Angelanette.

(See the resemblance?  You're supposed to be laughing!)

I'm going through an identity crisis. 

Ben and I watched SALT on Friday.  Have you seen it?  Angelina Jolie's latest female Bond-like film.  I may not agree with all of her life choices, but DANG, that woman has skills!

I want skills, too.  I want to jump from truck to truck on the freeway, I want to take off on a bullet bike, I want to scale a wall twelve stories up, I want to save the President and the world, I want to be a martial-arts-street-fighting guru, oh, and a super-sweet body wouldn't hurt (wait, heh, that might be asking too much).  Try to look past the selfishness of all those "wants."  It's more the spirit of them, than the actual experience itself.

Now, how to motherhood-ize these skills to benefit my family?  Jumping from car to car in the parking lot of the grocery store?  A little kung-fu with the bully on the playground?  Imagine that?! 

Not that I want to put my life in danger every day, but I want the spirit of adventure.  I want to be daring, edgy, tough, but, equally nurturing, gentle, wise, and stable.  Is that possible or am I kidding myself?  How do all those fit together?

I figure God needs all kinds of women in this world.  I'll have to trust that He'll make me into what I need to be, sexy bod or no, kung-fu or no.  I may never (who am I kidding, will never) save the President, but if I can raise my kids to contribute to the world, to be loving, devoted fathers and a purposeful, articulate mother, well, that's the Skill of all skills.  I'll leave the saving to Angelina, any day. 

All that being said, I'm content as a mother who lives her extremely adventurous Angelina-ish life vicariously through books and movies (until the kids get older, then watch out! ).  Every once in a while I just get the edgy-itch, that's all.  It'll mellow in a day or two and I'll rejoice in the adventures of getting three kids off to school, hair combed, teeth brushed, homework signed, faces smiling, without missing the bus!  That's what I call skill.

Update: I read this post again this morning and got to thinking.  Being a mother, raising children to be good, Christ-centered, faithful, honest, hard-working, kind individuals is a battle.  An extreme adventure.  There are so many things pulling them away from God, from goodness.  The skills I need aren't physical skills, but spiritual skills--just as intense as the physical, if not more.  Spiritual Angelina Jolie-ness.  This is why we're here, to prove our faithfulness to God, to always remember that He is our Father, that He loves us and knows what's best.  That He can make more of our lives than we ever could on our own.  That wickedness never was happiness, and never will be.  Teaching my children to get these truths secured in their hearts is not a passive job.  It's a spiritual marathon . . . 

Okay, that feels better.  My thoughts evolved into something meaningful, purposeful.  Now I don't have to keep stewing about this.  Occasionally my blog becomes Personal Therapy 101! 

Update #2: There's more.  My friend just sent me a quote that puts it all in perspective.  Thank heavens for friends (Thanks, Melanie).  Here it is:

"I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble."  Helen Keller. 

The everydays of my motherhood adventure are a collection of small tasks that, in the end, add up to something great and noble, yet as I go through them it's so easy to lose sight of that!  I think I can, I think I can, I think I can . . .

Gratitude Week #3

Brigham had to make an ecosystem for school.  Granted these kinds of projects are fun when they're not due the NEXT day (will we ever figure out how NOT to do that?) !  Poor first-born children.  I'm so glad I was the youngest.  My parents had been through everything four times before it was my turn.  They had it all figured out, for the most part.  Consider me uber-grateful that Brig finished this at 10 p.m. last night, phew. 

Now, on to the list:

1. Honest kids.  Brigham was "falsely accused" of a crime involving snow and another kid's face.  He was called to the principal's office for judgement.  Thankfully, the accuser admitted, "No, it wasn't Brigham..."  After an apology from the principal, Brigham went back to class.  Here's a little (very impressive) note from the accuser that I found in Brig's backpack:

Dear Brigham,

I'm sorry that I made up that story about you.  I'm really sorry.  Will you forgive me?  I won't do anything like that to get you in trouble.

Love,
Talin

(below the words, the little guy drew a funny picture of a meatball flying through the air hitting a girl in the face.  It was all labeled.  "giant meatball," "girl," "BAM."  Cute, huh?  Smoothing things over with a girl-joke.)

2. Early Bedtime.  Except for Wednesday night, I went to bed at 9:00 every night.  This is not normal for myself.  But, I'm here to testify that it was DREAMY.  Getting enough sleep DOES make a difference.  I'm glad I'm the first person EVER to make that discovery.  Call me a genius.

3. Gerald Lund's newest book, Divine Signatures.  All I can say is, READ IT.  A feast for the spirit.

4. Meal Planning.  I'd taken a several-week hiatus from planning my meals.  I'm back on track.  Dinners are better, more nutritous, low stress, fewer meltdowns from the kids beforehand, and I never have to waste hour after hour wondering, "What am I going to make for dinner?" only to realize that I'd wasted so much time that my only option is cereal.

5. The ELF system at the library.  We took the cub scouts on a library tour this week.  I learned that I can link all of my childrens' library cards to my own.  I receive notifications for everyone, instead of always having late fees because I'm unawares of my children covertly checking-out books.

6. Friends.  I had book club this week.  I didn't realize how much I needed to visit with other women until that night.  It felt so good.  Ben is my BFF, but I sure need gal-pals, too.

7. Razor.  I don't know about you, but I don't shave very often during the winter.  I need all the extra warmth I can get, and who, besides Ben, sees them during the winter, anyway?  However, I LOVE the feeling of smooth legs (especially when I can pretend I don't have varicose veins on my right leg).  Okay, don't think I sit at home stroking my calves, but seriously, legs are cuter when they're shaved.  I'd have to say the same about armpits.  Not to worry, I DO regularly shave those.

8. Fruit Smoothie.  I buy the frozen fruit mix at Sam's that has peaches, mangos, pineapple, and strawberries.  Throw it in the blender with a little O.J. and voila, instant ambrosia!

9.  Lastly, have you checked out nienie's post today?  I watched it this morning, shed a few happy tears and moved on with my day.  I loved the song that went along with the video.

Have a wonderful weekend!

If You're Happy and You Know it.

I'd call this excitement-for-school personified, OR . . . a race to the death.  I'm choosing to believe that they are enamored with their schooling experience.  School is happy: the smells, the friends, the bright colors, the lunch ladies, the principal (I have a little crush on him.  Not to worry, Ben is the guy for me).

For book club we just read The Happiness Project (click) by Gretchen Rubin.  You should check it out, or buy your own copy.  It was a smart, insightful, practical, witty, thought-provoking, really great read.  She's a thrity-something mother/writer who spent a year, focusing on a topic every month that, if improved upon, would maximize her happiness (like energy-boosting, marriage, friends, money, etc.).  The reader goes on her journey with her.  The interesting part is this: so much of her heavily researched data is nothing new.  We know that certain things are good, or right.  I'm sure she was a research maniac because she's a scholarly type (lawyer-turned-writer), and to give credibility to her project for publishing purposes.  She was candid and offered her ideas in a fresh way, so you had to keep reading. 

I'm inspired.  You may say to yourself, "I'm already happy!"  That's great, I am too, but one thing the author learned was that the most fulfilling form of happiness came from growth.  You can't argue that there is ALWAYS room for growth.  Her quest was to maximize the happiness already in her life, something all of us can do.  Seriously, you should read it.  For you organized, heavily-structured sort of people who love systems and measured results, you would eat out of her hand.

 I sound like the Happiness Project spokeswoman, don't I?  Do what you want, but if you're looking for an interesting read, give it a try.  I'd be interested to hear what you think.

Have a hap-hap happy day.  I know I will (dinner at Mom's tonight).

On Second Thought.

Maybe giving my sweet Lincoln boxing gloves for his birthday WITHOUT a punching bag wasn't such a good idea.

La Moustache.

(Never mess with a girl with a gun . . . or a moustache, for that matter.)

Hmm. 

Well. 

I'm not quite sure how to feel about this, except . . . I almost wet my pants.  Too much information?  Truth is truth, and YOU might almost wet your pants, too (probably more so, if you had been there)!

In my favor, I'm proud of the fact that I don't take myself too seriously, or else this may have caused a week in bed with depression, along with an appointment to a salon for some permanent hair removal.

Is all this a little vague?  Allow me to clarify:

Picture me, Sunday morning, sitting in front of my bathroom mirror beautifying myself for church.  (Just so you know, I DID feel beautiful yesterday, all unfortunate remarks aside).  The kids get dressed in our room because that's where we iron church clothes.  Anyway, we're all prepping away and Will joins me in the bathroom.  Are you ready?  Here it goes.  Will says, in all innocence (dang it),

"Mom, are you growing a MOUSTACHE?"

WHAT?  Are you kidding?  I didn't quite know how to respond.  He was so sincere.  However, I cried/laughed, it was so funny.  We settled down after a bit and Ben says to me,

"Well, Netty, I love a woman with a little facial hair." 

Nice one, Honey.  Not so funny.  Oh, who am I kidding, it was hilarious!

Ahh, the innocence of childhood. 
Ahh, the brutal honesty of childhood. 
THIS is what keeps me humble (I'm not kidding). 
THIS is what keeps me smiling, in spite of it all.
THIS is something I'm sure I'll never forget.   

FYI: I don't think I'm going to do anything about this situation.  Upon close examination, I still feel pretty secure in my "facial hair," or the unobtrusiveness of it, anyway.   Facial hair is sexy, it's a new trend, trust me.

Gratitude Week #2

I'm going to ask you to trick yourself into believing that it's still Friday (because of my every, ahem, Friday gratitude post).  Powers of the mind can be very convincing (believe me, I watched INCEPTION last night, and, whoa, talk about powers of the mind...).

I dug deep this week.  Sickness likes to push gratitude to the backseat.  But there is ALWAYS something to be grateful for:

1.  Long-distance Friends.  My closest friends live hundreds of miles away.  Phone friends.  Dear phone friends.  We've had years to cultivate our friendship, but have moved over the years.  The kind who when you've forgotten who you are, remind you just by talking about random, everyday-sort of things.  The kind who can hear you say irrational and sometimes awful things that you don't really mean (but maybe you do, for a second, anyway) and won't judge you.  In fact, they love you all the more and know you'll move on or overcome what's challenging you.  They see all the goodness in you, even when you can't.  I love you.

2.  Mother.  A mom who'll still let me be an eight year-old little girl who stayed home sick from school.  There's something so completely wonderful about being taken care of by Mom.

3.  POST Selects Great Grains with crunchy pecans.  Oh, my favorite cereal ever.  Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

4.  Warming Rice bag (that's actually a corn bag).  In the olden days they used warming stones.  I use a bag of feed.  Some special kind of corn, I can't remember.   My roomate (Brenda, xoxo) taught us how to make these bags my sophomore year of college and I STILL use it.  Warmth makes me happy.

5.  Children.  I've had a lot of sympathy from my kids this week.  My favorite: the gentle hand strokings along my cheek, lovingly offered from every child.  So tender.

6.  A Shower.  Every day this week I've used ALL the hot water in the house for my showers.  I'm not completely selfish, I do wait for Ben and the kids to use their share first.  I like my skin to turn pink.  Our water heater is a little ghetto, circa '97, I think, so it's probably on it's last leg, anyway.  I'm hoping that I can' wear out our heater faster so we can get a Rinnai water heater.  Dreamy.

7.  The Sun.  Every day, except today (Saturday that's really Friday, remember), the sun has shined!  Glory, glory, hallelujah!  I was walking out of the grocery story with Annie yesterday and mumbled to myself, "Oh, blessed sunshine."  The lady behind me said, "Tell me about it."

8.  God.  He led me to read something I not only needed to read this week, but WANTED to read.  Comfort and gentle reminders of His love for me, little old me.

9.  Friends nearby.  My sweet friend, my pregnant friend, brought our family dinner this week.  Homeade chili, homeade bread, heart-shaped sugar cookies.  I'm am always touched by people who give so freely, lovingly, humbly, when they have just as much reason, if not more, to have a service rendered to them.  Thank you, Kellie.

10.  Lincoln.  Most important of all, on a beautiful February 19, 2005, in sunny Arizona, Lincoln was born.

Definately a week of gratitude.  I'm learning that every week can be a week of gratitude, if I'm aware.

The Lounging Observer.

I've been down for the count for a few days.

My only solution to counteract the symptoms is sleep.  I've slept a lot these days which is hard because when its time for bed, sleep evades me.  Go figure.  I lay in my bed last night listening to the lilac bushes brush against our siding because our bed sits against that same wall.  I wasted about thirty minutes wishing those lilacs were in bloom. (There's NOTHING like the smell of lilacs in Spring.) 

Ben leaves for work early, early in the morning, and after he left, Lincoln and Will climbed into bed with me.  I listened to them laughing in their sleep (I love it when they do that) and one of them kept saying, "Jellybeans, jellybeans...."  It was hilarious.  At least somebody's happy, right?

I was still in bed while they were eating breakfast before school.  Will kept singing Sinatra, of all people.  "Come fly with me, let's float down to Peru . . ."  He actually stayed on tune.  That song makes me happy (and a little wishful that I was in Peru right now).  Most Sinatra songs do.  RANDOM ASIDE: It's moments like that when I regret not singing with the Jazz band in high school.  I was too caught up in being "cool"--I now understand how relative that term is--to sing with the band.  But looking back with regret doesn't help anything, ever, so I'm moving on (honestly, I haven't lost any sleep over that, it's just a passing thought every once in a while).

I've learned something whilst assuming the role of "lounging observer" in my own home:

I do so much for my kids, too much even, when they are capable of doing so much more.  I realized this especially in the morning.  I always make a big breakfast, something I grew up with and loved, and remind, remind, remind the kids to stay on task, get their shoes on, brush their teeth, hair, watch for the bus, get their library books, etc.  (In Brigham's defense, he is exempt from all this.  He is ALWAYS ready, always prompt.)  

When they know I won't pick up the slack for them (like now, being sick), they step up.  They can.  And I think they feel somewhat empowered when Mom doesn't save them all the time.  I guess I struggle with finding that balance because I love them and want to do things for them, to help them.  But how much should I do, or not do?  That's what I'm learning, or, that's what my eyes are open to now.  I'm excited to see how our house evolves because of this, how we become better.  I think this is positive change in the making.

Now, if I could just get out of bed . . .

My Valentine.

How do I love Ben, let me count the ways:

1. He turns into a crepe connoisseur on Saturday mornings.

2. He bursts out AC/DC songs at random, memories from high school football days.

3. He puts toothpaste on my toothbrush every morning before he leaves for work.

4. He's so proud of me when I beat him at games.  (If you knew how serious he takes his gaming, you would understand.  I, of course, always say he let me beat him.  It's a win-win situation.  If he's nice about losing, he thinks I'll play more.)

5. When I ask him to do something (i.e. house stuff, hang pictures, etc.) it always gets done THAT day.

6. Our entire marriage, I have NEVER seen Ben miss a day saying his morning prayers.  I've even feigned sleep just to test him, but he still does.  (I can't say the same about me.)

7. He writes me love notes.  He's a horrible speller and I'm a meticulous speller, which makes them even more endearing.

8. He's a straight arrow.  Right and wrong are clear to him.

9. He tries so hard to praise me, build me up, because he knows it's my love language.  Ben is not a vocal expresser of love, so this takes real effort on his part. 

10. He can always make me laugh, even when I don't want to.  Especially when I'm mad . . . at him.

A Day. A [really] Great Day.

Today was an awesome day [swimsuits and snow included].

And we were HOME all day, together, everyone, all 6 of us.
Peace reigned, which is somewhat miraculous considering my three lively and sweet boys.  I don't know about you, most days we have our little rough patches [or major rough patches, depending].  We're normal.  Whoa, boy, not so today!  I had my little taste of heaven on earth and it was DELISH.   
Our sunset bathed the land around our house in a beautiful pink.  Imagine a world of pink snow.  The interior of our house took on a pinkish hue.  It was beautiful.

I had a day of joy.  Thankfully.  As you know, winter is tough for me.  It never was until I moved to Idaho.  Winter is LONG in Idaho. 

I had a glimmer of spring as we drove the four-wheeler down the road and bits of green grass were poking up beneath huge pines where the snow had melted.

There's my hope.

Life is happening under all this white . . . or pink.

Someday, months away, all this life will burst forth!  ("June is busting out all oh-o-ver!")
On that day, I will be the happiest person on the planet! 

And that's no hyperbole, folks.

60 Toes is Grateful.

I'm going to try something new on 60 Toes. 

In an effort to remind myself that I have many, many things for which to be grateful, I'm devoting Friday posts to this:  what things each week have caused me to give thanks.  I know that there will always be too many to list.  This seems to be the case once you start thinking about your blessings.

1.  Neutrogena concealer and Maybelline bronzer.  Some people are natural beauties.  I'm not [not that I think I'm ugly either.  It's just the truth].  Someone once said, "Even a barn looks better with a fresh coat of paint."  I think I've thanked God every day this week for make-up.  I'm so grateful that we've come so far that make-up is not only for the saloon-gals!

2.  A kind and good husband.  Often I don't realize just how much he wants to please me, to love me, to make me happy.  This is the result of my being the more selfish partner, not because he isn't constantly doing those things.  He is!  I expect to be doted on [aggghh, I hate to admit that].  I think his heart is bigger than mine and his love is deeper.  I love him, too, so much.  I just consider him the way better half.  [For example, remember my Mr. Darcy post two days ago?  Ben left me a note this morning before leaving for work, "Love ya tons.  Eventhough I can't live up to Darcy, I will try.  I do think I would look better than him in a frockcoat and knickers...."].  Good guy.  'Nuf said.

3.  Bright colored socks.  I bought a bunch of PUMA socks at TJ Maxx a while ago.  BRIGHT COLORS!  I've never bought colored socks before.  I love them.  They are happy even when the sun isn't shining.  I need all the help I can get to make it through winter.

4.  God.  Father in Heaven always leads me to read things that I need to read, right when I need to read them most . . . even when I don't WANT to read what I NEED to read.

5.  Scarves.  Nothing livens up an outfit like accessories.  I've slowly acquired lots of scarves, belts, and other treasures to give my clothes a spark.  I love that they make me feel cute, in-style, warm.  Sometimes my scarf was the only thing keeping me positive about how I looked that day.

6.  A Friend.  I have many friends.  However, I was invited to a woman's home whom I just met a week ago.  Our daughters are the same age.  Living in the country, I don't have to talk to anyone if I don't want to.  You never just RUN into people getting your mail, etc.  I had a lovely visit with a truly happy, optimistic, real, faith-filled woman.  I think she's my inspiration for doing this Friday Gratitude thing.  I looked at her and thought, "Wow, I used to be like that.  What's changed?  How can I be like that again?"  I've felt weighed down lately.  Being around others enlivens me.  I want to feel enlivened at home, too, instead of just Mom, who keeps things running smoothly.  I want my kids to see my passion for all things beautiful in this world.  I want it to emanate from me.

7.  Canned food.  Since Novemeber I've done ZIPPO in the exercise department.  I can feel my once-firm bod slowly softening to mush.  Not just my body, but my state of mind.  Exercise is SO good for my mentality.  Have you ever felt 10 lbs. heavier because you didn't work out?  It's a very real feeling.  It's awful.  I started on my treadmill again.  I took my pineapple tidbits and cherry pie-filling in hand and got to work.  The canned goods are code for I'm a cheapskate and too cold to leave the house to buy weights.

8.  Oranges.  I don't know what it is but I can't get enough of my juicy oranges.  I guess I've been lacking vitamin C or something.  Thank heavens for oranges this week!

And lastly,

9.  The moments when all of us are laughing together.  Judge me if you want, but most of our united laughter this week came from the wii.  Super Mario Brothers, to be exact.  That is the one game that I will join the family and play.  We all root for each other.  We all laugh when Mom or Dad dies.  The kids eyes glow with pride that their parents are good at video games, too [go figure, we had an atari, nintendo].  We've had a lot of fun on that wii.

Have a super weekend enjoying all YOUR blessings!   

Old Friends.

People have said that Pride and Prejudice is one of the greatest love stories ever written.  I would agree.  But who wouldn't?  I  have yet to meet anyone to the contrary.

I watched the Keira Knightley version today.  I didn't have time for the 6 hour BBC with the lusty Colin Firth.  Unlike some people, I really like the 2005 rendering.  I had a hard time with Mr. Darcy at first, but then again, I had a hard time with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy, too, in the beginning. 

[However, the Mr. Collins in the Colin Firth version is COMPLETELY irreplaceable.]

It was like connecting with an old friend.  I cried and cried  because it was so lovingly-familiar and, well, I just felt right at home amongst the Bennets.  Their pain was my pain, their joys, my joys.  Consider me an honorary 6th sister.

There's nothing like a break from the mundane to swoon every once in awhile.  I love to swoon.  And how could you not in the early morning dawn, while the handsome Mr. Darcy walks with such determination towards you, coat swaying behind, shirt open at the neck, smoldering with love, saying, "You have bewitched me body and soul"?  You've bewitched me, too, baby!

Yes, it's just a movie, but still.... 

And, yes, I'm a happily married woman, but still....

Those were the days, ladies.

Those were some mighty fine days...

(I wonder how Ben would look in a frockcoat and breeches?  On second thought,  he's more a 21st century kind of guy.  But, hey, a  girl can dream, right?)

I tucked my little ones into bed tonight. 

I sang to them. 

I held each of their little hands. 

I'm sad to admit that it's been a long time since I've done that.  The singing part.  So often I'm ready to THROW them into bed, a metaphorical "throwing," figurative for "bedtime can't come sooner."

My children are my little blessings, especially when all is quiet, dark, and still.  That sounds funny, as if I'm saying they're blessings when THEY are quiet and still, in the dark, so I can't really see them.  That's not what I mean.  I'm really laughing about that.

Oh, I love my kids.  I love singing to my kids.  I love that I know, before they say it, which song each of them will choose.  I love our little moments in the dark . . . when I can't really see them:).

The Truth according to Calvin Klein.

Remember my REAL SIMPLE magazine I bought the other day?  I think it's pretty great that Calvin Klein is preaching eternal families . . . even if it wasn't intentional.  It's true that what begins here CAN never end.  It's a gift.  And I'm so grateful.

This ad made me curious to smell ETERNITY [if eternity (the "forever" kind) had a smell, what would it smell like?  Fruity, musky, spicy, clean??]. 

I've used (Clinique) HAPPY for so long, maybe it's time to take my perfume to the next level.  Why settle for happy when I can have . . . ETERNITY [insert a most breathy voice]?

Lazy Days.

I have mixed feelings about lazy-day weekends.  I'm a doer [unless I'm reading a great book] and there's nothing that HAS to be done today.  I should be grateful, shouldn't I? 

I would be grateful except for the fact that, unfortunately, my mind starts thinking about all the clever ways I could spend our money on things we don't really need.  I'm a dreamer at heart, especially when it comes to beautiful things, which is both a blessing and a curse.

However, all I have to do is look at the trail of powdered sugar along my kitchen floor and I'm back to reality.  My children are my greatest blessing and my greatest [wanted] trial.  Hear me out.  I think there's a connection between blessings and trials.  The things that become most important to us, that build strong character, that evolve into blessings, are the things we struggle through day in and day out because we know they're important [and, in the case of my kids, because I love them to death].  God is merciful enough to give us little rays of hope every day to keep us going.  "I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken . . ." (Psalms 37:25). 

My trial isn't in loving my children, it's in forgetting myself.  It's late nights with sick kids, teaching how to clean a toilet, making nutritious meals 3x a day, teaching consistently how to forgive, to serve, to love eachother, to change undies EVERY DAY, pointing them to Christ.  And sometimes I just feel tired.  But it's all about giving my time--something that is precious to me, and something they need most.  I wish I was saintly at heart.  Gosh, that would make my life easier.  But I'm not, so, I've got my work cut out for me.

Eventhough Mother Teresa and I have few things in common, God can work through me, too.  That's what I cling to.  That's what keeps me smiling, that's what brings the joy. 

Happy Lazy Saturday.  Hope it's a great one!

My Baby.

She's 4.  Today.  Waking up to a sweet and mellow "Happy Birthday" tune, she snuggled close and wanted to hear it again.  I'm a sucker for warm, snuggly, little morning bodies. 

I was anxious to send the fellas off to school to kick off our girl time.  The bus driver informed me that there was no morning kindergarten--not sure how I missed that memo--so, Lincoln became our honorary girl.  He didn't mind.  At all.

We hit the beauty school.  Manicures for $1.50.  In this case, money CAN buy happiness for a thrifty sort of mom.  Annie went with pink and snowmen.  I chose ruby red.  [I never paint my own nails red or I get the pink smudges where I've tried to correct my mistakes.] 

Lincoln was pumped for kelly green but last minute, the "boy" took over and changed his mind.  When we were done he'd convinced himself that he DID want painted nails, but alas, it was too late.  I said I'd take him back if he wanted his nails done for HIS birthday [in two weeks].  There's only so many years in a boy's life when getting your nails painted is still "okay."

We skipped over to the science fair at the boys' school.  I didn't recognize my boy.  Why he's wearing his hat puzzles me.  Fashion statement?  He does look kinda cool . . . is he TRYING to be cool?  I'm not sure, but it still makes me smile.  Of course, we had to snap a picture of Brigs and his future wife, er, I mean, BFF, Lizzie.

The party was at Grandma's.  Annie was delighted--squeals, the whole nine yards.  I love little kid delight.  It's nice to slowly acquire proof that a little girl lives in our home--dollhouses, purple pillow pets, princesses.  I'm so grateful to share our family milestones with people we adore, especially two of Annie's favorite people, Paige and Amy Jo.  They were so nice to come, even with their busy college-life schedules.

So, Annie, these are for you:

1.  Annie clings to the phrase, "When I'm a mom . . ."  I hope she never stops saying it.  It comes first in her dreams of "When I grow up . . ."

2.  Annie is so eager to please, at times to a fault, where her brothers are concerned.  She delights in others' delight.  She seeks laughter.  She emits happiness.

3.  Annie, like most little girls, lives to nurture.  Anything.  She is gentle [unless her brothers are nearby].

4.  Annie is full of the makings of a strong, compassionate, good, beautiful woman. 

I realize my responsibility not to squash those pure, innate parts of who she is.  Not to squash, but encourage, enlarge, and emphasize all the goodness in her.  That's heavy stuff, a job which I have to trust God knew what he was doing when he made me her mother.  I'm lucky to have her.

Simple.

My kids were surprised to find me still in bed at 7 a.m.  They were even MORE surprised to find there was NO SCHOOL today!  I heard whooping and hollering all the down the hall and up the stairs.  They watched a movie while I slept in, two things things we rarely get to do during the week. 

When Brigham came into my room he was wearing only a pair of jeans [because his clean shirts have taken semi-permanent residence in the guest room downstairs, er, my clean laundry storage room].  I looked at him with my sleepy eyes and saw the handsome teenager he'd be a few years down the road, all muscle, skin, and bone, with a pair of cool jeans.  It was a moment.

I bought a REAL SIMPLE magazine at the grocery store yesterday.  My SIL introduced me to them last summer.  I was drawn to it probably because I was hungry and the food on the cover looked so wholesome and satisfying.  I immediately identified with the magazine on page 4.  There's a picture of five normal-looking people, in England [I'm assuming], on a bench, eating, Harrods bags at their feet.  The caption read, "One of the very nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating."  That's from Pavarotti's autobiography, and I wholeheartedly agree.

Speaking of REAL SIMPLE, I'll show you real simple--eating this entire bag of my favorite candy in one day, if I'm not careful. 

I don't know what it was about magazines yesterday, but I also bought a subscription to Martha Stewart's EVERYDAY FOOD.  My sis gave me few to borrow when I visited her in NC last Fall.  The recipes are pretty, which I love, lots of pictures, and they're realistic, well, most of them are.  Remember, it's still Martha Stewart, so there's always gonna be some random ingredient/herb I've never heard of.  I'm totally excited to get my first issue.  I've needed to spice up my menu-planning.

Today is an uber-busy day.  Science project due, Parent-Teacher conferences, Cake contest, and a Blue and Gold Banquet to set-up for tonight.  And tommorow is my sweet Annie's 4th birthday.

I'll be glad when the day is done, missions accomplished, all are happy, and I can slide into bed.

Doomsday.

If I help with another science project it will be too soon! 

I had stress dreams all night about successive childrens' science projects, cub scout advancements, eagle scout ranks, etc.  I'm wondering if I can do it?  Wait, rephrase, I know THEY can do it, but can I handle keeping them on track without becoming a stress case?  Sometimes parenting overwhelms me.  It ususally happens when I cram years of my childrens' lives into one 5-minute period.  I don't recommend it.  OVERWHELMING.  [Whenever I type "overwhelm" I think of my high school english teacher who hated that word because it's redundant.  It should be "whelm."  Just whelm.  Funny, the things we remember.] 

I have no one to blame but myself.  I thought the project wasn't due until after Valentine's Day.  I was wrong.  Due on Wednesday.  THIS Wednesday.  Brigham kept asking to work on it, and me [know-it-all Mom] kept putting it off until the weekend . . . when DAD would be home.  Oh, these sweet children.  Will they ever survive with their mother?  I wonder sometimes.  I'm not all bad, however.  I have my glory moments.  Hey . . . I do, really.  I just tend to share my more embarassing ones with the world.  Embarassment loves company.  Commiseration.

William came to my resuce last night.  I had no Family Home Evening lesson planned due to our science project fiasco with Brigham.  Will said he had it covered [such a cool-guy].  He was so tender talking about spiritual things.  This is not normal.  He's my joker.  He was teaching us about getting to heaven and not "going astray" because Satan wants to get us and "squish the goodness out of us."  I was so thankful for him.  It reminded me of the time last week when Ben was gone and it was just me and the kids for dinner.  He came up to me, at the sink, where I was starting on the dishes, and said, "I'll take care of these."  My sweet boy. 

As the kids get older it's so cool to watch them step up without being asked [like, whoa, when did you grow up?].  It doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, my heart smiles.  They're becoming.  That's what matters. 

I'm still waiting for them to think that burping and tooting aren't funny.  Not sure if that will ever happen . . .