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"!

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

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

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

            We made it.  We’re here…in our new home…finally.  Oh, and our air conditioning is working.

            Say, what?  Oh, I see you missed that headline.  Let’s start at the beginning.

            Everything went pretty smoothly the whole while our house was being built—minus the fact that they forgot one of the windows that we paid extra for and were going to put our tile in our dining room down crooked, but yah, whatever, we got that taken care of without too much drama.

            Even our walk-through went well.  Charming’s dad, through a stroke of genius, suggested we film it.  Which we did and in the two weeks since we have referred to it numerous times since.  But a few days after that was when it started to get bumpy.

            But, I need to step back again briefly.  We originally were meeting with Mark Smith at Frost Mortgage here in Albuquerque. We LOVED him!  He was fantastic!  He made our buying a house possible through his know-how, even though Charming was self-employed for six months last year.  He knows his stuff!  Anyway, we just adored him, but at some point we got transferred to another person.  A lady who is here in town, I am guessing because she was closer and Mark Smith is so awesome he was needed elsewhere.  Well, she was not as wonderful as Mark, not even close.  She never told us what was going on and always informed us of things last minute.  And later we realized her secretary did most of her job anyway.  Yah, she’s one of those people.

            Anyway, we call her a few days before the walk-through to see what the deal is and why we haven’t heard anything about closing.  She tells us they are planning for the twelfth.  We are excited—knowing we have given them everything they wanted and the literal hour they asked for it.  No messing around or procrastinating.  We were on top of things.  So let’s see…the walk-through was Thursday the 7^th and closing was supposed to be Tuesday the 12^th.  So Friday (at 5:50pm, of course) the secretary calls us and tells us that they had us fill out one of the forms wrong and we need proof of employment from Dish Network before 11 on Monday.  Wow, thanks lady. 

So we are frustrated, mad and worried all weekend wondering if we can even get that that fast.  We know Dish Network and they are jerks to their employees…we don’t even want to know how mean they are to their ex-employees.  Ugh.

So first thing Monday Charming calls them…only to find out that it’s even HARDER to get proof of employment that we had figured.  You have to go through this email address and it can take at least 5 days.  So we are mad.  Mad that the lady told us to fill out the form wrong, mad that Dish can still torture us even though we quit them.  So we email, and hope they get back to us in not too long.

Days roll by…days and days…Wednesday we hear back…oh, sorry, “Please advise.”  What does that even mean.  At least use the word correctly.  So we send them some extra info, and figure we have to wait at least two more days.  Friday the 15^th in the morning, the secretary calls us…the lady (notice I am omitting her name to be nice) called and hounded Dish, accusing them of breakings some equal employment act.  So they eventually send the proof over and it goes to underwriting.  The lady tells us we could maybe close that day. We don’t.  So she says Monday.  We don’t.  Finally Tuesday we close…and it’s a breeze because we have everything prepared.  And the house is ours! Nothing can go wrong…well, except for that we can’t move until Friday cause of Charming’s bizarre work schedule. But wait!  TCharming goes to work and finds out that by some rare occurrence his schedule was changed (in six months they have only changed his schedule one other time) that we can move Wednesday!

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.

To be continued (because that is probably enough reading for right now huh?)