just in time for school

Around here, it's pretty obvious that we are at the end of our rope where summer is concerned.  As if Derrick's incessant whining about being bored isn't proof enough, my stellar mothering skills will seal the deal.  Today I mopped my floor for the first time in weeks AND I fed my kids Toaster Strudels for breakfast and dinner.  Beat that.

poor thing

Today we went to the local county fair.  And I only managed to take one picture.  Not of my kids, either.  Jon pointed this poor thing out and all I could do was think back to when I stopped nursing Derrick.  I wanted to offer her an Aleve and a warm compress.  Perhaps this is on purpose, but I don't think so, as I'm guessing that part of her "purpose" is to give milk.  Obviously these animals are the responsibility of young ones who have no idea what that feels like.  I get that it is fair week, and it's exciting for all those presenting their "projects", and you can get distracted with everything going on, but good heavens, come and milk your goats!

excuses, excuses

I've had a dry spell, it's true.  But I finished up my last week of summer term AND I've been on vacation.  We journeyed to Utah to participate in the Pioneer Day celebrations.  And we had a great time.  But, unfortunately my blogging took a back seat.  I spent yesterday swimming in a sea of dirty laundry, and my house still looks a little pathetic, so serious posting will have to wait until later.  But for those who noticed, I'm not going anywhere!

kids say the darndest things

I love kids.  Today in Primary a 10 year old girl gave the opening prayer.  Most of it consisted of the common prayer phrases, until she got to the end and said the following.

"We thank you that we could go to Sacrament today and actually enjoy it."

It was all I could do not to laugh right then, especially since as the Primary Chorister I was seated right next to the podium.  Afterward, all the adults shared a quick smile before hurrying the children off to class.  But I have to say that comment made my day.

Now if only Grace and Reid would decide to let me enjoy Sacrament Meeting again...

green thumb

Over the last ten years, we've made a couple of attempts at gardening.  It has been either hit or miss.  Last year we learned about square foot gardening from my mother, who has a good friend with an amazing garden using this method.  We wanted to give it a try, but thought we were doomed to a gardenless existence because of Truman (who destroyed our grill and sprinkler box cord last summer).  After debating how to get around this problem, we decided to build a small fence in the middle of our yard, and put the boxes inside.  This method will definitely be how we garden from here on out!  Our tomatoes, zucchini and pumpkin plants are doing fabulously!  Yesterday Derrick picked our first zucchini and I made some zucchini bread today.  There is just something about watching the plants grow and change, and then using them for something delicious.  We also transplanted the plants that Derrick and Abbie brought home from school for me for Mother's Day.  I am simply amazed at what Abbie's plant has become.  It went from a small (I'm talking Jiffy pot here) thing to this big crazy plant that finally started blooming recently.  All in all, I'm feeling pretty good about our first real garden, except for the stupid birds that keep eating my strawberries!

jinx

So, the fact that I mentioned my record blogging streak the other day sealed my fate.  I should have known.  The same thing happened when Reid was about two months old and I bragged about him sleeping through the night for two weeks in a row.  He promptly put me in my place.  In any case, today my children are on my list and I'm thinking that summer cannot end fast enough.  Grace has adopted this scream that makes me want to stab my ear drums so as not to have to hear it anymore.  And Derrick and Abbie have been behaving like a bunch of animals.  Is it tomorrow yet?

residual effects

This is a contractor's idea of cleaning a mirror.  Unfortunately, I tried to fix this right after he left and there is apparently some sort of film on there now.  I'm still working on getting it off.  As a happy side note, I noticed on his business card that he lives on the same street as one of my friends.  I asked this friend if she knew anything about him, mostly to confirm my feeling that I should not allow him back in my house to repaint the ceiling.  As it turns out, they make their children steer clear of his house because her husband (who is a mental health professional with experience treating meth addictions) is fairly sure that they are cooking meth there.  FABULOUS!

on a roll

I'm fresh out of things to post.  OK, that's not true, I'm just fresh out of energy to make a worthwhile post tonight.  But as of yesterday I have posted for 15 days in a row, and I know if I let the streak die all hope will be lost!  So I'll waste this thought...why is it that The Home Depot requires 12 disabled parking spots, yet my Wal-Mart is apparently trying to skirt by with only 7?  I probably would have never noticed except these spots at The Home Depot are ALWAYS empty.  And before you go getting the wrong idea, I believe in disabled parking, and I believe that people caught abusing it should be ticketed.  I just also believe that they could probably spare a few of those spots for normal parking, as I walk past them carrying a 1 year old and a 3 year old into the store.  Or at least make a few pregnant parking spots.  I believe in those, too, even if I'll never get to use one!

marshmallows

Don't make a mess in my house, or I'll make you clean it up...the hard way.

dear contractor

Dear contractor,

It has only been two days since you were with us, but already my world is different without you here.

I so want my children to develop a strong vocabulary.  How will they manage that feat without you here to teach us all alternate words for "poop" or "a female dog"?  Or that cigarette boxes make great weights for holding down the plastic covering to protect my furniture (which doesn't actually protect my furniture at all)?  Who will I get to show them how to spill texturing mud on my carpet, attempt to clean it up, and then leave me with a chalky discoloration and pretend that you fixed the problem?  How else can I teach them about the difference between white and off-white when you only halfway painted the ceilings in my master bedroom, but not their bedrooms as well?  And I certainly have been going about it all wrong when I've told my children that when you wipe something down, you need to rinse your rag out on a regular basis.  Who knew that the way to do it was wet once and then proceed to smear all that dirt or dust onto everything else?  At least you left me a parting gift of shattered light bulb on the bathroom floor.  And how sweet that you were so worried about how much I would miss you, that you didn't even bother to tell me that it had happened.  If I hadn't been here to hear it happen, I never would have known of your gesture or noticed that you tried to make it all easier on me by moving another light bulb over and leaving the end one without a replacement.

While I miss you so much, I don't know that I could handle the pain I would feel to have you come back here to fix it all and then leave us again.  So I'll just manage on my own, although I do want to let the company that sent you in to my home know of your professionalism. 

Until we don't meet again,

Kim