Say what???

Alright friends, I may have had a temporary lapse of sanity.
Remember way back, way way back in June when I ran that crazy race the Wasatch Back?
It was so much fun!
LoVeD iT!!
At that point in time I had every intention of running the Vegas Ragnar in October.
(The Vegas Ragnar that is a mere 10 short days away, p.s.)
I discovered I had a conflict and I had to back out.
My spot was filled- I took a very long running hiatus and went on with my life minus a training schedule.
Side note: My conflict was rescheduled last week and next weekend is now open. No matter, my spot was filled months ago and I haven't trained any way, right? Wrong.
Fast forward to yesterday when Amanda called me to say that 2 spots had opened up in her van and she wanted Jonathan and I to run with her.
That's Jonathan, my brother.
Jonathan, my brother who just ran the Top of Utah marathon with a finishing time of 3:30.
And me.
Me, who has done NO RUNNING WHAT SO EVER IN MONTHS!!!!!
So what was my answer?
After a few moments of humming and hahhing
"I'm in."
I'm doing this.
It would appear that I have lost my freaking mind!

Okay, so here's the low down.
I am runner number five on a team of twelve.
I have three legs to run.
First leg: 3.5 miles
Second leg: 3.6 miles
Third leg: 3.9 miles
None of these are a crazy far distance. But, I will be running them all within about a 30someodd (or less?) hour time frame, ugh. There are some hills involved too. My last leg is a gradual uphill the whole way.
I'm not gonna lie.....I'm sceered.

The good news is that I ran this morning and it was purty durn good.
Remember, I'm normally a ten-minute mile kind of a gal...when I have been running-which I haven't.
This morning I did three miles in....are you ready?....are you really ready?
Drum roll please...
28:59!
High fives all around!

And now lets have a moment of silence to pray for my poor decrepit body.
Let us pray that my legs will not collapse.
Let us pray that my lungs will not wheeze their last breath.
Let us pray that my heart will not explode out of my chest.
Let us pray that my 7 day training program (that I have yet to figure out) will suffice.
And finally, let us pray that if I do indeed die on this race that my head stone will read,
"See, I told you I was out of shape!"

But, if I don't die...I will get an awesome Saints & Sinners medal for running both the Wasatch and the Vegas Ragnar in the same year.
And that will be pretty cool.
:o)


That and I will live to see my 35th birthday.

Grant D-lish Birthday Bash.

"Photo shoot"
(and I use the term loosely considering my photography abilities and camera quality)
with the Birthday Boy went something like this...

Me: Grant, come out side with me, I want to take your picture.
Grant: I'm playing with my train tracks.
Me: Pleeaaasssee.
Grant: Okay.

Me: Smile for me, Grant.
Grant: Okay.

And he gives me this.




Me: Grant, smile for me Buddy!
Grant: Okay.

And he gives me this.




Me: Okay, smile for me...
Grant: Okay.....I see you Mom!

And he gives me this.




Me: Hey, is it your birthday today?
Grant: YES!
Me: Show me your birthday smile.
Grant: Okay.

And he gives me this.
Fake smile phase, here we come.

What a goofball!
He is, how ever, just about the cutest goofball I've ever seen.
I do adore my little man.
He was a really good decision.

The Twenty Minute Parent.

Introducing the new twenty minute parenting tactic. Mike and I have finally figured out how to parent perfectly. Twenty minutes at a time. This works especially well on Sundays when neither one of us wants to pull out all the stops and do it like the parent rock stars that we really are.

How did this system come about, you ask? While waiting for the potatoes to cook for dinner after church I was completely disgusted by the state of my house. Nine o'clock church is a tough one on a good day, it's a killer on a day we are slow to get moving. Normally I don't leave my house a mess.

(I know I'm nuts, but the thought of coming home to find that someone has broken in and then needing to leave the crime scene as is while we wait for the cops then needing to explain to them that it was already a disaster is just horrifying to me. I know, I have some really weird issues. But, don't you all appreciate my honesty?)

So...in my efforts to assure a nap for myself (which I also don't do well with the house a mess) I asked Mike for some help in rounding up the troops for a clean up before dinner. He was none too excited. Just give me twenty minutes, I said. Twenty minutes of good, solid, helpful parenting.
Then, tonight for bed time stuff/scripture reading routine--that Sunday laziness struck again, we didn't want to spend the next hour trying to get it done. Once again we decided that in twenty minutes time --if we put our hearts in it--we could read, pray and have every one on their way to bed.

That's when we realized we really might be on to something.
We feel that giving it our all for just twenty minutes at a time may be the answer to all our parenting quandaries.
The twenty minute parenting tactic.
It's genius!
Twenty minutes to perfect parenting.
Just twenty minutes, that's all we ask.


*Yes, we are available for parenting counseling classes if anyone is interested. I'm sure they will be filling up fast so be sure to reserve your spot early.


Your welcome.
:o)

Dear Blog Fairy,

Remember how you so kindly gave my dear old blog a face lift a while back? And oh, how I love it! Well, BF (can I call you that? i feel a real connection and so close to you now--it's almost like we are neighbors) I am still just loving the new look. But, I do have a request.....I would like to make a small change. And unfortunately, I'm not savvy enough to pull it off on my lonesome. Help me?

The change.
I would like to rename my blog. 'The Farmgirl Life...' remains the same because, hello? that's what I'm living. The change comes after that. 'such as it is.' replaced with 'knee deep and lovin' it.' What do you think? Possibility?

Here's the thing. My life isn't such as it is--it's such as I make it.
Cuz, let's face it folks...it's a pretty durn good life.

First of all, I'm paired with Mikey. He's just not so bad in my book. Yah, I love him. I always tell him he's my favorite husband I have ever had (he follows that with a roll of the eyes and says he's the only husband i've ever had). Point well taken. But, he's still my favorite. We are a good match.

Yes, it's true my children do make me a little nuts from time to time. I have five of them--it was bound to happen. They bring me way more joy than insanity (I hope I'm not speaking prematurely here-I suppose I could still end up in the loony bin before the last curtain call).

The gospel. Yup, it's true. Learned a fair amount about from whence my strength flows recently too. I do my part -He does His. It's a pretty good system.

And I have all of you. My peeps.

It's a busy, crazy life. Things have changed a lot since we have been in business for ourselves. I have learned a lot. The most important thing I have learned is that being happy is a choice. No matter what else is going on, I get to choose. Isn't that fantastic!?!

Since I have the whole husband, five kids, dog, cat, day care, house keeper, business owner, church goer, neighbor, friend, sister thing going on--I'm knee deep whether I like it or not.

But, I'm lovin' it because I want to.

M.O.C.C

Mothers Of Challenging Children
That's my new support group.

When you are the mother of a challenging child, you already know it.
No one needs to tell you.
Here's the thing (and I think it's pretty true for any mother) whatever you have to tell them about their kid-good or bad- your not gonna shock 'em.
Mom's know their kids better than any one else.
All the good, fantastic qualities and the not so fantastic qualities.
So there is really no need to go out of your way to point out the negative.
Leave that up to the professionals.
I am already very aware, thanks all the same.

I'm doing my very best with what I was given.
I'll try and make my lemonade and you make yours.
And how about instead of pouring salt in the mix- some one could just lend me the sugar?

Is this too brutally honest?
Mom's have feelings too, ya know.

Let's all adopt Thumper's mothers mantra, shall we:
If you don't have anything nice to say,
don't say anything at all.
Good advice for children.

And adults too.



*Okay, I feel slightly better- just needed to vent a little. It's just that, doggone-it, I love my little twerp! I know they aren't perfect. Believe me, I KNOW. I love all the crazy stories people tell me about my kids, because they are crazy--crazy funny. And it's just those kinds of stories that make me think we are gonna get through all this. Encouragement. That's what I need. So, if you have something positive to say, by all means, bring it on. No need to relay to me a laundry list of negative things my child said. That is in no way helpful to me. In fact, it causes me to be up at 2:30 in the AM. And that is just sick and wrong.

And p.s. for the record---challenging children are chock full of spunk, life and personality.
This particular child is Ah-MaZ-iNg!!
I love them all! And I wouldn't trade in a one of them. :o)

This is Farmgirl signing off,
And I am
Lucky ~and happy~ to be the Mom.

An observation.

But first, the back story.
I went out of town for the weekend, had a quick little get away to Preston where my brother was blessing his new sweet baby girl. I hadn't planned on attending. Mike is super busy and I didn't want to drive up by myself with the kiddos. Robyn had a trip to her mothers planned (minus children) and I bummed a ride with her. I took Grant with me so that Mike would be able to get some work done while I was gone.
A good time was had by all.
On to my observation. It is this:

Coming home after leaving Mike and the kids in charge for the weekend is what I would imagine coming home to my house after I was part of something like Wife Swap would feel like.

The house is clean....sort of. The laundry is done....in a bizarre way. Things are put away.....in weird places. Other things are out....that shouldn't be. Things just aren't.....so.

While I do appreciate their efforts and it is so nice of them all to give it the old college try, it's still a little strange to come home to. That's all I've got to say about that.



*and p.s. leaving mike every once in a while is fantastic job security for me. he told me if anything ever happened to me he would need to just give the children away because he could not do what i do. (so i guess you all should start picking out your favorites-just to be prepared-you know, in case the worst should happen) yup, that's what happens when you are as amazing as me. ;o)

Lend me your ear....

Because I have a little bit of something to say.
You all know me, right?
I'm not old, right?
While I am done having children...I could have more, right?
If I so desired.
(which I don't--but that is not the point here)
I mean, my body isn't ready to shut down.
It's true, I am rounding the corner towards thirty five.
But,
Women still have babies at thirty five---even older than that, right?
Yes, it would be a geriatric pregnancy.
But a pregnancy all the same.
And a healthy one at that!

So....

WHY DID I GET THIS IN THE MAIL?
Phase II??

Are you joking me?

It says, and I quote:
"Whatever the condition, we take care of your body,
so you can fully enjoy 'the second phase' of your life."

Did I miss something?
I'm sorry, did I turn 70 and not notice?
Second phase? SECOND PHASE!?!?!

Now, when they say 'the second phase' of my life it leads me to believe they think there are only just the two.
Ex-squeeze me??
Am I half way done here?
ME THINKS NOT!!

And just in case you think it was some kind of mass mailer....
it wasn't.

Yup, that's right.
Addressed to little ole me.
Farmgirl.
(BTW, Does this mean I'm gonna have to change my name to Farmlady or something?)

Well, friends...
That's it.

I'm off to take some Centrum and play a little shuffle board before the kids get home from school and have to change my depends.



Catch you on the flip side!
Oh, wait--
apparently I'm already there.

The Birthday Unspoken.

If...

I had given birth to a son 14 years ago today he might look something like this.

And he would probably be fantastic.
He would be a fabulous big brother.
He would adore his Dad.
He would be a huge help to me.
I imagine he would be a lot of fun to be around.
If only....

However,
I am not nearly that old, there is no possible way I could have a son who is a mere 2 years away from a drivers license and 5 years away from a mission.
That's just crazy talk right there.

But...if I did...
He would probably look just like this right before
blowing out his candles on this very night.
Uh huh, the candles that were lit with the help of this...
(cuz that's the way we roll 'round here)


Yay, and I am pretty sure the only Denial of ever heard of is the one in Egypt.
Because I am dealing with everything very rationally.

Since I am unable to discuss the birthday of this so-called boy of mine
maybe we should talk about something else.
How 'bout another birthday?
Like, say, one of the very best of the besties.
This girl right here.
Yup, she's my Top Robyn and I just loves her.

Okay, so she might be my daughter after all....

Audrey's first week of school was fantastic.
She was happy.
Yesterday and today....not so much.
Yesterday we talked for a while, she brushed her bruised little preteen ego self off and went out the door to play.
Today we talked for a while, she wasn't so much up for talking.
After a few minutes she turned to me and said, "Can I just go make a treat?"

That is so, so....Me.

I can't count the number of pans of Blondies I made during my teenage years.
Honestly, probably nearing the thousands.
It's hard to wrap my brain around the amount of ingredients my mom so willingly let me use.
Now, of course I do love me some fresh from the oven goodness.
Who doesn't? But...
It was the whole baking process that I loved just as much as the consumption.
After a frustrating day with friends and school and everything else; knowing that two sticks of butter + two eggs + all the other ingredients = something I can count on to turn out right was a life saver. A control freak's dream come true.

Not much has changed.
I still love that.
I love knowing what I am doing, making the tried and true.
I love the memories that making the oldies but goodies conjures up.
I love the smell of fresh baked goodies in my house.
I love that treats (or any delicious eatables) make my family happy.
I love that I can change not just my own mood, but others too.
I love taking care of my brood.
I love that sometimes an audible sigh escapes my lips just from putting my apron over my head.

Okay, it's true...I am a little crazy. At least that's what I am thinking writing all this. I guess the bottom line here is a confession that my house, and the kitchen in particular, is all the therapy I think I will ever need. And I suppose if my girlie follows in my foot steps that wouldn't be such a bad thing either.

The key, I've learned is a big family. I came from a big family and I have a ~sorta~ big family. You really have to keep the numbers up so you don't end up eating completely everything all by your lonesome.

Or, in Audrey's case, having your mother eat it all.
:o)

Correction. Again.

For the Love!!
So, believe it or not we are changing the fugitive game.
....Again!
I am sorely regretting the day I announced this little shin dig on my blog.
This time it's Mark that will be out of town.
How could we party without Mark?
Considering the fact that it is his house and he is a barrel-O-fun, it is completely inconceivable.
Therefore, we be switching it up.
Saturday night. 8:30. The Weston's.
I surely am hoping a few of you adventurous souls will still join us.



*If we need to change it again, I will be far too embarrassed to post it here.
Instead, I will be standing in the Weston's drive way handing out cinnamon rolls and cookies.
Buying friendship and forgiveness.