Study Group

School is in full force which means every day my kids tote home loads of homework.

I was never much for homework. I'm sure I must have had homework in my classes as a child, but I really don't remember spending too much time on it. Did my grades suffer? Sure they did, but not to the extent one might imagine. My report cards were simply average. Later on in highschool I prided myself on not having to study for tests. Fortunately memorization came very quickly and naturally to me. Read a book...pass a test. If I was lucky enough to have a teacher that loved writing information on the board...all the better! That info just stuck (many thanks to Mr. Reynolds-sociology & psychology-grades 11 & 12). Heck, I even remember making the honor roll a couple of times and never cracking a book. All this and I graduated with two babies. Can you imagine how well I would've done had I applied myself in class? (Yes mom, I get it now!!)

Unfortunately, my lack of study skills are now coming back to haunt me. I have such a VERY difficult time teaching my children HOW to study. One would think this task to be simple, but let me assure you, it is not. It's much like tossing a city girl in front of a dairy cow and telling her to milk it. You know it can be done, and perhaps have even witnessed it first hand, but the actual ACT of milking seems all together foreign.

So here I am, 28 years old, baffled at how, besides reading them over and over, I can get these vocabulary words to stick in the mind of my 2nd grader. Begging my 5th grader to look over the map again for his impending geography test, because I truly don't know how on earth one would study a map. Or pleading with my 6th grader to go over her flash cards just once more, without giving her the impression that math is my nemesis. It is the one thing that completely eludes me.

I am thankful however. This "memorization" ability is seemly passed down from generation to generation. My mother is a brilliant woman and so is Alex's mom. And whether or not he would ever admit it to anyone, studying comes very naturally to Alex. He simply doesn't struggle. Now my theory is proving true in my own children. Most of our kids have no trouble with spelling tests (Ash obviously inherited some throw-back gene from an ancestor with terrible spelling). On the other hand most things really do stick in her mind if she focuses enough to absorb them.

Math comes very naturally to both Isreal and Tristyn (they obviously did not get this from me). As a matter of fact, damn near everything comes naturally to Israel and Tristyn who must have gotten hit with the study stick at birth. Kayl on the other hand struggles a bit more than the other kids. Thankfully though,he applies himself like no child I have ever seen. I have to admit there is something to be said for someone who has to work a bit harder for what they want. It will carry him far in life.

What am I most thankful for this year? Ashton and two of her friends from class began a study group. We all live in the same neighborhood, which makes alternating houses easy. And all the girls get along (most of the time) which is a feat in itself when you are discussing 12 year old girls. So basically a couple times a week 3 pre-teens invade my dining room, eat and drink everything within reach and ask me questions about fractions and Egyptian pyramids. Whatever, Ash is getting her homework finished and I don't even have to listen to her complain that life is passing her by while I force her nose into a book. It's like killing two birds with one stone, she socializes and passes her classes. Thank heaven for small miracles!

Life is good, school is good, and my laundry is done. Who could ask for more!!

First Day

Here is a photo of the kids first day of school last week. WHAT AN EARLY MORNING!!!! Braeden was so bummed that day. His first day is tomorrow (Sept 7). Micaiah and I are going to have the house all to ourselves. Whatever shall we do?? Surely wewill find something to occupy out time!!

Brady Bunch Visits Ireland

You have a baby...in a bar!!

Well, Alex finally talked me into draggin the kids down to our local pub "Paddy Mac's" to introduce them to the infamous Martin. They had a blast. Daddy taught them how to play darts. Martin filled their tummies with soda, fish 'n chips, shepherds pie, and apple pie. And Yoko gave Ashton the grand tour as well as introducing the girls to the "bar cat".

After two cokes Israel announced that he thought he may be drunk. He also found an outlet to show off his God given talent...the tummy roll. We always new it would be a great bar trick.

Tristyn and Micaiah were doing cola races (much like carbombs for minors). Braeden, we found, has one hell of an arm for darts. And Ashton may very well have found her calling as she decided she was going to become Martin's apprentice and then move back to the states to open her own Irish Pub.

All in all it was a fabulous evening. The only downside...the kids have decided they will no longer be eating at Burger King. The future is full of Fish 'n Chips!!!

In Memory Of...

Obediah James Kolath

1972-2005

I'm broken.....

Say Cheese!

Bad camera phone photo of me and a couple of my girlfriends. That's Ginger there on the left and Heather on the right. Thankfully that night some poor sap felt sorry for us and offered to take our photo. Just prior to this shot we were all attempting to get a decent picture by holding our phones out at arms length. Shockingly, they just weren't coming out as we had hoped. Curious.

I'm slappin' this photo on here because I've nothing too terribly exciting to report. I also thought this the easiest way to answer the few requests I've had to send photos of my now black hair....well, there ya go. I have another photo of my hair that Ash took, but I haven't the guts to post it as it might be the most frightening thing I've seen since Amittyville! HAHAHA!!

Anyhoooo...Al is home, kids begin school next week, and life is good. Couldn't ask for more. Hope all is just as well for ya'll.

The Classics

Sean Connery is H-O-T!!!

I was watching First Knight earlier today and for the life of me I couldn't take my eyes off the man. I mean seriously, he's something like 75 and still he may be one of the hottest men alive.

What is it about older men that is so attractive? Maybe they are a little more distinguished, a little more refined, or a little more wise. (or maybe it's that damn accent....gets ya every time!) Whatever it is, it's working.

Now here I am watching The Upside of Anger and I've got to tell you...Kevin Costner is a hottie too. He's funny & witty. He even looks good with a little gray. Man...Kevin Costner is fine! (wink)

Al HATES that I find older men attractive. He thinks it is disgusting. HAHAHA! I giggle at the thought! Hell, he should be thrilled about it. He's gonna be older one day too. In fact, he already is to some people! Even if he'd rather not admit it.

Now, don't go thinking that I've gone off the deep end. I'm not looking to hook up with some 100 year old, transparent skinned, gummy smiled, liver spotted, oxygen tanked, Depends wearin', wheelchair bound, great-great grand daddy. I mean honestly...one must draw the line somewhere. But whatever...to each his own.

Think I'll get back to Kevin Costner now. He'll just have to do until September 13th when Alex turns 30. That's when I'll really be livin' my dream...hahaha! Just messin'

p.s. Ashton just read this over my shoulder and is laughing hysterically. She asked if I think George W. is a hottie too....you know what? I'm proud to say...I do.

Lazy

I need to get off my rear-end and do something....anything.

I just CAN NOT get motivated! The house is clean, although I have plenty of laundry to keep me busy if I so choose. I need to go through closets and dressers, but they remain untouched. And my lawn desperately needs mowed, but the grass is left to grow another day. It's just one of those days. I've no gumption whatsoever.

I can't even finish typing a BLOG. I've begun three this morning, every one of which is sitting in my drafts folder. The creative spark even seems to elude me. All I've managed to do today is walk across the street (in my pj's) to give Ginger some wall anchors and make Kayl a dental appointment. Pathetic. My bed hasn't even been made. I'd like to tell you that I've been laying in it reading all day, but I would be lying. I've done nothing more than veg in front of the television. BLAH!!!

There's just nothing pressing enough to drag me out of my stupor. Not that it would matter, I would probably ignore anything that tried to light a fire under my a**. But as luck would have it I've no one to talk to...or see. No appointments, no lunch dates. Nothing. I told the kids we would go buy shoes later, but later is not now, so why hurry?

In fact it would probably be best to end this before dragging others into my pit of boredom.

Hope your day is more fruitful than mine!

Boots & Spurs

Okay, I am writing this PRIOR to Al's approval of my going out tomorrow night. This may come as a shock to some of you as I rarely ask Alex's approval for such mundane things, however I have decided to allow him the pleasure of "feeling" in charge. (Just messin' baby.)

Anyway, my girlfriend Ginger has been begging me for MONTHS to accompany her to Western World. Somehow I've always managed to blow her off...until now. Tomorrow night I will suck up my pride and walk into that cowboy bar to watch the "mechanical bull rodeo". ~OH-KAY~

Nah, the truth is, I've been there a couple times. It's alright. It reminds me of home....only I am on an island in the middle of the sea watching little Okinawans line dance. I always feel so completely out of place in there. Although I know all the songs. Yes, to those of you sitting with your mouths hanging open, I know who Kenny Chesney, Brad Paisley, and Lee Ann Womack are. In fact in may surprise you to know that given my druthers, in a karaoke contest I'd likely be singing a Trisha Yearwood song long before a Gwen Stefani one. Regardless, I hardly look like a belong in a country bar. Not that anyone cares. Last time I was there I watched an Okinawan lady dressed like 80's Madonna and wearing Reeboks do the Watermelon Crawl. Hehehe! Just having a little visual here. Funny stuff.

Tomorrow should make for an interesting evening. It will please my grandmother to know that I will be spending my evening drinking $3.00 bottles of WATER. That's one thing I can do to put my husband at ease while he is away. No Jack Daniels for me...nope...no-sir-eee! I do hope Ginger appreciates this. If I REALLY like it I might even buy some boots. Just call me Gretchen Wilson! Yeah...right. We'll see how it goes. I'm gonna take it slow.

HEY! Maybe if I'm lucky I can get one of my other pierced, tattooed, "Seether-listening" friends to join us. I think I'll go call Heather.

Old Photos

I just came across this photo of Al and I at our wedding. He had just shoved cake down my dress ~nice~. 11 years ago. ~memories flood my mind~ Wild.

*blah*

I am going CRAZY!! (hold your comments, please) I can not stand this house any longer.

Currently a bookshelf stands empty in the center of my living room. Vases, photos, and various odds and ends litter my table top. The curtains and rug are being debated in my mind. And all the while my living area remains in a state of limbo. I have become completely blase' about my house. The color (or lack thereof), the furniture, and the basic lack of space threaten to push me over the edge of insanity.

I adore all the furniture I painstakingly sought out and purchased at the beginning of the year. Large, dark, and teak...the pieces are visually stunning as well as functional. However, the few items I've left from before now look drab and sadly out of place. The entertainment center seems to be the main source of my grief. It is too tall, too light, too bland. It matches nothing in the house and takes up more space than I am willing to give. I despise it.

A couple of months ago I found the entertainment center of my dreams. A beautifully crafted work of art that would hide my television (this is essential) and accent my home perfectly. And if that alone wasn't enough...there was a matching Step Tansu. What luck!! It was as if they had been designed soley for the purpose of residing in my home. Unfortunately, someone else obviously felt the same because when I returned to buy them, they were gone. Such a loss!!

Besides my "entertainment woes" I also need to solve my DVD storage dilemma. Before, they had been arranged alphabetically on a bookshelf. This was convenient and functional, however, unsightly. If you hadn't already guessed, I am a stickler about hiding things away. Anyhooo...I know that I want a tall, teak cabinet to stand in the corner of my living room. Something decorative & beautiful with plenty of space to hold our ever growing DVD collection. Now just to find it.

Poor Al. He is going to have a conniption fit when he reads this. I do hope someone is standing near by who knows CPR.

That fact is...I have become antsy here. Three years in this teensy house. I am going out of my mind. I've arranged and re-arranged a thousand times. I've simply used this place to the fullest of my creative ability. It is time for a new palette.

What I wouldn't give for a home painted in warm, inviting hues. I swear, sometimes I feel as though I may drown in a sea of off-white, lead-based flakes. ~Help me! Help me! cough-sputter-spit~ Honestly, whose bright idea was it to paint every inch of wall inside and out beige. I know...I get the whole "off-white for rental houses" thing, but PAH-LEEZ!!!

*hehehe* The thought just crossed my mind. When I was young I used to joke that my grandma would work and work to perfect the decor of a house. When she had finally gotten it just right...she would pick up and move only to start all over again. I must take after her.

An empty house stirs the imagination. I love walking into a new space and creating from it a comfortable, inviting home where family & friends alike can sit back, smile and relax. It offers so many possibilities. One of these days.

Until then, I guess I'll just continue to perfect this "little slice of heaven".

Bang Bang!

Look at my beautiful baby! Alex snapped this photo at Organizational Day last month. It was hot at Hades that day! Never-the-less we had a fabulous time. Can't believe summer is already winding down. It was a good one.

PC Woes

Oh! How I hate this thing!

My computer is driving me insane! The silly thing shuts off whenever it feels the need, and won't turn back on no matter how I plead and beg, pray and whine. Don't ask me what the problem is, I simply haven't the foggiest.

Al told me to take it in to be serviced. Fine. But first I had to get the silly thing to turn on long enough to make sure all my music was backed up. I don't know what they'll do when they clean this thing out. My luck...nothing. They'll just tell me that it is crap & I need a new one. GGGRRR!!!

Okay, on to bigger & better conversation. I'm near finished school shopping. This brings a great deal of joy to my heart. However in just the last two weeks Ashton has sprouted enough that her size 10's are now high-waters. I now have to return all her jeans (thank heaven she didn't wear them!!) and buy 12 slims.

School starts in 21 days!!

Alex left today. **boo hoo hoo** I am beside myself. Although it really is a bit of a laugh. He is going to be gone 2 weeks. TWO WEEKS!!!! No big deal at all.

No news on Kayl's tooth as of yet. We are hoping the brace will come off soon as the wire digs into his lip a bit. In the mean time he's had to keep wax on the end of the wire. He might as well be wearing braces. Good news...his tooth hasn't changed colors, so I am hopeful that it is indeed still alive.

Really & truly not much else has been happening here. Summer doddles along and we doddle with it. Nothing particularly exciting, nothing particularly new. Hope everyone is having as relaxing a summer as we.

Laundry Room Floor

For those of you keeping up with Alex's blog as well, yes I am once again caught up on laundry. Consider it a bonus to his test pass.

Anyhooo, I guess we are going out to celebrate tonight rather than drown his sorrows. All I know is that my house is CLEAN, laundry is DONE and supper is COOKING!! Ah, how wonderful when everything is going according to plan. The only thing that could possibly make this day better is a Mango Frappachino & a late night Subway run. We'll see.

Been working on the girls room this week. Washing bedding, hanging lights, putting up shelves. I even hung these cool cutout things in their doorway. They are reminiscent of the beads that used to hang in my Uncle Jim's house sometime in the early 80's (?). Man, I dug those beads. I would walk back and forth through them for hours while the adults "chilled". Anyway, we have plans to put climbing rope up in the boys doorway. That will be a daddy thing.

I suppose I should go finish up dinner. The kids are climbing the walls!! Besides, it's always better to drink on a full stomach!

Pearly Whites

Around 5:30 yesterday we had a little excitement enter our lives. The kids were outside jumping on the trampoline when, without any warning, Kayl's left front tooth decided it would like to play with Tristyn's hard head. Unfortunately, Tristyn's head wasn't in the mood for games and Kayl's tooth was promptly tossed to the ground....root and all.

Poor Kayl ran screaming and bleeding into the house where he deposited the tooth in my hand. I quickly rinsed it under the tap and stuck it back in the empty space in his mouth. "Looks like someone needs a trip to the ER!!!" Good Times.

We drove (in traffic) to the Dental Hospital on Foster. When we finally arrived around 6:30 they had to call the dentist in from Courtney. So we waited for him to drive (in traffic) to check out Kayl's mouth. In the meantime they took x-rays and we filled out paperwork.

When the dentist finally showed, he took a look at Kayl and his x-rays and called me back. It seems the root on Kayl's tooth is about HALF the size of that on a normal tooth. His other teeth look fine, but this one....not so great. At first the dentist thought perhaps there had been a prior trauma to the tooth, but said that when he looked closer it just looked like it never developed correctly.

So there I was, in an empty dental hospital ( save for Kayl and I, the dentist, and two aids) explaining how at three Kayl knocked his baby tooth on his grandma's coffee table and it died. Could that have caused trauma to the adult tooth forming behind? Or perhaps it is hereditary, and it never developed because of that little "missing teeth" thing that runs on daddy's side of the family.

Whatever the case, the prognosis for Kayl's tooth was not good. Because the root is so small they were going to have a difficult time getting the tooth to stay put, and even then there was a chance the tooth wouldn't be able to "take hold" again.

They worked for 2 hours attempting to splint his tooth into place. Kayl now has a lovely little piece of wire glued to his four front teeth. We have to go back in two weeks to see if they were indeed able to save the tooth. If not they will have to pull it and replace it.

Kayl did really really well. He took the time to focus and breathe through the shots. And he didn't freak out when the dentist had to push his tooth into place. He told me on the ride home that he really liked this dentist because other dentists would tell you that something wasn't going to hurt, but it would. This one was honest and told Kayl everything he was doing and why.

A little good news in all this: Kayl's two front teeth are now aligned and the dentist told us that the rest of his teeth look great so he should never need braces.

Bad news?: This has renewed my deep desire to go to dental school. I can't explain why I have always been so fascinated by the dental field...but I am. Who knows. Maybe I'll go someday. Anything is possible, right?

I'll keep you updated on Kayl's tooth!

Growing up Brady

I will soon be losing my "blog fan base" (hehehe!) to a much more interesting group of individuals....my kids.

Yep, the kiddoes started a blog of their own. I have to admit I am slightly worried as to what they will spend their time writing....."My sister is a PIG." "I hate sharing a room." "My mom won't let me go to the pool again!!" "School STINKS!!!" "I wish I was an only child!!!"

"shuddering"

Have to hope for the best though. I'm standing back with a watchful eye....giving them space to grow creatively, but ready to step in if things get out of hand. Surely not!

They are a indeed a funny group. "Marcia" and "Greg" will likely keep us all in stitches. They both decided they wanted people to know what it is like growing up in our large family. Since all the kids seem to have an odd fascination with the Brady Bunch, they named their blog as such. I'm only sorry our problems can't be solved in 30 minutes of less. *bummer*

At any rate, it should give us a little glimpse into the life & times of the "Brady kids".

It's Been A While....

And the masses are screaming.....Where has she gone? Why doesn't she blog?

Okay, so maybe not "masses" per sey, but a few of you none the less. My answer is quite simple...my man is home. That and the fact that the workers building new towers down the road from our house broke the main cable line, so over half of Kadena was without television or internet. Not to worry! I filled my time with Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. A thoroughly enjoyable read.

Life is full of....well, nothing much really. We have been spending most of our time at home. Well, I have been. The kids are busy with friends and life. Al is in the midst of a school which keeps him working 6 days a week. He is home in the evenings, but by then is so exhausted we barely see the man before he crashes.

He has however had plenty of time to get me addicted to The Shield. It seems he got himself hooked on it during his last deployment and when he returned he felt the awesome need to begin renting the seasons. We are now half way through season 3. CRAZINESS! Season 4 isn't out on DVD yet, so I figure after this we'll start renting Dead Like Me. It keeps us busy.

I want to say the kids are enjoying their summer. I suppose they are, however, how many weeks can you fill with the pool and a trampoline? Boredom is beginning to set in a bit and they are anxious to get back to school. Unfortunately school is still five weeks away.

We spent this afternoon school supply shopping. At first I was going to go without the kids, but they were all so excited I couldn't very well leave them behind. So I decided to take the kids out for lunch and then head to the Foster Bookmark. That is where our adventure began.

First of all they don't have shopping carts at the Bookmark, only baskets. This is all well and good considering most people just pop in to buy a few magazines, a book, or a few office supplies. I however am readying five children for the start of the school year. Good thing I brought the kids along. Tristyn took the younger kids over to the children's reading area while Kayl and Ashton grabbed a basket each. This is precisely when the "supply tornado" overtook that poor little shop.

Black pens, blue pens, red pens, highlighters, pink erasers, cap erasers, skinny markers, fat markers, washable markers, 8-16 & 24 count crayons, 3-ring binders, pocket folders, composition books, wide rule paper, spiral notebooks, no.2 pencils, primary pencils, paints, headphones (for music class), rulers, glue, glue sticks, compasses, protractors, assignment books, and two new backpacks. WHEW!!!! The poor lady in line behind us looked as though she could've bludgeoned us to death. (I am fairly sure she only had a small book in her hand.)

$130.00 later we were trudging to the van, bags in tow. We headed home to split the supplies and fill backpacks. The kids were a buzz of energy. "I'm scared to go to 3rd grade." "Did Ashton need this in 5th grade?" "I hope my teacher is nice!" "Do we paint in kindergarten?" "When do class lists come out?" "How many more days till school?" On and on they went. I had to laugh. I know how exciting the first day of school is, but heavens, it is still so far off.

I explained to the kids that because five of them would be in school this year we had to start shopping good and early. And that just because their bags were full didn't mean they got to break out the new crayons and paper to have a little art session. With school supplies out of the way (and a few things in a reserve box if they need more), we can focus on clothes. That gives me two paychecks before the start of school. I'm getting dizzy just thinking about it!

Well, I am off. Think I'll take some time to read before I have to start supper. Better to clear my mind off all the shopping I've yet to do! Hope your summer is going by fabulously! My love to all!

He Exists!

And the man finally returns to the tiny island from which he so long ago fled.

Yep, Al's home. Although I've yet the pleasure of seeing him for myself....but those at work have indeed informed me that he is home.

This is when my excitement turns to bitchiness and I wonder why the HELL the man is still at work 3 hours after landing when we have been waiting months upon months for his return. Yes, I am aware he must sign in...talk to the team....square things away. But seriously...waiting, waiting, waiting...yawn...waiting.

He'll be home soon, or at least he better be. I am tired and would really like to enjoy him a bit before I throw myself into dinner preparations and such.

Ah, at least he is home. No more waiting for planes, no more wondering. He is only at Torii. How long can he possibly be? A couple more hours? Not bad...I can wait.

HUH??

Alright, this is going to sound completely odd....but I have recently become addicted to the Daily Dancer. Everyday the kids and I huddle around the computer to watch this strange little man dance to different songs in his dirty living room. I can't quite decide if I am amused or disgusted, but none the less, I keep going back.

And it isn't just me. Good grief this guy has a lot of followers. Here I am getting 3 or 4 comments a post. This guy is getting 40 or 50. Craziness!!!

I have to admit, he is brave. I don't know that I have seen a worse dancer since Elaine from Seinfield. Sad, sad, sad. None the less, he obviously enjoys dancing a great deal. It must be nice to be so completely committed to something, even in the absence of talent.

Check it out for yourself!

http://dailydancer.com/

Good Times!!

The Horror!!

So last night I decide (on a whim) to attempt to face my fear and go with my friend Ginger to see Amittyville Horror. I won't be making this blog entry very long cause I am freaked out....but just so you know, I watched it.

I kept my eyes open for most all of the movie. I was smart though, knowing that my photographic memory would be my downfall, I decided it best to hide behind my hand whenever spooky music began.

At one point I walked out to the lobby to call the kids. As I was walking back in, a scary scene flashed on the screen before me. I screamed, jumped high in the air, flipped around and grabbed some poor teenage girl who had the misfortune of walking behind me. I scared her enough that she jumped and then we kept our arms around eachother until I got back to my seat. I couldn't stop laughing.

I am sure Ginger now has nail marks permanently etched in her left thigh. Over and over I kept saying...."take your babies and get the HELL out of there!!!!!" This could've all been avoided if they would've just LEFT!!!

Okay, I did it and now it is over. Except for the memory of it all. The kids all slept in my room with me last night. Everyone was sprawled on mats on the floor while we watched comedy after comedy. Door locked. Lights on. I kept dozing off & waking myself up until after the clock showed 3:15. Pathetic.

Even now the kids are standing around me. As support? Or protection perhaps...I dunno.

Ending this....I can't write any longer. Time for another comedy! MUCH LOVE!!!

Home

I miss home.

Now that the summer months have officially arrived it is getting harder and harder to not think about El Dorado and everyone there that I love. I find myself logging onto the El Dorado Times website daily. I read about births, deaths, and the big "goings on" that grace the front page.

Things like the new spray park that opened at Graham park. My kids would really dig that. The Fourth of July celebrations and all of the restrictions on fireworks within city limits. Now that makes me think of my uncles. I wonder if they will be obeying those laws now that they are older and "wiser".

I dream of family BBQ's. Watching my uncles and cousins play basketball at my Aunt Lisa's. Chatting with my mom in the kitchen over dinner preparations. Oh, and the occasional interruption by my dad yelling from the living room "TURN TO CHANNEL 8...THIS IS FUNNY!!!" Gut busting laughter shared with my Grandma over her homemade baked macaroni & cheese. Seeing the kids try to out-bear-hug their Papa. Quiet nights listening to locusts while drinking tea on the breeze way. Swimming at the pool (which is much preferred to the lake). Ice cream and fudge bars from Ronda's freezer. Watching my kids chase fireflies after dark. Ashton picking tomatoes off the vine from Ronda's garden. Bob teaching Kayl how to mow the lawn. Turning up the surround sound to watch NASCAR with my folks. The ice cream social, pageant, and community swim that mark the beginning of the weekend long festivities we call the Prairie Port Festival. When the entire town is a buzz with scavenger hunts, mud volleyball, craft fairs, classic car shows, block parties, traveling amusement parks, ball games, and fishing contests.

These are all the little things I hate missing out on. I know El Dorado isn't perfect and the vision in my mind is a bit blurred by my love for the place. But I still appreciate the little things. The things that you find are important after years and years away.

Realistically, I just miss my family. Truth is, no family is perfect, but our imperfections are what bind us together. Love, laughter, and common memories that you hold dear.

These people are mine, my home, and I miss them so desperately.

Say What?

I woke up this morning with the strangest image in my mind. Me...hair done neatly, wearing an apron, cleaning house and smiling!

Okay people....this is NOT Leave it to Beaver and I am defiantly NOT June Cleaver. The house isn't even a mess (although I could stand to get a little more laundry finished). This is obviously my mind beginning preparations for Al's return. I am SO ready for him to get home, but these are indeed the lazy days of summer and I am currently living them to the fullest!

5:00 am: Micaiah rolls over, smacks me in the face, and wakes me from a semi-peaceful sleep. All of the sudden my mind kicks into high gear. ***Her daddy will be home soon, she'll have to stop crawling into bed with me.***Bed, bed, I need to wash their sheets. ***Just washed Braeden's sheets, I should start Hooked on Phonics with him. ***Reading, I should institute an hour of FAMILY read time every night. ***Ashton and Kayl need to work on math. ***School, I didn't pre-enroll the kids for next year. ***Who will watch the dog while we are in Kansas? ***Dog hair, need to vacuum. ***Need to mow. ***Need to scrub. ***Need to do laundry. ***Do this do that, SMILE SMILE SMILE!

All the while I picture myself in that little apron looking sweet and happy. Honestly, can you imagine? I mean, I dig a clean house, and I'm cool with all of us sitting around reading, but I am feeling a little too Donna Reed right now and that makes me VERY uneasy.

So...I think I will start slow. Here in a few I will toss some clothes in the wash. Maybe I will run out and mow assuming the grass is dry. I'll pick up the house and water the plants. Maybe I'll go ahead and set up the trampoline that has been sitting in my van all weekend. I could dust & do the dishes. I might even scrub the kitchen floor. But I refuse to indulge my early morning fantasy with a dress and heels.

KUDOS to June Cleaver and her pearls...but I am all about a ratty t-shirt and bandana.

Green Day

"My shadow's the only one that walks beside me...."

I seem to be going through a Green Day phase. Over the last few years it has occurred to me that I do music in spurts. When I find a CD that I enjoy, I listen the hell out of it. It will play on my I-POD, my computer, in my van, and in my sleep. I'll know the entire thing from start to finish before I move on.

All of my memories during a particular time in my life can usually be summed up by a band. January of 2002: Nickleback and Puddle of Mudd. Summer of 2002: Godsmack and Disturbed. I also did a lot of Staind during that time which seems to bring to mind my brother. May 2003: Fleetwood Mac. Early 2004 was spent in a frenzy of Limp Bizkit, 3 Doors Down, Linkin Park, and Hoobastank. Later that year I was stuck on Seether, Chevelle, Jane's Addiction and Big & Rich (nice array!). 2005 has thus far been U2, Crossfade, Cold and Fuel. More recently I have been obsessed with The Exies and now....Green Day.

The Green Day thing kind of happened on a fluke. And wouldn't you know it...I'm gonna give ya a little background for this one! GOOD TIMES!!

Every Sunday night my girlfriends and I head out to Starbucks for a few hours. We chill, drink coffee, talk, laugh and observe. It has become somewhat of a ritual since the menfolk have been deployed.

Anyway, last Sunday as I sat drinking my Mocha Frappachino with a shot of Caramel it suddenly hits me that this indeed will be the final Sunday for our "inner circle". By next Sunday Jenny would be in Virginia, Heather in Alaska, and Judy and Kim would both be knee deep in husband homecomings. As for me, I...will be alone.

Now, I too am very much looking forward to the return of my husband. However, I still have 3 Sundays before that blessed event. So there I sat, wondering what the heck I was supposed to do with myself until his return.

Aha! I could have the kids join me for coffee...except that I don't normally return home until late and the entire point of Sunday coffee is to get AWAY from the children. I could sit at home and read, but this again defeats the purpose of Sunday coffee and besides I have now become a frappachino WHORE!

While all these thoughts are racing through my mind the Starbucks employees are pulling the shades and locking the doors. Sunday coffee has again come to an end and I am feeling pretty much completely and utterly alone.

The girls and I make our way across the parking lot to my van where I proceed to connect my I-POD to the stereo. I press play and lo and behold Boulevard of Broken Dreams begins to play...

"I walk a lonely road, The only one that I have ever known. Don't know where it goes, But it's home to me and I walk alone. I walk this empty street On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Where the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone. I walk alone, I walk alone. I walk alone, I walk a...My shadow's the only one that walks beside me. My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating. Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me. 'Til then I walk alone."

Just then, somewhere in the back of my mind, lightning struck and instantaneously it became my new theme song. I rolled down the windows and blasted it through the speakers as we drove down the highway. My only purpose was to burn this memory into my mind and the minds of these women who have made this last year of my life so very unforgettable.

No, I am not depressed, and no I don't honestly feel all alone. No worries, it's just my song for the moment. All joking aside, the song really does put me in a good mood. Every time I play it I end up cranking the volume and dancing around.

The truth is, I've nothing to be down about. My girls are leaving, but we will stay in contact. And yeah, Ronnie and AJAX are headed home, but that only makes me happy for Kim and Judy. They have been alone far too long. Besides, all is not lost. Rob leaves Friday so my girl Ginger will be free to join me in the Sunday coffee tradition.

But until then...."I walk alone I walk alone"

And 7...

Yep, Kayl has it too. However I am still holding out hope for myself! This is indeed the never ending "24 hour" flu bug. At least Kayl was prepared. As for me, I shall coninue to live in denial.

OH!! This just in!! I am sitting here on the phone with Kim, who is ILL!!! Oh God, please let it pass over me!

Okay, tired of Blogging about this! Hoping that the next blog is a bit happier and healthier. I'm out!

Round 5 & 6

Ah! I bet I have you thinking Ashton and Kayl are now ill, or perhaps it is I who has taken a turn for the worse. No, no. It was indeed Ashton who just woke me from my slumber....however the #6 in question would be none other than.....Melina.

Oh yes, I now have an extra sick girl on my hands. No worries, she is a sweetie. I am considering keeping her here, if she will stay the next 24 hours, simply not to infect Kim's household any further. We shall see.

Those poor girls. Currently one resides in each restroom.

I suppose it will be another long day of Pepto Bismol, Ginger-ale, Gatorade, saltines, Clorox wipes, and Lysol. Fun stuff!!

So my Grandma tells me there will indeed come a day when the sounds and smells of this last week will be greatly missed. Although I find that thought a bit stomach turning, somewhere in the recesses of my mind I know she is right. Partly because for the last 12 years I have been told there isn't a moment of motherhood that I won't miss one day. And partly (mostly) because I have always found my grandma's word to be true. Man, I love that woman!

Enter funny moment in this story.

Ashton and Melina both just stood before me, slightly bent due to the stomach cramps, and asked if the Pepto Bismol I gave them would help. Oh heavens. I giggled at the memories of my youth. Pepto reminds me of nothing more than vomit. The memory of regurgitating pink fluid almost immediately after swallowing is burned deep in my mind. You will not find one drop of liquid Pepto in this house. I can't stomach it. The smell, the taste. It is pure sickness to me. Thankfully someone decided it best to make chewable tabs. I honestly don't know if these help matters as I won't put them anywhere near my mouth, but one can always hope.

So no girls...they probably don't seem to help, but take them anyway, and may you have better luck than I.

I do think it best to end this now. It would serve me well to spend some time re-scrubbing the restrooms. One thing I know...nothing is worse than having to be sick in a restroom that isn't sparkling. It is the least I can do for "my girls". Perhaps one day they will remember their momma (or Auntie Randi) keeping the restroom clean during their time of need. With any luck they too will look back on these days with fond memories. Only time will tell.

Good Times...2, 3, & 4

Oh yeah, here we go. Just shy of a week and it begins again.

Last night Braeden, Micaiah, and Tristyn stayed over at Kims (how unfortunate for her....and her carpets). Then this morning around 9:00, Kim called to let me know that the girls had been sick all night long. Oh....great.

I threw a bandana on my head and headed to Kim's (still in my pajamas mind you). I walked in and sure enough there sat my girls looking tired and putrid. Poor things. Before we could get out the door Braeden rushed to the restroom to begin his own battle against the sickness.

Three more. It has overtaken three more of my babies.

So home they came, to change into clean pajamas and crawl into bed.

Tristyn seems to have the worst tummy cramps of the three, but Micaiah is taking it the hardest. Crying each time she must stand, cat backed, over the toilet. Braeden even managed a bit of sleep, but not for long. They can't seem to keep the Pepto down, so I ran out to buy ginger-ale and saltines. Hopefully it will ease a bit of the uneasiness in their stomachs.

I do hope the sickness skips Ashton, Kayl and I. As a last stitch effort I have Clorox wipes stocked at every "port" and Lysol in hand. Oh PLEASE let this end soon.

Good Times!

WARNING!!! This blog is not for the weak of stomach!!!

Weeeelllll, that was fun! Nothin like having to clean up a bed full of vomit at 1:00 am! These are the moments. The little things that make you realize that you are a momma, and no one in their right mind would take this job.

**hold while I assist my baby with his dry heaves**

As I was saying...this isn't a job any sane person would ask for. But these are my babies, and if I am to enjoy the laughter and smiles I must also endure the late night sicknesses and bellyaches.

Poor Izzi. He doesn't do sick very well. I suppose none of us do, but the rest of my kids (even Micaiah) seem to make it to the restroom before they get sick. Unfortunately, sickness always seems to sneak up on Israel. He'll be sleeping soundly and the next thing you know...."RALPH". Poor guy. He just can't seem to gage when to wake and RUN!!!

I should be saying "poor Braeden". He is the one who mistakenly climbed into Israel's bed tonight so not to sleep alone. He is the one who was covered from head to toe in Israel's supper. He is the one who woke to a nightmare of epic proportions.

Blech!! The terrible horrible memories. I remember the time Al's brother Kevin "ralphed" on me from across the room. CURSE his wretched flu!! And the time Ash "ralphed" on Kayl after drinking strawberry milk on a cross country road trip. Not a good time having to clean two kids and a van at a truckstop in the middle of nowhere. These are not good memories folks. Nothing about these memories are enjoyable.

So Israel is sick to his stomach and Braeden has to endure the repercussions of Izzi's tummyache. And I am left to the task of dragging two exhausted and crying little boys to the bathroom to make them shower. Not a very fun middle of the night activity I must say. Not only were the boys crying, but try as I might I could not get that water the right temperature! "It's burning, it's burning...It's freezing, it's freezing!! ~sob, sob, sob~"

The neighbors must think us insane. 1:00 am, lights on throughout the house, the boys crying in the shower, me running back and forth from kitchen to bedroom to laundry room to bathroom and back again. And all the while I comfort the boys, strip the bed, bleach and flip the mattress, re-sheet the bed and start the laundry.

Finally the boys are washed, dried and pajama'd. They climb back into a fresh bed, cuddle under the covers and drift off to sleep. Thankfully, with the second round, Izzi woke in time to race for the bathroom. A little Pepto & he is off to bed again. It is a good thing I don't sleep at night. This would be absolutely miserable if I was tired too.

Amazingly I find that I can deal with this far better than I used to. There was a time that you would find me dry heaving if I was forced to clean up after a vomiting spell.

**and I'm off**

Poor Little Guy :(

Anyhow, so now I can manage a quick and thorough clean-up without being sick myself. It took me a long while to get here. It must be six kids worth of sickness that toughened my stomach lining!

Ah, the joys of motherhood. Only a mommy can hold you and love you while all sorts of disgusting fluids are leaking from the various orifices of your body.

Thanks to my momma, and hers and all those who have gone before. I love and admire you all!

**back to my mommy duties!**

Dreams

Dreams. Our imagination hard at work while we rest. How real they can seem, yes? It amazes me how a dream can determine my mood all morning. Last night my dreams were filled with old friends, loved ones, laughter and loss. All morning I have been sullen. An odd sadness overshadows this day, and although I have no reason to be down, I struggle to snap out of it.

This is where I beg to ask the question…do dreams so strongly affect others the way they do me? I vividly remember a time when I was young and I awoke in tears after dreaming my mother had died. If I dream someone has pissed me off, I awake ready to throw down (those times are a bit funny actually). Often I wake with a smile after dreaming of fun times with family and friends. However, just as often I wake with a deep sense of emptiness.

I dream of home, and all that I have missed. The family I have never met. The changes that occur without me. The life we left behind.

I dream of dear friends that have moved away. The people I shared pieces of my life with. The ones I won’t see for a long while. The ones I may never see again. People who touched my life and then moved on in search of a life of their own.

I dream of Alex. Simple things, like him playing with our kids or mowing the lawn. Sitting on the patio with Kim & Ronnie drinking a beer. Those dreams always seem to keep me down, because no matter how great my dreams of him are, I wake to the reality that he isn’t here and I am alone.

Ah. Deciding to make this one short. There are far too many thoughts in my mind and I am in no mood to make them funny.

Missing

Lost: One mind. If found please contact Randi Holt. Thank You.

For heavens sake, I can’t find ANYTHING!!! Since my sapphire fiasco, everything I touch seems to go missing.

Wednesday the 25th was our last Girl Scout meeting. We had a HUGE luau and took many photos. After clean up, I headed straight home, unloaded the van and chilled for a bit. When I fianlly decided to put everything away, I realized my camera was missing. I thought I had grabbed it, but I guess not. I jumped in the van and headed back to the hut, but found nothing. I am pretty sure no troops met after us, but who knows. The camera is gone. (Chill Al, I’ll find it). Such a bummer too because Ashton and Kayl took some killer pictures of me and Kim (like I need more of those).

Thought I lost my I-POD, can you imagine?! I can’t live without that thing. I went on a mad search of the house last night after the kids went to bed. Found it, thank heaven….but it had been missing since Friday.

Lost my set of keys on Saturday morning, but had found them by Sunday afternoon.

Now I can’t seem to find the coat hooks I picked up for the kids rooms. I’ve searched all the logical places, and some not so logical places….but to no avail. And I was so excited about hanging them this morning.

What is going on here? Oddly enough, I usually plunge head first into a panic attack when I can’t find something. It’s been that way for years. Keys missing? Search a bit then stand in the center of the living room spinning in circles and hyperventilating. Call Kim or my mom, calm down, search again.

Not this time. For the last couple of weeks I have been strangely calm. For heavens sake….I’ve lost my sapphire and a $500.00 digital camera all within a week of each other and I’m not yet hospitalized for observation. Something is very wrong here.

Perhaps I have finally perfected the art of desensitization. Even this morning as I sat discussing Ashton’s homework habits (or lack there of). She was her usual defensive self, yelling that it wasn’t her fault. I was calm and collected. I allowed her to rant and rave and then calmly explained my point of view.

Now honestly….anyone who knows us knows that Ashton and I are one in the same. Both stubborn, both hardheaded, both have to be in control, and both must always have the last word. I, like Ashton, do not take being yelled at very well. We tend to get into a battle of the wills, and always seem to end up so pissed we can’t be in the same room. (Man I love that girl….she is her mother’s daughter).

Anyway, this morning was completly unlike me. I stayed calm and quiet while she gave excuse after excuse about why she doesn't bring her homework HOME. She probably left for school thinking aliens had invaded in the night and swapped her mother for a look alike.

This is so odd, this more relaxed side of me. Nice, but odd. It will take a little getting used to. I really do hope the calmer me decides to stick around for a while. I just wish I could find my camera.

Potter

Okay, taking a risk writing this. I assume everyone has a guilty pleasure. A little something they love yet would not want to share with anyone for fear of being ostracized. For some it might perhaps be a music group…like secretly jamming to The Backstreet Boys when riding in your car with the windows rolled up. Perhaps it is renting Raise Your Voice on pay-per-view because you fear someone will scoff at your enjoyment of Hillary Duff movies. Or maybe it is a secret comfort…like a teddy-bear hidden deep in the recesses of your closet. THANKFULLY, none of these are my guilty pleasures. However, I do indeed have one. Mine….Harry Potter. I love the movies, I love the books even more. I am wildly addicted to everything Potter.

The truth is, when the books came out I couldn’t stand the thought of reading them. The fact that people were so “obsessed” with Harry Potter disgusted me. When the first movie came out I wanted NOTHING to do with it either, but my children begged and pleaded, so I gave in. We rented The Sorcerer’s Stone and I was HOOKED. Wow.

Alex had actually read the books long before I. He kept insisting that I needed to take the time to read them myself. Fine. I borrowed the first from Jazmin and all was lost. THE GOBLET of FIRE is by far my favorite. I have even decided that no one else in the world will be capable of pulling off a better “Tonks” than I. Watching THE ORDER of the PHOENIX may very well be torture knowing that I was meant to play that part.

A couple Januaries ago I was returning from Tokyo when Kim and I wandered into a Disney store. I spied a single Golden Snitch charm and grabbed it up. Kim said it would be the perfect gift for Kayl. “Oh no, this isn’t for him,” I replied….”it is MINE!!” It still hangs discreetly from my cell phone.

If you happen to wander into my bedroom and pick up the latest book I am reading (ANGELS by Marian Keyes) you will find tucked within the pages the Sorting Hat bookmark Kayl bought for me last year. And Shoved in the center of my magazine basket is the copy of Movie Magic that was wholly dedicated to the Harry Potter movies just prior to the release of Prisoner of Azkaban.

I’ve purchased the Harry Potter board game and trading cards for “my kids”. Who, I might add, enjoy the movies as much as I. And last summer I directed the children during Vacation Bible School wearing Rob’s Gryffindor tie. I offered to pay him for it, but he just couldn’t part with the thing. No worries, I have plans to buy one for myself at The Leaky Cauldron.com, along with a few other items. There’s a lovely Slytherin ring that would look fabulous on my thumb, or perhaps the charm bracelet! Classy!! (wink)

I recall one afternoon when I decided to settle in for a Potter-a-thon. The moment I realized my Sorcerer’s Stone DVD was scratched I rushed to the BX to replace it. Heaven forbid this house not hold the full set of movies for any length of time. I also own all the books in hardback. My treasures. They each hold a hallowed place on my bedroom bookshelf. No, I won’t loan them out! HA!

Reading the Potter books is a great adventure for me. I cannot explain to you the excitement that wells up in me when I think that July 16th of this year I will hold Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince in my hot little hand. I considered purchasing it online, but after I spoke with the manager at the Bookmark I decided I could just as easily be waiting at the door on that day. Just a forewarning: I will be unavailable for social calls that day…as I will be hold up in my room, my imagination lost somewhere in the HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY.


Okay, so perhaps I’ve gone a bit overboard with Harry-itis, however I am POSITIVE there are those who are thoroughly worse off than I. Honestly, I could be a Trek-ie. No offense to those of you who are. May you all “Live long & Prosper”. At any rate, the Potter series remains my “guilty pleasure”. Although I might not be able to call it “guilty” anymore considering I just shared it on my blog! The SHAME!!!

Carpets

Taking a short break from cleaning my carpets. I woke this morning around 4:30 and the thought occurred to me: That carpet cleaner has been sitting in my van since Thursday and I have to return it today! So up I jumped and began preparing the house for a “quick” carpet scrub, that is, after I made phone call to Alex, spent some time reading and sending e-mail, and read another chapter in my book. I wouldn’t want to neglect that. A girl really must have her priorities in order! Anyway, after all that stuff I prepared the house for the carpet scrub.

My living area now smells like bleach. Yes people I said bleach. I’m not completely sure if the housing office would be thrilled with my choice to clean their carpets with bleach water, but I have found that it is the ONLY way to get these carpets even semi-clean. As long as I am careful not to get to close to the red rug in my living room all will be well. I use a regular cleaning solution on that rug, but the rest of my house…bleach, bleach, and more bleach.

I scrubbed the floors only three months ago, but they are once again filthy. We don’t even wear shoes in this house, yet somehow the dirt rises from deep beneath the carpets to haunt my every waking moment. Okay, maybe it isn’t that bad…but it is dirty none the less and something has to be done.

Bleach is my great equalizer! Dirt and Germs Beware, I will hunt you down and find you. There is no room for you here. Yeah right,…no matter how often I clean there always seems to be more to do. Right now, the bathrooms could use a good cleansing, as could my pantry. My refrigerator thankfully is sparkling considering I scrub it every two weeks before I buy groceries. Well, that and the fact that it seems to leak water from the freezer so I have to sop it up every couple of days.

Even the outside begs for my attention. Although I often choose NOT to listen to that voice. My back yard needs picked up. Ashton seems to have decided that Harold’s cage will stand in the yard forever as a memorial to her two-day pet. Along with a set of Tristyn’s many pairs of slippers, (flip-flops to you back home). I just glanced out my bedroom window at the eyesore we call a swing set. It is only two years old; however, metal and the salt-air of Okinawa do not seem to get along so well. Whatever, it is still safe and the kids use it, so up it stays! My beautiful patio furniture looks so sad in the midst of the wasteland my children have created.

The front yard looks good, shockingly enough. It could use a mow and trim, but I have issues, so until I find a lawn guy…. I bought Braeden and Micaiah watering cans a couple months back and just as I had hoped they have taken to caring for the outdoor plants. Finally, someone who can grow things outside. I am strictly an indoor green-thumbist (now I am making up words). Oh, and lest I forget, there is much laundry to be done…much, much laundry. BLAH! My nemesis.

Back to the floors…..

Woo, another two rooms down. My fish are probably praying that death will come quickly. And poor Sumo, I won’t even let him walk around. He is stuck in the kitchen. My eyes are burning, perhaps I should open another window….ya think?! It smells like a swimming pool in here. A pool that has been overchemicalized (again, another made up word from the recesses of my mind. ha ha ha). Now if I can just get through the girls room, my room, and the disgusting entry floor, all will be SWEEEEET! I think I might be delirious. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Good Times!!

And cleaning resumes…..

AH!!! FINISHED! My eyes are about to float out of my head, and all my nose hairs are all burned out, but my carpets are clean clean clean….at least for a bit.

Ring

Okay, breathe, breathe. Oddly enough, I have been very composed during this difficult time – strike that, tragedy. I have lost my ring. Well, not the “ring” per-se', but the STONE from my ring. This is the ring that Alex had his grandmother send to me for our 10-year anniversary. I LOVE THIS RING! It is magnificent. A beautiful dark blue sapphire surrounded by eighteen diamonds. Stunning. It must have come loose when I was cleaning Braeden and Micaiah’s room on Wednesday. I remember hitting it against the wall, but it didn't seem loose when I checked it.

Saturday morning I decided to be lazy. I even skipped a baby shower because I didn't feel like getting dressed before noon. When I finally decided to drag my rear out of bed and hop in the shower, it was about 12:30. Lazy, lazy, lazy. Anyhow, after my shower I went through my usual regimen of lotion, blow-dry, iron clothes, make-up, dress, body spray, jewelry. I distinctly remember looking at the stone and wiping a smudge off it. Then I was out the door.

The kids and I loaded in the van and drove to Torii beach, music blaring, wind in our hair, my right hand hanging out the window….I may have lost it then, dunno. We arrived at the BBQ about 2:00. The kids were off to play at the park, or the beach, or both. I made my usual rounds…”Hi Rain”, “Heya, Joan”, “’Sup Dan and Ben”. There was much talking, which means my hands were moving 100 miles an hour. Moreover, I am a big hugger, so many pats on the back. Could have lost it then.

An hour or so into the BBQ Joan was introducing me to some new people when she says “Oh Randi, what happened to your ring?” What? I look down and staring back at me is a big empty space where my sapphire used to reside. *gasp* Oh god, what am I going to do?

Enter slight fear then composure. There was absolutely nothing I could do about this situation. I made a quick announcement to the group that the stone was missing and if anyone happened upon it could they please let me know. Then the search began. Fifteen grown men and a handful of women (not to mention all the kids) were walking around heads down scanning the ground. We must have been quite the sight! Bob was kind enough to ask where I had been standing….CURSES on my social butterfly status!! “Well, over there, and there, I was over there for a bit, and over here…” For heaven’s sake! Am I completely incapable of standing in ONE place for an hour?!

Joan and Rain kept insisting they would be in tears had it been thier ring. Nevertheless, I was not. For a brief moment, I thought my husband wound freak. Then I came to my senses and realized that Alex rarely freaks out about anything. He will likely never buy me another piece of jewelry, but he will not be upset.

I have since searched the van, the house, and we have even returned to the scene of the loss, but to no avail. The gem is long gone. I miss my ring. My finger looks terribly lonely and empty without it. There is a bright side however…this may very well constitute another trip to Thailand. Where better to pick up a shiny new sapphire?! If only I could convince Alex. If only!

My 2004 Hit Song

Vertigo by U2

"The night is full of holes Those bullets rip the sky Of ink with gold They twinkle as the boys play rock and roll" In 2004 you partied so hard... you forgot how to count.

What 2004 Hit Song Are You?

New Kayl

Style. It is a tricky thing. It varies from person to person, and in the worst of circumstances will skip someone completely.

My son Kayl may very well be the sweetest person I have ever met. Funny, kind, and obedient, I rarely have to ask him twice to do anything. He is helpful and quiet spoken, a hard worker, and determined young man. He is very much his father’s son. Unfortunately, like his dad he also doesn’t have much style sense.

I must break in and clarify here. For the last two years, my husband has done little more than exude style. He owns as many pairs of shoes as I. A few months back he came home from a trip, emptied his closet and re-filled it with one quick swipe of his hand. He has been known to muffle the mouthpiece when I am on the phone with him just to ask, “Do you have that in a large?” Oh yes, the man loves to look nice, and he does.

His hair is always perfect. His clothes always crisp and pressed before he walks out the door. As far as I am concerned, it is a rare moment when Alex does not look “tasty”. However, he is 29 and it took him a long, long time to reach this point. When he was young, he was the typical “cut off shorts and old ratty t-shirt” boy. He wore tinted glasses and let his very curly red hair run amuck. He would wear whatever he owned, regardless of style or age. I am pretty sure up until 3 years ago he still had an old blue “netted” football shirt hanging in his closet…OOOOO, scary! Anyhow, none of that matters now, it is all behind him and he has metamorphosed into this very stylish, absolutely yummy guy.

Kayl on the other hand seems to be stuck with his daddy’s “younger days” style. He really doesn’t care too much what he wears, any old shoes, any old shirt, ripped up jeans; it is no matter to him. His only request? Clean socks without holes, nice comfortable boxer briefs, and a haircut when it reaches his ears. It’s a start.

The other day I asked Kayl what he wanted for his birthday. All of my other kids thus far have gotten new clothes this year. I figured this is what Kayl would be getting also, but decided to ask anyhow. “Oh, I want a guitar or an MP3 player.” I quietly think to myself…no problem, Al bought him a new guitar on this trip and I intend on giving him my old MP3 player anyhow…so clothes it is. Notice, he never did ASK me for them.

Then Kim comes over for dinner. Now, Kim has two teenage daughters who seem to make an appearance only when they are bored and their friends know food is involved. So shortly after Kim arrives, “Vito” (De’jana) and 4 of her friends drive up. They invade the house, eat, drink, and chill. We were all having a good time listening to their many "teenage drama" stories and swapping ring tones.

One friend in particular seemed to stand out in the crowd, J’miah. This boy is loud, funny, and pristine from head to toe. Dressed in sparkling white tennis shoes, black Dickies, a white wife-beater and an oversized, royal blue button-down shirt. His baseball cap was flat billed and slightly ajar, and his “Friday only” earrings, that his parents hate, were sparkling in the light. They are 4-carat diamonds worn in each ear, put in every Friday after he leaves the house, and removed right before entering again.

After the kids got bored with us old folks and took off, Kayl walked into the living room sporting black slacks, a black belt, and a VERY oversized white button-down shirt with some odd sort of crest embroidered on the pocket. And to top it all off the shirt was snugly tucked into his pants. Oh heavens, This boy needs help. “Ms. Kim, can you get me some new clothes like J’miah’s for my birthday?” Kim proceeded to school Kayl in the art of style. “Don’t tuck Kayl, and although the button-down is nice, you should probably try one without a crest. Always layer with a wife-beater and Randi,” she said turning to me, “the boy needs some bling.” “He is crying out !” seems to be Kim’s phrase of late. Therefore, instead of games and toys, my son is getting a fashion makeover for his 11th birthday.

De’jana and Jazmyn took the initiative and gave Kayl an online tour of clothing stores. They patiently and excitedly showed him examples of what exactly he was going to need. Gave him tips on shoes, pants, and layering, and taught him the fine art of size selection. The boy was ecstatic.

The following day he began to fill online shopping baskets with his picks. He would carefully examine each item before adding it to his basket. He was adamant about having full outfits. He even added a swimsuit. When he had finished he called me to the computer, sat me down in the chair and left me to analyze each finding. I looked, added a few things, removed a few things, approved the final basket and clicked “ORDER”. In a couple of weeks, my son should have a lovely selection of button-downs, Dickies, under-shirts, and a new ball cap (my little surprise for him).

Kim and I have discussed making his birthday into a complete makeover session, complete with new outfits (courtesy of Auntie Kim), a new haircut, some new shoes (my addition), and an ear piercing. Kayl has been begging to have his ear pierced for two years now. Alex is completely against it….which is bull seeing as how he has two of his own. Nevertheless, we will see. I’ll just have to feel the situation out a little. Maybe I’ll even get the boy a manicure & pedicure. Hey, don’t give me hell about it. I know PLENTY of guys that do it. Makes ya feel good about yourself.

Either way, I can feel the tides changing in our home. I suppose my next step will be teaching Kayl how to iron his clothes and keep his shoes blazing white (thanks Kyle for the years of knowledge). Simplicity is about to fly out the window.

Ah Sleep

11:00pm and all is quiet. Yes, that is right; all my babies are sound asleep and have been for the last hour and a half. Now, this may seem quite natural to you, but in the Holt home, this is no small feat.

You see, I happen to reside in a home full of nocturnal children. My kids just DO NOT SLEEP!! Even after I send them to bed at 8:30, they will lay there reading, talking, and laughing. The decibel level in this house rarely diminishes before 11:00. This of course does not apply to Braeden or Micaiah. Braeden usually tapers down around 12:00. Moreover, Micaiah will not even THINK about sleeping until I am tucked comfortably under my covers. She will sit quietly at my feet, playing with Barbies or coloring until my light goes out.

I can’t recall if I was a night owl when I was very young, but I can remember staying up into the wee hours as a teenager. Then when Al and I lived in Colorado, I would stay up all night until he got home from work. In Colorado I didn’t mind that Ashton and Kayl stayed up all night with me because it meant they would sleep late into the morning, thus I could sleep late into the morning. As the kids got older I do believe their love for the night just caught on, and it seems to have been passed down to the younger children.

Now that the kids are in school the fact that they stay up so late drives me LOONEY!! They are not difficult to wake in the morning. In fact, the four older ones all wake and ready themselves, often without my ever knowing. I have even woke at 9:00am to find the house still and peaceful, then realized the time and jumped out of bed frantic at the thought that the kids were late for school. Nope, all was well. They made it just fine without me.

Nighttime is when I get my work done. I do laundry, read, e-mail, write, and I clean. This is my time….only it seems to be their time as well. Part of me envies morning people. I have always wondered if I would be capable of having a regular job. For heaven sake, I can’t even seem to be showered, dressed, done up & kids ready before 11:00 in the morning! The few morning appointments that I have been forced into have almost brought me to tears. If I am up early, the rest of my day is shot. I am tired & lethargic all day long. No people, I am not lazy. Where most folks sleep at 10:00, wake at 5:00 or 6:00, I sleep at 3:00 or 4:00 wake at 9:00. Basically, I am getting the same amount of sleep, just on a different schedule.

It is almost sad when Alex is home. Our sleep schedules fight each other. He has to be up at 4:00 in the morning and I don’t want to sleep until then. He’ll try to stay up with me, but to no avail. After a few days of that, and he is dragging. I do tend to fall asleep a bit earlier when he is home. Maybe by 1:00 or 2:00. Unfortunately, the habit seems to break the second he walks out the door again.

Maybe someday I will adjust my schedule, but right now, it works for me. It is times like these, when the house is quiet and all is still that I can relax. I think I will get off here and go clean my house, I have plenty of time before bed.

Decorating

Another 8 hours. This is the amount of time I spent at Kim’s tonight, re-decorating her bedroom. And I was OH so happy to do it. Considering I have been begging her for the last 5 years to allow me to create a haven for her.

We cleaned off dressers, drilled holes, hung curtains and turned that hodge podge catch all into a “Lounge of Luxury”. It is amazing the way watching a room come together can make you feel. I have re-decorated her living room and dining room. Held her hand as I urged her to let go of the overwhelming amount of Tupperware and Rubbermaid containers in her kitchen. Completely rearranged her office three or four times….I’ve lost count. We’ve re-done the upstairs hall and cleaned out numerous closets. All the while I would gently push (and sometimes shove) her to PURGE PURGE PURGE!!!

You see, Kim is a bit of a “pack-rat”. She just can’t part with anything. I do believe at one point she had seven salt and pepper shakers and three knife blocks in her kitchen. She has Girl Scout paperwork from 10 years ago and candlesticks that she has never used. There are school papers from years back, earrings the size of hubcaps, phonebooks from when we lived stateside, and more key chains than I could ever count. Enter...her best friend. I am a firm believer that memories are in your heart not the item. Honestly people, if it isn’t something you use regularly or that you have a place for, just dump it.

I have to give Kim credit, she has come so far. I now will walk into the house to find yet another box filled for the thrift store. I am so proud! I think she might even toss all the shoes that don’t fit comfortably on her shoe rack.

I must admit, I often find myself wondering why I put so much time, effort and imagination into cleaning & re-decorating Kim’s place when I could be focusing on my own. I suppose it is just more fun to decorate someone elses home.

I do tend to be a bit stingy when it comes to decorating. I don’t really let Kim help much….even if it is her house. She is usually in charge of handing me tools, keeping a full drink in my hand, and standing back to make sure everything is straight (which usually means her saying “I dunno, let me hold it & you look!”)

When I am decorating, I disappear into my own little world. Everything and everyone else seems to mute in my mind and I focus only on the room. Decorating is an art, like painting or composing. I walk into a room and feel the way it should be arranged. I can see the ideas in my mind before I pull them together. It is very comforting to watch someone enjoy living in a room you helped create.

Kim is learning to trust my taste in style. Decorating for her comes easily because we are such great friends. Amazingly, I have found that although I have decorated both her home & mine, they look almost nothing alike. The personalities of the houses are so different. Kim’s has sort of an “island cabana” feel and mine, I’ve been told, is like walking into a “Thai sanctuary”, whatever the hell that means! (Thanks Boon).

The best thing is that once my creative juices get flowing they tend to spill over into my own life. Tomorrow I will likely spend a great deal of time cleaning, purging and working in my bedroom (my latest project). Then I’ll head back over to Kim’s for her finishing touches. Another gratifying day!

Pet Update

In Remembrance of "Harold". The very short & sweet addition to our family.

Poor, poor Marsha is in tears. After tanning this morning, K and I ran out to Foster to search for Guinea Pig bedding. Jackpot! I bought two bricks of red cedar shavings for little Harold. Upon returning home, Marsha proceeded to carefully move Harold to a deep Rubbermaid container and set it high on the table.

As Marsha was hosing out the cage, Grag heard a small squeal and saw Sumo clinching poor Harold between his teeth. That dog must have worked very hard to reach that container. Grag yelled, Marsha screamed, and they both lunged at Sumo who immediately disposed of Harold in our yard. Holt kids & neighbor kids alike came running from all directions. "MOMMA, MOMMA HELP HIM!!!!!" As I sat staring into the large purple Rubbermaid box, I watched as Harold grasped for life. One, two, three breaths...And then he went limp.

Marsha broke into tears and I held her, my heart breaking for my baby girl. Jan and her friend Jane walked Marsha slowly to her bedroom, consoling her all the while. Grag disappeared for a moment and re-emerged with his friend Jon and a plastic sack. I tired desperately to pick Harold up, but couldn't bring myself to do it. So Grag gently lifted the Guinea Pig and placed him in the Girl Scout Cookie bag. He tied the bag, took the box, poured a bit of bleach in, and called for Marsha.

There, huddled around the metal garbage can at the side of the house, were all six of my babies and two little neighbor children comforting Marsha. "He was a cute guinea Pig," Jan said. "He was nice, but smelly.”Remarked Jon. "He will be missed," said Grag as he said a little prayer. I half expected Grag to whip out his guitar and lead the tiny congregation in song. Instead, everyone walked Marsha back into the house. I looked into her red eyes so full of pain and sadness, wrapped my arms around her and gave my condolences.

She will likely never look at old Sumo the same again. I probably wouldn't either. I suppose I will go buy her a flower and a card. Such a sad sad lesson to learn.

Pets

Oh My God, we have another pet. Marsha seems to have acquired a guinea pig, “Harold”. I’m not sure how it is we always end up with everyone else’s rejects, but we do. We’ve had quite the array of pets over the last 10 years. I do believe it all began with “Kelsey”.

Kelsey was the last of a litter of five. The boyfriend of a friend of mine was about to haul her off to the animal shelter when I “rescued” her. She was our supposed rat terrier, that turned out to be some odd mix between a terrier & hound…maybe. When we moved out of state and couldn’t find a house to rent that would allow pets, Kelsey became the loving pet of my in-laws. It was a good thing too; she is the spitting image of father-in-law…scruffy with a beard.

Let me think. In Washington, we had 3 goldfish that I killed. Grag will never let me forget that. Then, in an effort to save a full-grown German Shepard from the pound, we became a dog family. Let me warn you, I am not a fan of dogs, AT ALL. Besides the fact that I was pregnant at the time, which made me all the more pleasant to live with. I was MORE than relieved when the previous owners called from Korea and begged me to send her to them. Apparently, their kids were so terribly distraught at the loss of “Sandy” they were willing to pay any amount just to have her flown to them. K and I hauled that huge mutt to the airport and waved goodbye.

Later that year a friend of mine had a client that was the quintessential “old cat lady”. One of her many cats had a litter & thus, “Tipper” & “Shadow” came into our lives. Now cats I adore. I grew up with cats. They can take ya or leave ya…it makes no difference to them. Love you one minute & shrug you off the next. Little divas, they are perfect!

Shadow was a bit weird and ended up running off at some point. She wasn’t a big “people fan”. Tipper grew and had a litter of her own. Six to be exact. All were birthed under my bed, in the middle of the night, while Al’s parents were visiting. We decided to name each of the kittens for one of our kids. Marsha had “Angel” the runt that had to be fed through a medicine dropper. Greg’s was “Kosmo”, white with black spots. Jan had “Tigger”, I’m sure you can guess why. And Peter,“Ike” (we really just couldn’t think of any great “I” names). Bobby’s was a hoss named “Britches” who was completely white save for his black hind legs. And Cindy’s kitten was Missy. They all went to loving homes, which broke my heart because at that point I decided I wanted to be an old cat woman too. Nah, I really did want to keep Britches, but he had a bit of trouble with the litter box, so off he went. Shortly after Tipper ran off too, and we were again without any pets.

Off to Okinawa, where we have since had FIVE Betta (or Siamese fighting fish). All of my Bettas are named either “Sushi” (if purple), “Sashimi” (if red), and that one lone soldier I decided to name “N’Chips”. That makes them easy to remember and a bit of a conversation starter.

Less than a year into our tour here, I decided to give into the dog idea once again. As much as I would love to have another cat, it would mean giving up K, who is TERRIBLY allergic. So “Sumo” it is. He is a beautiful Golden Retriever, impeccably well behaved, and came to me already trained (my kind of dog). In Fact Sumo was such an amazing dog I went a bit insane and decided we need to get a puppy. “Rox” was our Canadian Newfoundland. Fluffy, stunning, and ROWDY. He ended up causing Sumo a great deal of stress (according to our vet), so Rox went to live on a farm.

Last year we had two Parakeets, “Dickey” and “Sunshine” both of which got sick and died…..odd. Now we have moved on to “Harold”. The neighbor girl said her mother was sick of him so I, like an idiot, said Marsha could have him. We’ll see how long this lasts. My kids are old enough to take care of their own pets, as long as they are caged and in their rooms! I’ll just stick with my Sushi, Sashimi & Sumo.

Mail

It had to have been about a month ago that I opened my mailbox and began shuffling through the envelopes. Bill, bill, junk, card, junk, junk...then my heart stopped momentarily as my eyes caught a glimpse of the return address in the corner of one particular envelope. El Dorado High school Class of 1995. Holy crap, my 10 year reunion. I hopped in my van and opened the letter, still feeling slightly light headed and short of breath. A quick read-thru informed me that our reunion would be at the end of September. Hmmmm...How am I going to pull this off? The kids will be only a few weeks into the school year, I'll have to find someone to keep my very large Golden Retriever, Al will likely be gone...again, and I get to fly all the way back to Kansas with six kids to attend a reunion by myself. WOO HOO!! Good Times!!

Oh come on! Let's be honest! A huge part of me is excited at the prospect of my reunion. I grew up with these people. I want to see Jas, Man, Sar, Jos, Mik, Tor, Mat, and Am. From the 1st grade these were the kids I stood next to in the lunch line, played 4-square with at recess, passed notes to during class, sang with in Encore, acted with in Drama, laughed with in between classes and celebrated with at graduation. These, and 200 more, are the names and faces that grace the pages of my yearbook. These were my friends.

So September it is. I'm not overly obsessed with the things I thought I would be. My weight, my job, my hair. I've no old flames to impress. I was already married! I am who I am and I'm happy with myself. Take me or leave me, I couldn't care less. Besides, those things aren't going to keep me from having a good time! For me, this reunion has nothing to do with comparing myself to the people I went to school with. I dig my life. I just want to see some old friends, catch up on the last ten years and hang out!

Hmmmm, according to this letter my reunion weekend is going to be full of tailgate parties, bonfires, football games, golf (blah), a tour of my old high school, and dinners with old pals. Not bad. Some of these activities will kill two birds with one stone as far as I am concerned. I 'll reminisce with old friends while watching my cousin play football, and maybe during that tour of the school I'll run into my little sister! (She'll be a senior). Lucky for me my entire family (and my husbands) still live in Kansas, so I'll get to visit the family. I'll even finally get the chance to meet my little brother G! (He'll turn one this June).

My one problem? With this letter came a reply card. No big deal, just some simple questions. Name: Ran D. Spouses Name: Al. Names of Children...yeah I turn to the back for that one! Where Do You Live: Too far. Occupation: Hmmmmm, Party liaison? No, no. Domestic Goddess? Defiantly not. Professional shopper? Possibly...nah...leave it blank. Favorite High school memory: ~favorite high school memory~ Alright, having a bit of trouble with this one. Do I have high school memories? Yeah I suppose. Let's see. Getting pregnant (twice), getting married (just once, hehe), missing 3 months of my senior year to hang out with Al in Colorado. Perhaps not what the reunion committee is looking for. I guess compared to the experiences I have had since, all of my high school memories sound a little corny. Singing, acting, laughing, slacking off. I can't even really pinpoint one memory. My mind is too full of them. (I'm a cancer).

So here I sit. 4 days before this little card is supposed to be in the hands of the reunion committee, and I can't think of one silly memory. Isn't it weird? Those were supposed to be the best times of my life, the best. Honestly, the last 10 years have been pretty great. The last 3 have been a blast. I've met some fabulous people, visited some amazing places and learned a lot about myself. Yeah, high school was fun, but it was nothing compared to my life since!

what age?

http://www.blogthings.com/whatagequiz/

32

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.
13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.
20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.
30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!
40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.

AAAHHH!!!!

Okay, four people have now asked me to go watch the re-make of the movie Amityville Horror. I have decided it necessary to Blog this little piece of my life so the ones I love so dearly will understand the FEAR THAT GRIPS MY VERY SOUL!!!!

When I was very little my family lived in a beautiful two story house that was ancient!! I don't ever recall being afraid of that house, of the dark, or anything much for that matter. I do remember the night all that changed. I must have been between the ages of three and five. I remember waking in the middle of the night. The house was dark and completely quiet. I don't recall if I made a habit of watching television in the middle of the night, but that night I did. I walked out of my room & down the winding staircase running my hand along the "fuzzy" wallpaper. I walked into the living room, switched on the t.v. and plopped down directly in front of it. (OOOOHHHHH, I have chills at the memory). I distinctly recall a man and a woman walking down a hallway, then the woman walked around a corner into a large room. She looked up at a gigantic brick wall and before my very eyes that wall began BREATHING!! AAAAHHHHHH!!!!! She screamed, I screamed. I smacked the off button as hard as I could, grabbed my babydoll and sprinted up those stairs as quickly as my little legs would carry me. I never knew the name of that movie and never bothered to find out.

About 6 or 7 years ago, Al and I were discussing my insane fear of scary movies when I decided to recount this memory for him. All the sudden his eyes got HUGE and he stared laughing uncontrollably. "Ran D," he said "that was a scene from Amityville Horror, that movie scared the hell out of me!!" After all these years, the movie that had scarred my very life had a name.

I have NEVER been capable of watching horror flicks. I tried Nightmare on Elmstreet in the 5th grade. Nope, I had my own nightmares for 3 weeks. Early in highschool I watched Candyman with Al. Oh heck no, I couldn't even look in a mirror without the someone in the room with me!! A few years back Al rented Ghostship. No problem, Al was home so I should be able to handle this, right? Nope. Again, nightmare after nightmare. Heck, even the bloody eye scene in One Hour Photo scared me. Then a couple of months ago K convinced me to watch The Grudge with her. Holy God, what was I thinking? I spent almost the entire movie cleaning my kitchen & humming to myself. Ridiculous!

K's advice? Sit through Amityville one time. Try to conquer your fear. You know what? I really don't care if her kids think I am silly for being afraid. It really doesn't bother me that I am raising 6 kids who are just as incapable of watching frightening movies as I am. It wouldn't faze me one bit if I missed out on every movie everyone ever wanted to take me to. I simply DO NOT enjoy being afraid. So, to all those I know & love that enjoy these movies, take a hint: STOP ASKING ME, IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN!!! Love to you all forever! (wink) ~Ran D.
** For the record, I can barely read back over this Blog entry the memories still frighten me so. Pathetic!! **

Summer

Summer. I can smell it in the air. It is mid-May and already my windows are closed tight to keep the humidity out and the air conditioning in. I love summer. As it approaches I watch the anticipation in my children grow. School is winding down, plans are being made and all the world is fresh and new.

Summer reminds me of awaking on Saturday morning to find all the windows open and REO Speedwagon blasting from the speakers. The summer breeze mixed with the faint scent of bleach and my mom standing on the couch cleaning the big mirror that hung on the wall. The sound of birds singing, children playing at the park across the street and the washer and dryer in the back room.

Summer meant evenings watching my mom and uncles at softball games. Playing with friends on one of the unused fields or exploring the train tracks on the hill behind the ballpark. It was sunflower seeds & licorice, the scream of adoring fans from the stands (us kids), and my mom in short shorts and a t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her shoulders (she is so beautiful!). After the game, we would load up and drive across the street to Dairy Queen where we would join what seemed like the entire community for a chocolate dipped cone.

Summer was finishing our chores before mom came home for lunch. Then we would be free to swim the rest of the afternoon away at the municipal pool. It meant splashing and laughing. High dives and Fun Dip candy. A few blocks walk to my cousin Shera's house where we would dance to U2 until we collapsed on the family room sofas.

It was amazing light displays over the Kansas prairie from electrical storms in the distance. Watching funnel clouds form over the lake and the mixture of excitement and fear as the air grows thick and still. There is nothing like standing in awe of the power and beauty of a tornado. Right before you sprint to the basement, that is! HA!

Summer is glorious! Fireflies, friends, sunburns, campouts, roller skates, cool breezes, porch swings, sprinklers, and freedom. I love summer.

Lights, Camera, ACTION!!

Here they come, giddy & smiling from ear to ear. “EVERYONE SIT DOWN!!! WE HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU!!!” I just know that I am being re-paid seven fold for the endless plays and musicals my family had to endure as I was growing up. There must be a drama gene in all little girls that explodes around the age of 9 or 10. Once again, my friend K & I sit and watch as our five daughters act out the numerous plays and dances they have so painstakingly rehearsed in their rooms. We obviously have an invisible stage located directly in front of our television. No harm in that, right? Simply forgo your choice of TV show for the evening & retreat to another room. Oh no, this stage can and will be transferred to ANY occupied room of the house, including the kitchen or bedroom. Don’t try to run folks, they WILL hunt you down & find you!

I do believe the girls last few performances have consisted of the same song & dance, only upgraded and improved. They dance & we laugh. I’m not quite sure if the laughter is from actual amusement or the delirium that is slowly taking over, but we laugh nonetheless. “PIZZA PIZZA! Hi, my name is "Marsha". PIZZA PIZZA! I do not mess around. PIZZA PIZZA! We turn around, touch the ground, get back up & pop it down.” This song continues on through all 5 girls, oldest to youngest, followed by "Jan’s" commentary….”Well, we used to say boogie down, but we changed it to pop it down because we like the dance move better.” Then Marsha, “No, no girls…that isn’t the way we practiced it, turn LEFT not RIGHT. Let’s start over!” AH!!! So close!

As K & I sit slouched on the couch, dazed by the third showing of the evening, we discuss our eternal apology to our families for our own invisible stages. 17 years later I can still remember every word to “Let’s go camping”, the rap my cousin Mike & I made up while on vacation in Yellowstone one year. Oh, we were so talented. The song was “sang” to the tune of Ice Ice Baby. (Yes, you read that correctly). “Alright, STOP, pack your clothes, throw in some jeans, & some doe. Drive for a very long time. Keep going, keep on going. After 3 days you’ll be there. You might even see a couple of bears. So Let’s go camping….Da na na na na na na. Let’s go camping....Da na na na na na na. At YELLOWSTONE, yeah. Oh man, were we COOL! I am 27 years old, singing a made up song, bobbing my head & doing all the hand actions…..Greeeaaat.

There was the brilliant “This is your Life” play for our grandpa’s birthday that conisted of 5 cousins and a pair of grandad's boots. And of course, my directorial debut, “The Birth of Christ”, preformed one Christmas in Aunt L’s family room. This one I remember quite clearly as I am the oldest grandchild, thus the bossiest. I can’t recall much about the play itself, just that I spent the majority of the time adjusting lines & stage direction. And that I had the distinct impression that this one dragged on FAR too long!

Those days hold fond (and often embarrassing) memories for me. I am sure they opened the door to my very wild & vivid imagination. I enjoyed acting well into my teen years, although those closest to me might say I still have a flare for drama (wink).

As I watch my little girls sing, dance and act out the SAME play for the umpteenth time, I keep in mind that this is what bonds us. Laughter. Sharing. Love. Creativity. These are sweet memories in the making, and I am going to cherish them. “PIZZA PIZZA…..”

My Family Christmas 2004

Laundry

AH, another day another dollar....unless you are a mom, then the saying should go: another day another PILE OF LAUNDRY!! Honestly, when does this end?

I'm not sure why I have such trouble keeping up with the laundry. It shouldn't be that difficult, but it is. I usually keep the laundry room door tightly closed for fear someone might catch a glimpse of Mt. Washme (as my husband so lovingly refers to it). A dear friend of mine once made the terrible mistake of being nosy and opening my laundry room door. Before I could tackle him to the floor & shield his eyes from the horror that lay within, he laughed "What happened? Did a laundry bomb explode in here?" Good grief people, didn't your mothers ever teach you to leave closed doors CLOSED!?!?!?!

My mom was a single mother, who worked full time and went to school at night. Such an amazing woman. If ever there was a reason to have a laundry pile, she had one. But do you think we had one stitch of dirty laundry in that house? Heck no. That woman mastered the art of laundry scheduling. Obviously I did not get my "laundry gene" (or lack thereof) from her. What excuse do I have exactly? No, not the "six kids" one, truth be told I could be washing or drying a load right now, but instead I stare at the pile next to me and write about it.....THE SHAME!!

My friends have tried on numerous occasions to school me in the art of laundry procedure. "Don't keep laundry baskets in every bedroom, they will only fill up and then you'll have 6 baskets full before you do more." or "Have your kids put their dirty clothes outside their door every morning." and my personal favorite "Make your kids do their own laundry." All of this insight has been so very helpful, however I still seem to struggle. My husband's advice? Let's get a mama-san to do all the laundry. HEAVENS NO! I can't stand the thought of someone else trying to figure out who wears size 7 flare bottoms & who owns the blue Orange County Chopper shirt. OR perhaps I simple want it done my way .

Shockingly enough I am very picky about the way my laundry is done. Everything must be separated; darks, lights, towels, jeans, whites. And if the pile is too large, then by color; black, red, blue, green, etc. I start the washer first; cold water-permanent press, warm water-jeans and towels, hot water-whites. I then add LIQUID detergent and if I am washing jeans Clorox OXY Clean, or if whites then 1 1/4 cup bleach. I fill the Downey ball then add the clothes. When they are moved to the dryer I then must add a Bounce dryer sheet, two for jeans (no static cling in my house). If I don't get to the dryer right as it buzzes I must run the dryer again. This is a little habit I picked up from my mother. Clothes MUST come out of the dryer warm & wrinkle free. If I happen to notice a stain or rip an any of the clothing it is thrown directly into the garbage. I haven't time for mending and re-washing. From the dryer the clothes are placed directly onto hangers. All the clothes in my house belong on hangers save for jeans, socks, underwear & linens, these items are folded.

Folding. This is another disorder completely. I seem to suffer from some freakish form of perfectionism where if the towels aren't folded half-half-third I hyperventilate (thanks mom)! Please do not mistake this for OCD. No, those who suffer from OCD have stunningly beautiful and clean houses. In my little world if there isn't time to do the job correctly and completely the first time, then it is better left undone altogether. This means things do indeed get left unfinished in my house (like laundry). Yes I know...psycho....but there is no need to fear, I don't bite.


About once a year Mt. Washme threatens to erupt and I must resort to desperate measures. The laundry mat. What a nightmare. If ever you walk into a laundry mat that looks completely empty yet 20 of the 22 washers are occupied, chances are you will find me sitting atop one of the tables, listening to my I-POD or reading a book. Good Times! I can't stand the laundry mat. The clothes never seem to come out of the washer as clean, or out of the dryer as fresh. But when it is done, it is done. At least for a couple of days!

Currently my laundry room door stands wide open. Clean clothes overflow from the six baskets sitting on my deep freeze. Every available hook and doorknob is straining under the weight of hangers. And there is a fresh basket of socks smelling of bleach. I love when my laundry room is clean. But I won't get too excited, the kids will be in to clean their rooms in 45 minutes, which means my seemingly clean laundry room will once again be occupied by Mt. Washme. Oh yes, and there is this one pile currently staring up from my bedroom floor. Heaven help us all!