frazzled & frumpy

What's your sign? I've never been big on my horoscope or the zodiac.  I always felt they were fairly general, that they could apply to anyone.  Since I needed a Z post, I thought I'd write some of my own. Taurus-   (Apr. 20-May 20)- Some would tell you the sign of the bull is strength. nah. It's stubbornness.  Always have to have your way. Sheesh. Let someone else be right now and then. Gemini-  (May 21-June20)- Twins! Are you a twin? No? Well that means you probably absorbed your twin in utero. You do best having someone with you at all times. You hate being alone. Multiple personalities are very common with these Gemini's. Probably your weird absorbed twin trying to get out. Cancer-  (June 21-July22)- Your sign is a crab. Fitting, yes? Remember how crabby you got just yesterday? Try to smile more. Reign in those pinchers. Leo-  (July 23-Aug. 22)- Ooh, you're a lion. Think you're cool, huh? If you're a female, good for you. It's the f

As you know, I spent two days at a women's conference.  One of the hardest parts was trying to decide which classes to attend.  I went to classes on being patient with yourself, arming your home and family, and choosing laughter.  I learned so much and was inspired by the things I heard. What is interesting, though, is that if you asked me what had the largest impact, I would have to say it wasn't a talk. One of the classes I looked forward to most was given by a man named Brad Wilcox . I had heard Brother Wilcox speak before and knew that he is an engaging and spiritual presenter. We went to his class where he spoke about names and the power they hold. I loved it. But, what I learned from him happened after he spoke.  We had thirty minutes until the closing session and as I sat waiting, I watched him. He's very well-known and popular.  People like that attract other people.  He walked the floor, being stopped several times.  I wasn't close enough to hear wh

I'm home from my girl's weekend. It was wonderful and I'm having a hard time putting my mind back in 'mommy mode'.  I'll share more about it tomorrow. For now, here are some pictures. The Marriot Center- lots of estrogen! The Y mountain. Celebrating Sarah's birthday. (Notice the princess crown.) Marriot Center, day two. Sisters. Me, Heidi, Sarah, Ellen. Gorgeous, yes? (This one is for you, Larissa.) Long lines for the more popular talks. We had such beautiful weather!

I’m sitting in my sister, Ellen’s, kitchen, watching her bustle around cooking wonderful food.  Sarah and I ‘help’-- she cuts berries and I make guacamole.  We talk and laugh as we wait for Heidi, the fourth member of our quartet, to arrive.  These scenes remind me of when I was a girl.  I would watch my mother and her sisters.  I was fascinated by their relationship, the comfortable way they had.  I didn’t understand what it was, but it was something . Their faces lit up, they laughed at secret jokes and spoke of womanly things.  I wanted to be around them, to feel the overflow of what they shared.  I would sit at the edge of their circle, trying to absorb it. I understood it better as I grew.  I found myself drawn to the company of other women.  Being in a group of females made me happy. It gave me a surge of strength that lasted long after.  We women have a bond that is unique and sometimes indescribable.  Spirit to spirit, heart to heart, we are bound to each other. 

Years ago, the Handy Man and I were living with his brother (and wife).  I didn't get along with my sister-in-law, 'Lisa',  and was completely overwhelmed by the situation.  I had two young children and was basically living in a bedroom.  My sister-in-law was pregnant and having complications. Not that I was unfeeling, but everywhere I went, I was asked over and over how she was doing.  One Sunday, after being bombarded by questions and having to relate all the well-wishes to Lisa, I'd had enough.  I was at my mom's, trying to escape for a little while, when I got a phone call.  It was a friend from church.  I fully expected her to ask about Lisa.  She didn't. She asked me how I was doing. She expressed her love and concern for me, assuring me that she was there for me if I needed anything. She didn't mention Lisa once.   I hung up the phone and cried. Where am I going with this, you ask?  One of the sweetest bloggers in our little world has been havin

Feeling lousy. I'm taking two ibuprofen and will be back in the morning.

This week's GBE prompt is "Take Two: A Fresh Look", where we are asked to post something from the past. This post originally appeared on  May 6, 2010. You Have How Many Kids? It seems whenever I run into someone I haven't seen in a while, the conversation always goes the same. "How are you?" "I'm fine." (I don't like that response and have made a goal to say something else, like 'fabulous') "So, how many kids do you have?" "Seven." "Oh. My. Gosh. I can't believe you have seven kids!" "Yeah, some days I can't believe it either." It's not like you start out your family thinking about the end result, anyway I didn't. We always said we wanted six kids, but did we consider the logistics? Nah. We just really wanted a baby. So, we did. And he looked like this- He's cute and sweet and you love him soooooo much. So, what do you do? Yep, you have another one. A

Today's post is an interactive one.  Because I know my readers are smart and witty. So here it is, a six-word autobiography.  Tell me about your life in one sentence. Here's a few I've written- Eight kids, one husband, no time. Eat, sleep, nurture, write, write, write. Gather, wash, dry, fold, repeat daily. So, here's the challenge. Write a six-word autobiography of your own. Either leave it in the comments on my blog, or post it on yours and let me know.  I'm looking forward to reading what you come up with. Remember a few weeks ago, when I posted about Sadie being asked to prom? Tonight is the night. She's off on her first date.  Here's a couple pictures, and my last six words- I'm not old enough for this.

(Okay, the title for this is kind of dumb. I didn't get this post written yesterday, my sister's actual birthday, so I wrote it today. Then, I couldn't think of a title that started with today's letter- R. Sorry, sis.) (And, yes, I realize that tomorrow's letter-S- would've been perfect,  "Sister Sarah, Simply Sarah, Sarah the Statuesque"... But, I already have a post for tomorrow, so today it is.) She began for me as an idea, when my mother told us she was pregnant. My teenage brain had no clue what this meant for my parents. Though, they never expressed anything other joy about her.  The next few months were tumultuous, as my father lost his job and we moved into a tiny, basement house.  I still don't know how they did it. I don't remember much about the beginning of the day we met. I was 15 and it was spring. The trees were budding new green and tractors were surely turning soil in anticipation of the planting to come. These details

I know spring is supposed to already be here. But, where I live, winter is reluctant to let go.  Winter is sort of like a pregnancy, you know it can't last forever, but you start to feel like it'll never end. Those aren't my tulips in the picture. (morguefile.com)  My tulips are just now getting buds. They make me hopeful, though. And that's what spring is all about. In Search of Spring The snow sheathed earth Thirsts for sunshine, Fertile flowers wait Impatiently, Longing for their breathless Debut. Bursts of color anticipate their Welcome Of the change of season. And, I.. I wait. Watching for any sign That the long, cold, Dark winter Has finally given up the ghost, That spring, Splendid spring, With it’s life and Endless promise, Is assuredly, undoubtedly, Here. -Jewels

(Photo from photobucket.com-sonofj) Feeling kind of ornery today. Maybe it's the rain. I don't mind having some rain. And, I love that my crappy back lawn is looking green. But, when you're sending kids off to the bus in the morning, it's hard to make them walk in the drizzle. So, I drive them.  In my pj's, socks, no make-up and bedhead.  I pray that I don't see any adults on my way.  I also don't like the grayness. I need some sunshine. Perhaps it's the fact that Noah is standing by me, his chin on my knee, saying, "Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom." "What?!?!" "Can I go to Lindsey's?" "No." "Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom."  We have this conversation over and over.  I think I need to make Lindsey's mom some banana bread to apologize for the fact that my son shows up at her house a dozen times a day. The fact that my house smelled rancid this morning is part of the problem. I got up and immediately wrin

I'm NOT patient. Especially when it comes to waiting for answers, or food. Or when I'm putting my 8 year-old to bed. I'm NOT young. I used to be, a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. I'm NOT internet savvy.  I blog and comment on blogs. Get more technological and I'm lost. (Like my 'like' button for facebook. I had the wrong kind on here for a long time. I don't know what people were 'liking'. Maybe that day's post, or just facebook in general. It took me weeks to figure out how to get that facepile on there. If you want to make my day, you could move your little mouse over and click on it. Wouldn't you like to have your face on that pile?) I'm NOT political. I vote, but I really hate presidential election years. Not because I don't like the democratic process. I just hate all the mud-slinging and the constant ads. I'll be much happier on November 7th. I'm NOT handy.  I can't fix drains or cars or applia

First, I have to thank everyone who left me a comment on yesterday's post.  Your encouragement and faith in me means so much. You might think it's just a comment, but believe me, it isn't.  Your support is what keeps me going and makes me believe in myself. So,  Thank You!   Consider this your virtual flowers and chocolates that I'd send to each of you, if I could. It's National Poetry Month. I haven't written poetry in a long time. But, it's where my roots in writing lie.  So, I decided to try and write something.  I didn't start out with the idea of  bullying, but that's where it went.  I wouldn't say I was bullied as a child, but I was teased for various reasons. I remember the ache of wanting to fit in and knowing I didn't.  This isn't a happy poem and for that, I apologize. Maybe next time. Maybe She walks the halls, feet heavy. Her hand-me-down shoes show wear. Fingers worry the hem of her shirt, Eyes down,

Laughing through the tears? No. I didn't win the contest, but it's all good. (The contest winner got her query letter and 10 pages of her novel sent to the contest blog owner's agents. This is a big deal, getting a book agent to read your stuff.)  It's weird, I thought I'd be more upset. I'm actually grateful for the contest because it pushed me to get my query letter ready and my book edited. So, today, I'll be making a list of agents to query.  My agent is out there. Somewhere. Happy Friday, everyone!

Our first ones are chaste and innocent.  A mother's lips, soft and warm, welcoming us into the world.  A thousand words are spoken in those moments as she presses kisses to her newborn's face.  Relief, happiness, love, possession, all wrapped up in the gentle endearment. Giggles accompany the butterfly kind.  Eyelashes lightly brushing against cheek.  Little girls flittering their adoration on fathers.  Hoping for a tickling return before being tucked safely in. Then, there's the magic of the first kiss.  Whether in a school, behind a tree, or in a car as you say good night. The butterflies do a furious dance of anticipation.  You lean in, hopeful, anxious, unsure.  Lips touch in sweet discovery and life is never quite the same again. Married kisses are as varied as the seasons.  Warm and inviting as you reunite at the end of a day. Supportive during hard times.  Expressing passion that comes from commitment and loyalty.  They become familiar, comfortable, like a b

"Don't get your hopes up." "Not everyone can win." "It's great that you tried." My first year at college, I knew what I wanted to be. A Vikadette.  That was the name of the drill team at Ricks College where I attended.  I'd seen them perform when I was a Stingerette on our high school squad.  I loved the way they looked in their sequined costumes.  They all had big hair and oodles of  maturity.  They were fabulous. When I told my roomates I was trying out, they gave me funny looks. 'Really?' 'Oh, yes.' Okay, they shrugged.  We didn't know each other well enough yet for them to care.  What their doubt was trying to tell me is that in the years since I'd seen the college team, things had gone a bit downhill.  They were sort of the laughing stock of the college. But, off I went to the audition.  I learned the required routine and performed it fairly flawlessly.  When the names were read, mine wasn't among them

So last week was spring break. No break for me. Houseful of kids.  Of course, there are those people who get to do fun things during the kids week off. A couple friends took their families to southern Utah, and some went to California. Then, I found out that a family I know went to Hawaii. Hawaii? You know, that's not so great. I hear Hawaii is highly overrated. Palm trees and beaches. Whatever. I mean, we're cool, too. We did lots of fun things during our week. I loved it. I wish it had lasted longer.  Yeah, like a whole other week, cuz, you wouldn't believe what we did. My kids played video games...I mean, they played in a video game tournament. Yeah. And they won. And it was just the state level and now we get to go to nationals. Yeah. That's it. And, we watched TV, uh, no, we were on TV. Yeah. They were filming High School Musical- the Ten Year Reunion and we were, you know, extras. We danced and... we sang. I'm a really good singer, Zac Ephron said so.

The Handy Man's parents still live in the house they bought when he was in kindergarten. Each room holds memories for him. The basement where he helped paint his mother's freezer.  The backyard is where he played and ran from the torments of his older brothers. He can name the families that live in the houses up and down the street.  If we went to church with my in-laws, there would be many worshipers who could tell me stories about my husband and his childhood antics. They'd smile and resist the urge to pinch his cheeks.  My family moved a lot when I was growing up. A lot. There were two very long trips between Idaho and Arizona that I remember well. Laying in the  way-back of our green station wagon, watching the sky fly by at a brisk 75 mph.  Mom packed lunches and wet washcloths in plastic bags for the long journey.  Stops at the rest area were mini adventures where we were left to explore the rocks and cactus. The house where we lived during my junior and

My girls hid about 70 eggs on Saturday. I think we found 60. I'm hoping those last ten are the plastic kind.  The last thing I need is a rotting egg hidden in a couch or a corner somewhere. In a house with so many kids, the gross factor can get out of hand. It doesn't help that I'm a lousy housekeeper.  It also doesn't help that boys under the age of, oh, 20, can't seem to hit a target that's as big as a toilet seat. No, wait, they can hit the seat, just not the hole in the middle of it. I swore to them last week that I was never buying crackers again. It doesn't matter how many times I tell them, the Cheezits always end up in a heap on the family room floor.  I need to train the dog to eat Cheezits. I don't know why he doesn't.  He'll eat some really disgusting stuff. And we won't mention some of the things he licks. We were sitting tonight and watching Amazing Race.  I was cheering for the border patrol guys when I got a whiff. Oh

Here's what we did today-

e-the-re-al: delicate; heavenly There was a moment when I was a very young mother. I was sitting on our long couch, my newborn son in my arms as my oldest toddled over my legs, begging for the attention he’d so recently lost.  As I sat there, I got a flash, a picture, a vision perhaps. It was of me surrounded by boys.  This knowledge didn’t upset me, on the contrary it was comforting.  I saw what my future held and knew that this is what I would do. Eighteen months later, I lay on a bed in the doctor’s office, a paper sheet crinkling with each movement of my rapidly growing body.  The room was dim and the tech moved her magic wand over my slick and slimy belly. She pointed out fingers and toes and I watched the little heart as it fluttered.  “Do you want to know the sex?” she asked.  Sure, though I thought I already knew.  Then she said the words that would change my life in so many ways. “It’s a girl.” Four months after that, we were in another sterile room.  The whump