Stress Stress Stress

Most days have some element of stress in them. Then I have days of overwhelming stress. Today is one of those days. And while I am musing about the source of my stress, I thought writing would be helpful. So here we go... Why am I feeling such huge stress today?

Could it be….

The capes I have to get done from start to finish and get mailed today, not only the busiest day of the year at the post office, but on a Monday which I am advised to avoid year round by my friends at the post office. (they are my friends now because I see them all the time.)

The last minute project for Brandon that he can’t procrastinate another day? This would be to make an Egyptian food and bring it for the class. It was actually due 1 ½ weeks ago... but like I said about the procrastination. Now we chose a recipe that shouldn’t be too stressful – If I didn’t have about an inch of milk left in our last milk carton. (I didn’t realize I was out of milk until this morning). So, we are going to have to head to the store to get the milk and little cups, THEN get the stuff made and taken to the school before 12:00.

Our house smells like the fish we ate last night for dinner. Normally this would be unusual, but we didn’t get around to doing the dishes last night. Waking up to a fish smell when you are pregnant… wow. Nothing to make you feel better!

I forgot to take my pills last night before going to bed. The effects are pretty immediate.

Before I take a shower I need to go digging for my laundry. I have had to do this for about a week now, as well as the rest of my family. My kids need help finding socks, Ryan and I don’t have garments. I am out of pants. My laundry has been in the process of getting done but I haven’t had the time to finish and then sort it. And in the process, it looks like I haven't done anything because the laundry multiplies while we all sleep.

My bathroom that I will shower in that hasn’t been cleaned for about a month… (I can’t believe I am admitting this.)

My boys’ sideburns that desperately need to be trimmed. I had to help Brandon try to tuck his behind his ears now for two mornings in a row. Ryan had 2 job interviews last week with “wings” as I call them (side of hair long and flowing).

While I am at the store – should I get the milk, butter and bread that we are totally out of? How about the shampoo Brandon said he is completely out of? (Of course he doesn’t tell me until the moment he is all the way out. Typical male.) Can I allow myself to buy this a Maceys or do I HAVE to make a trip to Walmart?

Rachael’s first dance recital is tonight. She will want everything perfect. :)

All the little things… the girls activity day pictures I was supposed to have turned in yesterday, that I stayed up too late last night, that Jacob took 20 minutes in the bathroom “brushing his teeth” to tell me he can’t put the toothpaste on the toothbrush. You know, kid things.

By the way… Jacob’s constant question he keeps asking me (besides what day is it, is it a Nintendo and TV day, and is what he is eating healthy or not healthy) is what does Lode in Lode Runner mean? Does anyone know? I keep trying to put him off and tell him I don’t know because I don’t play that game. But he keeps asking.

Crazy Crazy Crazy

Just wish me luck! And then come clean my bathroom and do my laundry! :)

The truth about bovines

Well, blame my schedule I guess... I haven't written for some time. Life is busy and only going to get busier! Ryan and I and the fam went on a trip to Washington State to visit his family, many of which live in a little city called Cheney. While there, I learned how I have been lied to my entire life about a very important subject. Not only have these tales of falsehood come from books, movies, family and even TEACHERS, but they are ingrained in even the youngest of children. Hang on to your buttons... what I am about to reveal may be shocking to many of you.

Did you know a cow cannot be male? Yes, that is true. A cow is only female. I know I know... sounds fishy, but it is true. You may wonder how this is possibly correct when obviously more cows are produced all the time. (biology... 7th grade) However, I learned that in the species of bovines, female bovines are called cows. You milk them, they have babies. If you want a male bovine, you want a bull or steer. The difference between a bull and steer is that a steer is a fixed bull. (Meaning he can't reproduce) When ranchers (very different from farmers, but another story) have their fields of bovines, they have many cows so those cows can produce milk and make more cows, and only ONE bull. That is because at a ranch, bulls are very um... territorial and well - polygamy is practiced in those fields in abundance. The rest of the bovines that are born, kept, and male, are fixed so as to not encroach on the "king bull's" territory. Those are the source of meat we eat. (raised and then sold for hamburgers and steak and roasts - YUM!)

Another interesting fact - You can tell the type of cow and the milk it will give by the coloring of the cows. Now my in-laws explained this complicated system to me and the only thing I can remember is that holstein cows are black and white and they produce milk with higher cream content - used to make ice cream and stuff. But there are actually 3 kinds of cows that produce 3 different kinds of milk and are used for 3 different types of food - from the milk we drink to the ice cream we eat. And I asked what happens if there is a mixed breed (like only half holstein cow half another kind). That question obviously had never been asked before and after getting odd looks they told me that doesn't happen. Hey - why not? If you can have mutts and mixed breeds of all other animals, why not cows and steer? But I guess that doesn't happen in the world of bovines.

So I thought about this subject for a long time. Why do they call all bovines cows when we are little? Did I only learn about female bovines my entire life? Now that the knowledge has settled in, I was teaching nursery today and we were singing Old Mac Donald had a farm. I picked a 'bovine' (aka cow) to sing about next and had to stop myself. Will those nursery kids understand if I give them a lesson that Old Mac Donald actually had a bovine and we sing it that way? How do we know that he only had cows and not steer too? Do steer not moo? It's a sexist world if you ask me. And now I have to contribute to it! But when opportunity arises, I will be sure to explain the difference and do my part in correcting this wrong that those of us average intelligence have been told. Think about that next time you pass a field of ... bovines!

"Going" to eat jelly bellies

Okay, so I like Jelly Bellies. I like them because there is all this variety of taste in these little pieces of candy. It is fun to open a big Costco size container and grab a handful and see what you get. My problem is that I enjoy eating one at a time to experience the flavor burst - which is usually a mystery. BUT I find myself getting anxious reading email or listening to the kids fight and will find myself popping 3 or 4 in my mouth at the same time. Now this normally wouldn't be a problem if they were all fruit flavored, but I think a few minutes ago, I ate a coffee, cinnamon, cherry, and peanut flavored together. It was definitely a flavor burst - but not necessarily a pleasant one. So I think to myself - okay I will eat these two red ones together. BAD IDEA! Red is one of the worst ones to guess on. I ended up with cinnamon and either apple or cherry (the cinnamon was a little strong) in my mouth. So, back to being forced to eat one at a time in case of a mishap or poor choice in flavor combinations.

Brandon told me a few months ago how a lot of the kids in his grade were going on dates. I was pretty surprised to hear it because hey - if your mode of transportation is a scooter, bike, or skateboard, how much fun can you really have? And hey, do parents really let their kids disappear for hours without wondering where they are? (probably)

So after asking him further about it, he was saying he heard lots of kids asking if someone of the opposite sex will "go with" them. I think he assumes this is a date (which he knows is not allowed). I remember that phrase being used in middle school, but I was 14, not 11. So, today he told me that this girl came and told him he should ask her friend to "go out" with him. I asked him what he said and he said it was right after school so he said he didn't know and ran to the van to ask me what he should do. See, the problem is that I think he really does like this girl, and is totally confused at what it means to "go out" or "go with" a girl. And he should be. I asked him what that would mean. Does that mean that if he was "going" with this girl he would be expected to hold her hand or call her on the phone? Do I want girls calling Brandon on the phone? (NO NO NO!!!) So we had a chat about how it really would be better to just get to know this girl and be good friends. Plus if it didn't last (I chuckled inside because - yeah like it would last) how awkward it would be to break up and then you wouldn't want to talk to her and it would just ruin things. Hopefully I have enough influence to keep him making the right decisions. If not, then let the games begin! I will have Brandon so busy at home he won't have time to think about girls. (he he he - evil laugh) :) What has this world come to if these kids are doing these things this early!

Yummmmm!

Okay, so tonight was one of those nights... Ryan came home at 6:00 as Brandon was leaving for scouts and I had been doing capes all afternoon so I hadn't had time to cook anything. I love breakfast at dinner as long as it is hearty and filling enough to get through bedtime. I pulled out one of my favorite breakfast recipes and remembered how much I love it, and so I decided to post it to all my bloggers. By the way, it was given to me by a good friend Labretta Woodland, who is a fantastic cook.

French Toast

Toast:
2 eggs
1/2 c. french vanilla coffee creamer (liquid, not the powder) Well worth buying this ingredient!

1 TB vanilla

Make french toast - you know the drill.

Syrup: (the best part!)
1/2 c. real butter
3/4 c. sugar
1/2 c. buttermilk (or milk soured with lemon juice for a couple minutes)
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp vanilla

Melt butter over medium heat. Add sugar and buttermilk; bring to a boil. Remove from heat, add baking soda and vanilla, then stir. The syrup will begin to froth when the baking soda is added. Make sure not to make the syrup to soon before the toast is ready or it will loose its froth. (You can reheat syrup in the microwave)

So, if you want to impress a visitor, or make a special dinner, try this recipe. We call the syrup "butter syrup" and my kids LOVE it!

The big news

Well, to all you blog readers of mine - just some more exciting news to add to the Passey family chaos... a sixth Passey child. Yes, I am expecting and now far enough along to not be as nervous about loosing the baby. (last time was terrible). I am about 12 weeks, due in May. You may think it is just one more kid for us, but once again, this kid will force us to make some major changes in our family needs.
-That makes us too big for a minivan - we will have to sport a Suburban, Mormon van, or small school bus. I actually prefer an RV - one of those huge ones. But that may not be in our budget.
-We will now require a 5 bedroom house wherever we live (luckily, we have the room here - we just have to convert it back into a bedroom).
-I will have to say goodbye for an indefinite (very possibly permanent) time to my cape business. (I plan to do this after the new year starts)
-Ryan will have to find a new job. (Suburbans, vans, and school buses are expensive)
-And I get to start mothering in the baby stages all over again. At least Cameron isn't out of diapers yet. He and the baby will be 4 years apart. I don't know where the time went. But I couldn't have done this a moment sooner. (Or even this moment. But here we are!)

Now if I can just get Cameron to flush the correct things down the toilet. I guess as long as Cameron doesn't flush the baby down the toilet... (how would I get him/her out?) It all could be worse, right? :)

And it all goes down again....

Well, the good news is that my kids bathroom floor just got a great thorough cleaning. As did the carpet outside the bathroom door. And the toilet now smells... well I would say minty fresh, but my kids don't like minty toothpaste so I get that Crest sparkle and I personally don't know how that smells.

Every homeowner hopes to never walk by a bathroom and see water seeping out into the carpet. Including ME. And yet, this morning, water was pooling out of the bathroom door into my carpet. I open the door slightly to find my naked 3 year old in the bathroom by himself standing on a stool and water EVERYWHERE! LOTS and LOTS of water. I quickly look around to see where the source of water is coming from and well... it became apparent to me quickly by the toothpaste and glow stick in the toilet and the toilet water sky high that the toilet was the source. I get him out and ask him...

"Cameron did you flush things down the toilet?"

"Yes"

(now remember the toothpaste and glow stick I saw currently stuck down the hole)

"What did you flush down the toilet?"

"Soap. And a lid."

My heart beats faster (didn't expect that answer)

"What else?"

"Two cups."

"What else?"

"Toothpaste." (whew! I finally got to the toothpaste)

I stopped there. I knew enough. I was a little overwhelmed by the mess. Where do I start? The naked kid, the water seeping into my carpet, the water standing everywhere else?

Well, I decide, naked kids are fine and send him into my room. I gather up towels and set them down on the carpet and floor and quickly realize that I am going to need more towels. Lots more towels. I run downstairs to my bathroom down there and grab lots of extra towels. All of them were totally soaked, as was the bathroom rug so I got a large kitchen garbage bag and started piling them in. Ryan's suggestion (may I add he said some comment about how life's challenges build us up or something and I told him that is easy to say sitting at his desk in peace 45 minutes away) was to get out the carpet machine to suck the water out of the carpet, which I did. Then I cloroxed everything. Someone's poor toothbrush was on the floor. Too bad - it's not worth saving. An entire roll of extra toilet paper was on the floor and wow, do they expand when they get completely wet. And at least I can say, an hour later, that my bathroom floor is clean, the toilet sparkles (because of the sparkley toothpaste) and I didn't even need to use my closet auger I bought before. My nifty plunger plunged just fine! What an expert I am becoming! (I am so proud of myself!)

Going down down down

Brandon has this Bionicle game that he got last Christmas that he guards with his life. I think we have played it once because he keeps it under his bead, away from little brothers, and only older people can play with it. Well, today, he let Jacob play with the little guys and was trying to teach the game to him. Some of the pieces of the game are little Bionicle figures, less than an inch tall, and a small ball and sling shot you use to shoot the ball at the bad guy. When conference started, they were still in the middle of the game and so I told them to just leave it in the Living room and come watch conference.

Well, Cameron came to me during the intermediate hymn and said something that sounded like "I lost the ball." He was holding the sling shot to the game so I knew what ball he was talking about and I just said, "Well, go find it." He said again..."I lost the ball". I said "Well, do you know where you lost it?" trying to think if there were places the ball could have been lost "permanently". He said "No mom, I flushed the ball in the toilet." which is what he was saying before - flushed instead of lost. I said "You flushed the ball down the toilet?" He smiled and said "Yes and it went down down down."

I was sick. Brandon was downstairs and I thought I would have to think of a new ball to use as a replacement before I told him. I scolded Cameron and told him how sad Brandon would be and took him downstairs to tell Brandon. When we got there, I told them what happened and when Brandon and Ryan said "What? He flushed the ball down the toilet?" Cameron added- "Yes, and a little bad guy too! And it went down down down." this time showing us by bending down a little each time he said down. UG! I can replace a ball, but replace a little guy? Brandon was not happy and once more Cameron was told the only things we flush down the toilet are... (you can fill it in).

So, tomorrow morning, I will have to look online for replacement parts to the game. A couple of weeks ago, we had a clog in the toilet for a WEEK that we had to finally buy a closet auger (specialized plumbing snake for toilets) and two different plungers before getting it out. I spent hours and hours plunging and working on that toilet. In tears, I finally called a friend to come and help me. Again, we worked and worked and were finally able to get it to unclog using the auger. I don't know what was flushed, but the experience today with Cameron confirmed that it could have been anything... The sad thing is that I really can't rule my youngest 3 kids from flushing random things down the toilet. It could have been any of them! Either that, or MAN we have got to start eating more fiber!

The cat's out of the bag

I saw a friend of mine the other night at Walmart. She happens to be in our ward and is Brandon's 6th grade teacher. She told me a funny story that happened at school on Friday.

She was talking to another teacher in his room and said she kept hearing a meow. She asked him if he could hear it, and he said no so she went looking around. She couldn't see anything out the windows, or in any of the nearby classrooms. She started thinking the cat might be in the heating vents somehow or some weird place like that when she walked past a coat rack and heard the meowing louder. She stopped and started looking in the backpacks and when she unzipped a backpack, she saw a kitten looking up at her. The kitten was wet and at the bottom of the backpack was a hot dog. She took the poor kitten out and took it to a classroom and fed it some sloppy joe meat and then went off to find out whose backpack it was. It belonged to a 5th grade girl who apparently found the cat on the way to school. She and her friends had been taking turns going to the "bathroom" so they could give the cat some water (by dumping some into the backpack). The teachers were really nice and let them keep the cat until the end of school and they could take it home.

Sadly enough, I wouldn't be surprised if Kristin did that. And many other kids would probably do that too. It reminded me of when my Dad put a metronome in his locker at school (middle or high school) and turned it on and then went to class - just to see what would happen. Well, in the empty hallways, you could hear the tic tic tic of the metronome and an administrator or teacher thought the sound coming from the locker was a bomb and called the bomb squad in. Nowadays, that would get you in a lot more trouble than I think it got my Dad in.

Stop picking your nose with your tongue!

Okay, so admittedly, there are lots of things I end up saying as a parent that I never dreamed I would say. Things like "it only has a little bit of dirt on it, so eat it anyway" or "do you want a cookie or a fruit snack for lunch?" or "well, your shirt may be in the washer but those clothes have been in there for a week so I gotta wash them again".

But I really never thought I would have a kid talented enough to have to say "stop picking your nose with your tongue!". Yes, it is a trick my 5 year old has learned. He first showed it to me at a soccer game. He ran over excitedly and said "look what I can do!" I was so proud. And all the other parents surrounding me were so impressed. It was a love fest. Actually, I quickly said "Jacob, stop doing that! Just go play soccer!" Unfortunately, between the random ninja moves and tongue up his nose, he didn't have a great soccer game and it just brought more attention to him. One parent said "I just love how Jacob is playing soccer today! He is acting just like a boy... like there is nothing else in the world except what is going on in his head!" I chuckled.

Sadly enough, this new talent has carried over from the soccer game and once again - I find myself saying - "Jacob, stop picking your nose with your tongue!". I have to admit though, that I am ever so slightly impressed that his tongue can reach so far. Lets hope he stops before he is old enough to date!

We also had a gerbil die. I actually found myself saying "Woo hoo! One down, one to go!" but I had to act empathetic about the gerbil when we told the kids. Before I knew it, Kristin had reached her hand into the cage and was holding his stiff body crying. (I don't know how long it had been dead... but for probably almost a day). And we remembered the happy times of this gerbil's life. I reminded my crying children about how cute and small Tiny was when he was born... how we used to have to feed him with a syringe because there were too many babies (7 I think) in the litter and he was the runt. We remembered how cute they were all cuddled in a pile next to their Dad and how they would just fall down the tube because they couldn't figure out how to get up and down. Pretty funny. Then once again I find myself saying something I never thought I would have to say as a parent. My conversation with Kristin (my seven year old) went something like this.

"Mom, can I sleep with Tiny in my bed just this night."

"No, Kristin, we don't sleep with dead gerbils in our bed."

"Mom, PLEASE! Just tonight!"

"Kristin, NO! Say goodbye to Tiny now and go to bed by yourself. And please wash your hands REALLY good with LOTS AND LOTS of soap."

And then the inevitable question... "well what are you going to do with Tiny?" Should I lie and tell her that I will bury the gerbil in a special place in our garden? I don't know how she would deal with knowing that Ryan or I either throw it away in our garbage or toss it in the field. You can't flush a gerbil and if we made a grave site for our gerbils... well lets just say our yard is small enough as it is. So I tell her - "Don't worry, Dad will take care of him when he gets home." Luckily she trusts Dad enough to not worry about it much more. The kids know Dad doesn't throw anything away! :)

Being thankful

So, school shopping for my kids this year was less painful for me than any other year has been. Now, if you were to ask Brandon, he would tell you differently, but hey, isn't that every boy? I think if I could walk into a couple stores with unlimited funds and buy complete outfits without looking at price tags or wondering if the item I bought on clearance at Old Navy was going to go with the item on clearance at Target, then it would be easier and much more enjoyable. I find a certain satisfaction with finding deals. I have X amount of money to spend on 3 kids complete school shopping for supplies, shoes, clothing, and whatever else they deem crucial to their school year. How far can I make that amount of money stretch? Well, one thing that helped greatly is my Mom taking my two little boys so I could just concentrate on the three older kids. The only running we did was from one clearance or sale rack to another. If my little boys were with me though... there would be running to keep the clothes racks from falling over and my boys from pulling fire alarms, pushing the red alarm button in elevators, or going out of doors that are alarmed. (all of which have happened with one kid or another at previous shopping trips) You should see how quickly sales associates come over to glare at you when an entire clothing rack falls to the floor. And you should see how quickly I exit when they come running. (yes that did happen once to me when my 3 older kids were little and playing hide and seek in the clothing racks at JC Penny)

Anyway, my problem this year was that I knew that if I stretched my dollar enough that I could get my older three the necessities until winter. I don't go into malls or anything like that very often, but when I do, we inevitably pass some nice looking women's clothing store and I think how much I would love to buy myself a new outfit - especially a coordinating outfit. Not a clearance old navy polo that I know will match my one pair of blue jeans. Anyway, I am the mom and come last in the shopping pyramid (that was determined hundreds of years before I was even born) and so I am happy to sacrifice for my kids.

However, the wishing and coveting of the fancy clothes stayed with me longer than usual. And I found myself STILL pouting the next day - which happened to be Sunday. I had a sick kid (he actually fell over in his chair in primary before I thought of checking him to see if he was okay) and went home early from church. I checked my email and had two emails in my mailbox. One email was a request from a lady for a super cape to be made for her niece who had just been diagnosed with cancer and would be undergoing chemo. They wanted her to feel like the superhero she was during her treatment. Of course, I was happy to oblige, and I make all capes for kids who are sick free. I feel it is the least I can do. Plus, can you think of a better example of a superhero?

The other email was from a lady I gave a cape to last year. Her husband had emailed me saying she wore an old cape to each Chemo treatment she had since she was diagnosed with cancer and he wanted to get a new one personalized for her. He invited me to sign up for her blog on the Care pages network (an online support network for sick people and kids). It has been over a year and a half now and I still follow her progress. She is remarkably strong and I love reading each post to hear how her progress is coming. Her cancer trial is much harder than most. She found out she had cancer during her pregnancy at age 26. She had 3 tumors in her pelvis (the three amigos she calls them) and after delivery of her baby, they began treatment right away. The tumors were so large they tried to shrink them with high intensity treatments before surgery. She had surgery last spring and they had to remove part of her pelvis and replace it with part of the bone from her femur. She is not allowed to put any pressure on her leg since and wears a brace from her chest to her toes each day all day. Each day she gets to spend with her little boy is a blessing to her and she embraces him as often as she can be with him. I read her update and for the first time, emailed her and told her of my feelings of admiration I had for her.

Needless to say, by the time the rest of my family made it home from church, I had been humbled. I had been reminded that although I don't wear fancy clothing or the latest fashions I am blessed in different ways. I would not trade my situation for either of the people who had emailed me in a moment. To have a child with cancer or cancer myself and not be able to be with, hold, or take care of my children would be very hard. I didn't pout again. Funny how the Lord finds ways to humble your heart and teach you about being thankful.

Well, this is a much more serious post than I ever mean to write. But since my husband and son are at a scout camp, I have some peace and time to think. I will have to stop and find something else to do though... thinking philosophically is exhausting. I can think about cleaning the pee around the base of the toilet tomorrow, or all the projects that are looming in my home. (Our home is falling apart!). I can think about that chocolate I ate last night that ruined my healthy eating habits, or the best, most fulfilling way to destroy a scale. I can even think about the shock of my poor cousin who had a surprise pregnancy and just found out she was having twins and how grateful I am that I am not in that situation! (congrats to her though! :) )

Good night everyone! Peaceful dreams! And if you do have a kid who pushes that red button in an elevator, and sirens and lights start going off and the elevator stops... most buttons just pull back out and the alarms will go off again. (You never know when that piece of advice will be helpful!)

It's all fun and games...

I was trying to think of a good title to this blog and hey, you can end this phrase with about anything at our house.

It's all fun and games until....
You get your head jammed into a door.
You fall down the stairs holding a kid.
You find an under-aged kid holding open scissors alone in your room.
The dry erase marker doesn't come off the wall.
Your son licks your leg, feet, or face, because he thinks he is a dog.
You find 3 entire cereal boxes spilled on the floor.
You find wrappers and remnants of 12 boxes of fruit snacks in your daughters bed and a large package of oreos in her drawer, and 2 boxes of capri suns.
And a cube of butter under her pillow.
Your gerbils who are both boys have their second batch of babies in less than a month.
You have played I-Spy on the same route to and from school for 3 weeks.
Someone decides they "forgot" to do their homework at 10:00 pm.
and the list goes on....

I hear that I will miss these days, and I truthfully believe it. But I have never been a good journal writer. I have been thinking about starting a blog for awhile now and I suppose that finding humor in my days will help me appreciate this crazy time in my life. I have been so inspired by Dawn Meehan's ability to find humor in her kids. I find her fascinating. In case you may not know who she is, she is the Mom who posted a fantastic story about how Pokemon cards ended up in her shopping cart on eBay. She has been sprung into celebrity hood instantaneously - and for good reason. Here is a link to her blog...
http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/
and a link to a newspaper article written about her since her famous debut on eBay. http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-bloggermom_03sep03,1,987830.story?coll=chi_tab01_layout .

Am I obsessive? Maybe. She writes how I feel and I am obviously not the only one who can connect with her. I am inspired by chaos. Especially if it isn't my chaos. :) I guess I like feeling like I am not the only one who was propelled into motherhood with false expectations of folded laundry, made beds, home cooked meals, and kids who adore you. I enjoy surrounding myself with less than perfect moms who maintain normal messy houses and have normal less-behaved kids.