Want greener grass? Use fertilizer.



I just finished reading Swapping Lives, by Jane Green.  It was the book pick for this month in my Mommy Bookclub.  (not our official name, I just call us that because we all initially got together (four years ago this September) on an online forum for Northern Colorado moms).  Intended as a light summer read for the season, I would say that this book really stirred up some intense introspection for me - unlike any book I have read in awhile.  Yet- given the gist of the story, not for the reasons you might think.

The premise of the story is that a single, thirty-five year old English journalist (Vicky), buzzing about the London social scene, craves a different life.  She longs to be married to an attentive husband and have kids, a large dog and a large fancy house in the country.  With no prospects on the horizon, a plan develops where she will trade places (swap lives) with another woman for a period of one month.  Vicky will trade her fun-filled single life with Amber (a desperate suburban housewife), who craves to be reminded of what it is like to be single again (or at least have a break from family life), and find the answers to what she is looking for.

IMPORTANT!  No - I do not wish for a break from family life.  I don't wish to have my career back.  And I most certainly do not wish to be single again.

My introspection comes from other food-for-thought throughout the book.  Do I like having a busy suburban social life?  Do I really care about clothing and accessories?  Do I miss the freedom (from before kids) to go out and about with friends and do whatever?

Social life.  I certainly don't have the kind of social life that is mentioned in the book.  No league or charity luncheons, jewelry shows or yoga classes and shopping trips.  I do have a busy life, but it is more centered around activities for the kids - with the grown-up socializing happening around the fringe.  We go to the park to meet with other homeschoolers during the week, and the moms get to socialize there.  Lucky for me, there is no sense of competition here.  No one is checking out what anyone else is wearing, not a trace of make up is to be found, and most every one's hair is in a messy ponytail.  Perfect.  If there is any envy at all, it is in the food.  The kid's lunches to be more precise.  I envy the moms that have a vast array of fruits and vegetables all washed, diced, and ready to go.  Organic everything. (Okay, I don't envy that... I have my limits.  Or rather, my budget does...)  But, I suppose there are lots of sideways glances going on to check out what other kiddos are having for lunch.  Do I like being so busy?  No.  I struggle with how to fit it all in on a daily basis.  The schooling portion of our day always seems to get the short end of the stick.

Clothing.  Up until maybe a few months ago, I had no idea what Jimmy Choos were.  Shoes that cost that as much as my monthly mortgage are not attractive to me.   Chic lit that is all about fashion (clothing, shoes, handbags, etc...) is just not an enjoyable read for me because it is absolutely foreign to me.  So yes, that part of this book I did not like...  Some readers might think of it as a nice escape or a way to dream.  For me, I grew up always being just a couple steps behind with what was in style, so clothing has never been my thing because I felt like a dork.  The Sears catalogue defined my elementary years, my dad's old shirts defined Jr. High, and High school was what I could afford at the mall, given my pooled resources of what I earned and a clothing budget from my mom.  My closet was not exactly brimming.  As time went on, and I was on my own, I shopped Land's End and LL Bean almost exclusively.  I liked the soft cottons, the beautiful simplicity, and the suggestion that I could go on a hike and shop at the farmer's market and not even have to change.  In fact, a good portion of my closet still contains those pieces - a good testament to how well made they are.  Nowadays, I spend most of the clothing budget on the kids.  I think I may only buy one or two things for me a year - the exception being when I was pregnant - and that whole wardrobe was used three times over!  I hate jean shopping the most.  I have one pair - and they don't fit very well at all.  Post-pregnancy has not been kind to me, and I have a very complicated shape to fit.  I absolutely refuse to spend more than $50 on a pair of jeans.  I also can't stand the jean styles that are in fashion right now.  At least I cannot stand them on me.  Also, I would need the whole ensemble to make them work - the right tops, the right shoes (the right figure), and that is where I get pissed off.  Clothing should not have to be that complicated.  And then there is the time it takes to find the right outfit.  I don't have that time.  Clothing shopping with the kids is an absolute joke.  Forget trying anything on - just grab the hanger and hope it fits. 

Accessories.  I am a sucker for organization - so I will admit that I am a sucker for purses.  I am also very, very picky.  My husband made the mistake of offering to take me shopping for one as a birthday present a couple of years ago.  After an hour of searching, I gave up.  Everything was too big, chunky, shiny, or just plain ugly.  About a year ago I came across a Miche handbag display at a local teacher's supply store (of all places).  I was smitten.  But I couldn't justify spending $$ on myself when we had workbooks to buy.  I finally made the purchase a few months ago.  I love it.  And I have received so many compliments on it (which is an absolute first for me)- and I hope I have steered a few ladies towards purchasing one.  They are great!!  If you don't know what makes them special, it's that the outer shell is magnetic and therefore removable.  So you can change the style of your purse by swapping shells in less that two seconds - without having to unload your purse.



As for other accessories - scarves, jewelry, belts.... um.... I never wear them?  The kids would pull at the jewelry, and everything else just gets in the way.

Dinner parties, play dates and luncheons.  We have attended just a handful of dinner parties in the time that we have been married.  Having infants will do that to you.  Going to dinner at a friend's house, who has small children as well, is the ideal scenario.  It gets easier and easier as the children are getting older.  I just wish we could do it more often!  Play dates happen on occasion.  In homeschooling circles - everyone else is doing the same thing (lessons), so sometimes getting kids together is tricky.  It is also hard because we have four kids.  Sometimes it is just Jordan, or Jordan and Rylan, but involving all four in a play date is a challenge.  Parks are ideal for this reason.  I know there is a lot going on socially in my circle of friends, (because Facebook tells me so...), but our dance card remains empty.  This is largely my fault. 

1.  I am very shy and am terrible about calling up a friend to invite her and/or her kids to do something.
2.  When a friend suggest that we need to get together for a play date, I fail to follow through.  See number one for reason why.
3.  I've been a yo-yo sickie for the past three months.
4.  I have a hard time achieving balance in life - and schooling/housekeeping pressures prevent me from taking the social stuff more seriously.
5.  We do get invited to a few things, but our busy schedule means that there is almost always a conflict.  Once you say 'no', a second invite isn't always forth-coming.

So - back to my thoughts on the book.  I liked that each woman experienced small epiphanies that their 'life' that they left behind for the sake of the experiment was, indeed, the one they wanted after all.  The suburban mom felt that the most poignant self-realization was that she was no longer in control of her life.  Her household help knew more about the day-to-day activities of the household than she did.  She let the social-climbers of the community dictate what she cared about.  I can identify with that.  I often feel like I am not in control of my life - and am living in a way I don't really want to live.  Running from one activity to the next (this June schedule is a perfect example of that), that I don't get to spend enough time with the kids (which I KNOW sounds ridiculous coming from a SAHM), and the unpredictability of each day frustrates all of us.  It makes me really sad when I get to the end of the day, and I realize that I never sat down to just read a story to Rylan or Owen, that I never got down on the floor to play with Colin, or took the time to go down to the local pond with Jordan so that he could fish.  And again, there is my failure to achieve balance.  All I think about is the kids - I don't take the time to take care of me, or dedicate time to just 'be' with Dean.  I've shelved a lot of my wants and needs for the sake of theirs.  My 'homework' from my therapy session is to find a way to do this.  No idea how, at the moment.  Get back to me in a couple of years.  Do I feel loss because I don't have a career anymore?  No.  That I am sure of.  I do take the time to get books from the library that interest me - books that cover different aspects of the human condition (you can see this reflected in the books that I have completed so far this year) - and a lot of ideas are percolating in my head.  I have always loved the social sciences - they were my favorite college classes.  The suburban mom who gets the chance to go back to work and actually 'do' something?  To feel part of the team?  Yeah, I can identify with that. There is a bit of wistfulness there, but not much.  My day will come, after the kids move on to their next phase in life.  In the meantime, I get to fine tune what it is I actually want to do - plus the job market will change so much between now and then, anyway.

Did I always want to be a mom of four?  A stay-at-home-mom?  Homeschooling?  uuummmm.... No.

Funny enough, when I was in my early twenties, I thought it would be exciting to move to a big city, and live in a high-rise apartment and have an office job.  The access to shopping, cultural activities, restaurants... that could be really cool!  But.  I am an introvert at heart, and that whole scheme would never work for me.  I would hate it.

My life (as it is now) didn't just happen.  Choices, circumstances, events beyond my control all worked to shape it into what it is today.  I love what my life has become, though.  Even though (at times) I feel like we must resemble a herd of elephants on stampede whenever we enter a store, even though I constantly feel buried under piles of laundry, dirty dishes and unopened mail, I never pause to think that the grass might be greener somewhere else.  If you want it to be greener where you are presently at - just fertilize it with the good stuff.  Begin by taking the time to list what you appreciate about your present situation, what you need to change in order to make it better, and then follow through.  Greener grass will most surely follow.

Muffin Tin Monday and Mayhem

It's Monday... time to put the peanut butter away and feed the kids something different!  Owen is proudly showing off his plate.  We've got chicken nuggets, ketchup, Colby cheese stars with mini multi-grain Club crackers, vanilla yogurt with star sprinkles, baby carrots and cucumber slices and diced cantaloupe.  Cantaloupe has become a recent love of Owen's - he can't get enough of it.

Last Monday, our June calendar looked pristine.  Lots of empty, white boxes.  Only a few routine things were listed there, like school days, karate and boy scout camp.  By Wednesday, June 1st, our calendar looked like this:

WTF?

I am a firm believer in not over-scheduling kids.  One sports activity.  ONE.  (In our case, that would be karate).  But I am also a firm believer that kids need to know how to swim.  Lessons are completely out of the question during any other season than in the summer.  It is disgusting how much private swim lessons cost these days, and the 'small' group is more like LARGE group.  Summertime small-group swim lessons at the neighborhood pools are the only way to go for us.  So, unfortunately, the entire summer schedule is at the mercy of the lessons.  For Jordan, it means swim team.  He is beyond lessons, but his swimming skills are less-than-stellar, so for him, this is the answer.  Luckily, swim practice begins at 6:50 am and is over at 8:30... which is just in time for Rylan's lesson, at the same pool. 

What I am a sucker for is those one-day or short-session classes.  Archery.  Cooking.  Gardening.   I initially think - "Hey, it's just for six weeks.  That's not so bad!".  Oh, but it is bad.  In an already busy day, it is very, very bad.  It means that we will be lucky if we get in even an hour's worth of lessons - which will mean mostly workbook stuff and reading in the car.  Nothing 'meaty'.  It means living on whatever is in the snack box in the diaper bag.  I would love to be the uber-mom and have a cooler all packed and ready to go - just swing by a park as we are out and about.  Let's get real - I have no shame!  We're living off of the pretzel pieces we find on the floor of the minivan!

School schedule.  I schedule our school year to run from June1st through May 31st.  It has just kind of morphed into that.  You may have noticed that I now have tabs at the top of the page, one for Rylan and one for Jordan, that lists their subjects, the curriculum we use, and their schedule.  I have been tinkering with the schedule a lot lately because I suck at accountability.  I have to find a way to keep myself honest.  So, I came up with a spreadsheet to count up our hours.  I've looked at Homeschool Skedtrack, but I think it is more than we need - and honestly, I just need a way to count up the minutes.  Do I really think some person in a suit is going to come knocking at the door, asking for proof that we did the requisite time (694 hours)?  No, but I just know that in the past four years of homeschooling, we have not hit that mark as of yet.  And we need to.  So to make that happen, over that past year we've adopted a year-round schedule, a daily schedule that ensures that I've allotted time towards every curriculum element that I feel we need to, and that every child has a chance for some one-on-one time.

Now, if I could just figure out the 'me' time....

Finding me? No.

I am starting therapy next week.  I am anxious, but I am hopeful.

You see, I am hurting.  Some days it is a lot.  Some days just a little.  And some days I feel pretty good.  But the good days don't last, and even then, the good days are always tempered.  I am not a playful person.  I don't radiate fun, love, or acceptance.  I do experience these feelings, but they are always in the midst of a dark, choking mist, that never quite goes away.

Depression is hard stuff to shake.  In the past decade, just a few bad things have happened in my life that has truly been full of really good things.  But the bad often outweighs the good in my daily battle to keep perspective and keep my spirits up.

Seven years ago I got married, and then divorced (in April, people!!).  I had married the person I had been in love with and living with for ten years.  Two weeks after the wedding, he told me that he no longer loved me and that he wanted a divorce.  He took some of his stuff and left.  I looked over the pile of wedding gifts that covered the entire kitchen and living room, and felt like the biggest fool on Earth.  Over the next few weeks/months, I had to pack up the rest of his stuff (because he left it and I wanted him gone).  In doing so, I discovered the real explanation for his departure, in the back of his dresser drawer.  A Christmas present, with a card signed, "Terri".  Before the ink was even dry on the divorce papers in August, Terri was pregnant with twins.  Joy. 

It is my sincere hope that none of you can relate to the kind of pain that this particular scenario can bring.  I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.  Well, okay, one person.  My former sister-in-law because she told me I deserved it because I was so stupid for not seeing it coming.  You can't even fathom the kind of pain and humiliation this kind of experience brings about.  To have to explain to everyone that just attended your wedding that you are now getting a divorce?  Nu-huh.  You can't.  Here's the kicker:  He left me.  I still loved him.  He was my life for almost eleven years - you can't just extinguish you feelings overnight.  In this instance, divorce was worse than death.  In death, if the person that you loved in life is now gone, that's it.  They're gone.  You can even rest-assured that they are gone from your life because death made it so.  With divorce it's different (at least in my case).  The person I loved, who I considered my best friend was gone.  He still walked this Earth.  He went about his day, but without me, because he didn't want me to be a part of his life.  It is so difficult to reconcile your feelings - you are angry as hell, but what about the feelings of love?  They die a slow, tortuous death.  Every photo ever taken during the time you were together bears some sort of memory.  Every song.  Every restaurant you ever went to.  Every concert/sporting event/party/holiday something-or-other/birthday/anniversary/funeral/birth.  Every *thing* holds a memory.  I've spent the last seven years sifting through memories.  It's difficult when you remain in the same town as when you were with this person.  Let alone the same house.  Over the years, the *stuff* has made it's way somewhere...else.

Wedding dress?  At the local consignment shop for the last two years.  Maybe they forgot about me.
Photos?  Most have been hacked up.  I can't quite bring myself to do them all - because the other people in the photos were friends, too.
Cards?  Gone.  Made a good fire.
Wedding video?  I haven't watched it in six years.  Yet I can't destroy it.  Again - there are family members in it - especially my grandma, who just passed away.
Furniture?  Most of it is gone.  What remains was mine before we even got together.
Clothing?  This didn't hit me until last summer.  I went on a tizzy in the closet and removed everything that I still had.  Besides - if it was six years old, it was outdated anyway!
Paperwork.  Next January I get to shred 2004.  Can't wait.

It's all of the other, intangible stuff that is hard.  I drive past a certain place, and (totally unbidden) a memory comes flooding back.  Sometimes it is there and then gone.  Other times, for whatever reason, it puts me in a complete funk.  This is why I need help.  It is not about missing him.  That was over a long time ago - before I met Dean.  It is more about the pain that is conjured up.  The giant soccer-ball-to-the-gut feeling that has never quite gone away.  The feeling that my fragile world, at any moment, will crumble apart.  If you have ever been hit with bad news that was completely unexpected, then you know what I mean.  There is a certain part of you that will always live in fear - that the horrible feeling of being blindsided will happen again.  There is also the question of forgiveness.  I have yet to forgive.  I don't know if I ever can.  I can forgive the action he took in leaving.  He knew what he wanted, and what he didn't want.  Good for him.  He just made a very poor choice in how he went about it - and that part I can't forgive.  And then, the most difficult part.  Forgetting.  There is a giant boot print on my heart.  How do you forget when someone just tosses you aside?  Somehow, you don't let yourself forget, because self-preservation gets in the way.  You say to yourself, "Always remember the pain!  Don't make the same mistake again!". 

Now we get to the good stuff.  I met with a wonderful lady in the months after the divorce.  She is the minister of the Unity Church here.  She had lived with an alcoholic husband for years before she eventually got divorced.  She knew the struggles I was having with co-dependency (he was an alcoholic).  We met countless times, to help me through my stuff.  It felt good to talk.  I read books.  I felt like I was making progress.  Months went by and I felt too lonely to let any more time go by, so I decided to do something about it.  Miraculously, within days of my joining the online dating site eHarmony, Dean's profile was sent my way.  When you consider the emotional hell I had just been through, finding Dean, meeting him, dating him and marrying him was easy.  I never questioned the process.  I never questioned if he was right for me.  I just knew.  Call it a gift from the Universe, and I was due something good for once.  We have experienced quite a bit in six years.  Coming together as a family and adding three more children.  Travel.  Funerals.  Health scares.  Job loss.  I have never been happier with who I have had by my side through it all.  The trouble is this cloud of fear and sadness that won't go away.  It permeates everything.  It taints every memory.  I live in fear that the other shoe is always hovering above me, waiting to drop.  That is no way to live - and it's not fair to those I love.

I have felt like a shell of my former self for quite some time.  I set out to reassess myself, after the divorce.  I sort of did.  I wrote a list about what I wanted.  I decided the kind of life I wanted to live, and the type of person I wanted in my life.  Most of it has happened.  I just know that something is 'off' - a piece of 'me' is still missing.

That is what the therapy is for.  It is time for outside help, and one should never be afraid to ask for it.

Time Out

I've been side-lined with a cold for over a week now.  This is my third cold this spring.  It began with serious chills, body-aches and a mild fever, so maybe it was the flu. ???  All I know is, it is still here.  Every three to four hours I am popping pills.  I switch back and forth between Tylenol and Ibuprofen to deal with a very sore throat that seems to be impervious to medication.  A dry cough persists, and a lot of gross stuff is going on in the back of my throat as well.  I am eating saltines like an addict, because it takes away the gross, mucusy-feeling for at least 10 seconds.  Lovely. 

I've never been opposed to going to a doctor.  But when you factor in four kids, the visit takes on a whole new dimension.  I feel like crap AND I've got to keep four kids in line.... no thanks.  The last visit to a Dr. (about a month ago with cold #2 - again, sore throat the major complaint) was ridiculous.  First of all, when you add up the receptionist, nurse (sometimes two), Dr. and billing person, that's four different people who will undoubtedly remind me that I "have my hands full".  THANKS.  I wasn't aware of that.  The Dr. (upon seeing that I have four kids methodically dismantling the examination room, will rush through the exam, just to get me on my way.  This last visit the Dr. filled out a prescription for a throat gargle/rinse and was done.  The lady at the pharmacy asked me why in the world he would prescribed me THAT?  "If you ingest that stuff it could cause cardiac arrest".  Nice.  Thank you Dr. who knows we have four curious children in our household!

This time around I decided to go a different route.  My throat hurt - bad.  I've had tonsillitis several times since childhood.  I've had mono.  Twice.  The pain-level was taking me down mono memory lane, and I wanted to be sure about what I was dealing with.  Long ago a friend mentioned that she took her daughter to a small clinic within a Walgreens in Loveland.  It's called Take Care Clinic and is staffed by a registered nurse.  I decided to take this option, just to see what it was like.  I like small clinics.  I like dealing only with one or two people.  I hate waiting rooms and the hoops you have to go through to get an appt. (which always seem to be during some one's nap time).  The Take Care Clinic is designed to help you through the small stuff.  Strep tests, vaccinations, minor ailments and injuries... it's an ideal place to get in and out fast.  So I went to the closest one (Loveland) and left the kids to enjoy a movie in the van (which I only ever do if Jordan is with them), and went in.  I was done 30 minutes later.  I have to say it was a very pleasant experience.  The nurse ushered me into a room right away and did a very thorough exam and performed two tests - strep and mono, right there in the room.  ( I hate it when they have to go someplace else, and leave me waiting for 15 minutes for the results...)  Both were negative, but the fact of the sore throat remained.  She prescribed an antibiotic because some sort of bacterial infection was causing the painful swelling and gave a nice, detailed printout of the diagnosis and services performed and the cost.  The total was $97, my copay was $15 and insurance will cover the rest.  I can wholeheartedly recommend taking this route for the quickie-stuff.  It's been two days and my throat still hurts, but the swelling has gone down a little, so I just have to be patient.  I also need to eat two servings of yogurt a day to counteract the antibiotic.

So, in the midst of feeling so yucky... the busy schedule of last week did not let up.  We had a lot of stuff to do!  Dean stayed home with me on Wednesday and Thursday so that I could get some rest.  On Wednesday I read The Help.  It was a novel my book club read several months ago, and I just never got to it.  Great read... I am amazed how well the (white) author wrote the voice of the African-American characters.  I loved the character of Abiliene the best.  I am intrigued at her practice of writing down her prayers for others.  Setting down intention like that, on paper, is a very powerful, if not cathartic process. Hmm.  I have to mention that all of the kids slept in that morning.  Rylan slept in the latest.  It was about 9:30 when she groggily came into our bedroom on her way to our bathroom.  She noticed me in bed reading and came over to give me a hug.  She asked me, "Is it Mother's Day again?".  Ha!  I should get sick more often...

On Thursday, a mom's night out was on the schedule.  I hemmed and hawed about going all day.  I really wanted to go.  The plan was to do a group lesson at Rocky Mountain Archery, and then go out after that for dinner or drinks or whatever...  I just wanted to do the lesson part.  I was in no shape to go out for dinner (plus share my cold with everyone else), but I figured I could at least do the lesson part.   My mom brought over a wonderful dinner for us from Young's Vietnamese, so Dean and the kids were set, so I doped myself up and went, with plenty of cough drops and hot tea to get me through.  It was very cool!  There were eleven of us in the group and we had a ball.  I'm right-handed but left eye dominant, so it was a little tricky.  My first set of three arrows (called an "end") went off in all directions, but after that they all hit the target paper.  I never did get a bulls eye, but I did come close.

 

See that arrow directly above the balloon?  It is resting on the balloon.  It took me four more 'ends' (yeah, 12 more arrows....) to finally pop that stupid balloon.

Friday night it was the dads' turn to all go out.  This was the first NCHA dad's night out.  I find that hard to believe, since quite a few of them have similar jobs/interests and all, but sadly, that is the case.  I am constantly feeling guilty that Dean rarely goes out on a night on his own.  He has a poker night that he goes to every once in a blue moon, but that is it.  I am thinking that maybe this night out will spur other plans - in addition to boy scouts and the dads going out once a month during the scout meeting.

On Saturday the stress level went into high gear.  It was time for karate testing again.  I had spent Friday on the couch, sporadically sewing star patches onto the pant legs on Rylan and Jordan's gis.  I had fallen behind, and they are a major p.i.t.a. to sew on.  First to test was Rylan.




They begin by focusing on the task at hand.




Cobra combination




Admiring her new orange belt...




Tiger class pic

 We grabbed a quick breakfast afterwards, and then it was Jordan's turn....




Focusing...




Stretch-rising kicks




"Mace of Aggression" (otherwise known as "Give me your lunch money!!!!")




Advanced yellow!  (Worn with the orange stripe on top, since that is the next belt he will be testing for)

 We were finished with testing, and walked out of the building, trying to round up kids, bags, cameras and so forth.  Then we turned around and saw this...

I've never seen her do this before...  I asked her where she got this from, and Rylan told me from a Little Bear episode.  Little Bear (Nick jr.) is her favorite cartoon.  And sure enough, the episode aired again just this Monday.  A frog sitting cross-legged on a rock, hands up in the air... "Ommmmmm"  in the middle of the stream.  Too funny!

We spent Saturday afternoon getting ready to go to Denver for a U2 concert.  I felt like I was in no shape to do this.  I had no desire to sit in the stadium, cough my head off (at the risk of gagging and puking) and just feel miserable in general.  But the tickets were a lot of money. My SIL called us up almost a year ago and asked if we wanted to go.  They had just gone on sale (since the initial concert was cancelled) and she had a great deal if we were interested.  I like planning ahead, but a year in advance leaves me nervous.  Who knows what can happen in a year's time??  And add several kids into the mix and it just becomes impossible.  I like U2, but I wouldn't say I am a huge fan.  I have hardly listened to any of their recent stuff.  But.  I LOVED Joshua Tree, and I knew it would be an amazing show.  I am sure if I were not sick, I would have been really excited to go.  Mom had agreed long-ago to watch the kids, and we ended up leaving very early as the traffic reports were getting worse by the minute.  The commute actually wasn't bad at all.  We even had extra time to stop at the store and get a snack and some drinks.  I was loaded with tea, coughdops, extra kleenex and so forth.  We parked at 23rd and Federal Blvd, along a side street.  For free.  We walked maybe 6-7 blocks to the stadium, where there was parking for $30.  Suckers.

I have never been to Invesco field before.  Mile Hi yes, Invesco, no.  We had plenty of time to walk around, and even though I was having a little difficulty breathing, the walking actually felt good.  We admired the 30+ semis in the parking lot that are said to be needed to transport the stage.  The stage (the claw-like thing) is actually one of three.  It takes 5 days to set up and 3 to tear down, so they need to rotate between the three to keep up with their concert schedule.  What an ordeal!  We finally found our way to our seats, which were club-level.  Nice!  Here was our view...



We watched as they continued to get ready for the show.  Lots of people watching.  I love that.  I don't like being in crowds, but I do like people watching.  The age demographic for this show was interesting.. lots of middle-aged couples with their teen aged kids.



Dean was so thrilled with his seat.  You can't see it, but he is actually right above a portal walkway , so he didn't have anyone sitting in front of him.  :)  Notice my glasses?  All four kids are getting over pink eye.  I just discovered the morning of the concert that I had it too.  Nice.  Something else to add to my misery.



The Fray was the opening act.  That was pretty cool - nice to have a hometown band be the opener.  They did an awesome job.  I only know a couple of their songs (which they played).  The guitarist also sang a song (no idea what it is called), and that was my favorite of their set.



Here is another shot of the stage, at sunset, after the Fray, but before U2 took the stage.  See the screen?  500,000 pixels.  They might have three stages, but there is only one screen.  It is the first thing to be packed up when the show is over.  It took 18 months to create for the production.  They showcased random factoids on the screen to entertain the audience.  The most interesting to me was the estimated amount of money spent on video games for that day.  Over $43 million.  More than education.  Disgusting.



Finally U2 took the stage.  It really was a great show, for the most part.  My major complaint is that it was too loud.  I know I sound like an old fogey when I say that, but I'm sorry... if you involuntarily physically wince every time The Edge hits a certain range of notes.. it is too loud.  Attending a concert should not be a painful experience.  The ballads were great though.  After I stuffed my ears with bits of kleenex, it was much better.  I didn't know much of the new stuff, but it still sounded great.  I was just taken with how 'big' the show was.  It was as much about the stage as it was the band.  By far the biggest production I have seen.  It was also neat to see the crowds around the stage as the lights swept over them.  Just a sea of people.  All I could think about was how much I would hate to be swept up in that, and have to go to the bathroom.

It was a great show, with great seats, but I would lying if I didn't say I was glad it was over when the lights came up.  I was tired of coughing, tired of having to strain my voice (what's left of it) just to be heard, and tired of being with so many people.

The next day, Sunday, offered a nice change of  pace.  We had planned on having Jordan's long-time friend Abbi over to play and have a little post-birthday celebration with her, since the kids couldn't get together for Jordan's birthday earlier in the month.  Dean stayed home with Owen and Colin, and I took Jordan, Abbi and Rylan to Fort Fun.  We played mini-golf...

Then on to go-karts... This was a first for both Jordan and Abbi.  They were both pretty nervous - but they did really well!  They didn't spin out or cause anyone else to.  Abbi was the cautious driver, and Jordan was a lead foot... uh-oh.  Then Rylan and I took a turn.  She was very anxious, but as soon as we began driving, she yelled the whole time... "This is actually fun!!   Woohoo!!!!"

Then the kids took a quick trip down the slide...



Add a round of laser-tag and we were done.  I was tired of coughing, and everyone was hungry, so we went home, picked up Dean and the little ones, and headed out to dinner.  We went to the Beach House Grill.  So yummy... each of the kids got a sand bucket (to keep!!)  full of goodies with their kid's meals.  They got a coloring book, crayons, AND a package of wikki stixs.  That is just plain cool.  The food was awesome - I can't wait to go back.  When I am not sick.  When I am done coughing.  Because on the way home, a stupid tickle in the back of my throat grew into a wild coughing fit, which of course triggered my gag reflex, which of course caused me to lose my entire dinner beside the road, on some poor person's front lawn.

I hate being sick.  I hate being sick.  I hate being sick.

I need a time out this week to get better.  Thankfully, our calendar is now empty for the rest of month.  Yeah!

Tip-toeing...

Spring is surely here, and I am just a-waitin' for fall!!

So if you know me personally, you know I don't like Spring.  Y'all know how much I dislike the month of April.  All the really crappy things that have occurred in life have occurred in April.  Just think about it.  Google it even - you'll see.  It's like the world goes fu*#ing crazy in April.  A lot of screwballs have resorted to some crazy sh!t to deal with their springtime cabin-fever... assault weapons, bombs, airplanes, pink slips, divorce papers....I'm sick of anniversaries, tributes, remembrances and senseless violence.  Sorry April....but I really, really don't like you.  And to think... you begin with April Fool's Day.  Bleh.

May is.....complicated.  Jordan and Rylan both celebrate birthdays in May.  Mother's Day is in May.  Great stuff happens in May.  And that is precisely the problem.  Most of the great stuff in life HAPPENS IN FREAKIN' MAY!!  Crazy-assed month...  

It's just go go go go go GO!!!! 24/7.

I need June to get here so I can recover from May.

Except that summer is my second least favorite season.  Hate the heat.



Visitors...

Dean's folks arrive today, in about four hours.

The house is not presentable.  And it smells like wet dog.

All I feel like doing is this...

Sigh...

A sink? Yes. A vacuum cleaner? No.

I was a lucky gal and got my Mother's Day gift a little early... on Easter actually.  We were all home sick with nasty head colds.  I got up early and made a wonderful Easter breakfast.  I used my late grandma Betty's tablecloth, and a beautiful set of china of hers that I inherited a few years back, when we moved her out of her home and into assisted living.  I was sad but grateful that I had some things to remember her by.  I dished up scrambled eggs, peach crisp, bacon and fresh bananas.  Four Easter baskets waited for the kids...

Jordan, Rylan and Owen got some pinwheels.  They blew on them and then erupted into long, drawn out coughing fits... it was actually pretty funny.  We were a sorry bunch.  Lots of coughing, sneezing and spewing all sorts of snot in all directions.  It was lovely.  And then we ate breakfast.  And Owen coughed so hard that he threw up his breakfast.  On the table, himself, his chair and the floor.  Perfect.

It was to be this little guy's first crack at egg hunting.  We were supposed to go down to Longmont to have Easter dinner with the family and do an egg hunt with the cousins.  Then, later in the day we were going to spend the afternoon and evening with homeschooling friends, having an egg hunt and potluck.  But.  It was not to be.  By Saturday evening I knew that it was to be a no-go.  We were not fit to be good company for anybody but ourselves...

So what to do?  Saturday evening we made a preemptive move and prepared for the next day where we now had nothing planned, besides eating copious amounts of chocolate.  We went to Home Depot!

This was the kitchen sink.  The sink itself is as it was when I purchased the house eight years ago.  Shallow bowls meant that it could not hold much - and splashing all over the counter was a common occurrence.  The faucet was installed (pre-Dean) by a handyman at my church, about six years ago.  Around the end of last year, the entire faucet assembly started rocking back and forth.  You would use either handle and the whole thing would move back and forth.  Dean got underneath the sink and looked at it from below.  The bolts were rusting through.  Evidently some sealant that should have been used during installation wasn't.  Dean fashioned a quick fix by installing a wooden brace that held the assembly down tight, but it was only a fix.  I was now in the mood to replace the entire thing...sink and all.  I wanted something nice, something bigger.  I hate the look of stainless steel sinks - they show every scratch and dent.  I picked out what I wanted.  I visited my new sink, on display at Home Depot, every few weeks.  I even took pictures with my phone, so I could look at it from time to time... sigh.  I wanted a new sink!!!

Look, ma!  No plumber's crack!

So I got my wish!!  Lots of helpers to get the project started.  First everything was disconnected and the non-working dishwasher was removed.  Pipes were sawn away, and lovely, greasy sludge in the pipes was admired and discussed.  I spared you the pictures.  Again, you're welcome.

Goodbye sink!

Nothing says yummy like washing dishes in the bathroom sink.

 
So while Dean slaved away, I wiped noses and hid eggs for each child to find.  Colin had one blue egg to find.  Owen had three green eggs.  Rylan had four purple eggs.  Jordan had ten orange and yellow eggs.  When they found all of their (empty) eggs, they turned them in and got their Easter gift.

Colin can now impersonate Sid the Science Kid

Owen got a 4-pack of Cars characters

Rylan got a Jasmine doll

You guessed it.... Legos.

We ended the day with the sink replacement job almost finished.  The new sink is a 3/4 sink so the hoses were not quite long enough to attach to the water supply.  And Home Depot is not open at 1:15 am.  So the sink was finished the next day.

We left this cast of characters in charge for the night...

Dean took the van to work the next day, and then stopped at Home Depot after work.  Then he finished the job in very short order.  I didn't take a picture of the new sink until Wednesday though.

Voila!

We spent Tuesday in Wray, visiting with family and attending my grandmother's funeral.  I brought back some of the flowers that were delivered from family and friends for the service.  The two flower bouquets in the center were just beautiful.  The Peace Lily on the left was the one we ordered for the service.  The Peace Lily on the right, in the ceramic pot, is from Dean's grandmother's funeral service that we attended in January.  I also have another Peace Lily that was from my grandpa Orin's funeral service in 1997.  I think the Peace Lily has taken on new meaning in our household.  (Universe?  No more Peace Lilies for a while, okay?)

So I am loving my kitchen sink!  My original request for a Mother's Day gift was a birdbath.  But then I changed my mind and figured that a new sink (and a new dishwasher!!) was the way to go.  Dean was able to install the dishwasher on Wednesday afternoon, after we picked it up from Sears.  I imagine that some moms would be insulted by something so utilitarian - but I LOVE it.  And I love that my husband was able to do all the work himself..what a gift!!  Love ya honey!  And I also have my dear grandmother to thank.  She made this wonderful gift possible.  It has given me loads of time back that I otherwise spent washing dishes by hand, and that means all the world to me and my family.