The blessings of Poverty.

First of all let me share with you what Wikipedia has to say about Poverty.

Poverty is the state of one who lacks a certain 
amount of material possessions or money.

According to good old Wik, I think we may qualify.  We've been here for a while.  Things have ebbed and flowed a bit over the last four years, but we have definitely 'lacked a certain amount of material possessions or money' since we lost Mike's full time employment.

While this has been hard -really hard- it's also been good -really good.  The difference between wants and needs is crystal clear, and honestly most things are wants.  And, yes, you will survive without them.  When I think about all the things my kids don't have and don't do and all the things we don't do and we don't have I have often wondered...if I had the resources to do all sorts of stuff, would I have the wisdom to choose wisely?  I think at this point the answer is Yes, at least I hope I would.  Really, the greatest tragedy in life is to have the experience and miss the lesson.

And, WoW, have we learned some lessons.  I've always known I have some pretty great punks.  Hello?  Who doesn't know that?  Well, for FHE last night Mike was giving the lesson and he decided to talk to the kiddies about money.  More specifically about what to do with money when it comes to you...like our tax return.  It will be a pretty big sum of money (by our standards) so he wanted to show them how he and I figure out what to do with it.  So we made a list.  *Little disclaimer here, the kids weren't deciding anything, this was just a way to show them how it's done.  Decisions are up to us.*  He told them we would make a list of all the things we would like to do with that money, he got out the old white board and they started calling out items.  Here's the great part, the really amazing part...

First on the list was give to the mission fund in our ward.  Next was give to Adam's mission fund (a while back Adam was feeling overwhelmed thinking about affording his mission, so we told him if he could just try to earn the money to prepare--suits, clothes, ect--we would worry about keeping him out in the mission field).  Next was fix the door handles on Mike's truck--bare in mind that this is the driver handle, not the passenger--where they ride.  (The back driver's seat handle is broken on the suburban, but they decided we didn't need to spend money on that--it could wait even though it is them that it inconveniences).  They did put a bigger TV for downstairs on the list, but removed it when we told them that if we saved up we could buy one for half the price on Black Friday.  These are just a few of the things they thought of.

And when I asked if there was anything they wanted just for them, something they needed or just for fun the answers were a new viola bow, milking boots, socks and pudding snacks.

Amazing, right?  I have really great punks.  I know it's been a hard, long road for them too, but they DO NOT complain about it.  Ever.  I'm just really blessed and awfully lucky.

*Just to be clear here: I'm not writing this to get a 'poor me' line of thinking going, nor am I judging what is a want or need for someone else.

I'm writing this to share with the world that in the midst of  hard things,
really good things can come about.

**And to brag on my stinkin' awesome, super amazing cute punks.

:o)  Peace Out.

A Novel Idea.

My friends, I'm afraid I've been thinking...a dangerous pass time...I know.
In the midst of my thinking I had this thought,

"What if I ate only when I am hungry?"

Crazy, right?  Here's the story that prompted this line of thinking:
I was cleaning up dinner the other night and there was a little bit of something
(I honestly can't remember what) left and I asked Mike if he wanted it---he declined, said he was full, said he wasn't hungry any more.

Here's the thing...if Mike didn't want it I was planning on eating it. 
I wasn't hungry any more either, I was full. 
But it tasted good. 
So I was going to eat it. 
Which I did. 
And that got me started thinking about eating.
I don't think I eat because I'm hungry very often.

I eat because it's there and I'm there.  I eat because it tastes good. 
I eat when I'm happy.  I eat when I'm not happy.  I eat when I'm bored. 
I eat when I'm frazzled and frustrated.

So...
What if I ate only when I am hungry?
It's kind of a game changer.  A novel idea, really.

Now, I'm not saying this is my plan from here on out.  Let's be reasonable. 
I don't see myself doing that.
But, what if I did it some times?
What if I took time to think about why I'm eating if it's not because I'm hungry?
I've openly admitted to being an emotional eater.
...and btw it doesn't really matter what the emotion is.

What if I got a drink and dealt with the emotion instead of feeding it?
Maybe that means I write more, maybe that means I read more.
Maybe that means I just drink a whole lot more water.

I don't know, but I've been thinking about it.
Maybe I'll give it a whirl??

Chocolates 2012

Okey doke...here we go.   

Lesson learned...big people in the back, even in a self portrait.

Have I mentioned my mom is a tiny lady and I look like a giant next to her?

No?  Well she is and I do.

anyhoo...

 So, she's the candy maker.

 Like this.

Then we pour it out.

Like this.

And I was the candy beater, well when I was there..
as you can tell by my lovely attire I still had to go to work.
I know, hardly fair.  Chocolates should be a national holiday.

Chocolate dipping.

 Yum, warm melted goodness.
See all those hands?

That's the help.

 We have really cute assistants.

Some of the finished product.

 

 

Even when we "cut back" there's still a lot.

Mmmm...finger lickin' good.

Don't worry, I was done for the day.
;o)

Chocolates 2012.

A tasty thing.

Fun in the Sun.

Okay, so sure it was only 5 degrees above zero, and sure we waited until afternoon for it to even be that...but the sun was shining.  Therefore I am naming this post "Fun in the Sun".

It's funny how warped your sense of temperature gets in extremes.  It's like when we lived in the St. G and it would only be 97* and I'd gather up the kiddies and head to the park.  That's not normal.  Or really a great idea, but when it's down from 112*...eh, 97* seems real nice. 

And when it's up from -20
(that's right, negative 20 as in, 20 below zero as in, here's zero go 20 degrees less than that and that's what the temperature is, -20) 

...eh, 5* seems real nice.

There it was a balmy 5* Saturday afternoon so we decided to try out the ice skating pond.  The ice skating pond is a creek, Worm Creek to be exact, that runs through my dad's farmland.  When it gets cold enough (and -20 qualifies as cold enough) it freezes over solid as a rock and ~voila~ ice skating pond.

Most of the kids were old pros, this was a first for my little ladies.  There wasn't enough skates to go around so they had to take some turns.  Goose used to have a pair of roller blades so she caught on really quick.

 For Elsie, it was a bit more of a challenge.

 At first she was holding on to her sister for dear life.

 She took more than a couple of falls.

 But with a little help from the crowd...

Eventually, she prevailed. 

Sometimes you just gotta help a sista out.

Aunt Natalie and Grandma enjoying the fun.

Grandma sporting her super warm and toasty circa 1983 coat and super cute hat..

frankly, I'm a little jealous of both.

 Some of the little ones just got pulled around the ice on the sled,

oh wait---(that's me)---apparently some of the big ones too.

But, hey, when you have a sherpa brother willing to pull you with the kiddies--

you jump right on!

There were a few other activities going on as well...

Like discovering an ancient tractor buried in the snow to ride on.

And there was some sledding to be done. 

Unfortunately, the end of the run happened to be on the ice.

Not a very soft landing.

As demonstrated by Grant and William.

We even got a little fire going.

Me & My Boy.

I assure you Mr. Grant Delish was smiling under there.

It was a fun afternoon.

And, yes, it was a might bit chilly. 

(frozen hair to prove it)

But we stayed and enjoyed it as long as possible.

A good time was had by all.

Here comes the Sun.

I know I already posted this picture, but it is fitting for the day.
Happy winter solstice.

And for how I have been feeling.

Here comes the sun 
Here comes the sun, and I say  
It's all right
Little darling 
It's been a long, cold lonely winter 
Little darling 
It feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun  
Here comes the sun, and I say 
It's all right
Little darling  
The smiles returning to the faces 
Little darling 
It seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun 
Here comes the sun, and I say 
It's all right
Little darling I feel that ice is slowly melting  
Little darling  
It seems like years since it's been clear
Here comes the sun  
Here comes the sun, and I say  
It's all right
Here comes the sun  
Here comes the sun  
It's all right  
It's all right

This Holiday season has not been so bad.  I don't know if I was expecting the worst and so anything above that feels fantastic or if it really has been better...but I do know it has a whole lot to do with me. 

Something somewhere, sometime changed.  The change was me.  I changed me.  And changing me changed everything. A bit of a domino effect, I guess.  
And before I knew it--well, 
Little darling Here comes the sun and I say, It's alright.  
And by saying "before I knew it" what I mean is "several years later".
And by saying "I changed me" what I mean is "with a lot of help and support I was able to get a few things through my thick skull".

Life is still not exactly what I would hope for it to be.  Mike and I are still both working part time and filling in the gaps where ever we can.  The punks still drive me crazy.  Every so often I'm pretty sure if the gypsies came through town I would be tempted to sell a child or two.

But, you know what?  We're okay.  
We are happy and healthy and all here together. 
(which is so much more than some families will get to have this Christmas)  

So, I will take it.  I will take the chaos.   
And the scrimping and scrambling.  I will take the fits and the fighting.
I will take the craziness and the complaining.  
I will take the smiles and the tears.

I don't really know why I've been given this particular row to hoe, 
I don't know why you've been given yours.
And I don't know why our parallel rows are so different, 
the ground seems so much harder for some. 
I do know that I'm a hoe to the end of the row kinda gal. 
And so are my peeps. 
I know that hard work and determination make me happy.  
And so does chocolate.
I know that It's alright...or that it will be. 
And I know that if I'm not where I'm at, I'm no where. 
So here I am...and there you are. 

And, look....Here comes the Sun. 

Nicely done.

This is how we do sunrise on a cold winter morning in Idaho.

Beautiful.

And Brrrr, I might add.

I ventured out in my jammies to snag this pic.

Your welcome.

p.s.

chocolates 2013 coming soon.

My running buddy.

I've only had one.  I've had walking buddies and I've had run/walking buddies, but I've only had one running buddy.  She was the running buddy instigator.  I had never run with a buddy (other than Mike, and he doesn't count because he's obligated to go my pace and not complain)  and I was nervous that she would dust me, honestly--I'm sure she could of.  But she didn't, she was happy to have someone to run with and I was happy to have someone who wanted to run with me.  It was a great match...right up until I moved.  But even since then when we went back down to visit she and I covered some great miles.

Living in St. George running was pretty much a year round activity- so every Monday, Wednesday and Friday early morning we would meet to pound the pavement and cover the miles.  I've always said exercise with a friend is just as beneficial for my mental well being as it is for my physical health, if not more.  It's like a therapy session three times a week.  The best part is the visiting--minus interruption.  No phones, no kids, no worries.  Just time to visit.  That's what we did.  Lots of miles, lots of great conversation--mostly about our kids and families.  Cuz you know, we're just your regular Mormon moms...family is our life.

I love this lady.  We are kindred spirits.  We are about the same age, same number of kids that roughly line up in age and we are both just kind of low maintenance, simple gals.  In fact, she kind of took over my job of being the 'grounder' for Robyn when I left the St. G.  Her son Dallin filled the playmate spot for Robyn's son Gil that Grant left vacant.  I just really like her, she's good people.

But, you know what?  Bad things happen to good people.  And it truly sucks.  My running buddy Karin lost her sweet 15 year old daughter Whitney 5 days ago in a tragic accident.

I am in Idaho, but my heart is in Santa Clara.
It doesn't seem right or real or fair.  And I am just so heart broken for her.
My running buddy has to bury a child.  We aren't suppose to do that.  We are regular moms, remember?
Whitney's a regular girl.  A great girl, but a regular great girl.  She should be here.
It's maddening.
It doesn't seem okay, but it will be.
I know it will be.

Other than a constant prayer in my heart for Karin and her family the only thing I can think to do is love my own little punks just a little bit better.  Hug them all just a little bit longer.  Take time to see them, really see them.  Make time to listen, laugh and love just a little bit more.

The race is not always to the swift, but to those who keep on running.

One really good, productive day.

This is what I mumbled to myself as I drifted off to slumber land last night, all I need is one really good productive day.

One really good productive day and I could get my windows cleaned.
One really good productive day and I could deep clean the bathrooms.
One really good productive day and I could whip this house into shape.
One really good productive day and I could get my yard ready for fall.
(who has two thumbs and said a silent prayer of thanks for the frost that finally
 killed latest and greatest source of guilt--the garden?  THIS GIRL!!)
One really good productive day and I could change my decor to match the season.
One really good productive day and I could organsize many a space.
One really good productive day could change my world...
or so it would seem.

Hmmm, now to find the time and more importantly the motivation to make it all happen.

Step one:
Don't blog while waiting for the brownies you promised the YW you'd bring to volleyball tonight to bake.
Clean instead.  Duh.  That's a no brainer.

Farmboy

Mr. Grant D goes to school two days a week, all day.  On his days off he likes to spend as much time as possible in a tractor/farm implement of any description.
This morning shortly after the kids left for school he was ready to jump on his bike and head down to Grandma's to see what farm work needed to be done today.
I stopped him and asked him if he thought I should just keep him here with me so I wouldn't miss him too much while he was gone.

He said, "How about I give you a hug and then why don't you just take a picture of me and you can look at it if you get lonely."
Smart kid, so that's what we did.

With my mad baking skills I have won over many a child's heart,
but dang-it-all I cannot compete with Grandpa's farm!
Not in this kid's eyes at any rate.

New shoes?

Are there really women out there who go to work for a new pair of shoes??
....for themselves none the less???
Someone said this to me a few weeks before I started my job.
She said, and I quote, "Ohhh...a lunch lady, won't that be nice?  Extra money's always nice...you can get stuff for yourself, you could buy your self a new pair of shoes."
To be fair I should say that this lady probably didn't know what else to say to me, nor was she the first person to say this sort of thing to me.

Bare in mind this is not the first time I've brought in another source of income for our family.  My jobs have not been glamorous: cleaning houses, babysitting, web writing (okay so that doesn't have the same negative connotation) and lunch lady.
Not exactly fancy shmancy.
Never have I done it for a new pair of shoes.  That's ridiculous.

I've lived in the trenches, People.  I was in baby/toddler world for a long time.  I remember the days of multiple diaper changing, peed in pants, poopy undies, babies needing to be fed, burped, cuddled and snuggled.  I remember the snack fixing the crying, whining, fighting, and fussing.  I remember the bedtime 'thank the Heavens above I made it through another day' nightly sigh of relief.

I dare you to find me a mother that hasn't thought to herself in the midst of all this fantastic mothering,
"One day they will all be in school. One day all of these fabulous little people I have birthed from my body and by the sweat of my brow have loved and cared for every day will all be in school and I will no longer need to sneak a cookie, lock myself in the closet, gobble it down and then take 10 deep breathes before facing the natives."

Now, I suppose I can't speak for everyone--but as for me--I did not finish up that thought with "...and then I will leave my house and get a job."  Hello?  I'm like the poster child for the Suzie Homemaker Club. 
No.
The grand idea was to actually be alone.
At home.

Don't get me wrong, I still love my job.  I actually haven't hated any of the jobs I have done.  Okay, okay I kind of had a while when I pretty much hated doing day care, but for the most part I try to enjoy what ever I am doing.
You know, capre diem and all that crap.

I'm just saying, let's all try not to say stupid things.
I know, it happens to the best of us....

And here I am still doing everything I do for the little punks I raised from pups...I remember reading something about "Mother ducks pick feathers from their chests to line their nest".  Did you catch that?  "Mother ducks pick feathers from their chest to line their nest".  Did you know that?  Those mother ducks don't go picking up the strings and scraps where ever they can find them, they give their babies the very best they can.  I'm sure it hurts a little sometimes plucking out the best, softest feathers they have...but they do it any way. 
And so do I.
Here's to my punk duckies, I offer you the very best of me.

p.s.

i'm fully aware my posts

are seeming somewhat random,

even for me.

and that's saying something.