Tuesday Morning

Approximately 9:56 am this is what my three children at home are doing:


Afton hard at work in the cupboards

Russell hard at work folding clothes. This was a completely self-directed activity. He noticed two baskets full of clean clothes and started pulling his items out to look at, which led to him folding his clothes, which led to him folding others' clothes, which led to him folding nearly a whole load of laundry. Awesome! After he finished he said to me, "Mommy, did I give a gift to Jesus?" Children are so great in reminding us where our focus should be!! And bonus, he gave a gift to me too.

Eliza was hard at work chilling with her pillow, blanket, a musical house and Christmas music playing on the stereo. She was only on her third repeat of this CD. I love Christmas music . . . and then sometimes I can't wait to put it away for another year.

Not pictured: Me, hard at work in my pjs, cleaning up the kitchen. Oh, I may have been eating a treat or two. So maybe I wasn't that hard at work. Bon-bons anyone?

Treats

Made and happily consumed . . .

very happily!!

Writer's Block

It's bothered me; the silence on my blog. My inability to blog. But hence, I've had this writer's block. Maybe it isn't the lack of thought or ability to write but the ability to put into words what I'm thinking and feeling. Let's just put it this way: Moving is a lonely business. What else can I say about that?

So here were a few recent scenes from my home the first week of December.

A view from my front door. Jaron's foot prints heading down the sidewalk on his way to the bus. This was at 4 in the afternoon. No other foot prints coming or going. See why I say moving is lonely. I wish my post man would even ring the doorbell when he is dropping off a package. I'm strange, I know.

Hours spent pouring over books and magazines. What's the point of putting them away? We'll just get them out again tomorrow.

We are decorated for Christmas. Notice the crooked star. I find it amusing. And another thing I find amusing is what is hard to tell in this picture is the lack of ornaments on the tree the bottom 1/4. We have an Afton in the house, need I say more?

Music, music and music. I haven't lacked for entertainment. I joined up with the MN Mormon Chorale (a semi-professional) choir. Actually, what I should say is that I auditioned and was accepted into the choir 5 minutes before a very intense 2 1/2 hour rehearsal. I only had a whole concert full of music to learn and some memorized! One memorized song I sang for the first time the choir at a concert. Yeah, I'm a little proud of myself for that one. Oh, and this song I sang from memory too. Russell loves this song.

And I couldn't resist capturing a picture of Russell. My sweet little social four-year-old is struggling with this move a little bit. He misses his friends. He misses Jaron. But he doesn't lack for teasing his sisters; good thing that's still intact.

So there you have it. I've written. Maybe I'm over the writer's block. We'll see!

A Certain Kind of Person

There are a certain kind of people who relish cold weather. Spending a majority of my life in cold-weather states, I've started to recognize them. They are the women, who I've seen on my daily errands, that are decked out in flip flops, capris and a light jacket. It's only 30 degrees outside; it's not that cold yet.

Or the fact that Jaron's new elementary school wanted to emphasis their recess weather policy. Kids will go outside to play for 20 minutes at recess as long as the temperature is above minus 15 degrees F (yes, minus) as long as there is no ice, or if the wind-chill is above -15 degrees F. That was a negative sign before that number. Negative.

I realized the other day that I fall into this category; you know, of the seriously cold-weather-insane. It was a balmy 20 degrees out. Maybe a tad bit higher; the sun was shinning so that should count for something. I had exhausted get-out-of-the-house entertainment options: shopping, library story time, shopping, running errands, shopping. Can you believe I'm a little sick of shopping? Anyway, I decided I would take the kids for a walk. That walk lead to a 1/2 mile trek to the closest playground where Eliza and Russell ran around and played for 15 minutes while Afton shivered. I thought it was a tiring though enjoyable hour or so. We returned home with rosy cheeks, cold fingers, and a craving for soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

When I asked Russell if he wanted to go play at the park today and he said, "Let's wait until it's hot!" Russell must be an Oklahoma boy.

Pictures

It’s the chore I’ve been dreading. Really, it shouldn’t be a chore but downloading and sifting through all pictures we took before we moved, it was something I wanted to avoid. But here am doing it. I’m not dry-eyed either.

All these darling kids joined us for a "goodbye" party for our kids.

Russell and his friend, Austin

Jaron with friends Connor and Marion

Our wonderful, incredible neighbor/adopted member of our family, Kathy. Oh how we love her and miss seeing her. Poor Kathy, she was heading out that morning to drive to Oklahoma City and we grabbed her for a quick picture in our master bedroom of all places. One of the only places we could find a box-less spot.

Jaron's 1st grade teacher, Mrs. Wailes. I was embarrassed that in his good-bye card to her he wrote, "I hope my next class isn't as noisy as your class is." She loved it! And laughed and agreed with him. He apparently was one of her quiet ones. I'm sure he rarely made a peep in class but that's the opposite at home.

We appreciate Marion teaching Jaron how to climb trees. He'll have many opportunities in MN.

And these two . . . I just love these two. Russell and Audra. I never realized how close an attachment a 4 year old could have on a friend but these two were so attached to each other. It broke my heart the other day to hear Russell ask, "Is Audra still my friend?" Followed by, "Is Austin still my friend too Mommy?"

Equally just as difficult to hear was Audra telling Russell on the phone how much she missed him.

What wonderful points of light these people are in our lives. We love them!

Change

I really dislike change. Probably so much I would be tempted to say that I hate change. I'm the non-adventurous type. If you can describe me as that, since I do have 4 kids under the age of six. Anyway, it should be no surprise that I'm not liking this whole moving thing.

I'm typing this sitting in a room surrounded by boxes. Jaron came home from school recently and declared as he went through every room "Boxes!" "BOXES!" "Whoa, BOXES!!" And then he promptly went upstairs to play with our Flintstones car (or as I affectionately call it: the toy that will start WWIII) that was retrieved from the depths of the attic. Great entertainment and they probably haven't seen it in a year.

My life is out of whack and I just don't know what to do with myself. In high school, for entertainment my best friend and next door neighbor, Rob, would sneak into my room and rearrange my stuff. He did this for the sheer entertainment of annoying and irritating me. I could spot every change; even if it was a small quarter turn of a figurine on my book shelf. Of course, children have somewhat cured me of this obsessiveness of everything being in a particular place. Not only am I rearranging stuff, I'm rearranging my whole life. It feels so completely strange. I wish I could just go put it back into place like I could in high school.

I spent the majority of the last weekend in a strange sort of daze. I found myself frequently close to tears. Or more often than that, in tears. Why does moving have to be so hard?

This place has been good to us. Mostly and truly for the exceptional people I have associated with. Wonderful, wonderful people. My children's teachers. The youth I serve with. My awesome visiting teachers. Kind ward members. A librarian who knows my kids' names. An always cheery aquatics director. A dairy man and grocery checker who recognize me. Outstanding doctors. Irreplaceable neighbors, one of whom is like a treasured member of the family. How we love her! And friends I wish I could convince to come with me.

I don't know where to end this. In some ways, I wish this wasn't ending. {Insert blinking cursor here.}

Ice Cream

In addition to his love of chocolate chip cookies, Clark really loves ice cream. He was concerned when we first moved out of America's Dairyland (aka Wisconsin) that he would have to endure life without great ice cream. But then we discovered Blue Bell. I doubt our life will ever be the same again.

We indulge ourselves in Blue Bell ice cream regularly around here. It helps that when it goes on sale and I find a coupon for it we can get premium ice cream which sells for around $7 for about $2. I'm not sure what recently led Clark to check out their website, maybe to see if they were selling his favorite flavor this month, but he discovered that there was a factory about an hour away from us. And they did tours. Of course we had to go.

As Clark said, as far as tours go it wasn't that informative but enough for our kids to handle. It probably helped they gave us a nice sized bowl of ice cream afterward. Nothing like having ice cream at 10 AM. We should have skipped breakfast.

This little lady loves ice cream. She even got her own bowl!

Friendship in a Jar

As I lay wide awake at 5:00 am this morning, running through my mind were all the things I needed to get done before we move. It's happening in only a matter of weeks but strangely enough I strayed to contemplating taking my kids to the zoo today or even driving 45 minutes to go to Target. I'm in avoidance and denial mode big time. Hours later, I settled on calling a dear friend of mine and inviting her and her kids over to play for the day. It's a great combo because I love talking to her and our kids adore each other. Do we have a future "in-law" relationship? I'm just kidding!!

So my sweet friend, who quickly agreed to coming over, suggests she would be happy to help me with anything I needed to get done. I laughed at the idea and joked there was a 14 lb box of raspberries in my freezer torturing me. It was suppose to be made into jam but that was before I knew we were moving. Before either of us knew what we were doing, we were up to our arms in raspberries. Neither of us had made raspberry jam. What better time to learn on a lazy, fall Tuesday morning with 5 kids to entertain. Thankfully they do a good job of that themselves.

What struck me about today was the wonderful gift of friendship. Sadly, it isn't something that can put in jar and preserve it there. If it was, I would be bottling up all my friends so I can take them with me. I've always been blessed with good, wonderful friends in my life. They have inspired me, taught me, helped me, laughed with me, cried with me, prayed for me and even, at times, put up with me. In a nutshell: there for me.

Today my darling friend was helping me clean out my freezer. A year ago, as I prepared to add another child to my family, she and other friends were helping me to fill up my freezer!

I love my friends. I am so, so, so grateful to them and for them. They add such wonderful dimension to my life. I treasure them far more than maybe I have ever adequately expressed to any of them. It makes leaving all the more difficult.

Better Late . . .

Yes, we did have a 1st birthday here last month. Yes, we did celebrate it. And yes, I've been a bit, um, distracted. Then I discovered all these darling pictures and I couldn't resist.

So here goes:
What a lucky little lady Afton was. Her birthday was on a Saturday so we had the whole day to do whatever her heart desires. What am I saying, she is just 1-year-old! We did the planning. After a stop at the photo studio we headed over to the zoo. I think she enjoyed the people more than the animals.

Sadly, we lost her really cute hat at the zoo.

Afton loves her bling. She loves, loves necklaces. Her siblings promptly broke about 3 of them. As well as one of her other birthday presents. Good thing she doesn't complain.

A cake fit to be destroyed!

Finally a 1-year-old who does more than daintily pick at her cake. It probably helped that we served it about 4 in the afternoon. She loved the frosting. And she loved showing me how much she loved the frosting with a big pat on my face. Thanks Afton.

I just love 1-year-olds. Their curiosity, sense of adventure, their mess making, and their abilities to get into amusing positions.

Mmmm, we get to eat Afton for dinner.

A rare Afton moment . . . angry. I was trying to get a picture of her monster feet to show Grandma. Cute huh? We love this little girl!!!

For Someone Else

I was mopping my bathroom floor tonight. I wasn't doing it for myself. We have a showing for our home that I'm getting ready for. Heaven only knows I'm far too busy to actually mop my own floor for my enjoyment.

As I was mopping I caught a glint of glitter stuck in the grout of the tile floor. I remember where that glitter came from. Eliza, as an exploring 1-year old, came to show me a small snow globe she had discovered. Unfortunately, it slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor breaking and leaving water and glitter everywhere. I never managed to get all that glitter out. And there it was tonight, reminding me, of all those little moments I've had in this home the past several years.

Some things are so easy to document and remember. The first time we brought the boys to the house. The first time we brought brand new baby Eliza home. Then brand new baby Afton. I could go on but I won't. Tucked into the recesses and corners of my memory are the thousands and thousands of moments I can't place just by seeing glitter on the floor but they are there just the same.

Albeit those moments are so stereo-typical they are beautiful in their fleetingness. Giggles and laughing, faces and hands happily covered in a treat, successes and sorrows, slamming doors (good and bad), the quiet of moments spent devouring books, the content sounds of playing sometimes followed by the sounds of contention, the busy-ness and hum of this home. I saw it all in Afton's happy smile just this morning. Peace . . . familiarity . . . contentment.

However this will all change. I'm living in my house now for someone else. People I don't know who will have all their own experiences and memories here. People who will poke through my closets and cabinets. Wander my house. Inspect my walls and doors. I desire to detest these people. I'm not sure why. They won't take my life from me when they buy my home. Because in reality, it is just a house. Brick, mortar, wood, drywall, paint.

The funny thing is that's happening somewhere else right now in Minnesota. People living in a house now intended for me. Hard as it seems to me as I contemplate it, we will start over again, and make memories and it will once again feel like a home.

The Quest

Some things are hard to pinpoint when it all started; an inside joke or liking broccoli. It just happens and gradually it becomes an accepted part of life. That's how it is with Clark and his pursuit of making the perfect chocolate chip cookie. I can't recall at what point in our over 10 years of marriage this all began. When exactly did he even start making cookies? Or have the desire to perfect the cookie? Was it when they had cookie competitions for his chemical engineering socials (I know an oxymoron) in grad school? Was it before that? All I know, this may be widely known or hardly known at all but Clark has a quest to make the perfect chocolate chip cookie.

I can however recall when the quest become borderline obsessive. It was the summer after Eliza was born and we were visiting my parents in Minnesota. Clark, to pass the afternoon while I was probably out shopping, opted to make cookies with the kids. Good idea or bad idea, it's hard to say. I can say this though: those were the perfect chocolate chip cookies he has ever made. Seriously! And that my friends is when things went a little crazy.

We ate these cookies our whole 12 hour drive home . . . ok, maybe they didn't last that long. They were soft, but chewy and thick and just so good. We quickly downed the remaining batch and contemplated their delicious perfection for days after. Clark came home full of excitement to reproduce his creation. It didn't happen though. They failed - in his eyes.

He tried it all. Maybe he needed fresh baking powder. Name brand shortening. Shortening in sticks instead of the can. More flour. Less flour. Refrigerated. Not refrigerated. Special cookie sheets. With the kids' help. Without the kids' help. He turned out pan after pan of awesome cookies. However . . . it wasn't the perfect chocolate chip cookie.

Finally Clark came to me one evening with an excited gleam in his eye. "I've just discovered the secret to making the perfect chocolate chip cookie."

"What?" I queried.

"They need to be prepared and cooked in Minnesota," he causally informed me. "I think we need to move there."

As a dutiful spouse I took a breath trying to carefully consider this casually dropped bombshell and responded: "I want to support you in all your dreams and aspirations but isn't this a little crazy? Are you seriously telling me that you are considering uprooting our family to move across the country so you can make the perfect chocolate chip cookie?"

At this point, I must tell you, Clark is the silent type. Part of the reason I fell in love with him was his ability to communicate so much without saying anything. Quite possibly it could be that I talk too much he doesn't need to. After a moment of silence and Clark essentially saying nothing I said "Fine. Good luck getting a job."

"Well, I'm sure MickeyD's is hiring somewhere in the Twin Cities."

"Yeah, I don't think that will fly," I quipped.

Well, he did it. He found a job there. No, it isn't with a fast food joint but quite perfectly ironic it is with a food company. No, his employment will not be to make the perfect chocolate chip cookie. As Clark likes to jokingly say, he'll be "working with computers".

I for one, am slightly concerned that Clark may say to me in the near future: "You know Kim, the oven at your parent's house is probably a part of the equation for the perfect chocolate chip cookie. Why not save money and live with them?"

I probably would respond that he is welcome to visit them as much as possible they will only be about 45 minutes away. And their oven.

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This above post in part or whole may or may not be a work of factual embellishment. I guess I'm trying to defend myself here; that I didn't threaten to rust his cookies sheets unless he moved me to Minnesota. This was all his doing, though I was supportive. I love Minnesota and I'm excited to head back to freeze-your-nose-hairs winters and beautiful falls and springs and awesomely not-hot summers. It also doesn't hurt that it is also the land of Target headquarters.

Baby Fetish

I really don't know what it is about my second daughter and my second son but as babies they have (or had) a fetish with underwear. Maybe it has to do with their next oldest sibling potty training. But boy, does she love underwear.

Here's Afton digging through a laundry basket of clean clothes to find underwear. If she is lucky and her older sister is in the midst of taking care of her "business" she'll toddle on into the bathroom and swipe the underwear from the floor and take off. Which, by the way, Russell would do almost the exact same thing to Jaron but he was crawling not walking at the time.

A serious contemplation of her horde.

And yes, I do indulge her on her desire to wear it on her head. Like brother, like sister. Seriously look here (near the end).

Missing Appendages

I've been unable to get myself to blog of late. Some of it had to do with the heat. It just made me lazy and unmotivated. And then, this really sad, hard thing happened. School started! Yes, I'm one of those crazy mothers who loath the beginning of school. I count down the days until I can have them back . . . not the days until I send them back.

The best way I can describe how I feel about two of my children being gone for a portion of the day is this way: I feel like I'm missing appendages. On Jaron's first day of 1st grade last week I felt like I tearily moped around the house all day. The hours stretched out. And that nearly 60 minutes from when school ended until the bus (which was very, very late) dropped him of was forever.

Jaron finds taking pictures in the sun hard. So he squints. I even put his back to the sun but still he struggles. Oh well.

Here's Russell trying to contain his excitment for preschool. He wanted to stay the whole day to have lunch with the other kids. No way buddy. I have a hard enough time leaving him for just 2 1/2 hours three days a week.

They grow up too darn fast.

Accessories

It's a part of childhood; to adore things. Eliza adores band-aids. All my kids really like band-aids but she takes it to the extreme. She wants to wear them constantly. So much so they have become accessories. Her grandmother even indulged her in her fetish by letting her choose her own box. (Ones with trucks and robots on them) Me? I'm a cheap mom. I don't want my kids wearing band aids unless there is really blood.

Here's a few recent shots of her showing off her awesome band-aids:

(Yes - inquiring minds who want to know - those are car sheets on my daughter's bed. She uses them and Jaron uses the pink polka dot ones. Go figure.)

Ok, this is really Clark's sandals but she was so excited she shared with Daddy. I've also found them decorating walls and light switches though I can't conclusively name her as the culprit.

And these two beauties on her arms? She has been sporting them for days. Maybe 5? They even stay on in the bathtub. They looked just awesome with her Sunday church attire.

Oh, and these are all self-applied. She keeps a stash of them hidden in a drawer and just applies at leisure and at random when the fancy strikes her.

Hammer Time

I got you didn't I? Sorry, this post isn't about an old pop song. But I must confess, it's been going through my head for a few minutes. It's hot around here. Not to complain or anything. Just stating the facts. I think it's hot around most places. I grew up in frigid Minnesota where we had to be creative about breaking the dull drums of cabin fever as we dreamed of escaping the cold with a beautiful, hot July day. Never did I dream that I would have to figure out ways to overcome cabin fever in July!!

So . . . out comes some boards, nails and hammers. The kids can crazily entertain themselves on a 103 degree day for only about $3 and I can bask in wonderful air conditioning. Hours of entertainment. You know the best thing about all this? Well, despite the air conditioning? No fighting! No mind numbing TV! And they are working on some hand/eye coordination. I think by the end of the week they'll be ready to help build the home at the end of the street.

Great fun!

Did you spot those band-aids?

Even Afton is entertained. She loves the show they are putting on for her. So is there going to be a run of moms heading to the local hardware store? One small recommendation: find the nails with the widest head you can. Makes it easiest for hitting.