Empty pink bins...

They say you never know for sure that you're done having kids, but chances are you know in your heart when you're done and both Steve and I felt that with Briggs.

We also let the kids know that this baby with be the caboose to our family. Which is why Hallie more than anything was hoping for a sister, she knew it was her last chance. Her disappointment was visible and it was heartbreaking to see her having a hard time. Shortly after we found out another boy would be joining the family, I made it a goal to go through the bins of girls clothes we had stored in the attic. I had been hanging on to this clothing since Hallie was a baby. Never did it cross my mind, in my young and naive state, that Hallie would be my only daughter. Obviously, I wouldn't have held on to that clothing for that long had I known otherwise.

I went through bin after bin of clothing and aside from a few special pieces, I donated the contents.

One afternoon, Hallie came into the laundry room and saw me drowning in pink clothing. She recognized some of it from pictures we have of her wearing the clothing. This is how our conversation went down:

Hallie: What are you doing?
Kara: Just going through this clothing so we can give it to someone who needs it.
Hallie: But what if we need it?
Kara: Oh honey, we're not going to need any of this for a boy.
Hallie: But what if we have another baby?
Kara: I don't think that's going to happen, and even if we did - chances are it would be a boy too!

She looked around the room and left. I started talking to her as she walked away and I could tell she didn't hear me. I went to find her and found the bathroom door shut. When she walked out a minute later, her eyes were red and swollen.

We talked. The fact that this baby was a boy cut her deep and she was having a hard time accepting the fact that she would never have a sister. I asked what would make her feel better. She asked if she could go through the clothing with me and keep some of the clothing to give to her daughter someday. It was a great idea.



I probably went through 7 or 8 bins of clothing before Briggs was born, knowing very well there was more in the attic I hadn't touched.

This week, I completed the task. I went through the last 5 bins of girls clothing. And out of 5 bins - this is what I kept:

A couple dresses I made and a few other pieces that Hallie can remember wearing. There were moments of nostalgia as I touched each piece checking for stains before being donated. I could picture Hallie in almost every single item of clothing and we've got more than enough pictures as evidence. It was quite therapeutic for both of us to sift and sort and talk. And now we're done.

We kept a little, we donated a lot. I now have stacks of empty pink bins and a lot more attic space that needs to be used!

Piano Woes...

I love seeing her at the piano. However, she doesn't love being at the piano. She started lessons a few years back and loved them for the first year. As the songs grew harder, she didn't like it nearly as much. I saw myself in her. I played piano as a kid and the older I got, the more I fought my time at the piano. Yet, as an adult I wish I was much better. I wish I had stuck with it. Isn't that always the case?

Hallie stopped taking formal lessons (it's hard to keep paying for something when you know your kid isn't loving it) and I started going through the songs with her on my own. We're moving at a much slower pace but we're making progress. The hard part is she's good. She's got the rhythm and she picks up the songs quickly. I think that's why it's so hard to see her not love it. And she does enjoy it - once she has the song down. It's the process of learning the song (which is a day or two!) that she doesn't enjoy. But she's being a good sport and still going through the books. I keep telling her years from now she'll be sitting at the piano with her daughter who wants to quit and she'll encourage her to keep going. With a smile on her face she replied, "I sure hope I don't do this to my daughter!"

The world...

We went on a family walk to an area that overlooked the city. It was dark and all the kids could see was the city lights in the far distance. They couldn't see the canal several feet away. They couldn't see the brush directly in front of them. Bennett was in awe of the view and innocently said, "You can see the whole world from here."

After that night each time we went on a family walk, Bennett asked if we could go to the place to see the world. We've seen the "world" several times since then and each time Bennett is just as impressed as the first time. As far as he's concerned, the view in front of him is the world. It's Arizona and Idaho and China all together, and he can see it all.

I didn't burst his bubble. And you know what - one day he'll look over that same ridge and he'll no longer think its the world. Not that anyone has to tell him, he'll just know. In fact, he'll probably forget that he ever thought it was the world. But I'll remember. I want to remember. I want to remember his perspective at this age.

Bottle a feeling...

Sometimes I want to bottle a feeling. A smell. A smile.

I've had many people tell me with this baby - enjoy it, it goes by too quickly. I know they're right. I know one day I'll look back with fondness. Which is why I want to bottle some of those senses. Senses I'm too overwhelmed and tired to enjoy right now.

Because the days are long and tiring and at times I find myself wishing the hours away. It will be better when Steve gets home from work. It will be better when the baby sleeps through the night. It will be better when he can dress himself. It will be better when he goes to school.

And yet I see the mothers with all their kids in school and they look at my sweet boy and ask to hold him so they can remember what it feels like to hold a baby. I'm sure holding him takes them back to their young mothering days. And at that point its easier to remember all the sweet and tender moments instead of all the craziness and tiring days.

Why is it so hard to enjoy where we're at? Why must I sufficiently pass a stage before looking back at it with appreciation?

Look at this guy - he's so little and perfect and so dang cute. His smile melts me.

Give me a bottle. I'm going to want to remember him just like this. Minus the throwing up. That's a smell I have no interest in preserving.

Mother's day...

It's been a good day. I know all Mother's days are supposed to be wonderful, but some are just better than others and this year was great.

Steve made sure I was taken care of all day, whether it was him making breakfast and dinner or the kids rubbing my feet with lotion. They were all there to make my day easier and more enjoyable. It worked.

During our crepe breakfast, I was showered with gifts from the kids. Between their teachers in school and church I had quite the loot. My favorites each year are the fill in the blank questions the kids answer (when you find out how they really feel about you!) Evidently the thing I say most to Bennett is "Clean your room". There might be some truth to that.

Hunter's poem from his placemat put a smile on my face.
"Kara
Good builder, talented, kind
Mother of 5, Hallie, Hunter, Bennett, Cannon and Briggs
Who is happy when Cannon is not crying
Who is sad when Cannon and Briggs are crying
Who would like to see the Bronco's win a game
Loved dearly by Hunter"

Hunter and I share a love for Bronco (Boise State, not Colorado) football!

Hallie decorated our kitchen chalkboard for me - she's got a future in chalk art.


Steve took on the task of making dinner and he told me he has a new appreciation for making dinner. It's hard work to make sure the chicken and corn come off the grill about the same time the rolls come out of the oven, all the while making mashed potatoes to perfection. He did it with flying colors.



Friday, I attended a mother's day lunch in Hunter's classroom. His teacher was phenomenal in all she did to make a special afternoon. I loved all of it. The homemade tissue paper flowers, the hand colored plate, the poems and video messages. It was fun to watch Hunter so proud of his work and interacting with his friends.


The day before that, Bennett had his Mother's day program (seriously have I mentioned how awesome these teachers are for all their efforts?!) and he sang and danced with the best of them. It was no surprise to see him on stage silly and playful - wouldn't know him any other way.



Steve has a history of giving me some type of power tool to celebrate motherhood. Steve told me earlier in the week of his intentions to buy me a table saw for mother's day. I was more than excited. We even went out last week and looked at a few before deciding we would need to order one online.

Saturday afternoon we noticed a firetruck and ambulance across the street at a neighbors house. Our neighbor had been working on his roof and we feared he had fallen off and seriously hurt himself. Steve went over to see if everyone was okay. Shortly after, we saw our neighbor wheeled out on a stretcher with his hand bandaged, he waved at us across the street. Steve came back home shaking his head, "We're not getting a table saw." I knew in my gut what he was saying - he had severed a finger. The rest of the evening we were sick for him. Steve was completely rattled and was convinced it was a sign that I shouldn't get a saw. I'll admit it made me a little nervous as well - but not enough to ban all my woodworking projects. More than anything it reminded me just how powerful all of my tools are and my need to be cautious and careful every single time I turn one on.

I still want the saw. Steve is reluctantly willing to give me the saw with the promise that I follow all safety guidelines and never remove the guard. Demands I can live with.

Love that man for his wonderful service today and every day. And love these littles who made me a mom 5 times over.

Playroom toys update...

I had many people ask about the playroom toys since their swift removal late one night.

As an update - it took a while for the kids to even notice that the toys were gone - they were watching TV in the room oblivious to the fact that it was fairly empty. That told us a lot. It wasn't until they saw the boxes in our room that the tears and yelling started to play out. One child in particular was furious and made it known just how angry they were. The two younger kids kept trying to pull toys out of the boxes when I wasn't in the room - as if I wouldn't notice the lightsaber that miraculously materialized in their hands. Silly kids - have they not figured out parents know everything?

I'll admit, I removed the toys without a concrete plan in place. I just needed to make a point and that's the best I could come up with at the time. And two weeks later, the toys are still boxed away in our room. I've quite enjoyed not having those extra toys thrown throughout the house. But am I really ready to get rid of them all together? Not yet. But they could use a good purging. (Which I do regularly, but clearly I need to be more liberal.)

After purging, I think I'll box up the remaining and take them out to the garage. We'll rotate through them by bringing one box in for a bit and then taking it back to the garage. I used to rotate more consistently a few years ago and then our kids were such different ages with different interests that more toys ended up in the house than in the garage.

But I'm recommitted.

I need less clutter, less to pick up and less fighting over toys.

On an unrelated and happier note - we have a weekend just around the corner and oddly enough it doesn't include hours and hours of yard work, a nice change in pace from the last 6 months.

This is how we all feel about that! Happy weekend.

Weekend grind...and farewell toys...

There is a light at the end of this rather long and very dark tunnel we call the front yard project. This morning we had 13 tons of rock delivered for the planting beds. Three large piles that my kids are dying to play in.

The only problem with having 13 tons delivered is we have to shovel and relocate 13 tons or rock. My shoulders are sore just thinking of what lies ahead of us on Saturday. We do have some neighbors who are just as antsy to get this project done and they've volunteered to come help us. Evidently the neighborhood is tired of seeing us every Saturday out in our dirt patch!

Hallie came home from school and saw the piles of rock - she came to me confused.
H: What are those piles for?
Me: They're to put in flower beds around all the plants.
H: The same flower beds we've been pulling rocks from every weekend.
Me: Yes
H: Then why did you make us pull them all out.
Me: Because I like to watch you work.
H: Sooo not cool!

She's going to kill me when I ask her to pull more river rock out of the grass area!!

Speaking of killing me - I'm prepping myself for a colossal meltdown tomorrow morning when the kids go into the playroom and they realize all of their toys are gone. All of them, except the books. The room was a disaster. Every couple days, I'd make them clean it up and organize the toys and all I heard was whining and complaining. "But I didn't get those toys out. This is going to take forever."

Yesterday I asked an unnamed child to clean up the mess. As defiant as could be, their reply, "No". That is definitely not a word I want to hear come out of any mouth when I ask them to do something. I'm pretty sure steam was coming out of my head. Instead of lashing out, I quietly left the room to regroup and control my anger. I wanted to march right back in there and rip out every toy in front of them. But I didn't.

After a long and rational cooling period, I decided removing the toys for a while would be a good lesson. This evening I told Steve of my plan. He gave the child one more chance and asked them to clean the room and he got the response, "Ninjas don't clean."

Well child of mine - little ninjas may not clean and now little ninjas don't have toys.

The kids went to bed and I went in with large totes and filled them up and removed them. It wasn't a sophisticated process - there was definitely no organizing going on. Just removing.

Still not sure if or when they'll get them back. And lets be real, it's not as if every toy in the house has been removed - just the ones in the playroom. My kids are going to love me - removing all their toys and making them pick up rocks!

I'll think about it...

I saw this quote online and I couldn't help but chuckle:

Admittedly, this is me. I rarely say "I'll think about it", instead I say, "We'll see". But it means the same thing. I never thought I'd be that mom. The one that keeps kicking the can down the street, but that's what I'm doing every time I say, "We'll see". Part of me doesn't want the fight; hoping that they lose interest in it whatever it is. Sometimes I say it so I can buy enough time to come up with a good excuse. Other times I say it so I can come up with a better consolation prize.

For example: Bennett is known for asking to watch a movie. I will be cleaning up breakfast and he'll ask if he can watch a movie after dinner. I can never commit to saying yes because a yes to him is a blood oath, regardless of any reasonable reason why plans change. A "no" makes him frustrated and angry and I don't want him asking why he can't watch a movie 8 hours from now, 6 hours from now, 3 hours from now...you get the picture.

So I say, "I don't know, we'll see." Some nights it works out and he's in heaven. Other times he gets a consolation prize of going for a walk as a family and he can ride his "super fast bike" which in his mind is equally as great as a movie - and he didn't have to hear the word "no". So my "we'll see" isn't always bad!

I tell you, parenting is one part love, one part patience and one part creativity. (Coming up with a solution that dodges a meltdown takes some serious creativity!)

Drop-off day is the hardest...

I'm convinced that I will probably never reach an age that I don't need my mom. I've always had a great respect for and relationship with my mom but the older I get, the more valuable it is. I'm in my thirties and a mother myself, which makes me appreciate her even more.

She came to visit just after Briggs was born to help us out and today we said goodbye and sent her back up to Idaho. Both of us were in tears as we embraced one last time at the airport. She said to me, "Don't worry, you've got this." And the rational side of me knew she was telling me the truth. But the emotional side of me replied back, "Yes, but I would much rather have you here helping me."

And it's the truth. I enjoy having her in my house. I like the company when I'm holding a baby at 11 o'clock at night and Steve has already gone to bed. I like having someone to help Cannon grab a drink when I'm nursing on the couch. I like that someone is awake and functioning when my kids get out of bed after I was up much of the night. I like having an adult conversation over lunch. I like having someone else around to hear Bennett's funny comments.

I love having her here - baby or no baby! I'm grateful she's able and willing to be a part of our life here; playing piano with Hallie, games with Hunter, puzzles with Bennett, reading to Cannon or holding Briggs. Not to mention the playful manner in which she pokes and jabs at Steve and he pokes and jabs right back. She's awesome. Which makes days like today especially hard.

Drop-off day is always the hardest. That was a long ride home from the airport!










Has it really been 2 1/2 years since Cannon was born and I had an equally hard time dropping her off at the airport? Where does time go?

Hard Conversations...

Hallie's class has to do a current event presentation every week. It's the teacher's way of getting the kids familiar with the world around them. I typically help her find the event each week and I quickly censor topics as we're searching news sites. But then I come across a particularly hard news week where I'm searching to find something more light than recent bombings and attacks.

She's old enough - she knows these events are taking place - we have the news on often enough that its unavoidable. But it's the questions you can't answer as a parent that make it hard. Buy why that place? But why those people? Who would ever do something so mean? Will they catch them? Questions I, myself, am searching for answers to. It's heartbreaking, really.

I remember trying to explain to both Hallie and Hunter the reason why September 11 is such a special day. How did they get on the plane? They actually hit the building, but they would die too? Why that building? That just doesn't make sense.

It doesn't make sense, that's why it's so hard to understand for me as an adult - not to mention my young innocent children. To put it simply for them I explain, sometimes bad things happen to good people because bad people make poor decisions. Fortunately for us - there's more good people than bad.

I love the Fred Rogers quote: When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping."

I've decided to make it a point to help my kids recognize helpers in all situations - we won't always understand why things happen the way they do but we can always keep an eye out for those making a positive impact. Look for the helpers.

Proud mom moment...

You know the saying, "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree"?

It was a proud moment when I walked outside this weekend and Hallie and Hunter were geared up in their Home Depot aprons, pulling together scraps of wood for their own little projects. Makes my little mom heart happy!

Teach them young!

To all mothers...

What mother couldn't use this kind of encouragement?

Elder Holland's General Conference talk this weekend (Saturday afternoon) was a wonderful tribute to mothers everywhere. Yes, at times, it can be a thankless work, but it's an important work. And we're all doing better than we think we are.

Soggy bottoms...

Tonight Hallie and I went to my niece's volleyball game at the high school. We had to be home in time for Steve to leave for a meeting so we left the game a little early. We walked outside only to find a large monsoon storm had rolled in and it was dumping buckets of rain.

We stood under the covered area for almost 15 minutes in hopes that the rain would let up, but the storm was bad. It was getting late and we finally had to make a run for our car.

Hallie removed her flip flops so she could run faster, I had tennis shoes on so I was okay. I grabbed her hand and we made a run for it.

I have no pictures to document this seemingly small event, but more than anything I wish I had a voice recording of us. We ran hand-in-hand. We were screaming and laughing while we splashed along. The further into the parking lot we ran the deeper the water became. Before long the water was up to my shins and my shoes were submersed. The rain was loud so we were yelling back and forth how crazy the storm was and just how wet we were getting.

We reached the car (the water was almost halfway up the tire) and scrambled in as fast as we could. I turned to see her in the back seat, her hair and clothes were sopping wet and she was gigging, grinning ear to ear. I too was dripping wet and my shoes were spongy and full of water.

We laughed the whole way home about that 20 second run. We may not have danced in the run but we sure splashed in it. I want to remember that.

Daily life...

We've been in school a month and this is what after school looks like:


Straight off the bus the kids are ready for a snack - which this day happened to be Fruit Loops and Hunter meticulously arranged his stack by color.

We talk about the day - who they sat by at lunch, who got hurt at recess, funny things their friends said.

We do the teacher recommended homework; spelling words, flash cards, reading and vocab.

Then it's practicing piano, cleaning rooms (that didn't get done before school) and doing chores.

Somedays everything gets done quickly and it's friend time - other days it drags and drags and even after dinner they're trying to finish things up.

By the end of the night, we gather everything and make sure their backpacks are complete, homework is signed and they have everything they need for the next day.

The next morning wake up, go to school and repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Motherhood is often like Groundhog's day!

Let them be little...

Let me paint you a picture. It was a toasty afternoon - 114 degrees. The kids were swimming their little hearts out. They got out of the pool and I started getting the BBQ ready for dinner. I was rushing around prepping food and cleaning up before Steve walked in the door and I noticed I had a little shadow. He followed me outside to the BBQ, back inside to the sink to wash my hands, to my bedroom to put some things away, back outside to check on the BBQ. I didn't say a word to him but I watched his moves behind me. Finally, he said with a giggle and Hunter's hat on backwards, "I'm following you mommy, that's silly, huh?!"

I looked into his big dark eyes and got lost for just a second. Immediately the country song by Billy Dean started flowing through my head:
So let them be little 'cause they're only that way for a while
Give them hope, give them praise, give them love every day
Let them cry, let them giggle, let them sleep in the middle
Oh just let them be little

As soon as the words flowed through my head, my next thought was - he's not so little anymore.

Weekend warriors...

We've had several weekends of fun and playing which meant all the work around the house was catching up and we finally tackled some of it this weekend.

Steve took the boys outside and put them to work with the lawn and pool. Hunter mowed the back yard completely by himself - which includes dumping grass clippings - he's a hard worker and loves that he gets a gatorade when he's done.

I spent the morning in the attic. Fact: Hallie's room is 10 degrees warmer than the rest of the house. Oddly enough the energy audit we paid to have done right after we moved in didn't catch the fact that her bedroom wasn't insulated from the attic. We spent some time in the attic two years ago and found the problem. Saturday morning I finally worked to fix the problem. Insulation between the studs and covered the wall with a reflective insulation. It won't completely solve the problem but hoping it helps.

Our playroom isn't insulated from the garage, I thought I could get to both but with it being so hot outside, my attic time was limited. I'll get to that wall in a year or two!

After a thorough washing from my insulation bath, Hallie and I spent our time cleaning up the garage and organizing. Fact: I have had moulding sitting on the floor of my garage since we put wood floors in 2 1/2 years ago. I've told myself a hundred times to move it - I even bought the wall brackets to hang the wood over a year ago - it's no longer on my floor! We created 4 piles in the garage: Throw away, give away, return to Home Depot and return to Lowes. (It seems as though every project I ever tackle I overbuy on supplies by 25% and yet I still manage to hit up the depot at least three times during any given project!) By late afternoon, we only made it through a small portion of the garage but you would be amazed at how large some of those piles got, especially the throw away. You should've seen the kids excitement to go with Steve to empty the trailer at the dump - they had no idea what an experience that was. Hunter's only response about the whole trip, "It smells really bad there. Really bad".

While the kids and Steve cooled off in the pool I ran around making returns to clear two of the piles in the garage. After some grocery shopping and a run to target I curled up on the couch in exhaustion. It was a long (yet rewarding) day. I get why home ownership is not for everyone. I get why people get rid of all their stuff and live the minimalist life. I get why its easier to hire projects out rather than own every tool ever invented. And yet I'm happy owning this home that needs so much love from all my many tools. I just need to work better at managing it at least on a monthly basis and not annually! Get a tool out, put a tool away...repeat.

Thank heavens our day of rest followed our day of work. And even though it's the day of rest, everyone knows parents of young children never truly rest. Church, meetings, naps, fighting, BYUtv and games - still much more relaxing than our Saturday duties. I had to make rolls for a funeral tomorrow morning. My philosophy making rolls: always double the recipe and throw cinnamon and frosting on at least half of them. Done. We had some visitors stop by and enjoy them with us.

They were delicious. And as I'm typing this I just found a chunk of frosting in my hair - that's how good they were! The best part is waking up to them tomorrow morning and enjoying them all over again. The cinnamon rolls - not the kids. :)

New week. New fun. Bring on the second week of summer vacation.

Mother's Day 2015...

I know Mother's Day may not be everyone's favorite holiday - especially those that long for the opportunity to be a mother and haven't had the chance. But I actually quite enjoy the day. I get to celebrate my own mother, whom I adore greatly, and my mother-in-law who is equally amazing. Not to mention it's fun for me to be celebrated twice a year (birthday and Mother's Day). I spend most my days cleaning up messes I didn't make. I clean and cook for little people who don't appreciate the effort. And I swear my children have grown deaf to the sound of my voice. I echo the claim that motherhood is a thankless job.

But not on Mothers Day.

Steve does a great job of showing his appreciation every day, but he kicks it up a notch and makes sure the kids do as well on Mother's day.

I learned Bennett thinks I'm as pretty as a frog. Hunter thinks I make the best white sauce macaroni and Hallie thinks I'm the best at building things. I was impressed with how quickly kids listened and they mimicked the phrase, "Whatever mom wants today." Their dad planted that phrase. So we took pictures before church - because thats what I wanted to do (despite our early church time). And because we have four little kids this is what most of the shots look like.



And we got one with everyone looking at the camera.


We went to church and enjoyed a quiet afternoon with some gift giving. Steve is holding true to our tradition of Mother's Day power tools and I'm the proud owner of a new belt sander. Pretty stoked about this thing. I'm ready to sand wood down to nothing!


Dinner was provided by the family without any help from me; delicious crepes with fresh OJ. We walked the neighborhood before joining family to celebrate Steve's mom this evening. It was a great day - I was the queen and both Steve and the kids made sure of it.

Tomorrow I can go back to being low-man on the totem pole!

Not so glamorous motherhood...

*warning: bodily fluids involved and for your sake no pictures*

I am glad that last week is officially in the books and I hope to never repeat it. Not ever.

I write about the fun things we do. The silly things my kids say. The wood projects I find fun and entertaining. And everything I'm sure seems sweet and peaceful. But let me tell you about real life last week.

My husband was in China for work and my mom came down for a few days to help me out (and we were supposed to have a little fun!)

Kid 1 comes down with a fever and cold symptoms. Kid two throws up the same night and I'm up most the night with him. My mom takes the reigns the next morning and we canceled our plans for the day. Kid 1 is still grumpy and fevering eats nothing for days. Kid 2 stops throwing up. My mom returns home and I'm on my own. Kid 2 has bowel issues and an upset stomach for three days. Eats nothing.

Kid 3 starts to feel sick but nothing comes from it (queazy by association.) Kid 1 no longer has a fever. Kid two finally wakes up with out a bodily fluid on them and I am singing praises. We are on the mend.

Next morning Kid 4 throws up walking down the stairs. Spends the whole day, sun up to sun down with their head in a bowl. Steve gets home from China. And he give me some much needed relief. Within two hours of being home, he's emptied 3 bowls of Kid 4's. Just before bed Kid 1 is throwing up all over the carpet. I am spent and can't take any more and I go to bed at 8:30. That may be a normal bedtime for some, but that is so unlike me. Slept like a baby.

Next day, Kid 4 doesn't feel well the whole day, but keeps trace amounts of food down. Kid 1 is fevering again. I'm still exhausted and convinced I'm coming down with something.

Sunday morning rolls around and I honestly thought we would make it to church as a family, but I stayed home for the first hour with the sickies. Kid 4 comes downstairs and doesn't look great. Wants a bowl of cereal, but settles for a banana. Throws up within 10 minutes all over the bean bag chair and through the kitchen. Good thing we didn't take him to church. Kid 1 is no longer fevering but I'm seriously feeling ill and I had to teach. Steve swapped me and I went to church.

I teach and come home and go straight to bed. Meanwhile, Steve is still dealing with serious jet lag and isn't able to piece 4 hours of sleep together to save his life. He's a zombie and the kids, sick and healthy just want to be near him. I went to bed early again. So did Steve but he wakes up a short while later and can't go back to sleep, spends several hours awake in the middle of the night.

I woke up feeling much better. I thought for sure kid 4 would make it to school today, I was wrong; yet another movie day. Kid 3 came home after school with glassy eyes and complained the whole night of being hot. I sent a bucket to bed with them. I may or may not get sleep tonight.

I have seriously never experienced an illness to this extent - never has it passed through so many members of our family (all of who have received the flu-shot) and never have I had children hang on to it so long. This is the not so fun part of motherhood/fatherhood. The part I like to pretend doesn't exist.

I'm done with throw-up mode, I want to get back into project mode or play mode or really any mode that doesn't require me doing loads of laundry every day!

Teaching kids to do hard things...

I posted this story on HowDoesShe.com a couple weeks back and I wanted to share it here.

My kids love candy. And it seems as though every holiday, party and even minor event they are bombarded with even more candy. So it came as quite a surprise when our daughter approached us asking to make a candy deal. Her friend’s parents were offering a big prize if she could go without candy for several months, and our daughter wanted the same deal. I lacked faith in her ability to complete the deal, and we offered a generous prize of our daughters choosing (a motorized scooter) if she went without candy for 5 months.

No candy.

No eating the Easter candy she had just received. Nor the candy that came from classroom parties or anywhere else for that matter. She was cut off.

At first it was really hard for her. She complained when she saw her brothers eating candy and we constantly reminded her this deal was of her own choosing and she could back out at any time. But with each week that passed it became easier for her and by month three it was very apparent that she was going to earn her scooter. She had a strength and will power I had yet to see in her. She knew what she wanted and there wasn’t going to be anything standing in her way.

Just a few weeks before the deal was done, there was a knock at the door. There her friend stood holding a large lollipop with a birthday invitation attached. My sweet daughter read the invitation and looked me square in the eyes with complete disappointment. She had been invited to a Candyland party and she was not eating candy. I could see the immediate hurt and I watched her put the sucker in the cupboard. She didn’t say anything but her face said it all.

My immediate mom reaction was to shelter her from disappointment and do what it took to make it better. All sorts of things started running through my mind. Do we end the deal a couple weeks early and let her enjoy the party? Do we give her a free pass just for the afternoon?

She decided to attend the party with the understanding that she wouldn’t be partaking. We were driving to the party and just as I was about to give her a free pass for the afternoon, something in my gut said STOP. Let her do this. She is ready and willing to continue with the deal, why strip her of this tough decision she has chosen to make? She is proving not only to us, but also to herself that she can do hard things. She is learning that great reward often comes at a sacrifice. A sacrifice she was willing to make.


I walked into the Candyland party with her and there was candy everywhere. I mean everywhere; candy covered the tables and counters. They went to great lengths to recreate the game and left out no details. Her eyes were big as she looked at me. I whispered, “You can do this.” She looked back at the table and pointed to the cupcake on the counter and giggled. “At least I can eat that!” She had the best time, despite not eating any candy and she came home with a bag full that she promptly stashed away in the cupboard next to the large lollipop to be consumed at a later date.

Just a few weeks later, the day arrived when the deal was complete and she shouted from the rooftops that she was done! There was no doubt she had earned her scooter – without taking any shortcuts. The pride that beamed from her face was worth every piece of candy she had turned down. She knew she earned it.

As she zipped by me on her brand new scooter, she yelled, “This was totally worth it.”

My daughter earned a scooter and I learned a valuable lesson: Kids are capable of hard things if we allow them to and foster environments where they feel safe to try hard things. As parents we want to rescue them from hurt and disappointment, but as they work through hard things, they gain an inner strength that can only be learned through experience. I almost gave my daughter an “out” in her tough situation. Instead, she stood tall, stuck with her decision and didn’t turn back. She will be better off for doing so.

Like mother, like daughter...

Sometimes the things we pass down to our children makes me laugh - like dried bananas. I grew up with dried (dehydrated) bananas. My mom would spend an afternoon every once in a while slicing and arranging on drying trays. She would fill mason jars and put them in the storage room. I found myself visiting the storage room often to just sneak a couple. And before long a quarter of the jar was gone. My friends tried them a number of times and they didn't love them like I did.

Right after we were married I bought a dehydrator. We've dried plenty of fruits, but bananas are still my favorite. Not surprisingly they're my kids favorite as well. When I was cleaning out the pantry Hallie saw the dehydrator and in her most dramatic voice exclaimed..."You never make bananas anymore." I brought home 15 pounds of bananas two days later and made her work for them!

This is what Thursday afternoon looked like at our house:




We were depleting our supply so quickly I came home yesterday with another 15 pounds. Hopefully the newness of them will wear off and they'll stop chowing down on them!