In The Last 72 Hours

I've had an interesting three days. And by interesting, I mean crappy. It started Wednesday morning when William ran out of food at breakfast. I was elsewhere in the house helping children get ready for school when he grabbed onto the tablecloth (there was someone's leftover breakfast still on the table) and pulled and pulled until said leftover breakfast and ceramic Halloween bowl were smashed to pieces on the kitchen floor.

Fast forward to MULTIPLE poopy diapers and a very ouchy looking bum all because he his cutting four teeth at once. He's hard core.

The rest of the morning was dedicated to cleaning, for a potential buyer, who was coming by to look at the house that afternoon. At lunchtime, my "oh so clumsy" daughter spilled milk all over the table, herself, and the freshly swept and mopped floor. A bath was in order. I was loving and patiently waiting for the water to reach her desired temperature, when, as I bent over to plug the drain, my iPod fell out of my pocket and into the water. I might mention that I have a very close personal relationship with my iPod. We're rarely separated. She's always in my pocket soothing me with audio books or motivational music. I toss her into a bunch of rice (per Internet instruction on how to save a wet iPod) and commence with the cleaning.

Potential buyers are late, which almost makes me late dropping off Preston at piano. Trevor comes home none to happy about the iPod situation which puts my defensive nature in overdrive. After Abby spills all her juice at dinner, I decide a trip to the store for Desitin is in order. I come home to a much more sympathetic husband and the rest of the evening goes by without incident (however, the kids were in bed so what could really go wrong while the little angels sleep?).

Then, Thursday morning arrived. Abby had her preschool Halloween party, so most of my morning was devoted to primping my little princess. The boys were awesome and got ready without complaining and we were ready to go well before the car pool showed up. I dropped Abby off at school and went to work in Carson's classroom.

It was on my way to Carson's classroom that I got the voicemail from the carpool reminding me of Preston's field trip to the Discovery Museum and also reminding me that I had forgotten to pack him a sack lunch. I was told not to worry, they had their son split his lunch with Preston. They must think I'm so incapable...which might be true.

Abby's preschool party was adorable and we went home to change out of her costume. You see, Thursday is Chick-Fil-A day. My favorite day of the week next to Saturday and Sunday. We were almost ready to walk out the door when I reach to scoop up William to put his shoes on. Speaking of shoes, I had misplaced (or my children had) one of my flip flops, so I had to borrow Trevor's. The over sized toe on that darned flip flop caught the edge of my rug and I fell full force onto the floor, landing with all (and I mean ALL) of my weight on my left knee. ON WILLIAM'S FOOT! Poor baby was hysterical! I was in shock. Or at least my knee was. I couldn't really move. The pain had shot all through my leg. But the mama adrenaline kicked in and I was able to comfort him, examine him, and deduce that he was not seriously injured. Off to Chick-fil-a!

It was on my way into Chick-fil-a that I felt like something was maybe wrong with my knee. I hobbled in, ordered and sat down. After twenty minutes or so of chatting with my friend (the fabulous Jamie) and feeding my littles, Abby wanted an ice cream cone. So, I hobbled up to the counter, got her the cone, and hobbled back to the table. As I was sitting down, Abby tried to squeeze into the booth behind me and I sat on her cone. My ice dream booty was now covered in soft serve goodness. I scooped up the smushed remnants of cone, slapped it on our tray and told her to eat it with a spoon. The lady in the table next to us declared Abby "charming" when she scolded me with a deafening, "Mom! I told you!". What she "told" me is a mystery since she hadn't spoken a word, but whatever.

15 minutes later, my "charming" daughter alerted me to the fact that William was stinky. That was an understatement. Frothy, foamy poo (sorry, I have to tell it like it was) was oozing out his diaper and up his back. Panic. I have no wipes, no diapers and not even a clean napkin on the table. The fabulous Jamie rushes to her car and comes back with wipes, and a swim diaper. As I race to the bathroom, with William at arms length, the lady at the next table burst into gleeful hysterics.

With my baby all clean, I resume my "restful" lunch. Trevor called somewhere in the middle of all this. When I told him about my knee, his first reaction was, "Brenda! Don't you know you don't have insurance?". My reaction was this, "No Trevor. I forgot until I was halfway to the floor and thought, 'Dang (I didn't say dang) I can't fall. I don't have insurance.' I was going to stand back up but, the flight to the floor was so fun, I decided to go through with it". Then he apologized.

As we were leaving, I hoisted Will onto my hip and immediately feel wetness through my sweater and shirt. My thoughts were that he had had too much to drink and soaked through the flimsy swim diaper. We rushed home and I whisked the diaper off to discover it's not "wetness" but was, rather, explosive diarrhea. A quick clean-up, and he is off to nap time, while I plop down on the couch with my cantaloupe sized knee.

Oh how it was throbbing! The boys came home and joyfully? started in on homework. Then Mimi called to say she was 10 minutes away. This was a happy, yet unexpected surprise. I paid the boys $2 each to speed clean the downstairs (luckily she didn't look behind the office door where they stashed everything). I didn't move from my cozy spot on the couch.

Trevor came home a couple hours later. My memory fails me but I think this might have been when I mentioned that the air conditioning had gone out in the van. Had I not mentioned that yet? Well, the air conditioning is out in the van.

Friday morning dawned...with no milk in the house. Off to the donut shop we went. The boys get dropped off at school and I hobble into WalMart seeking a brace for my sore injured knee. I'm thinking it's a sprain but Trevor is convinced it's a torn ACL and will only be healed by a $50,000 surgery. Who would've thought I'd be the glass half full one in the relationship? After WalMart is Carson's field trip to the pumpkin patch and home again to rest and ignore the sink full of dishes and explosion of toys in the house. I was successfully resting when my carpool buddies call to see if I can pick up the kids even though it's not my day to pick up. Not a problem.

At 3:00pm the realtor calls and wants to bring by another prospective buyer between 4:30 and 5:30. Not a problem said I, as long as he can make it 5:15, so I can get my munchkins ready for the ward Halloween party that night. He ASSURES me they'll be done at that time.

At 3:05 I pack up Abby and Will to go get the big kids. I place my key in the ignition and...nothing. Dead van. I had left the power on in the car, because I had to get a DVD out of the player that Abby wanted to watch inside...for 4 hours. The fabulous Jamie had my back and picked up the big kids, dropped off the car pool kids and helped me jump my van. After all that drama I had exactly 27 minutes left before the realtor showed up with the prospective buyers.

Enter more cash bribing to the kids to speed clean. They rock at speed cleaning. I rock at speed dish washing and vacuuming. We are out the door at 4:31. The realtor is there and is waiting for the prospective buyers. We leave and head to McDonald's for a treat. We drive past the house at 5:10. I was hopeful that the prospective buyers had already come and gone. The realtor was still waiting outside for them to show up. We continue driving around the neighborhood for 20 more minutes until the prospective buyers finally show. Luckily, they are good at speed house hunting.

That's about where the drama ends. There were a few scoldings from Trevor about me not taking adequate care of my knee by resting, icing and elevating it. But after a few times of me spatting at him about the last three days he's stopped trying.

Last Wednesday

So much to blog and so little ability to keep my eyes open. Must power through.

Last Wednesday was awesome! Until it wasn't anymore. Let me explain. Wednesday happens to be the boy's minimum day at school and since we are running out of time with our Disneyland passes (sob, sob, SOB) I decided to take all four kids and a friend to my favorite place. I'm crazy you say? Only slightly. They were awesome and we spend a great, crowd free, four hours there. Then, as we were loading into the van to go home, I got a call from the realtor of the house asking if the dogs were penned in the back. No they are not. Well he has a prospective cash buyer and wants to show them the house. Now in my mind I'm panicking. The house isn't bad...but it isn't show worthy. There is laundry piled on my bedroom floor, it's clean, but still a pile. The carpet hadn't gotten it's daily vacuum (because it's a horrid color that shows EVERYTHING)and there are wet baby socks on the floor that I had tossed as we were rushing out the door to Dland after William stuck his foot in the dog's water bowl. I warn said realtor about the state of the house and tell him I will be home in 45 minutes to put the dogs in the backyard.

Fast forward to 50 minutes and 3 annoying calls from the realtor later (to see where I was) I pull up to the house (with the realtor and prospective cash buyer in my driveway) and start pushing the automatic garage door opener. Nothing happens. I push it again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. Uh oh. So I have to explain that I have no idea why our power is out, I was sure I paid the bill and proceed to break into my own home with the realtor and prospective cash buyer looking on (the back door was unlocked so it wasn't as dramatic as I was making it sound). I frantically start making beds and picking up laundry and wet baby socks while calling Aunt Cindy to see if they have power at her house two streets over. They do. What the heck?

After the realtor and prospective cash buyer depart, I send the boys out to play. I have them inquire to the neighbors of their power status. No power. Weird, but at least it's not just me. Fast forward one hour to Trevor coming home and pulling up the same time as the Edison power dude. Trevor asks what the deal is. It's a blown transformer. Of course. Where is the transformer located? My front yard. When will the power be on? His best guess is 6:00am.

Fast forward to me ditching Trevor and 4 kids to go to bunco, in the dark, with candles but no matches or lighters (they're packed). I did put in a call to Aunt Cindy to go rescue my people. She did. I'm thankful.

Fast forward to me coming home at 10:30pm to a very dark, very creepy house. No power guys in sight. Hmmm. Maybe they won't come fix it until the morning? Trevor and I watch a movie on the ipod and turn out the lights at 12:00am.

Fast forward to 1:30am when the Edison power dude shows up...with his ARMY! Five huge, HUGE, trucks, a minivan, a pickup, 15 guys and 4 flood lights. All in my driveway. In my driveway that sits below my 14 month old's window. Can you see where this is going?



~The armory and a flood light shot taken from William's window.~

He actually didn't wake up until 4:00am, but was bright eyed and bushy tailed then! After 3/4 of an hour trying to coax him to sleep in our bed, I gave up and sent Trevor to take pictures of the nonsense outside. Might as well get some blog material out of it, right? Trevor said it was the most organized chaos he's ever seen. That's all well and fine, but it's still 4:45 in the morning.

~Organized chaos.~

~More Armory.~

Fast forward to 5:23am and we have power. Power and a gaping hole with no grass and the roots of a tree exposed. Evidently, it was serious. Our ARMY of power dudes roll on out and William falls asleep at 5:45am, 15 minutes before Trevor's alarm goes off. Awesome.

~Pulling out (with me wondering if they are going to take the flood lights with them).~

~A spanking new transformer sitting in front of a gaping hole and the roots of my poor tree exposed.~

Nothing To Say

Really. Nothing is happening. Trevor still works.


~No real reason for this picture, save that I think he's so cute.~

I still attend to my mother/wife duties. Preston is still in 3rd grade, and piano (did I not mention piano before?). Carson still hates school, 1st grade, getting up in the morning, getting dressed, going to church, putting on shoes, cleaning up, doing homework, reading, going to bed, brushing teeth, eating certain foods, going certain places, and occasionally hates me, his brother and/or sister. Abby still loves preschool and has a new found love of shopping. Will is seeing the effects of his walking and is thinning out nicely. He is getting into EVERYTHING. I think it's funny. Trevor does not.


~Getting into the pantry. Soooo cute!~

~"Snuggling" Abby to sleep?~

We did happen to take in an Angel game a couple weeks ago. Please see accompanied pictures.


~"A" for Andersen...I mean Angels.~

~Jeff Mathis at bat. He's our favorite.~

~Watching the game.~

~After an ice cream sandwich.~

~Sticky cotton candy hands. I love it.~

~I love this little nose twitching face.~

~The media guys. We were so close to them.~

~Carson couldn't make it upstairs when we got home.~

Last Friday, we went to Disneyland. We got onto the tram at 6:55pm and were informed that the "Happiest Place on Earth" would be closing at 7:00. Thank goodness for California Adventure. Our passes expire in two weeks (or Carson's does), and speaking of Carson...the little boy who hated Disneyland, now loves it. Just in time.

Loving The Limbo

So, the whole packing/moving situation is in limbo right now. I have basically finished packing and now we don't have to move immediately. As of this moment (the next moment could drastically change things), we still have a couple of weeks left in this house. I'm grateful. We still have no where to go (this is excluding a storage unit we have on hold and the Extend America Hotel in our town-I should have said, "We still have no permanent place to go").

I may be driving my family completely bonkers right now. Besides the obvious neglect on my children's appearance (not so obvious with the boys, but you should see Abby's hair on a daily basis), they no longer have access to...anything. Trevor wanted to toast a piece of bread...but I packed the toaster. Carson brought me one of the three things still left in the pantry. It was Mac-n-Cheese...but I packed the pot to make it in. Abby wanted to play Barbies with me...but the Barbies are in a box too. Preston was instructed to do his daily 30 minutes of reading...to his pleasure, I had packed all his books (I have since bought 3 to tie him over). William seems to be the only one not complaining about our new, simple, way of living.

I, on the other hand, rather enjoy doing less laundry (because I have packed all but 5 outfits for each person), less dishes (because we're only using paper products), seeing less clutter, and not having to search the house for ANYTHING for ANYONE, because my go-to excuse is, "I probably packed it", even if I'm not sure that I have. They roll their eyes and grumble and moan but can't pursue the issue. Muahaha.

And now I conclude with an appreciative heart to those who have helped me (not Trevor). I couldn't do it alone no matter how hard I was trying. As stressful as it should be (I'm doing pretty well considering), we've felt a good deal amount of comfort and peace that everything will work out. We'll find a place sooner...or later...and we'll try to enjoy doing the limbo in the meantime.

Reunions, Freezer Jam, And The Pox

So, yeah. We went to the Miles Family Reunion. It was awesome. There are a lot of crazy people in our family. It makes me proud. 4 1/2 hours isn't enough time for all the crazy, but we tried. The kids had some fun in the bounce house, swimming in the lake (more on that in a bit), playing games, hitting pinatas, and eating shaved ice (with flavors like, bubble gum and tiger's blood).

The adults had fun chatting, eating, playing "minute to win it" games, eating and chatting. We dig getting together with everyone. Especially when we inadvertently expose them all to the pox.

I swear we didn't know. After all, he has chronic dry skin and we thought it was eczema. There were no spots on his face or trunk area (until Monday which prompted me to finally take him to his pediatrician on Tuesday) just on his arms and legs. Plus, he's had two varicella vaccinations, so clearly he couldn't get chicken pox. Clear as mud. We truly apologize. If it makes you feel better (and it DOES NOT make me feel better), swimming in a lake at a family reunion isn't kosher with a kid with the pox. They get bacterial infections and their knees swell and get all red and hot. Then they go on antibiotics. On a brighter note, I drained the aforementioned knee. Disgustingly satisfying. It feels much better today and he was able to practice and will play in the Little League Championship game on Saturday morning. Whew. On a side note, his doctor has informed us that he is no longer contagious and is free to mingle with the rest of the population. His brothers and sister however...

And speaking of the price of eggs, I made freezer jam. For the first time. Ever. Not to brag or anything, but I'll bet it's the best freezer jam ever made in the history of man. I'm a natural. A bonafide jamming phenom with a box of Sure-Jell in my hand. One rookie mistake. I bought way, way, way too many strawberries. I made 5 batches (26ish containers) of jam and have enough left to make 7 more. So they're sitting patiently pureed, in freezer bags, until I find the time (or the will) to finish.

Being An Idiot Hurts Your Back And Your Wallet

I was watching a tractor plow a field today...while driving. I rear-ended a Toyota Tundra. It dinged their bumper. It totalled our van. We have insurance. It's liability only. And my back hurts. Today sucks.

Look What We Did Last Saturday

After 9 hours of labor...





...she was born!

~Don't mind the nasty condition of the van. Now that she has a home I'm sure she'll be more hygenic.~

Spacing It

I was planning on doing a cute blog post about Carson since I hadn't talked about him in a while. But now I can't remember what is was I was going to say about him. I have stuff waiting in the wings about William, but I feel like he consumes the bulk of the conversation lately. Not that he's not just the best blog subject EVER, but still, I have other children.

Let's move on to Abby, shall we? She and I have been bonding these last three weeks. I'm happy to report, we are getting along swimmingly. She still has her bouts of stubbornness (alright, me too) but she is starting to resent me less and warm up to me more. She still has her moments (mostly when I sit down to nurse the baby) when all she wants is me. These also seem to be the times she absolutely has to go potty right now! I've left William screaming on the couch more than once to go help Princess relieve herself. Speaking of restroom issues, the regression seems to be waining and we are almost back to perfection in that department. Insert audible sigh of relief here.

She has taken on some of my more motherly (bossy) traits now. I often hear her comforting William, chastising the big boys and she likes to tell me "Just a minute, I'm busy. Okay?" when I ask her to do something for me. We've had a couple of scares with her carrying Will down the hallway. In her defense, the only times she's been caught attempting this is when he's crying and she's trying to bring him to me. In her words, "Will wants you mama". Mama wants William to live until his first birthday, however, so I'm not always as grateful for her help as she assumes I should be.

One of the highlights of her week are the days when Lily comes over. I watch Miss Lily once a week and boy these girls can play. They love lotion and baby powder and board games and liquid soap;) They're pretty sneaky too. Instead of nursing being a cue for Abby to need me desperately, it becomes a 15 minute window for them to run free. We do love having Lily over and Abby gets pretty upset when it's time for her to go home.

I've taken a few pictures the last couple of weeks of these two sweet girls. Here's their day in photos.

Usually, they are good buddies. They like to dress-up together.

Ocassionally, they need the same toy. Sometimes there's a scuffle.

After a brief "time-out"...

...they decide sharing is a better plan.

Like I said, we love it when Lily comes over. Personally, I'm grateful for the playmate, it takes some of the focus off Will.

~They even trade shoes. BFF's in the making.~

5 For Friday

I'm getting pretty disgusted looking at my dirty van every time I get on my blog. A new post was the only way to change that. The trouble is, not much is going on around here. So, because I'm sick of the dirty van picture, and I have nothing of great importance to share, I'm going to steal a leaf out of scuzin Melanie's blog pages and do a 5 for Friday post.

1. Last Friday we got a new member in our extended family. Trevor's cousin, Sunny, and her husband, Rick, adopted the sweetest baby boy. This is such a miraculous story that I have to blog more about it later. We are having a shower for her and Baby D tomorrow, so once I get some good pictures, I'll share more. Let's just say, it's not your average adoption story and it's obvious that this baby belongs to them. I'm still riding a little happiness high for them a week later.

2. Sunday we got a new member in our extended family. Does that sound repetitive? Trevor's Aunt and Uncle picked up their brand new puppy. They brought her over to our house to share and the kids couldn't have been more excited. Carson especially. I hope he's half as excited for baby William as he is for Harley. He cried when we wouldn't let him have a sleep over with the dog. Honestly.

~Pres and Uncle Vance~


~Carson and his new BF Harley~

~Abby's turn~

3. I almost got caught up on laundry. Almost.



4. Abby's personality is getting really funny or really strange. Either way, it's entertaining.

~Falling asleep watching Annie~


~She picked out her own clothes. Jammie shirt and Carson's shorts.~

~A gift from Uncle Vance...thaaaanks.~

5. I'm getting bigger but better;) and still revel my little guy moving around CONSTANTLY inside me. He's definitely a mover and a shaker. I love every minute of it.

What Month Is It?

It's 6:08 pm right now and 97 degrees. Two hours ago, my car thermometer read 100. Seriously? Triple digits? I'm not complaining... well, maybe a little. We have had to run the air conditioner and I really don't want to pay for that. Here's my confusion, last week it snowed in Utah. My poor sister's are freezing and I'm melting. Where's the happy medium? It's as if we can't figure out that it's spring. Not winter. Not Summer. Spring!

Abby was in the back of the car with the reddest little face you ever saw. Preston was sweating so much it was in his eyes. When he wiped it away, he left two pretty streaks of dirt across his face from his oh-so-clean hands. He felt better after a shower, and is now lounging in nothing but jammie bottoms. Trevor is braving the heat with Carson at, yet, another baseball game. I love him for not making me go. I'm sure I'll have some hot tired boys walk through my door in a little while.

On the menu? Chinese Chicken Salad. There's no way I'm slaving over a hot stove tonight!

On a less bellyaching note, my baby boy has the hiccups right now. I revel that feeling. He's really been a monkey the last couple of days, moving non-stop and kicking like Ronaldinho (that's for my Bergholm boys). I've said it before, but I just LOVE being pregnant!

Age Restriction

What's the age restriction on siblings bathing together? I haven't let the boys bathe with Abby for a while now, but they begged and pleaded last night. Here was our compromise. Am I being neurotic?

~Preston is mock diving~

~Bathing Buddies~

Now It's Getting Personal

~The new sign, which looks a lot like the last two~

I was robbed again last night. You remember last time right? Well, as promised, I got another sign. This time I took very tender care of my sign. She was always standing straight in the lawn and promptly brought in each night when the sun went down. Last night, I thought, "eh, tomorrow's the election, who's going to steal a sign on the last night?". Some free-speech-stealing jerk is. He/She wiped the neighborhood clean. Not one sign left. I try not to be too political on my blog. It's supposed to be about my family and their happenings. Well, this involves the future stability of families and it's happening to me. Even though we have only 11 hours left until the polls close, I'm still going to keep shouting out my cause. My friend Heather has 3 signs in her yard. I borrowed one. Take that, you two faced son of a jackal (that's from Aladdin, I could have been more colorful)! Anyone who knows me know you can't shut me up! P.S. I voted, so should you.

Tomorrow; Santee Alley. Trust me, it's a good 'un.

And it Begins...

She's a good 6 weeks early folks, but Abby has "happily" entered into her terrible twos. My once contented child now has a stubborn mind of her own and voices that mind as loud and as long as she sees fit.

This morning, while both of her brothers were broadening their minds, Abby and I were playing with my diaper bag makeup. I shouldn't do this. I know I'm setting myself up for a major catastrophe down the road, but it's fun. I would place a little lotion in her hand, and she would rub it on her cheeks, or legs, or just moisturize those chubby little hands of hers. I decided that 10 applications were plenty to hydrate my little girl's skin. Abby decided otherwise. What ensued was a tantrum that had me in fits of hysterical laughter (what can I say, I just find tantrums funny) and Abby in fits of hysteria, period. Being the ever so compassionate mother that I am, I grabbed the camera and set to collect evidence of her stubborn ridiculousness.

I am proud to announce that Abby, once she sets her mind to something, doesn't give in easily. I'm sure it's a quality she'll use later in life for the good of mankind and it's not a thorn in my side that is going to fester over time and one day be the death of me. I choose to be an optimist. After, running away from me upstairs, through her brother's room, into their bathroom, and into the corner of that bathroom, she still flung herself away from me. Although, that flinging resulted in her banging her head, first, on the wall, then, on the floor, she got her point across. She DID NOT want her mother.

I put her in her crib for a little time-out, but I'm afraid the picture taking only angered the beast. She. Was. Ticked. I can only describe it as aggravating a starved lion, by poking it in the face with a stick, I was just asking for danger. A much safer flinging ensued, as she would looked at me, scream, and then dive into the pillow and blankets to dissolve, yet again, into tears. Seriously funny stuff, my friends.

When I let her out, she tried to hide from me again, behind the crib. I was too clever and just walked around to the other side to take the picture.

This irritated her and she began wedging between the crib and the wall. I just ate it up. The blogging moment was getting sweeter and sweeter.

She'd had it with me by then and ran into the bathroom again. After a quick snap, I decided that this 15 minute episode was long enough. I forced her into my arms and wouldn't stop the snuggling her until she calmed down. A couple of Doritos later, she was my sweet, happy girl again. The lotion lay forgotten.