to a certain two-year-old who sometimes throws remotes, this is what the screen looks like now.

Their motivation was much lower today. We might need to rethink the plan...

I Looked Out the Window and What Did I See?*

My kids swinging bow-staffs not so carefully!
Break had brought me such a big surprise,
Ninjas training right before my eyes.
The sticks came from the garden, out by the fence.
I've tried to throw them out and will do so hence.
I said no to a show, so they got back at me,
My kids swinging bow-staffs not so carefully!

*No children or parents were harmed during the activity that inspired this post. Any thoughts of revenge from the children were the creation of the lyricist and not a reflection their actual character. Mostly.