I'm not dead yet (quoted with a Monty Python accent)

So it looks like when June hit I fell off the face of the earth.  It was something like that.  Leah and I survived the rest of the semester doing Connections Academy and got her moved up to fifth grade.  We celebrated Naomi's birthday and baptism (which deserves it's own post) then the school year ended.  Dad and the girls came home and the next day I started working full time at the Oregon Coast Aquarium.  I worked for Sharpshooters Imaging, taking souvenir pictures, editing, printing and selling them.  I also got to take pictures of Sea Lion Kisses several times a week.  It was fantastic!  My birthday came and went with a sweet celebration with my little family and at the end of July my brother Andrew spoiled us with a visit! 

While we were plugging away at day to day life, changes were brewing under the surface.  Lars and I have been dreaming about Lars writing a book...someday.  We decided to make "someday" today.  Since he would no longer be teaching in Waldport it was completely pointless to live there.  We decided Corvallis (an hour east of Newport) would be a great place to live.  It's a great community with fantastic schools, an hour from the coast and an hour from Portland.  This is where Oregon State University is located so we wanted to get moved in before all the students came back and scooped up all the housing and jobs.  We started looking on line in June for places to rent.  In July I found this great little duplex that we have since moved into.  It's at the end of a long private drive so there is no traffic, plenty of room for the girls to ride their bikes and has a great fenced in yard.  It's really an ideal place for us!   

We loaded up a moving truck at the beginning of August and left Waldport at 63 degrees to arrive in Corvallis at 93 degrees!  You could say it was a shock to the system.  :)  The girls had all dressed as they normally did in pants and long sleeved shirts with a jacket.  When we got out in Corvallis, Emilia burst into tears and said, "What is this?"  Heat.  "I don't like it!!"  I do.  I LOVE it.  I want to marry it.  Despite the warm weather several families from our new ward at church showed up and helped us unload the truck, brought us goodies and got us settled in.  We have been so warmly welcomed that it has been an easy transition. 

The only part that hasn't been easy (for the girls) is that we couldn't bring our cat with us.  I told them it came down to having a place to live, or having a cat.  After quite a bit of consideration, they finally agreed that it was probably more important to have somewhere to live.  Thankfully our friend was able to take Ramses and told the bawling girls that they could come visit him any time they wanted.

Well, I'm going to stop this post here and put the rest of my disjointed thoughts in another one.  Cheers.

A Vote of Confidence

Heidi's birthday is fast approaching.  To say she's excited is a vast understatement.  This morning Heidi decided she was going to make her invitations.  I decided I was going to take a shower. 

I turn on the water.
Heidi asks for paper.
I shampoo my hair.
Heidi asks for tape.
I shave my legs.
Heidi brings me a towel.
I get out and use said towel.
Heidi tells me to put on my undies and my clothes.
I ask her why.

"Because Mom," she answers, "My friends will see you with no clothes on...and your bum...and they will say, 'EWWWWW!  Let's have your birthday party somewhere else,' Just like I want to say."

Party canceled.  I'm going for a run.

Well I feel sheepish...

As I was driving around the neighborhood today, I noticed a little girl that I hadn't seen before running around alone.  When I say little, I mean under 2.  I slowed down to see if there were any adults around.  There were none in sight.  As I slowed down, she ran across the street and directly behind my car.  I couldn't see her anymore, so I put my car in park and got out.  When she saw me, she ran back to the house across the street and behind some bushes. 

I went up to the front door and could hear the vacuum running inside.  I figured the little cutie had pulled a fast one and escaped when she knew Mom couldn't hear her open the door.  Just as I knocked on the door, the mom flung it open and yelled, "LACY!"  It startled me and I startled her. 

I told the mom what had happened and that I was just worried about the kid.  The mom was apologizing profusely, saying this never happens, she had just checked on her two seconds ago, she was just in the kitchen...yada yada yada.  I assured her I completely understood, having four children of my own.  It happens, just wanted to make sure the little cutie was safe.
More apologies from her...
more reassurances from me that it could happen to anyone...
and then as if on cue, my own three year old opened the van door, bolted blindly across the street
and ran up to me...naked.

I scooped her up, smiled sheepishly and slunk back to my own house to study up on the proper care of children.

Cop Out

The Friday of Memorial Day weekend I drove into Corvallis to spend the afternoon with my friend.  I stayed longer than I planned (but actually expected) and started driving home around 11 pm.  Knowing full well that the cops are on the prowl more vigilantly this weekend than most others, I decided to drive back on a more rural highway hoping to avoid any interactions. 

Now this highway is not as busy as it's parallel counterpart to the north because it is far more windy.  (Why are windy-very curvy, and windy-blustery spelled the same?  This is very confusing.  Highway 34 is far more curvy than Highway 20, although it could also be more blustery as well...)  When you turn onto the road, there is about a four mile stretch that is straight before you hit the switchback turns.  There was one car in front of me with Washington plates, driving 5 under the speed limit.  I figured, if he's driving like this when the road is straight, he'll be crawling through the curves.  I needed to get home, I was scheduled for a ten hour shift the next day!

This was my one and only opportunity to pass before Washington doubled my drive time.  I went for it.  Two seconds later another car passed him as well.  Two seconds after that, red and blue lights were flashing in my rear view mirror.  I pulled over, cursing silently, and rolled down my window.  The officer came up to the window and forcefully spewed out, "You were swerving all over the road!  What's the rush?  Why did you pass the car in front of you when they were going exactly the speed limit?"  I was a little taken aback and responded with a "deer in the headlights" stare.  Then he asked for my license and registration.  Let me insert here that we still don't have license plates on our car (yes it's been two months since we bought it) and I had just been grocery shopping so I had bags all over the front seat.  I couldn't find my wallet.  I didn't know how to open the glove box.  Twenty minutes later, (it felt like it with a mean man and a flashlight staring down my back)  I handed him my license and registration.  He handed me back the registration with a dead pan, "This expired in 2010."  Rrrrright.  I dug a little deeper and found the correct registration...still in a sealed envelope.

He took them and went back to his car.  10 seconds later he was back at my window.  He handed me back my documents and said, "I thought you were drunk.  Don't swerve and don't speed.  Have a nice night."  Deer-in-the-headlight stare again.  He walked away.  I put my stuff away and pulled back onto the highway.  He followed.  I purposely drove 5 under the speed limit.  He followed.  After twenty minutes I pulled over again and pretended to look for something so he would pass me.  He did, finally.  I drove like the idiot from Washington the rest of the way home.

called my bluff

H-Can you help me get onto Webkinz world?
Me- L has to help you.  I don't know how. 
H- Yes you do!  You have hands!

Mom's Top Ten Lists

It's 9:30 at night and I'm in my room listening to my daughters across the hall rehearsing songs for their Mother's Day production tomorrow.  I'm in love.  Rather than get all sappy on you here I'll give you a couple top ten lists.

Ten awesome things about being a Mom

10.Little foot prints in the sand
9.  I can snuggle and smooch on squishy little cheeks all I want
8.  Anytime I come back from being gone, all my girls will run up to me and hug me
7.  My girls really believe I can make everything all better
6.  I get to do all the things adults aren't "supposed" to do anymore...because I have kids
5.  Right now they still want me to eat school lunch with them.  (Yes, I am fully aware that in five years or less I will be horribly embarrassing.)
4.  I get to decorate my house with all of their beautiful artwork
3.  I will never get tired of hearing, "You're the best Mom in the world!"
2.  Discovering their amazing little personalities
1.   I can finally say, "Because I said so!"

Ten annoying things about being a Mom

10.  I kind of get tired of hearing, "Looks like you have your hands full!" anytime I have my children in  public.
9.  Laundry. Loads of it. Literally.
8.  Most of my day is spent worrying
7.  Washing laundry
6.  Stepping on cereal.  (How does so much of it end up on the floor anyway?)
5.  Forgetting to switch the laundry so I have to wash it again
4.  I miss sleeping
3.  Folding laundry
2.  Putting laundry away
1.  Laundry

I realize I'm biased, but I think I'm the luckiest Mom in the world...and yes, it's worth all the laundry  :)

Don't Call Me "Mom"

I was in the Dollar Store with the girls.  True to her three year old self, H was touching everything and asking me for everything in sight.  Every two seconds she was saying, Mom.  Mom.  Mom.  Can I have this cowgirl hat?  Mom!  Mom. Mommommommommommooooooooooooooooooooooooom!!! 

After a few minutes of this I said to her, "Sorry, I changed my name.  I'm not answering to Mom anymore.  You may now call me Your Highness Royal Queen of Everything." 

Two minutes later Heidi was still pulling everything off the shelves and throwing it all into the cart.  After everything she touched I said, Heidi put that back.  Heidi stop touching everything.  Heidi Heidi Heidi HeidihhhhhhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiidiHi!

H looked at me and said, "Sorry, I changed my name."  and went on her merry way.

I'm in BIG trouble.

A bit of catching up to do...

I've realized that I get so involved taking pictures of other people and keeping up that website that I am forgetting to post some of our own memories.  So here are a few picts from the last few months :)

N took a ten week guitar class which culminated at the Ribbon Festival in Newport where they performed "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" as a class.

E lost her first tooth.  She brought it to school for show and tell.  To the best of my knowledge, the Tooth Fairy still hasn't rewarded E for her first contribution to her collection.  Slacker.

H has begun her art career.  She draws on everything and then asks me how to spell things.  She writes all the letters, but not necessarily in the right order.  :)  Give her a break...she's 3.

E taught herself how to ride a bike.

I'm still homeschooling L and she is doing SO well.  I got a job at the Oregon Coast Aquarium taking pictures.  Just touristy pictures, but it's a foot in the door.  I'm hoping to get on to take pictures for other events that they host there.  And in all of my free time, I am continuing to take pictures everywhere and any time I can.  Here are a few of my most recent.

 This is just outside Monmouth, Oregon

We came across this little Harbor Seal down at Alsea Bay in Waldport, Oregon.

Lars is plowing through these last six weeks of school.  I'm pretty sure he is looking forward to summer vacation more than all of his students put together. :)

Siblings....sigh (the wistful kind of sigh...I swear)

***DISCLAIMER-This post is my perception of childhood events and relationships.  I still maintain the opinion that I was the fastest, strongest, funniest and obviously Mom's favorite.*** 

Amy, Joe, Ben, Stephanie, Jacob, Elizabeth, Yours Truly with horribly long hair, Andrew and Becca

This is a picture of the last time my siblings and I were all together, two years ago. It is also the ONLY picture where I am not giving somebody bunny ears.

We were all together for my brother Ben's high school graduation and to see my brother Joe off on his mission to Spain.  Joe is coming home in May!  It seems unreal that two years has already passed.  This event and several others have got me thinking back to "the good old days" when the younger half of us were in diapers, and the older half of us were complaining that the smell of said diapers was severely cramping our social and dating life.

Steph and I are only 13 months apart.  I'm just going to guess she wasn't exactly thrilled with someone stealing her baby thunder so early in life because we had a rough go at this sister thing until she moved out of the house and went to college.  I know Mom, that's not entirely true...I do have some fantastic memories of choreographing dance routines to "I think we're alone now" by Tiffany and "Hangin' Tough" by none other than The New Kids on the Block (I heart Jordon), out on the railing of the back deck that we treated as a balance beam.

In my adolescent mind, Steph was fearless.  When she was only 8 years old, she decided she wanted her own bedroom...in the basement.   We grew up in a two bedroom house with an unfinished basement.  At some point along the way, my parents put down carpeting and hung curtains from the ceiling to separate the basement into "bedrooms," dormitory style.  Steph, however, was the pioneer.  She just had Dad throw a bed frame in the back corner and called it good.  I remember that first night she slept down there all by herself.  I snuck down to the landing on the stairs and peeked around the corner.  Steph looked SO far away, tucked in the deepest, darkest corner.  I knew without a doubt that she couldn't possibly be afraid of anything!

Elizabeth is two years younger than me.  Growing up she was Liz, Lizzy or when we were mad at her, Lizard Breath.  Her elementary school years were tainted by a bad 80's perm, that she loved.  Never afraid to talk to anyone or tell you what was on her mind, she often spearheaded many neighborhood clubs and if I remember correctly a Newsletter.  Somewhere, a single edition of "6th Street Dudes" is still circulating.  One of my favorite memories of Elizabeth includes her sitting in the front yard in some body's stroller with a drawing pad and pencil in hand.  She was facing the house, drawing the mailbox intently.  When I asked her what she was doing, she burst into an original song, "You're disturbing my concentration.  You're disturbing my concentraaaation.  Stop!  Turn around and go away, 'cause you're disturbing my concentraaaaaaaaation."

Putting those mad leadership skills to use, Elizabeth held student government offices all through elementary, junior high and high school.  My only claim to fame on this one was that I got to help make her campaign posters.  She babysat for a family who was very germ conscious (dare I say borderline OCD) and it rubbed off on her.  For a while we compared Elizabeth to the little elephant on Tarzan http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJrEiWsI4f8  If she ate a carrot, or a bread stick, she would hold the very tip of it, eat down to where her fingers touched and then throw that part away. 

Amy came two years after Elizabeth.  Apparently I named her, and while I have no direct recollection of this event, I used it as bragging rights throughout my life.  I do remember, however, stealing little beads of frosting from around the cake they used to give the mom in the hospital after she had a baby.  My parents often refer to Amy as their "flower child" with her airy voice and free spirit.  As a little red head getting ready for kindergarten, big sister Steph asked Mom if she could trim Amy's waist long hair.  Mom said sure.  Steph cut a half inch off the bottom, but it wasn't even; so off came another inch, half inch, three quarters of an inch, all the way up her back until Amy had a very even bob.  That was the beginning of Amy's hair adventures.  I wish I had access to pictures of the variety of styles and abominations that she sported over the years.  (What?  There is no other word for a rat tail.  Admit it.)

Amy and I used to take "The Twinkie" our yellow, twelve passenger van to the grocery store, Hy-Vee.  We would order an obscene amount of their delicious home made bread sticks and on the way out, we would reach up and switch "off" the automatic front doors so the next people who tried to go in or out would run into them.  Classic.  Sometimes we went to Wal-Mart with a handful of quarters and bought useless crap from the quarter machines in the front of the store.  Driving home from the store, we would roll down our windows and throw them at cyclists.

Andrew was the first boy child and for that very reason we all concluded that he MUST be Dad's favorite.  I remember when my Mom called from the hospital to tell us it was a boy and his name was Andrew, I kept asking what his name was again because I had never heard that name before.  So for whatever reason, he landed the nick name Bug, and when we were feeling exceptionally silly, Bug-a-Rooster. With four older sisters, Andrew was never found wanting for attention.  At age three my Mom brought him into the family doctor because the kid had never uttered a word in his life.  The Doctor, knowing our family well, reassured her that there was nothing wrong with Andrew, he simply had no need to speak when he was doted on so heavily.  Good news, the Doctor was right.

Andrew was all boy.  If my facts are correct, he started eating baby food at two months old because he was always hungry.  My Mom said she knew Andrew had male programming when one morning at breakfast he ate one corner off his piece of toast, picked it up and started using it as a gun, sound effects included. 
We picked on Andrew relentlessly.  Often I would sit on his stomach and knuckle his shins until they bruised...because I could.  One time I was unloading the dishwasher and Andrew kept running by and hitting me.  So the next time he ran by, I pulled a plate out of the dishwasher and held it in front of his head as he ran by.  Andrew cracked it in half with his face.

By the time Becca was born either my parents actually needed help coming up with names, or more likely they wanted to appease our endless desires to have a say in everything.  My Dad gave each of us a 3x5 note card to write down our baby name suggestions.  I desperately wanted to name her Dotty, after Pee Wee Herman's girlfriend.  I was devastated when my parents wouldn't even seriously consider it.

Becca was my first sibling to also have brown hair.  She's kind of my mini-me.  In fact, the other day she was showing her son pictures of me and he thought they were his mom.  We are also very similar in personality, although I would venture to say Becca has more of a natural "stick-to-itivness" than I have.  She was born with the determined personality that makes being a child very difficult, but pretty much guarantees your success as an adult.  I remember on many, MANY occasions Becca throwing a fit if she didn't get her way.  These were no ordinary fits.  They would last for hours.  On the other hand, she was quite the little joker.  Even before she could speak very well, Becca liked to pretend she was asleep and fake snore.  I am pleased to say this is a genetic trait that she has passed on to her son!

Joe spent the first several years of his life looking like the kid on "So I married an Axe Murderer" with a gigantic head http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SJ8Rc98Xs20.  Except instead of a fro, he had a bad 90's bowl cut.  When Joe and Ben were probably four and three, we would put snow mittens on them and set up a boxing ring in the living room.  We would send them after each other, cheering them on until someone started crying. 

One year for homecoming, I invited my date and group of friends over for dinner.  My mom made pizza while Joe and Ben were our servers.  They dressed in their little suits and ties, put a towel over their arms and took orders, handed out napkins and charmed all the ladies.  They also provided the entertainment when they showed off their "moth collection."  Joe and Ben pulled back the curtain to reveal the moths they had trapped, killed and taped to the back sliding glass door.  

Joe has always had a tender heart.  I moved out to Idaho for college just before his 8th birthday.  He really, really wanted me to come back for his baptism.  I searched plane and train and bus tickets, but there was no way I could afford it.  I called to tell him it just wasn't going to work out and Joe offered to send me the $50 he had received in his birthday cards. 

Ben was born with a tongue too big for his mouth.  The kid was always saturated with drool.  His shirts would be wet down to his belly button because let's be honest, if you can't close your mouth and swallow, you don't have many options.

When I was a Senior in high school, Ben was in Kindergarten.  At the end of the school year I stole an old math book from my classroom and brought it home for the sole purpose of burning it.  My parents humored me and sent me out back with a book of matches.  Ben was right by my side!  My most favorite picture is of the math book open, I'm holding a match and Ben has a gigantic grin on his face holding a can of hairspray!

Often when I was at college, Ben would send me typed letters.  The general format always included a brief recounting of his life experiences (two sentences), questions teasing me about a boyfriend (two more sentences), and then about thirty lines of random letters, signs and smiley faces. :)

Jacob learned to ride a two wheeler when he was three years old.  We had a little red bike that most likely had training wheels at one time, but Jacob didn't need them.  The kid was fearless.  Our driveway was fairly steep and Jacob would start at the top and ride full speed down to the street like a mad man.

Jacob was only 4 when I moved out so most of my interactions with him happened when I would come home to visit.  On one of those visits, I was giving all the boys a haircut and Jacob announced that he wanted to give himself a bowl cut.  My mother humored him.  Jacob literally put a bowl on his head, took a pair of scissors and started cutting his hair around it.  He was so thrilled with himself, until he looked in the mirror.  Then he saw the uneven top part and the bald spots around the bottom.

Because his brothers took piano lessons, Jacob did as well.  When he wanted to quit my Mom would always say, "That's fine, but you have to tell the teacher yourself."  Jacob never quit.

People often ask me if I liked being one of nine kids.  The answer is always yes.
People often ask me if I want to have nine kids.  The answer is always no.
I don't know how my parents did it, but I'm glad they did.
I love my family.   

Ask Steve and Blue...they know what to do!

H was watching Blue's Clues this morning while I was in the kitchen having my morning panic attack about how much I wanted to get done today and how it never seems like I can focus on one thing long enough to actually be productive.  Then the catchy little theme song floated in from the living room, "...'Cause when we use our minds and take one step at a time,
We can do any THING... that we wanna do!"

If you've ever watched the show you know that Steve is basically an idiot...not to mention that he has a bad "mom" hair cut.  However, I think he's on to something here with the whole take one step at a time idea.




If you were to draw a map of my general pattern of functioning it would look like this.

Here's why.

7 a.m. I wake up and roll out of bed.
Walk out of my bedroom and groan at the general state of chaos around me.
Step over shoes, clothes, and hairbrushes on my way to the kitchen to make sack lunches.
Take out the bread and peanut butter.
Realize there is not clean knife in the drawer, so I open the dishwasher and start unloading it.
N asks me for her lunch so I stop unloading the dishes and finish making her lunch.
Send N out to the bus stop.
On my way back to the finish unloading the dishwasher I notice E has left her jacket on the floor.
I pick it up and bring it to the laundry room.
I realize there is a load of clothes in the washer that I forgot to switch from three days ago.
I dump in 2 cups of laundry soap, pray the clothes haven't molded together and start the washer.
I open the dryer and start to fold the clothes.
I find a quarter in the dryer and bring it to the kitchen to put in the change jar.
Once again, I see the dishwasher open and go to finish unloading it. 
As I'm putting dishes away I keep stepping on Cheerios, cringing with each crunch.
I take a break from the dishes and employ the broom.
While sweeping I find seven hair ties on the floor.
I bring the hair ties to the bathroom and gag at the sight of crusted toothpaste all over the sink.
Immediately I bust out the Scrubbing Bubbles and Magic Eraser.
Once my sink is clean, the mirror looks even dirtier than before.
I go into the laundry room to get the Windex and realize I never finished folding the clothes.
The rest of the clothes get folded and I bring them to the girls bedrooms.
Their drawers are so packed full of wadded up clothes that I can't put the clean ones in.
Naturally, I have to dump out all of the drawers, sort, fold and organize all their clothes.
I bring a stack of clothes that don't fit anymore out to the living room to take to Good Will.
When I pass the kitchen I see the dishwasher still sitting open with dishes in it.
I go back to the sink and start loading dirty dishes into the dishwasher.
Those dishes in the dishwasher were dirty, weren't they???
(Does anyone else have this problem or do I need to get medicated for a case of adult onset ADD?)
By this time it's only 8:45, I have five half-finished projects and I'm supposed to be able to sit down with L and focus on doing home school with her. 

So when I heard this silly little tune float in, "'Cause when we use our minds and take one step at a time,We can do any THING... that we wanna do!"  I thought, that is EXACTLY what I need to do...  one thing at a time, start to finish, without distraction.  But HOW??!?

This is the part where I give you all of my fantastic discoveries of all the great things I have found that work for me and then give a testimonial of how drastically my life has improved, boasting of my immaculate home and perfect organization.  Well, I just gave you a really great run-on sentence.  That's about all I have to offer at the moment. 

Does anyone have any fantastic life changing advise for me?  I need help!