Braindrain

A random post featuring some of the things swirling around in my head.

My children are so cute I want to freeze them.  A twelve year old boy, a ten year old girl and two six-year-olds on the cusp of turning seven is just the absolute perfect combination for me right now.  Personalities are fully formed but no one is taller than me yet.  (Although Jake is just a few weeks and maybe a Grandslam Breakfast away from looking down upon me.  Luckily I will outweigh him for decades!)

I enjoy my kids so much more than I did just a few years ago.  They can read!  They can tie!  They can wipe!  They are smart, funny and delightful.  Sam thanks me after every meal in Spanish.  Gracias, Mami for the delicious frozen waffle.  I am charmed on a daily basis.

I'm so glad when Daddy comes home.  Brad flies in tonight after a week in Philly and NJ.  He drove by our old house and took photos.  He visited some old friends.  He even had a quick trim by his beloved Donna at Personal Style.  (A fact which made me sooo envious, I actually dreamed I was back at the David Witchell salon in Newtown!  Oh, good hair days, why do you torment and elude me?)

I was tempted to fly back with him and tour our old stomping grounds together.  But, the truth is, I am just not ready.  I still miss it there a lot.  As much as I love the sunshine and having a pool right out the back door, I left a big piece of my heart on the Eastern seaboard.  I need a little more time to get over it.

I love having Brad in town.  I love having him work from home.  We've switched roles a little.  Now I'm the one who is gone all day and he's the one waiting for the cable guy.  He loads the laundry and turns off the CrockPot.  We go out to lunch and remember what life was like those first eight years we had together when it was just the two of us.  We've still got it.

We are family.  I got all my sisters with me!  Last month, Marta and Benji came to town for two glorious weeks.  It was simply the best.  I dragged her along on all our crazy adventures and she was, as always, a great sport.  How fun to watch my baby sister as a mother.  I learned from her everyday!

I was so sad to see Min go...but now, guess what?!  Two more sisters are driving down sans hubbies and bringing along their (yes, count 'em) SEVEN little girls for some fun-in-the-sun next week!  Eighteen extra ovaries, people.  Don't you wish you could be a fly on the wall!?  I cannot wait.

And some things you just can't blog about...  The biggest change going in my life right now is my church assignment.  Getting a new calling is kind of like being a new mom.  At first, everyone says nice things and hugs you and tells you what a great job you will do...and then THEY LEAVE YOU ALONE WITH THE BABY.  And you just have to do it.

I'm still at the stage where I don't know what I don't know.  I'm trying to study up real quick.  I am loving the excuse to make lots of new friends, to do lots of one-on-one visiting.  It's a very old-fashioned, non-digital kind of job which I find energizing and enjoyable.  I'm doing a lot of listening and I'm learning a lot, but it's not stuff I want to post about.  Just trust me, after a short time rubbing shoulders with these women, I will be a better person.

Ready, Set, Go

My race is tomorrow!  I am so excited I can hardly sit still.  I know it is going to be hard, but I'm just ready to do it and get it done.  Can't wait for the endorphins and adrenaline and all the fun with my crazy relay team.

Will be wearing this headlamp (and an equally dorky expression, no doubt)  for the midnight run.

This Sunday I started training for a different kind of run.  I was asked to be the president of the Relief Society at church.  Basically a full-time job.

Like running a Ragnar, being an RS President is not something I EVER thought I'd do.  But here I am.  At the starting line.  Hoping my muscles are strong enough.  Nervous and excited.  Ready to have fun with my new team.

The blog will undoubtedly suffer...but I promise to post along the way...

Wish me luck!!!

Ninja Stars and Valentines

 

Yes, there is a sixth-grade boy in the house.

That means Nerf bullets on the stairs and airsoft gun pellets in the vacuum cleaner bag.  Ritz crackers ingested an entire sleeve at a time.  Mythbusters on TV.

A lifetime ago, I was a sixth grade teacher.  I remember being absolutely horrified about the lack of hygiene so apparent in 12 year old boys.  Helping a post-recess student with improper fractions, I would think, Does this kid ever shower?  Change his socks? Use toothpaste? 

My self-righteous little heart would wonder, Where on earth was his mother?

And, of course, now I know.  At that very moment, his mother was probably at Target buying Right Guard, Odor Eaters and Colgate in bulk and placing them strategically throughout the house.  His mother was bleaching socks and tee-shirts as fast as her little spin cycle could churn.  His mother was sacrificing new living room furniture to pay for braces.  She was fishing an orthodontic appliance out of the trash.

Now I have learned that boys this age are just pre-programmed to look like they're homeless.  For every ratty, raggy tee and grimy hoodie, there are three crisp, striped Rugby shirts in the closet.  With the tags still on.

I would like to travel back 15 years and tell the smug, childless me that actually those sixth-grade mothers weren't too poor or lazy to buy their boys new shoes.  In fact, they probably did spring for brand-new Nikes to replace the still-pretty-new Adidas which had been "custom air conditioned" during Social Studies.  And probably two days after the new shoes were purchased, one accidentally "fell out of the car" on the way home from a ski trip.

Because, once again, mothering is humbling the heck outta me.  One stinky sock at a time.

P.S.  Anyone seen a black Nike Reax?  Size 5 1/2?

Best of Twenty-ten

Don't you just love reading end of the year top ten lists?  Best movies, books, songs, news stories, inventions. Always makes me feel like I'm watching history unfold.  My own personal list isn't full of anything new or shocking, but these are ten discoveries that have made my year a little happier...

01.  audiobooks

I don't know how I'd ever work out, fold laundry, or get through all my other zillions of mind-numbing momtasks without audible entertainment.  And let's face it, once the twins started all-day school, the house was just WAY too quiet.  My listening library is a life saver.

02.  cerave skin care

Sara Vee?  Saravay?  Karavie?   I'm not sure how to say it, but I love this stuff.  It's cheap.  It's gentle.  It's recommended by my dermatologist.  Hey, I'm 40 now.  My skin needs all the help it can get.

03.  crossword love

Call me nerd if you must, but crosswords are my new favorite brain workout.  USA Today puzzles are the best, in my opinion.  And, if your husband travels a lot, he can bring them to you from hotel rooms around the country.  Sweet.

04.  my iphone

Yeah.  The whole smartphone revolution...I get it now.  

05.  friday night lights

Brad and I are addicted.  It's enough "All My Children" for me and plenty of "Sports Center" for him.  He doesn't seem to mind that I have a teeny crush on Coach Taylor.  Maybe because he thinks Tami is pretty cute.  Thank you, Netflix.

06.  charming charlie

I didn't know such a store existed til we moved West.  Can you say "candy store for grown women"!?  Cheap and non-fattening.  Also known to cure PMS.

07.  honey + licorice

These got me through my last East Coast winter.  (And it was a doozy...)  Sadly, I have not been able to find them anywhere since we moved.  I will keep scouring drugstore shelves, though, because my pocketbook is lonesome for their crinkly-wrapped goodness.

08.  shower power

Tilex Fresh Shower.  You know the kind you spray and leave?  And your brand-new, beautifully tiled shower stays streak- and mildew-free?  I love housekeeping when it's this simple.

09.  digital trainer

I've been using  MapMyRun  to help me stay motivated this month.  Technology is just so great.  With the help of #1 and #4, this little app is digitally kicking my trash.

10.  babysitters in da howse

The single greatest discovery of 2010 is the fact that my kids can take care of themselves for a few hours while Brad and I catch a movie or grab a bite.  In other words, I am saving so much money, I can head to Charming Charlie on a regular basis.  And I can go child-free!  Happy New Year to me.

What's on your Top Ten?

Jakeover

6th Grade Crazy Hair Day...but, really, isn't every day a crazy one when you're in sixth grade?

The adolescent and I have been doing a little Jakeover in his new bedroom.

Apparently, he has not been loving my decorating techniques lo these many years. Apparently, the preppy Nantucket cottage look is not jiving with his inner rockstar/sk8erboi. So madras plaid and denim are out. Black, silver and leather are in. Yes, there are fake fur throw pillows, which have been a major source of envy among younger sibs. (Pictures coming, once we hang the black-out curtains!)

Jake has grown a lot over the past couple months. I think I tower over him by a measly inch, maybe two. When I talk to him now, I am looking straight into those baby blues. Of course, this does not mean we see eye-to-eye on much.

Bedtimes, computer time, chore time, homework time, mealtime, dental hygiene time. All continue to be a struggle of wills. Life with Jake has never been boring.

My mom and I laugh about the day Jake learned to roll over. The absolute moment he discovered that he could actually muscle his way over that bulky left shoulder and GET AWAY, he started to roll like a demon tumbleweed from one room to another. There was no stopping him. I've been chasing after him ever since. He keeps me humble and very tired.

I am proud of the way Jake has handled the big changes life has brought him lately. Not only does he have a new school and new neighborhood, Mother Nature's starting in on a more personal sort of Jakeover.

Loathe to blog about it. After all, what kind of tween-hating mom posts about curly blonde leg hair or tiny little forehead breakouts? Certainly not me! (Even though both make him look quite manly and, if I were a sixth-grade girl and not his mother, I would totally have a major crush.)

I think adolescence is just as thrilling to watch as a baby discovering how to roll over for the first time.

But twice as frightening.

Just Trying to Swim to the Surface

For some reason, I really thought a cross-country move would be restful. A day at the beach. Not the moving part, of course, but the arriving and settling in.

I figured for the first year, I'd just be buried in packing peanuts and painting projects. I was actually kind of worried that I'd be bored and lonely.

Already, though, I feel like I am right back in the deep end. Today I started with a new responsibility at church and a big commitment at the kids' school. Soccer is three times a week, art class every Wednesday, piano lessons, orthodontist appointments, activity days, Scouts and...don't forget!...the laundry pile isn't going anywhere but up.

I guess at this stage of life, there isn't much time for lying in the sand. It's all about keeping my head above water.

Promise

Blogging, right now, is kind of like the pretty round bronzed mirror that looked so good in the entry of our old house but is now sitting dustily on a stack of cardboard boxes. I love it. I miss it. But I'm just not quite sure where it fits in the new place.

I have many blog-able thoughts and moments during the course of my day, but I haven't quite figured out when and how to get them all down.

My days are so busy right now. I don't know why. So many of the things that used to take up my time--half-day kindergarten, early morning Seminary, driving along winding, country roads to get anywhere--are no longer part of my routine. I've found a handful of new friends, but my social calendar is still pretty empty.

I guess it's the four kid thing that keeps me hopping. When they're around, they need food and help with homework and (unfortunately) a whole lot of sibling refereeing. When they aren't around, I'm buying their food, washing their clothes and making copies on the Riso machine for their teachers.

And what's taking up the rest of my time? As Dr. Seuss might put it... "Oh the house. Oh the house. Oh the house, house, house, house. That's the one thing she's doing. The house, house, house, house."

New houses are a lot of work. I have to keep reminding myself that Rome wasn't built in a day and that it took years before I was happy with all the paint colors and window treatments in our old place. We went ages without a finished basement and eons before Brad built the back patio. In fact, it was not the house of my dreams at all until we put it on the market last spring.

But, in my old age, I'm a lot less patient. I know how I want things to look. And I want them to look that way. Now. I drive myself a little crazy. Hanging things up, taking things down. Buying things. Returning things. And I'm still learning my way around town, so usually each errand takes twice as long as it should. See? Low-stress and inexpensive and eco-friendly!

Brad has been extremely patient with this whole nesting process. I mean, let's face it. The guy, if left to his own devices, would live in a house with one MASSIVE tv and a lone, comfortable (but hideous) black leather chair. A bed with a mattress so firm it'd need a medical prescription with no designer throw pillows. The walls would all be white without a single nail hole or picture hook to be found. There would be no toile in his world.

So, Babe, this post is dedicated to you and your generosity of spirit (and checkbook). I promise once all the drawer pulls are installed and the curtains hung, I will return to my former low-key, easy-going self. Yes, really.

Also, I promise, more blogging. More often. I miss it.

My Take

On exercise at age 40:

I am DONE with exercise I do not enjoy. Life is too short to spend any more time with you, Mr. Stairmaster. Same to you Dr. Elliptical. We are through.

Because what's the point of exercising for longevity if you keep looking at the Minutes Remaining and wishing you could die?

Hello, Zumba. Hello, Body Pump. Hello, Spin. Hello, Early Morning Walks in the Gorgeous Desert Sunshine. You make me happy.

On having all four kids in school all day:

I will not lie. I have mixed feelings. Some days I love it and feel like I'm getting away with something almost criminal. The mall? By myself? And I don't have to bribe anyone with a free balloon or an extra spin on the escalator? Other days I miss having little buddies around. I miss being needed in that non-stop little kid way.

People, of course, have asked, But what do you do all day? Well. Same things I used to do all day: Clean the kitchen. Go to the gym. Grocery shop. Pile after pile of dirty laundry. Errands and phone calls. Help at school. The difference now is I get to listen to whatever I want in the car and I have no excuse to stop for an ice cream cone.

Together time.(Nimmy...this living room shot is for YOU. Don't worry, I got new lamps.)

The downside of having everyone gone at once, is that everyone is home at once. There is no one-on-one (or two-on-one, in our case) time together and I DO miss that. Everyone is home and at their hungriest and neediest. And, of course, I am usually hungry and needy too.

My kids still need me. Just in a different way. It's just gonna take some getting used to.

On living in Arizona at this historic moment in time:

I feel like I should have a stronger opinion. But, the truth is, I can really see a lot of different sides to the issue. My goal is to get more educated.

In the short time we've lived here, though, I have found the population to be very friendly and welcoming. There are all shades and varieties of people coexisting nicely and acting like grown-ups. That seems like a good sign.

On settling into a new house:

We have cleared away most of the moving-in mess. Which is good. Because now we have all of the regular everyday living-in mess. And I can only handle so much mess.

Moving into a new place means re-evaluating every "system" in your life and re-ordering each one. The laundry system. Where will the dirty clothes go? What's the best place for the dryer sheets? The homework system. How many private study places do we need? Where are they? Why do the kids need to sharpen brand new pencils down to nothing? I find it enjoyable and exhausting.

Here is one of our study areas. In its former life, it was a family room wet-bar. But I learned in our old house that I don't like "wet" and "family" in the same room, if you know what I mean. So the sink is out. New countertops, drawers and pencils are in. A+ for Effort, right?!

The thing about this house is that it is going to take some living-in to get really comfortable. New sheets, new jeans, new houses may look great right out of the package, but to feel great, they need a little wear. (Remind me of this fact after someone lets a pen leak on the new slipcovers or the carpet meets a root beer float, ok?)

On Axe deodorant and shampoo:

I am glad products exist that make my eleven-year-old excited about personal hygiene. I like the instructions on the bottle that say Wash. Attract. Repeat. Along with a cartoon picture of a guy meeting a girl.

However, all four men in the household have been using Axe for a week now and, to date, no women have been attracted. As far as I can tell.

Crazy Quilt

Springtime is full of crazy quilt days. Haphazard, random, mismatched and asymmetrical. Nonproductive tiny scraps of time before the bus comes or between Scouts and piano lessons. Seemingly endless stretches like the bouncy thirty minutes spent in the back of the field trip bus or the teeth-chattering hours under a useless blanket at the baseball diamond. There are no solid square blocks in which to accomplish anything from beginning to end.

Laundry baskets carried downstairs on Good Intention Monday are still blocking traffic in the mudroom. (Oh thank heavens the house sold quickly!) And I'm not really sure if their contents are clean or dirty at this point. Life is served on paper plates and I'm running out of healthy dinners to serve on-the-go. Please, don't ask to see the inside of my car.

Luckily, I've made it through a few of these dizzy seasons before. I know that once the field days and spring concerts and softball tournaments are over, life settles into a slower and gentler summer routine. (Will it this year? I hope so. As gentle as moving six people 2,300 miles can be, anyway.)

I'm just hoping that once these insane days are all sewn up, I'll be able to stand back a little bit, take a deep breath and see the crazy beauty created by so many random scraps.

Spring, I Love You

Me + spring = happy + busy

When the sun starts to shine in April, I suddenly remember what a happy person I am. I didn't recognize how cold and dark things had been all winter. But once the rays come out and I can pull off the parka, I realize that all I needed was a little light and warmth and some vitamin D.

The natural sunlight, and all the springtime business that goes along with it, has pulled me away from the artificial light of my computer screen. I have much to catch up on...

Batter Up

Base/soft/t-ball has basically taken over our lives. Practices, pictures, games, keeping track of everyone's gloves and uniforms. It's a full-time job. So far so good. Jake is a strong lefty, Luke and Em are righties, like me. Sam still doesn't know if he's a left-handed player or a right-handed player...but we love him ambidextrously.

Can you believe it was warm enough to head to the beach last week?

Have I mentioned the weather is glorious? It's been park-hopping and eating on the back patio for us. Mother Nature is kindly helping us keep our house clean.

Two of us freckle, two of us brown like butter and two of us just turn pink. We are all shades of happy around here.

Want to buy our house?

The realtors have been knocking this week. Lots of foot traffic. Lots of good feedback. I spend an awful lot of time wiping out sinks, running up/down stairs to turn on every single light in the house. My home has never been this clean for so many consecutive days.

The youngest "old man" I know

Brad has been around a little bit more lately. It's so nice. Like sunshine, I don't realize how much I miss him until he comes back and lights up my life.

Here is what we do after dinner. The picture is a little shaky, but Emmie's commentary makes me smile.

An Open Letter to My Sisters

Dear Nim, Heed, Min & Mom,

Right now the entire contents of my kitchen and laundry room are stacked precariously in the dining room. There is a dumpster in my driveway and a jackhammer blasting away somewhere downstairs. I have a major case of early-morning-fatigue-syndrome. My husband's out of town, yet my kids still want dinner every night and clean clothes every morning.

I have a purple bathroom and an unfortunate new haircut.

Suffice it to say, the thought that I will soon be boarding a plane and sitting poolside with you is serving as my own personal drug-free mood stabilizer. I cannot wait.

Don't forget to bring: photos of your kids, your latest book recommendations, cast-off jewelry you think I will like, some really cheesy chick flix, self-tanner, nail polish and a big old Ziploc of Muddy Buddies.

Topics for group discussion: millennial mothering, spring fashion trends, The Help by Kathryn Stockett, improving spirituality, technology-pros, cons & how-to's, what to do with a purple bathroom & bad haircut.

Love you girls! See ya'll in 48 hours.

Tuckered Out

This is how we've all been feeling around here.

Between the home improvement craziness, a quick-hitting stomach bug (Do I look skinnier yet?), the crazy Nor'easter storm and that ridiculous springing forward nonsense, everybody's been dragging a bit. Especially me.

Luke loves all the construction workers hanging around our place. He follows them constantly, hoping to impress them with his toys and acrobatic skills. Yesterday, he flashed a prized dollar bill at one of the guys who promptly asked, "D'you work for that money?"

Luke got all shy, but I wanted to pipe in from the other room, "Of course, he earned it. We're trying to raise hard workers around here." I was anxious that he not think my kids lazy or entitled or spoiled.

The truth is, the guy was right, of course. Anything kids work for or wait for means more to them. Same with me.

And that's why, tonight, when the sun streamed into the backyard and the kids were all bouncing and laughing and nobody needed a jacket or shoes and Brad was grilling burgers with Monterey Jack and nobody was throwing up, I just sat back with a smile.

And enjoyed the sunset.

The More Things Change

Two and half years ago, I posted the following entry entitled, "You Might Be Raising Boys If..."

(Weren't they teeny?!)

You might be raising boys if...

1. You own a remote control tarantula.
2. You sort your laundry into the following categories:
   denim, khaki, camouflage and Spiderman.
3. Your blue bathroom always smells a little funky.
4. You know the exquisite agony of stepping on Star Wars Legos with your bare feet.
5. You go through a jumbo jar of peanut butter and four gallons of milk every week.
6. You can tell the difference between Percy, Thomas and James.
7. Flatulence is the highest form of humor in your home.
8. You are voluntarily going to spend 5 days at Cub Scout Day Camp.
   

Today I have to add:

You might be raising boys if...

you have a rubber snake in your powder room, mud in your laundry room, Froot Loops in your pantry and BB's in your vacuum cleaner bag.

God bless little boys and the mothers who keep 'em.

Resolute

So. We're six days in and I still haven't made any. Resolutions, that is.

The kids did...

• Luke--Learn to read.
• Sam--Learn to tie shoes.
• Em--Memorize times tables 0-12.
• Jake--Achieve First Class in Boy Scouts.

Now those are some resolutions. They have a beginning and an end. And they will all, most likely, be checked off the list before the ball drops next December. In other words, they will be resolved.

But what's a thirty-nine-and-a-half-year-old supposed to do? I'm not sure.

I refuse the usual exercise more/eat less/save more/spend less/organize more/clutter less promises. Those are about as exciting (and unending) as a resolution to keep the kitchen counters clean. I want something a bit more jazzy this year.

If you have some good suggestions, I would love to hear them. Seriously.

In the meantime, here are a few glimpses of our frozen tundra. The snow is gone, but the air is absolutely painful and all the moisture in the grass has turned to ice.

So, of course, my kids are outside with no coats on.

We have our own skating pond!

(Yes, camouflage is considered a wardrobe neutral. Try it sometime.)

In Denial of the Fact That...

1. Seminary starts back up tomorrow. My alarm clock will be buzzing at 5 am. Eastern Standard Time, people.
2. This week's high is 36 degrees Fahrenheit.
3. Two of my children--the ones who have been living on candy canes for four weeks straight and whose daily oral hygiene routine is over before you can say gingivitis--have dental appointments right after school.
4. 10 pounds Christmas cookie pleasure = 10 pounds New Years' pain. (Welcome back, Carbface. How I have missed ye...)
5. A couple of my favorite guys have a birthday this week. They will be expecting cake, balloons and thoughtfully selected gifts, preferably not wrapped in Santa paper.
6. 2010 is the year I turn 40.
7. The toys-- that looked so cute wrapped under the tree and stuffed merrily into the stockings --don't look so cute now that they are unwrapped and strewn merrily throughout the family room.
8. My Gapcard payment is due.

Anybody with me?

My Daughter, The Jock

Not a sports picture...but still pretty cute!

Emily started basketball this week. Soccer doesn't finish until later this month, so she's double-teamin' right now. She loves it and she's good. I'm proud of her. I'm impressed that she can actually throw and catch and dribble and kick. And run. And run. And run. Wow, this girl can run. So what if she didn't start walking 'til 18 months? She sure makes up for it now.

Miss Em lives for competition. She loves games and loves to win. Many evenings she chooses a few rounds of Uno over a bedtime story. Most times she wins. Fair and square.

I love having an athletic daughter. I always admired the girls who could flirt with the boys and then beat 'em on the tennis court. I always wanted to be the sporty type. But it's kinda hard to be sporty if you hate running and are afraid of the ball.

Back in my Elementary Ed days at BYU, I had to take a course for future gym teachers. To pass the class I was required to do the following:

1. Stand on my head for 60 seconds. I am not kidding.
2. Make five free-throw shots in a row.
3. Throw a football some ridiculous number of yards away from my body.

Luckily, that semester I had this really cute boyfriend who was also pretty athletic. I felt all helpless and feminine while he showed me the finer points of throwing a spiral. So romantic! I was sure the big He-Man was falling hopelessly in love with Dainty Li'l Me.

It worked. But a few months later, after we were engaged and talking about our future family, he said, "I just hope our kids take after me, you know, in the coordination department."

Fortunately (and, quite miraculously, actually) they all did.

And, because one of the best (and worst) things about being a mom is reliving your own childhood through your kids' experiences...now I can proudly say that I am a girl jock, too.

Yay, team!

In Praise of Monday Morning

The best-kept secret of motherhood is Monday morning.

After a whole weekend of soccer games, Pet Pals club, play dates, Chuck-E-Cheese, errand running, Sabbath "resting" and family togetherness...Monday morning is my return to sanity.

I put the big kids on the bus, the little kids in front of Caillou, turn on my podcasts and then I'm on my own.

With 700 lbs. of dirty laundry, of course.

The thing is, I don't really even mind emptying wastebaskets, folding laundry and scrubbing the kitchen floor. On a Monday morning, it's my time. (As opposed to Saturday family chore time which I know is important, but let's face it, can be agonizing.)

I sort my thoughts as I separate the darks and whites. I scrub a grubby corner of the pantry and let my mind tackle a tricky scheduling dilemma. I wipe fingerprints off the glass door and resolve to improve parenting mistakes. It's Monday! A fresh start!

I learned early in my stay-at-home career that it was best to keep Monday's AM calendar square relatively clear. No doctor's appointments, no swimming lessons, no obligations. The foundation I lay Monday morning sets the tone for the entire week. And if I can get my house pulled back together, I feel a whole lot better about me, too.

The dryer is beeping. Is there anything better than fresh, warm towels? Or is that just me?

Enjoy your Monday, friends!

Fifth Inning Musings

9:39 PM--I am sitting on the couch watching the World Series. Em is asleep next to me. Jake is foraging in the kitchen. He loves staying up on school nights and I am enjoying his company.

Brad is watching on the West Coast. It is weird to watch sports without him. Basically he serves as my own personal sportscaster. I can blog, read, plan my Seminary lesson, or sleep on the sofa and he'll keep me informed. I like his commentary and explanations. Also his snacks. Brad makes really delightful late night snacks.

I want the Phillies to win, but it's not looking good right now. And, let's face it, I haven't done anything for them this year. So how can I demand a championship? They owe me nothing.

I'm worried about Jake, though, he's taking this very personally.

It's fun to have a pre-teen in the house. Even though Jake's social development can be a little unpredictable, he is growing into a very typical young man physically and emotionally. Just a few centimeters behind me and with a mouthful of train tracks, the kid is every inch a tween.

Of course, I'm not crazy about the mood swings and I need to spend my entire clothing budget replacing all his high-waters. But it's fun to have a male presence, someone who knows all the Phillies' names and laughs at the goofy commercials.

I like watching sports with cute boys. And this one still lets me kiss him goodnight.

Go Phils!

Good News Thursday

1. We're off to the World Series. Again! Of course I didn't start watching the Phillies until this week. Of course I only know the names of two players. (The cute ones...duh!) Of course I fall asleep before the seventh inning every time. Still, deep in my heart, I'm a phanatic. Go Phils!
2. My husband will be in my time zone. For more than two days! October has been an experiment in single motherhood. Not a fan. Thankfully, he will be in town all next week to get me through the Halloween horror. I think we will still recognize each other.
3. Today litttle pumpkins. Tomorrow the Big Apple! How lucky I am to have my mother in town. She adds natural carbonation and sparkle to the everyday. This morning we're taking the twinkies to the local Scarecrow Festival. Tomorrow just the two of us leave for some new york minutes and a whole lot of Bloomingdales. Can't wait.
4. The health care crisis? I get it now! Although I'm late to the whole podcast revolution, I really really love it. My new fave is This American Life and this week I've been listening to their fascinating report on health care and insurance. Now I can stop nodding and pretending that I know what people are talking about. I feel smart.
5. I found the solution to holiday stress...leave town! Thanksgiving? Christmas? You don't scare me. I am going to let someone else do all the work. Turkey day in the middle of nowhere surrounded by my favorite li'l pilgrims. Christmas in t-shirts and flip-flops. I am actually looking forward to the festivities for a change.

What's your good news today?

Which Old Witch?

True confession. I have a witch who comes to visit me. Not just at Halloween, although she does seem particularly wicked this October. My personal witch comes on a very regular basis. A cyclical basis, if you know what I mean.

When she's in town, my children scurry around with slightly fearful looks on their faces. My husband tries to avoid eye contact and hides in his office as much as possible. He knows that an innocent "How's it going?" may result in foot stomping, drawer slamming, eye rolling and sarcastic exclamations.

It's not me. Promise. It's just that darn ol' witch. Does she come to your house too? Then maybe you know what I'm talking about.

I'm trying to embrace this evil enchantress. I want to know what makes her tick and how I can make her visit a little less harrowing. I'm learning slowly. Here's what I've discovered so far...

Aside from the obvious (swimsuit shopping and cross-country trips with small children), there are just certain events that should NOT be planned while Ms. Witch is in town:

1. Changing a fitted sheet on the top mattress of a bunk bed.
2. Looking between the sofa cushions in the family room. Ditto for children's closets, under beds and the third seat of the minivan.
3. Making German pancakes for breakfast. I don't care if you DO have an extra dozen eggs. It is just way too much effort for the dark lady and even the teeniest of negative comments from a child or spouse will trigger a witchy cold spell guaranteed to hover over the kitchen for the remainder of the day.
4. Listening to an eight-year-old's Party of the Year CD. Particularly Track 5--Cotton-eyed Joe.
5. Helping a fifth-grader with fractions and decimals.
6. Watching a husband pack for a four-day business trip. Unless, of course, you WANT to make it easier for him to leave. In that case, invite Witchy-poo to hop right in between the two of you on the bedspread. Oh! and encourage her to bring up the checking account.

On the other hand, Ms. Witch can be helpful in the following areas:

1. Expressing displeasure on the phone to the special-ed transportation department regarding a child's bus schedule or lack thereof.
2. Making killer desserts. She has a wicked sweet tooth.
3. Doing intense housework. Sometimes heartless rage can work in your favor.
4. Writing particularly whiny blog posts. Exhibit A. Exhibit B. Exhibit C.

This post is dedicated to the people who live with me and love me even when the witchlady comes to town. I think I owe them a killer dessert.