The Music in My Life

            Time to blog again.  I'm gonna find a way to fit blogging (even sort of regularly) into my already cramped schedule. I'll figure it out.  I'm writing this at 6:30am when only one of my little guys are awake and although he keeps trying to break and ruin dvds and I may lose my train of though 10 times before I finish...at least I'm writing!

            So what inspired this post happened yesterday, for the first time in about 8-9 years I pulled out some of my favorite music from high school.  As I sat their uploading the music to my computer I thought to myself, "why haven't I pulled this music out in 9 years?  Not even once?"  And so I kind of paused and pondered for a few moments...and then I came up with some reasons.

            One big part is some of my most favorite music was from my Osmond records I got for Christmas one year when I was about fifteen.  I started to be really into the Osmonds before than and loved their music (which says a lot because I hate 70s music in general hah!) and so my parents got my scores of records and my mom already had a few and I bought a few more off ebay (which was newish and sooooo cool back then haha!) Anyhow, I listened and sang and imagined in my room pretty much all day when I wasn't at school and I just loved all those songs so much.  But then a few months before I graduated from high school my family left Washington state and moved to Colorado and I stayed behind at another family's house to finish I no longer had my cherished records.  And then once I finally joined them...everything was in transition while they lived in a small townhouse and looked for a house and I prepped for college there wasn't time to find and unload my record player. 

            So then I hopped off to college and didn't have my music for like 9 months.  Once I got back to my parents new house for the summer, I pulled it out (I think) and listened to it again.  And then my dad bought my mom this cool record digitalizing machine and we digitized all the records so I had them on CDs!  So I think I probably brought those back to college with me, but then I had some really mean, cruel roommates and started dating "Charming" so I didn't really spend a lot of time at my apartment and so I couldn't listen to my music again.

            Then we got married and were pretty much transient every few months with college and summer jobs until April 2009 when we moved to Denver. Well, then my record play was in storage, I was prego and tired and never put my CDs on the computer knowing it was old and would probably die soon anyway, which it did.

            By this point I had pretty much forgotten the music I loved back in high school.  I had a baby and life just got busy.  Plus I was always a little distrustful of the computers and the idea of doing all that work only to lose it when the computer crashed kind of seemed like a lot of effort.  Now we use external harddrives and move our stuff off so that's not the hugest deal anymore (thank heavens for a computer savvy husband!)

            Another reason for the lack of music I think is because I really don't have time these days to just sit and listen and sing and even when I do I'm so exhausted and it sounds like a lot of work. But I've learned something which I will touch on in a bit that has to do with this.

            The last, and possibly (however subconscious), biggest reason is that music really moves me.  It really touches me and I think sometimes I invest much too much emotion into the music and attach a lot of feelings to it.  So I haven't pulled it out in that long partly because I was afraid it would make me melancholy and make me miss my teenage years and family etc. And it's probably a bit true.  But it helps now that I live only a mile away from my parents. So that is a big help.

            But I starting thinking about that music the other day and told myself that I really needed to pull it out and start listening to it again.  And I'm so glad I did. And for about 1-2 hours I uploaded, sang, and just let the music fill me and move me and while I was signing a favorite song I thought to myself, "this is soooo ME!  Why do I not take even 15 minutes to listen to three songs and just get fully into my musical love for even just 15 minutes??"  It's such a huge part of me I always knew was missing but was too tired to focus on.

            I think my whole round-about point here is that...I've felt lost for a while and don't feel like myself sometimes.  I think mostly because I'm a mom and tired and worn out all the time.  but I think it's also because life and time made me leave big pieces of myself behind.  So at least I've discovered how amazing I feel listening to much loved music and just totally singing and immersing myself in music even for a short little period every day. Apparently it's more important than I ever realized.  I wish I wasn't too tired to sing all day like I used to...maybe that can be my next goal, but for now, I'm so glad that this big piece of me is back!

            So if you are a tired, worn-out, exhausted mom and feel like you've lost touch with yourself...think about when you felt the most you of your life and stand back and see what you are missing and make a little time every day to be that person again.  I think it's important...and we mom's can get so selfless and put so much into our kiddos that I think we forget that we need a little TLC sometimes too!  So that's my little challenge to you!  Go find a missing piece of yourself--however tiny--and remember.  Or if you still feel like yourself just go immerse yourself in something you haven't had time to do for a long time...even if you're occasionally interrupted by the kiddos.  Find a way.  It's worth it. 

Extraordinary Parents

"I want us to be extraordinary parents."

That's the statement from "Charming" that kind if brought us back on track to being the parents we used to be and the parents we want to be.

Granted in essence that is what I have been saying for months but it finally dawned on him in those clear and precise words making it easier for both of us to achieve because it started accountability-- someone else reminding us of our goal, helping us to step back when tempers are short, frustration prevalent, and fatigue winning.  We even told each other to help remind us...even if maybe there is some backfire from it.  (There hasn't been since just by stating the desire to have accountability made it possible to calm down when reminded.)

See back when our first son Ralphie was born we were extraordinary parents. Not perfect of course--because no parent is perfect. But you know, we were at our best possible, I'm sure you know what I mean.  In fact we lasted that way for probably the first two and a half years...then stress became our common visitor.

"Charming" had no job for a few months in 2013, we used the little savings we had to survive, then we had to start growing debt on credit cards just to barely get by.  Finally he started a new job, but with a deep investment, a monthly loan payment that took about 75% of his monthly earnings, and a half/sort of graveyard shift.  Soon after that I got pregnant with Randy and I was to always exhausted and some where in there Ralphie hit his terrible "twos" (which I believe are actually the terrible "threes", but who's keeping track, right?) So suddenly we became these lame, tired, impatient parents I didn't recognize.  Granted we were still better than a lot of parents, but we were too tough on little Ralphie.  He was only 3 after all, but for some reason we expected so much of him that we started being tough.  Suddenly we felt like we were constantly on him about one thing or another.  Something I swore as a young person I would never, ever do.  Then we got emotionally drained from Randy's frightening birth (from which we still aren't fully recovered) and then Ralphie was too rough with Randy and crazy around him all the time and it scared us.  So we had more reasons to be "on him" constantly. Then I started working way too much and we became parents with little patience who raise they're voices.

Not cool.  In fact, it pretty much leaves me full of deep regret.

But since December we have been improving and for the past month or so we are 95% back to those parents we used to be. The ones I was proud of us being.  The ones that had no regrets, felt confident, and totted around happy kids.  We still have tough days where the boys are up all night so we are tired, or we are sick so we have no energy, or stress comes but for the most part life is better and we are better parents again.  This blog post is to help other parents, but more importantly, I think, to help me.  To remind me of what I don't want to let happen again.  No matter the stress, no matter the fatigue.

How did we do an immediate turn around in less than a month?  Well, this is how:

And we are focusing on - -- those things we should do to make us the extraordinary parents we should be.

1- Less work, more play.
I pulled back with the working-- or at least I am still trying to.  That may mean we are tighter financially.  That may mean we have less money to spend on anything besides food (which is crazy because we already had nothing).  That may mean that I often have to tell people no when they need pictures done.  But it gives me more time to spend with my family and taking care of them.  I don't have that constant nagging stress that I have an upcoming photo shoot or pictures to edit.  Seriously. It was consuming my brain so badly with stress and anticipatory anxiety that even while rocking Lance to sleep I couldn't focus on my baby.  I couldn't focus on the greatest things in my life.  Oh my life goal to be a mother--the best mother I can be.  I don't want to ever have regrets again of not spending time with my kids because I had to work when I didn't desperately need to.

2- Don't sweat the small stuff.

We don't sweat the small stuff.  Potty training has not been an easy road...by 3.5 we really thought it shouldn't still be an issue.  But it was and still is at times.  But we've stopped getting frustrated and started rewarding for the good and just being calm for the bad.  We don't get on to him for every little thing.  Instead we talk to him when he makes bad decision and we discipline for dangerous things (like hurting little brother, or anything that is damaging or potentially hazardous in any way).  He is four.  That's all.  Four.  There is no need to expect too much of him.  He is just a baby still.  He is still young.  He should be able to be an innocent, happy child as long as possible  It's funny how when you have that second kid you realize that at 9 months it's totally ok if they are biting or gently hitting.  There is time to teach them, it doesn't need to be this big, dramatic, horrible thing.

3- Put your kids first.

We put then first again.  Let the house get messy, let my photography wait, let dinner be late.  What matters are the boys.  I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that the perfect parents would be selfless.  There would be absolutely no selfishness about anything they did.  So we are working on becoming selfless.  Listening to them when they want to talk or are asking for something.  Cuddling time is essential for us and them!  Playing with them, helping them learn skills.  Teaching them.  Family home evening.  Scriptures studies.  All these things are the most important things.  We get 18 years with our kids and then they are (most likely) out of our home and onto their own lives.  I'm not going to have regrets ever again about not spending what little time I do have with them.  It's taken me weeks to write this post...and that is OKAY because I paused when they needed me for whatever it was.  I didn't get mad when I lost my entire train of thought.  It's OK.  People make too big of deals about themselves and not enough about their kids.  America would be a different place if at least 80% of a parent's life was about make their kids lives better and less about the parents wasting life away online, or just being lazy or selfish.  It's true.  But none of us are perfect at that.  None of us ever will be. It's an impossible balance...I think some days you choose one way and some the other.  And some parents are just better and balancing then others.  But like I said, no one is perfect.  But you find your perfect balance and I think you can be your most potentially extraordinary parent.

But those are the things that have helped us.  I am so happy to say we are doing so well.  Our kids are so happy.  Just purely happy and what better feeling can a parent have then knowing their kids are happy because they are trying their darndest to be "extraordinary parents".

On one last note...someone on pinterest posted a quote from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland from a talk he gave in General Conference in 1997.  I read it and it was very comforting and inspiring to me.  So I'd like to share it here.  Whether or not you are a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints I think it will inspire you.

"Because She is a Mother"!

A New "As Told By Mommy"

     So for a few months now I've wanted a change with my blog...I couldn't quite decide what that change was...but I knew it needed something.  I've missed writing in a blog and need an outlet...more than my journal--somewhere to share ideas, thoughts, opinions, stories, pictures etc.

     So after some months of thought I've realize what I want out of this blog.  I wanted a place to share about being a mother and wife.  A place where I can share parenting skills or ideas or views.  I wanted a place to share the funny things my boys do and say. I want a place to share recipes.  I want a place to share my love of photography and the improvement I gain in that area.  I wanted a place to post random things--FHE lessons, random things about my hobbies and interests.  I'm tired of constantly worrying about any backlash I may get for my posts and opinions.  So I want a place I can write whatever I want--somewhere where people can read it and possibly learn, find help or inspiration from it.  A place where I can share my views and express myself that isn't just in a secret journal in a word document on my computer.   I don't care if anyone reads this blog, but I want the option there in case anyone wants to read it.  I don't care if anyone doesn't agree with me--my opinions are solidified--we can still be friends but don't bother trying to change my mind please.  It really just frustrates me and makes me take a step back from our relationship.  I've kind of even made a pact to not even read posts or opinions that might cause frustration or even anger to rise within me--I do have a bit of a temper and can easily have my day turned into a bad day by people people being rude, "stupid", or just all around confrontational.

     So I took all my old posts off because they felt stagnant and not what this new blog will be like--not quite anyway.  And I still wanted the "As Told By Mommy" name and the cute design I paid for. So...welcome to the new "As Told By Mommy".  A place for me to do all those things I talked about above--ultimately express myself and opinions and experiences.
My blog email is AsToldByMommy@gmail.com.
 I'm also planning on trying to use twitter more often now that I have both a smart phone and tablet (finally!).  So follow away at https://twitter.com/AsToldByMommy .
I'm turning back on my blog facebook page so you can follow that here: https://www.facebook.com/AsToldByMommy

Just a little recap of what you can expect from the new and improved As Told By Mommy:

Experiences as a latter day saint wife, mother, women of the 21st century with a love for all things retro, vintage and antique!
Recipes
Photography
Funny stories
Advice
FHE Lessons
Glimpses into my hobbies, likes and interestes.
My views/opinions on parenthood, family life, world events, maybe even politics etc.

I do hope some of you are interested in following, but if not, I'm still going to be posting!

Just some thoughts I needed to share

Some days or weeks or even months I have so much to say, but I fear backlash and rudeness from other people and causing offense...so I hold my tongue and don't say anything...but some days I just want to vent on MY blog which is for ME and always has been ... to share and express what I feel so I have no regrets or bottled up frustration , but I feel like I can't write what I want without people being mad at me.  Today, I'm saying, screw that...I want to write what I'm feeling.  If you start reading and don't like what you are reading...just stop...you don't need to stir the pot or get angry, I just wanted to express myself somewhere where friends might read, but people who disagree are less likely too.  Ok?

I saw the movie "Frozen" yesterday.  I loved it.  Seriously, I did, don't get me wrong.  It was above and beyond better than "Brave" (I hated that one).  And the music and art was just stunning!  But I have one complaint...why does everyone want to get rid of the old, girl and guy fall in love, girl gets in a bind and guy heroically rescues her?  There is a reason that story line has lasted so long.  But for some reason hollywood and especially Disney is deciding to cater to only the other side.  Women who want not just equal writes, but like to be men or something. I'm all for mixing up plots but if we turn completely away from the story line I mentioned above I'm done with Disney movies.  At least in this one the hero almost saved the girl--in the end she saved the day, but at least he was close to being the one.

From the beginning of time men have a drive to save, to be heroes, to champion, to fight wars to protect their family.  And women have been blessed with the ability to nurture, to have great love and compassion, to serve, etc.  Why do we have to take away what is so naturally and deeply set inside of us?  I know we are individuals, but I know that those things are and should be inherent in most of us.  I'm sad that because there are women out there so hell bent on being treated as equals that the men are looked down upon for being heroic, for wanting to champion women. In my opinion a man like that-- one who tries to champion the girl he loves-- should move on when a woman doesn't appreciate it.  That's a waste of a man.  It's one of the things that I feel is so wrong with society today and why we are headed for an even worse place.

I think women should be able to vote, of course!  I think women should be treated equal in the workplace, and I'm sorry in some cases they still aren't. But there is a reason men and many women don't like those women who are too extreme and therefore emasculate men.  You don't have to be a total biotch to get your point across to the average, modern man or woman.  Be that way to men who doubt you, not to nice men who have no problem with the fact that you are a woman and their co-worker or boss...I'm pretty sure most men these days could care less one way or the other.  I don't believe that's necessary to emasculate men to over compensate for that woman's insecurities, and in fact I think it's wrong.

I wish I lived in an error where women's clothes celebrated the womanly figure (in all it's forms).  I wish it wasn't all about making us look more like men---right now it's all about being too skinny and having no chest.  They tried that in the 1920s...did we learn nothing from that?  I want to wear pretty clothes I want to wear clothes that show I am a woman.  I have hated styles for so long and I'm getting tired.  Why in the world should people at school ask my why I am all dressed up when I'm wearing jeans and a sweater?  Like what the crap?  There is something very wrong with that in my opinion.

And why are women losing one of their most important traits? -- that of nurturing.  So few mothers are nurturers anymore.  Facebook made me sick yesterday with all the horrible things mom's were posting on their about motherhood or their children.  Things on the verge of cruelty.  I would hate to actually be in their homes and see how they treat their children in person.  It's like suddenly it's too hard and too much work to be kind, loving and nurturing and instead so many (not all, but enough) of moms today turn to lies, cruel punishments, lies, and impatience when it comes to their children.  If children are so inconvenient to these moms why are they having so many??  I can guarantee that most kids would benefit much from parenting with truths, explanations, love and patience.  You would see a world of better people, I can guarantee that.  I'm sick of the excuses of "well, I have so many children" (again I ask, then why did you have them in the first place?) or "but they are too young to understand"...there is research out there that says kids understand much more than we give them credit for before they even learn to speak.  And sets the stage for future teaching moments. Seriously.  It's not that hard...it just takes time and patience...and the mother might have to focus completely on someone other than herself for a while (possibly years).  Oh no!  Having children means you are making someone else a priority...it's no longer about the mother. It's another thing that is wrong with society and it's going to make the next generation worse.

My son is the happiest and most kind-hearted little boy.  I hate that he will have to be sent out in a world with children raised to be cruel and bitter and rebellious.  It nearly broke me as a person and it kills me to think it will happen to my son who just loves people and only wants to give and make them happy.  Something happened yesterday and it just reminded me of why I avoid play dates, why I don't believe in preschool, and why I wish I could homeschool and he didn't need social interaction.  I know it's necessary and I know he needs to learn to deal with creeps like those horrible kids out there, but it's frustrating knowing those kids would be very different if they had different parents or parents who raised their kids differently.

I would just like to add that I am not perfect. I am far from perfect--like SOOOOO far and this post was not to make people think I was saying that.  It's not to point fingers at anyone, it's just to make people think and reconsider and refocus and just think for a minute.  If someone truly, deep down disagrees than that's fine, whatever.  My mind won't be changed so I understand.  But I would like for anyone reading this too really look and listen deep and their soul and consider if any of my points and views are valid.

If anyone happens to read this and disagrees, then I would suggest you keep your comments to yourself, however.  I don't want to hear more crap on things that already hurt my heart and soul...I was really down yesterday after reading some status posts from other moms and I just needed a place to share without backlash.  And usually the commenters are only people who think I'm targeting them...and I don't think anyone I'm talking about reads this blog or is even invited, so every body cool down...it's very very likely not even you I'm talking about.

14 things you may not know about me...

1- I'm terrified of the roots that potatoes grow--like seriously terrified.

2- I was allergic to beets as a child...yes, beets...I'm not sure who experimented with those on me.

3- I think Bing Crosby and Donny Osmond have the best singing voice ever.

4- I’d much rather look at a beautiful New Mexican mesa than a mossy, completely green forest in Washington state.

5- I've written a murder mystery novel...but I've only allowed about 5 people to read it.

6- "Charming" says I could be a hand model, and so does every person who has ever given me a manicure.

7- I once had a pet horny toad...that is until he peed on my bed...then I was soooo over him.

8- I used to be the biggest social butterfly in high school and college and could talk your head off...now I actually have a bit of a social phobia and am shy. I'm doing better and can handle up to 2 people in a group, but big groups literally freak me out and my head spins and I start mixing up who's who even if I know everyone well.

9- But true self is this in a nutshell. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRYU4cqUAUs No seriously. Ask my family and close close friends or people who knew me when I was younger--it just takes me a little longer than it used to be myself in front of people.

10- I miss high school choir. I haven't sang in that kind of choir since and I don't think I'll ever be singing in one again. In fact I hardly get to sing anymore at all. I miss singing.

11- I LOVE food...like REALLY love food. Dinner is my favorite meal and it must be large. I could never diet seriously. I can't give up food. And I love baked goods. If I ever wanted to lose weight I'd have to exercise like a mad woman instead so I could continue to enjoy my food.

12- In college random people that I had never met knew me as the "pumpkin cookie girl". Apparently I made them frequently and strangers would show up for a taste-- didn't matter the semester/season.

13- When I love shows and get really into them I always dream about them. But not just about them. I dream I'm a part of the character ensemble. I've had some awesome "Psych", "X-Files", "The Mentalist" and other show dreams.

14- Tall people (especially good-looking ones) freak me out. Seriously. I just realized this a few weeks ago, and it's been a life-long issue...doesn't matter if they are friend or stranger...if they are more than 2 or 3 inches taller than me I just feel short, frumpy, and intimidated. But realizing that is the first step to recovery, right?  Now all you tall people know why I stutter like a weirdo around you. 

Never Walk Alone

     We live in a neighborhood that is out by itself...most people in this city don't even know it exists and think we are kidding when we tell them how to get here.  It's a small neighborhood as well.  Just one circular block--I'm not sure how else to explain it.  If you walk around the outside of the neighborhood for miles in each direction is just mesa, and then way in the distance you can see some houses.  Our neighborhood is also currently being developed which means there are many many workers...including many working in the lot next to us.
     My favorite form of exercise is walking.  I love to walk...but I'm easily bored by my surroundings, so the mix it up I sometimes walk around the outside of our neighborhood.  I'm always a little uneasy about doing it without "Charming", but he always tells me not to worry.  See, I'm pretty sure there is an occasional drug deal going down ("Breaking Bad" anyone?)...seriously though.  Or at the very least some very shady characters parked on the outskirts hanging out in their car...next to another car with shady characters.  I'm making it sound a little worse than it is...but you get the idea.
     Now a little side-note here...we live in a place where "Ralphie" stands out because he is sooo blond and 95% of people are dark haired...and then about 4.7% of the rest of them are blond but nowhere close to as blond as Lincoln.  So, you know, he stands out.  We get stopped at least 3-5 times whenever we are out by people commenting on his hair and how cute he is.  So, you know, just another reason to be extra nervous and cautious.
     So yesterday I went for a walk with "Ralphie" while he rode his little bike with the training wheels.  We walked around half of the inside of our neighborhood and he wanted to go to the outer area to see "the fishies" aka a HUGE puddle (almost a pond, really) with tadpoles in it sometimes.  But as we get to where we turn to go out of our neighborhood I look up to see these two creepy workers hanging out in the driveway of a house that's being built.  They watch us for a few minutes which gives me bad vibes but I shrug it off and we go on.
   So by the time we reach the very outer corner of the outside of our neighborhood and are about to head to the puddle this old gray car comes driving up from the neighborhood slowing down as it gets closer to us until it's slowly driving next to us and these two creepy guys are looking at us smiling.  So I get MORE intense bad vibes and tell "Ralphie" to start peddling fast and I pick up my cell phone to call "Charming" (who is at home semi-nearby).  Well these guys come to  a stop behind us and start getting out of the car...so are grab "Ralphie"'s handlebar and tell him "go fast" and start pulling him while I walk as fast as I can, telling "Charming", "COME NOW."
   In the end they went over to look at the puddle and we ran home.  That may have been their intent all along and they just thought Linc was cute...or they may have had other plans until I got obviously suspicious and picked up my phone.  Because really...what grown men go to look at tadpoles in a puddle.
   But that is why I am no longer gong to walk outside the neighborhood without "Charming".

The "puddle" which is now 5 times larger than it was in this picture...also shows you how isolated we were when those guys drove up.

Frustration

  My heart struggles on a daily basis when I am around other peoples' children.  Children are so precious, so innocent, and so beautiful -- the world is so new to them -- new ideas, discoveries and concepts are being thrown at them at such a pace that I can't even comprehend.  And while all this is going on and these sweet innocents are growing up our world is getting more and more cruel and selfish.  My heart aches for children.  Why?  Because couples selfishly want children -- sometimes without even thinking about how hard it will be and how much of themselves they will have to give -- and then once they have the children they don't give them the time, teaching, and love they deserve.   And this literally kills me inside.  I want to gather up all the children I see being mistreated and give them the love and guidance they are missing.  And maybe I'm weird. Maybe I'm weird because no aspect of being a mother surprised me. I  expected it all.  I expected the sleepless nights, the less personal time, less time with my husband, the overall involvement of caring for and teaching a child.  I'm in NO way saying it's easy--but I knew it wouldn't be.  And I expect when this next little angel arrives that I won't be surprised either.  People tell me "oh, you just wait until you have two".  Oh, I'm sorry, I think I will still parent the same, still give oodles of time and love to both children.  And I can bet you very soon after he is born we will be back to being on time when we have appointments or even play dates at other people's houses.
   Now back to parenting...
    No, I'm not a perfect parent.  I don't think anyone is. But when you parent selflessly and with love as your main drive I think you're on the right track.  And that's what I do.  When "Ralphie" needs me--I stop what I am doing 95% of the time (as long as it's reasonably possible) and go to him or I tell him just a minute, take just a minute and go to him.
   I take the time to explain things to him.  Since when is "no", or lies, or threats the best way of teaching our children?  Truth is, it's not -- there is no intelligent argument that would prove otherwise -- at least not to me...and probably not to Heavenly Father either.  In my opinion it's the lazy, selfish way out.  Your child's not eating their vegetables at dinner?  Do you scream at them?  Do you tell them if they eat them they will be prettier (or other similar, ridiculous lies)?  Do you threaten them with horrible consequences or additional lies?  Or do you take the time to explain to them why their vegetables are good?  How once they try them they might like them?  How it provides important things for their body to help them grow?  Yes, this takes time.  And yes you may have to repeat yourself...
   But seriously, why isn't this the route more parents use?  Why does lying and threatening with more lies seem to be the first instinct for parents?  It angers me, honestly.  these beautiful children deserve more -- they deserve more love, more compassion, more patience, more teaching, more understanding.
    Lying and cruel threats are never acceptable.  It's just not.  You might ask...what about when kids ask about things they aren't ready to hear the truth about?  Well, most of the time you can tell them a small part of the whole truth (with no lies added) and that's all they needed -- this is true for those scary questions like "where do babies come from" and death and etc.  I found one article with some great points I wanted to share that kind of go along with this:
   "One way to know if your child is ready to hear the truth: Try him. Introduce the information slowly, gauge the reaction, and proceed or retreat as necessary. Be as honest as you can be while making sure he feels safe, and knows how a situation might relate to his own life, and how it may not. Kids only want to know what an event or circumstance means to them." http://www.huffingtonpost.com/peggy-drexler/when-its-ok-to-lie-to-kid_b_2796415.html
    And you might ask about Santa, the Easter bunny etc...well, I'm an honest believer of the wonderfulness of believing in Santa and the magic and imagination it brings to kids.  But trying to explain that would be hard so the same article as above had a good way of phrasing it that I totally agree with and a few other good points:
   "Acceptable lies: The ones that serve to protect children from information that would hurt them; the ones that help foster imagination and belief in an age-appropriate way, like in the case of Santa; or lies that that aren't exactly lies, but some small withholding of the truth, because you fear they don't yet have the capacity to deal with or understand the facts. Keep in mind, though, that kids can be surprisingly perceptive and often understand the basic themes of a situation -- hurt, sadness, happiness -- even as they may not understand some of the complexities. Jane's eight-year-old Ned, for example, could understand that his parents were having a disagreement, but Jane knew he didn't need to know about what. Talking about it later, however, became a nice teaching moment -- everyone has disagreements. A child doesn't need to know all the details, but if they suspect there's something you're not telling them, they may tell themselves that they're the problem."
   But one more note on Santa and his pals...if we flat out asked my mom if he was real, I think she asked us, "do you really want to know?" and then when we said yes, she told us.  No matter our age.  That's another important point about the Santa stories.  If they flat out ask and you lie (even if you want them still to believe) that's probably not going to help them down the road and might even lead to their doubt in real things you've told them about like God.
    And on a slightly different but similar track...Want to hear something crazy?  "Ralphie" has never told us "no" defiantly until this past week at three.  That's right.  Believe it. I hear children at 18 months or less angrily shouting "no" at their parents.  Do you want to know why I think it took him longer than other children?  Well, I'll tell you anyway.  It's because we don't tell him no.  But let me expand on that before you assume we give him anything he wants or let him get away with murder.  When he was tiny--long before he could talk, we decided from our own upbringing, from books, and from our hearts and prayer that when "Ralphie" was doing something he shouldn't we wouldn't just tell him "no" and leave it at that.  No we started -- before he could probably even understand us -- to EXPLAIN to him about why what he was doing was bad, dangerous or what have you.  He tries to put his finger in an outlet, we didn't just say, "no", we said, "Ralphie don't put your finger in there.  It's very dangerous.  You could get hurt." (using whatever words were age appropriate).  We caught "Ralphie" coloring on the wall -- we didn't yell no, we told him, "please don't do that.  It won't come off and it will make the walls not lookyucky" or something to that effect.
   I asked my mom recently if she ever heard us tell use the word no.  She said she couldn't think of one time.    Now he says it frequently.  I think he learned it from other children, honestly.
   Another thing that hurts me when I hear or see it happening to children -- things that I consider physical or emotional abuse.  Lately I hear of this most when it come to potty training.  I won't go into specifics because I'm not trying to point fingers or anything, I honestly just needed to express my feelings and and frustrations and sort them out.  But some of the ways people "punish" or react to their child's potty training weaknesses or failures really upsets me.  Research even shows these are BAD ways to teach children to be potty trained, and yet, parents still opt for them because they are easy with faster results...but I promise you there some emotion damage is done (research proves it) and that whether or not it's subconscious, it's there.  
   I hope no one feels I am pointing figures.  I was just so saddened and frustrated lately that I had to express myself -- I just needed to express the frustrations and sadness in my heart.  I hope that it reminds people of the precious souls our children are and how much love they have and need.

Horror Find in the Bedroom

So...one night in our bedroom "Charming" and I found this..."Ralphie's" Mr. Potatohead, done his way. It was actually a bit creepy...

In fact...I was so creeped out...I made "Charming" destroy it before I went to bed...I didn't want it watching me while I slept.  Haha!

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Horror Movie

     Another horror movie experience last night. I was in "Ralphie's" bed helping him fall back asleep (he woke up screaming...I think from a nightmare).

     He felt a little cold (the weather is definitely changing here) so I turned off the fan (for the first time since we have lived here) and laid back down.   

     But then...I hear it.

     I hear a really strange noise...like paper or a plastic bag "blowing"...so look by the air vent, thinking that perhaps some plastic bag got on there or something...nothing.

    So then I listen more closely.  Listen to try to find where it's coming from...somewhere at the foot of the bed...

     Then from behind "Ralphie's" toy box I see something long and skinny thing crawling up his wall!!!!!!  I thought briefly it was a snake...

     But no, it was worse...it was a centipede...crawling up his wall...and the noise I was hearing was it's millions of feet scurrying on the wall...yah, I almost fainted.  Seriously.  I honestly almost passed out.

     So my weak scared voice calls for "Charming" who comes in, half asleep, and stares at the wall.  I grab "Ralphie" and run for the bedroom.  Then "Charming" kind of stands there for a while--(He told me later he was trying to decide what to do since it freaked him out and he didn't want to somehow accidentally touch it...we also knew if you smashed part of it and not the whole...it would run both ends away!!  This from experience in my past.)

     Finally he grabs the bug spray and sprays that son-of-a-gun to death...chasing it along the wall.  Then it mostly dies so he puts it in a jar and sprays in a bunch more poison for good measure.  It was huge by the way...more that 6 inches long!  Anyway, "Charming" refused to sleep in Ralphie's room haha...I don't blame him!

     When he told me he put it in a jar, I asked, "did you put it in one of my big good ones?"
      "Yah!  I wasn't about to try to put it in a tiny one and let it touch me!" he told me.
     "Oh, dang.  Well, I'm not going to use that jar ever again.  I'd rather buy a new one if I ever need one."
      "I don't blame you," he told me.  haha!

     Anyway, that's our horrible horror movie experience!  

Life Surprises You Sometimes

How crazy is life? No, really, how crazy and unpredictable is it?

I have been transcribing mine and "Charming"s journals lately and yesterday I was working on my journal from the second semester of college.  (You know, the semester when I met The Hubby.)  It's funny to compare my journal to his journal of the same weeks...I talk about him the first time about four or five months before he talks about me in his. Granted, I am a girl and have about 5-7 entries to each of his one entries.  But still!  Course...I also only wrote about crushes, and dates and drama in mine and he wrote about more intelligent stuff...you know, like working out or selling pest control.  You know, boy stuff.  (I'll have to find a picture of him from back when I met him!  You'll love it!!  I only have one or two from that semester...so tell me if you wanna see them!)

But one of the last entries from that semester...one on April 26, 2006...last day hanging out with him (and other friends) before we all left for summer ends like this: "Sadly this is probably the last time I'll ever see him [The Hubby] again though!" 

Hmmm...six years, a wedding, and one baby later I guess I guessed wrong on that. :-D

Bug Invasion

          So...I've been thinking lately that we just can't seem to get a break from weird, and a bit miserable, happenings.  I'll tell you the newest one here in a minute, but then I realized that these little and weird happenings are much better than trials that we could be getting.  I'd much rather deal with no air conditioning briefly, postponed house purchasing, a small car accident where no one got hurt, low cash flow, and the lastest adventure (swarming ants) then deal with say...a more serious accident, or a seriously sick family member, or any number of things I could mention.  So bizarre as it sounds I was very thankful in my prayers last night for our recent small trials.  I would much rather them any day.

        

       So here is our latest trial.  Swarming, flying ants invading our home.  Yep, that's right.

        It all started innocently enough.  "Ralphie" and I would play on the back porch and these big inch-long flying ants would occasionally come at us and I would smash them. They have huge pinchers and the last thing I wanted was for Ralphie to get bit.  I can remember getting bitten by New Mexico ants as a kid and it hurts and stings for a long time after.  Pretty soon though we start finding a few in the house and, like, you know, 5 instead of 2 outside on the porch.  So I tell "Charming" to get some bug spray for us to take care of them.

        It takes him a few days and finally he gets some.  He sprays the back of the house's perimeter then decides he will spray our bedroom sliding door too since the few days before this we'd seen 5+ in our room.  Well, I was downstairs helping Ralphie with something when Charming calls from upstairs, "Uh...Sandy?  Can you come up here?

        I kind got scared from the sound of his voice and asked, "is it gonna freak me out Charming?"

         "Maybe."  He paused and then said, "actually maybe you shouldn't come up here."

        Yah, right, I was right around the corner and almost there...so I walk in and almost die.  There are like at least 50 ants crawling around on our carpet, walls, blinds etc.  And then I'm like panting crazily, cause I seriously have bug nightmares all the time and this was like a nightmare come true.

        And with a guilty look he says, "it's worse."  And opened the sliding door blinds. 

       I seriously almost start hyperventilating.  There are literally HUNDREDS of these huge flying ants covering our porch.  Hundreds. Maybe even thousands...I was never good at guessing numbers.  And even weirder they are like in clumps.  I only have a cell phone picture of the first night, and it can't figure out how to get it on here...but anyway...

        Charming sprays the door and I texted my mom the picture.  My dad calls back and says Charming better spray the entire perimeter of the house.  So we head outside and he starts spraying.  I spotted our neighbor Kimberly outside and went to ask her about the bugs to see if she had a problem too...because if it was just us I hated to think what that meant.

         So I asked her and she tells us that it had happened the first year she lived here.  Her back porch was black it was so covered with them.  And that her pest control selling neighbor told her they migrate through here sometimes and land on the roofs.  And that usually they are high in trees when they migrate and so you never notice them.  But where we are there are no trees and her house at the time was the highest in the area.  So they landed on her house only.  She said she had to have someone spray the roof to kills them and it helped.  She also told us she had been seeing tons of them too...and that since we were the only two two-story houses nearby that's probably why it was just us.

         So Charming doesn't want to spray the roof and he says we'll just wait it out.  We vacuum up all the ants in our room and more and more just still keep coming in.  So I slept in Ralphie's room with him, refusing to have to worry about the bugs climbing on us or crawling into our ears.  Which I did dream of and had to keep getting up to check on Charming all night.  The next day they just got worse.  And the next day worse.  Charming still wouldn't spray and I still refused to sleep in our bedroom.

          About three nights ago or so it rained hard and I washed a bunch of them down.  Here is a picture of the ants after I had washed a bunch down already.

Then the next day after that there were even more than I had washed down.  Here they are on the roof flying, buzzing and falling in clumps.

 Here they are in  their piles in the backyard.  They are nasty huh?

 FINALLY it just got so bad in our room and on our balcony that Charming finally sprayed the room, porch and door.  And they finally all died.  Here is a pick before I washed them off last night.  They had blown into piles (piles at least 1/2 an inch thick)...just imagine these in clumps and spread all over the porch.  Ick ick ick!  I am iching just thinking of it.  Anyway, I think the poison helped and the worst is over...but seriously yuck!  Ugh!

(Charming's foot in an attempt to show the scale of the pile...this one was 1 inch deep in the middle at least)

The rain gutter as I was washing them out.

GROSS!!!

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Finding Ourselves

The other day on my personal facebook account I wrote this: “Living back out here I have found a huge part of me that started getting lost many years ago when we moved to WA :-) It's nice to have it back. :-)”

            But what does that mean?  And what part of yourself did you lose?

            Well, let me step back a second and explain something.  I was born here in Albuquerque, New Mexico.  Yes, it’s a desert.  Yes, it’s dry here and we have droughts year round.  Yes, there are few trees or lawns and we have rock yards full of desert plants.  But you know, what? I LOVE it!  I love it more than any other place I’ve seen or been to—in fact I prefer this.  

             Are you thinking I am crazy?  Probably, but have you ever been here to the “Land of Enchantment”?  There’s something about it.  Something that strikes a chord in most people who visit here, many of them afterwards wish to come back and live here—and many do!  Especially this part of NM...because there really are some ugly parts haha...

            Well, I spent the first 10 years of my life here (minus about 9 months that I lived in New Orleans as a little girl).  And I loved it!  We played outside all day every day it seemed like.  Our dog killed our backyard grass and so all there was was dirt, but my dad built us a cool damn and mountains out of the dirt and we would run the hose for hours making rivers and playing with our toys in it (as an adult I would love to know how much my parents water bill was every month haha).  New Mexico is hot—we often have a few weeks that are up in the 100s, but an average summer day is between 87-94—perfect.  And it’s not like 90 degrees would feel like in Louisiana.  No, it’s dry, there is no humidity, so it feels a lot cooler and you aren’t all wet and sticky.  I HATE humidity.  Denver was too humid for me even!  

            And the autumn in NM is GORGEOUS!  The beautiful cottonwoods (which are my favorite) the line the bosque and streets turn an amazing yellow!  Oh, you haven’t seen anything like it until you go down to the river and see the gorgeous blue haze of the Sandia Mountains hovering over the golden yellow of the cottonwoods on the Rio Grande river.  It’s breathtaking.  And the winters here?  Wonderful.  It rarely gets colder than the 30s/20s and we hardly have snow.  But we get enough snow to fulfill kids dreams of building snowmen.  And many days of the winter we don’t even need coats...just sweaters...and I LOVE sweater weather!

And the Sandia are gorgeous mountains...the sunsets reflcting on them are always pink...sometimes bright sometime pale, but that is where they get their name.  Sandia is spanish for Watermelon...the Watermelon mountains...how gorgeous!

            I LOVE it here.  But soon after my 10^th birthday in about April, 1997 we moved to a little sleepy, wet town in Washington state, minutes from the Canadian border and even closer to the coast.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  Ferndale is a lovely town, with lovely people, and it’s gorgeous and green.  But the people there are different…the landscapes are different…the weather is different…and it rains…all the time.  In fact it’s a lot like that place Bella moves to in Twilight…gosh, I don’t know they name of the town (I've only read part of the first book and seen the movies each once), but it’s the same.  Only rainier than the movies show it.  I mean it rains ALL THE TIME.  Some machine in Seattle once measured how much sun shone through in 90 days (and that included little second bursts of sunlight through the clouds, however brief).  THREE HOURS.  That’s it.  Three hours total in 90 days.  Yuck.  No one dresses nice there either.  I don’t think this matters to most people and many times I think people would prefer it nowadays.  But when you wear a sweater and jeans to school and people ask why you are all dressed up…that’s a bit weird and kind of sad.  But when the average Ferndale student wears their pj bottoms or sweats to school, that’s what you get...I'm was odd I guess. 

And I really am not dissing on Ferndale.  I loved it.  It gave me many opportunities I would not have had here—especially where school is involved.  I have many dear friends and families there who touched my soul and brought a lot to my life.  But even through the fun and finding new loves, hobbies etc…over the eight years we lived there I slowly lost a part of myself.

And through college in Idaho, and our few years in Colorado, it completely vanished. Do I know exactly what that part of myself was?

Honestly?  Not really.  All I know, is yesterday while driving through the slopping mesa, under the bluest of blue skies, which the prettiest and most unique puffy white clouds, with a complete view of the beautiful Sandia Mountains from highest peak to lowest foothill, and listening to the Dixie Chick’s “Wide Open Spaces”, it hit me.  I had found a part of myself—a feeling I hadn’t had in many, many years. And suddenly I felt almost whole again.  (I say almost, because there are a few things I’ve realized I am missing in my life like music, singing, acting etc that I still need to add) but that is the closest to whole I have felt in many years…the most recent moments like before this where when I was 16 of 17, and they were very brief moments where I was living in a world of music and performance which is also a huge piece of my soul—that’s the part that is still missing right now.

But I think that driving through town feeling is one of the biggest pieces of my soul—of who I am.  And it sure feels good to have it back.  And I think, that I will make sure I slow down in life and remind myself of it.  That’s part of why I am writing this.  To help remind myself.  And to tell you, that if you are feeling anything but whole—like you are missing some part of yourself…go find it!  Keep searching!  Trust me, to make it through this crazy world of stress, frustration, disappointment, heartache (you name it) we need all of ourselves.  And I won't lie, it's a constant, constant battle, but it's worth it.

Lame Agents, Bare Behinds, and a Heat Wave (Part Two)

Please read the previous post (part one) before reading this one for a little bit of background information.

So we wear ourselves (and my dad and brother and mom out) the next day packing and moving.  We move in, finally pick up "Ralphie" and take him to our new home.  Guess what.  The air conditioning isn’t working.

That’s right.  NO air conditioning on the hottest week so far this summer—temperatures in the 90s…nothing but unpacking for me to do.  And what’s worse The Hubby didn’t believe me for hours until it was too late to call anyone.  (Actually it was too late anyway, but still he needs to start believing me!!)  You should also know that I go CRAZY when I am tired and hot and often get sick when I get overheated so I was flipping out, literally.  So mom basically drags me out of the house (I’m convinced this was more to save The Hubby rom me than to actually help me) and brings me to Wal-mart where we buy three osolating fans (I have NO idea how to spell that and apparently Word has no idea what I am trying to spell either, so…sorry!)

Ok, so we get the fans going, but the temperature in the house keeps creeping up even as the evening wears on…80…81…82…83…etc.  I am laying there like a sweaty slug trying to calm myself while my house is covered in boxes, the food hasn’t been brought over (and won’t for probably 24 hours) so I am hungry as well (my family has a tendency to get SUPER grumpy when we are hungry...I'm the least worse of those of us infected, but it's nowhere close to pretty) and try to remain calm and keep from getting to sleep.  Finally we bath Ralphie, The Hubby akes a cold shower and then I do.  I feel slightly better, but am sooo not excited to have to sleep in the heat.  I don’t know about you but I can’t sleep very well in the heat.  It's like super impossible for me.  We had the windows open and I have this intense (The Hubbycalls it ridiculous) fear of someone sneaking in our house at night and stealing Ralphie.  So of course, with the heat and the fear mixed together, I lay awake for hours….and hours…and the clock rolls on.

And I just keep getting more frustrated and hot so I continue to toss and turn…finally at about 2 or 3am I get up and go downstairs.  I figured I might as well be productive if I can’t sleep so  I find the manual for the gas furnance/air conditioning unit thingy where the air conditioner is attached and read the troubleshooting page…well, not too helpful since I have no idea what the crap it’s talking about.  So more frustrating than ever I head upstairs and close all the windows, thinking that since there is a tiny bit of cool air coming out of the vents maybe that would work better.  And per my OCD I make sure they are locked tight, and proceed to throw myself in bed and groan some more.  (I should add that Ralphie has been asleep this entire time!  I can’t tell you the last time he slept that long without waking.  It was like some kind of miracle.)

Anyway, my most recent groan wakes up The Hubby and after some groans and frustrated conversation between us we decide to get up (in our undies cause that is all we were wearing because of the heat) and go into the garage and check out the system.  Well, we head through the utility room and The Hubby pens the door to the garage.  I briefly think it’s weird that I had locked that door (I know, I know, The Hubby ells me it constantly, I’m OCD and too freaked out about someone getting into the house, but whatever)—anyway, I think it’s weird that I had locked the door but The Hubby pened it no problem.  But this was literally a brief instance of thought though since The Hubby as continuing out the door and heading toward his drill and so I quickly followed him out.

Ok, so The Hubby akes apart the bottom of the system and all seems to be working…so we have no idea what’s up. Nothing looks wrong or switched off.  So we sigh and he starts to drill the plate back on.  I go to the door to check on Ralphie…and um, yah, the door is locked.  Apparently it was locked but not closed when The Hubby ent through it to the garage.  So there we are…in our undies, locked out of our new house with no keys, or cell phone, and our little baby asleep (hopefully) inside.  Our little baby who wakes up every night totally out of it (takes after his mommy) and freaks out if he can’t find us.  And he is locked inside the house, upstairs, in the dark with only one bathroom light on and nothing else, in a new house he doesn’t know, where mom can’t come to him when he calls for her. 

So I literally start freaking out.  The Hubbygets mad, asking me why I locked the door and why am I so OCD and why do I even think someone could get in through the close locked garage and adds, also, that no one could ever climb up onto our second story to get Ralphie.  We stare at each other  and wonder what the hell we are going to do??

The Hubbyopens the garage and we go outside (undies and all) and he looks around trying to decide what the best option was.  The workers who had built our house had left a pile of sand bags and tiles next to the garage and by the outside wall.

“I’ll climb up and get in through on of the windows,” The Hubby says.

Through my frenzied, emotional wreck, guilt-ridden self, I say, “you can’t.  I closed and locked all the doors.”

He glares at me.  “You sure?"  

I can only nod.  

"I think I’ll try in case.”

So he climbs up on the sand bags grabs the roof and pulls himself up onto it (in nothing but underwear--no shirt or anything.) 

Let me throw this in here while I have the chance and a voice—and he wonders why I think someone could easily get into Ralphie's window.  Sheesh.  And he has done this before in even harder circumstances, so sorry, but if someone wanted to steal Ralphie they could do it if they were strong enough.  Sheesh!

Anyway, he pulls himself up and checks Ralphie’s window.  Nope, locked up tight.  He kind of walks around up there angrily for a second and then climbs back down.  Then he goes to the back door just in case it’s unlocked.  You got it, locked up tight thanks to his OCD wife.

            So he comes back around and we go back in the garage and try to decide what to do.

            “Your mom has your keys right?” he asks.  “I’ll have to go get them.”

            Again, the over emotionally, crazy lady (me) says, “you’re only in your underwear.”  Even though I knew that was our only option, I still didn’t think he would do it.  “What if Ralphie wakes up, freaks out and falls down the stairs?” I cry suddenly all freaked out.

            He just stares.  “Aren’t there ANY clothes in here?”

            Then I remember that there are actually some boxes that the boys had put into the garage instead of the appropriate rooms because they were so tired by that point and that perhaps there were some clothes in there somewhere!  “Maybe,” I tell him.  And began searching while I pray we can at least find something for him to wear.

            A miracle, by some bizarre chance…amongst the girly sweaters and a silky robe I find a pair of his swim trunks.  I keep looking hoping that I can find shoes, but to no avail.

            He stares at me then, in only his swim trunks and undies and thinks a moment. “Ok, I’ll have to run there barefoot.  It’ll take me six minutes or so to get there.”

            (My parents now live only about 1.2 miles away, so you do the math.)

            He heaves a sigh and points to the rocker that we left in the garage for him to fix.  “You can sit and wait there.  I’ll kind of close the garage.  It’ll take a little while, ok?”

            I nod crazily and he heads out.  And then the longest minutes of my life start.  Long minutes where all I do is stand by the door, rocking crazily (this was either from being freaked out with worry or because I had to pee really bad) and listening for a scared frightened cry behind the locked door.  My mind goes crazy (as a mind of an OCD, overly worried, fatigued mind does) and I think…”what if Charming gets bit by a rattler or attacked by that damn coyote that’s been wondering around the neighborhood without fear?”  Our little neighborhood is at the bottom of a hill surrounded by nothing but mesa.  Once you go the 1.2 miles to my parents then you get to their little neighborhood around which is nothing but mesa…so yah, it’s very possible those things could happen…unless rattlers aren’t out at night, but I have no idea about that.  So I rock back and forth for five minutes or so that seem like five hours and finally decide to start counting the seconds to maybe calm myself.

            Meanwhile, Charming, after running on a lightless, dead street he finally arrives at my parents house…sore-footed, sweaty, and tired.  He rings the doorbell, waits a few minutes…nothing.  He tries again…and again…who knows for how long.  My little brother Trent finally comes to the door in a confused, sleepy state—he said later he thought it was the police since in our past besides a crazy family we once knew in another state that is the only time our doorbell was ever rang that late at night.  He stares at Charming and Charming says, “we locked ourselves out, Ralphie’s in the house alone and we need Sandy’s keys.”  

           So Trent hands them to him and stares again.  “And I need a ride home,” Charming adds.  

           And Trent kind of shakes himself awake and is like, “oh yah, duh.”  Lol, he’s cute.  Anyway, they finally arrive and we are able to get into the house.  Ralphie slept through the whole thing and never woke up that night until 6am…that was a crazy, once in a lifetime thing for him!  So quite a blessing.  We finally went to sleep…Charming had to get up 2 or 3 hours later to go to work poor guy.  Days later his legs and feet are still aching from the barefoot, dark run.

            The next morning we went to my mom’s house to email the house people about the air conditioner.  My mom, all distraught says, “what kind of mother doesn’t wake up when her poor son-in-law is half dressed and locked out of the house at 3am?”  

            Lol, my dad and brother start cracking up and ask me if Charming was “bare-assed” under his swim suits.  When I told them no, they said they were sure he was and begin to tell me about some part in that movie “Water Boy” (which I have only ever seen part of) in which where they are all reminiscing about someone running down a football field losing his pants but the guy runs “bare-assed to the touch down” or something.  So they start saying in a deep southern accent (which is not hard for my dad, being from New Orleans and once having an accent himself--which still crops up now and then), “remember that time when Charming got locked out of the house and ran 1.2 miles bare-assed to get the key?” and start busting up.  Mom adds, “that’s probably how the story will go down in our family history.”  Haha, probably knowing my brothers and father that's true.

            Well, two whole long days later (after finding a huge, basketball sized, 50 pound chunk of ice frozen around the air conditioner pipes and waiting for it to melt and another day for them to arrive) we finally got it fixed--it was low on...free-on because someone didn't do their job fully.  Since then it turns out our microwave is shotty and only works half the time…we probably shouldn’t use it for that reason, but I NEED my microwave to thaw meat and crap.  (Ok, that sounded really gross haha)  Anyways, that’s the story and as I sit here headache and all I’m just glad I have air conditioning, and wasn’t the one who had to run bare-assed 1.2 miles.  Also there are some cute little desert owls that live in a dirt hill one our way out of our complex…they are adorable!  I love to stop and see them every time I come and go. :-)  Pictures soon I hope!

THE END