real quick

I couldn't leave my blog for the weekend knowing that my 'crazy Laura' post would be the first thing anyone saw (i DID include the part about not thinking rationally, right? that would explain that post) so I decided that I'd better do something about it.

Instead, here is a little of what I do best... post pictures of cute kids.

Ben and Davie came over to play/sleep/dance on the table/rescue other children from their rooms during nap time/eat popsicles/pour the cat food into the water this afternoon and I took the opportunity to break out the camera and document their cuteness (since their mom sucks at it).



Ben was VERY hard at work. Check out that determination.



Ok, so if you haven't been around Davie in a while, you really need to pencil that it. He pretty much spends his days playing on the floor, smiling and laughing at any feasible opportunity.



Our peach tree is overloaded this year with peaches (as opposed to like pineapples or almonds) The branches are literally touching the ground. Ben kept asking if he could "pull an apple" so we picked quite a few today, but I'm not sure how we'll ever get through them all. If you want some, head on over to our house and help yourself.

And these are courtesy of Jane...



Charlie Two Teeth in his oh so classy wife beater.



I was kind of bombarded with kids today and finally just started crawling on the ground to play too. If you can't beat em', join em', right?

TMI (and no photo to soften the blow)

Last night, I laid awake in bed for several hours before I was finally able to fall asleep. My eyes were furious with me, but my mind and body seemed determined race and toss and turn and itch and twitch. I thought that I would wake up this morning and want to crawl under a rock, but I had no problem waking up at all... at 5:30. It seems as though the obnoxious energy that kept me awake last night hasn't given up on me yet. Since then, I've been racing around the house, thrilled that I FINALLY have the energy to do the simple things that seem impossible every other day. Things like putting away laundry, sweeping the floor, helping the kids clean their rooms and thinking about what I'd like to accomplish during the day. Then I realized why I must be feeling this way.

Crap. I must be manic again.

For those of you who were previously unaware, I studied psychology in school and as a result, I find myself in the annoying position of knowing just enough about the subject to be dangerous ( i say that a lot, get used to it). I've diagnosed myself with (usually high functioning) bipolar disorder. The up side of it is that every so often, I find myself in these moods that I can only describe as ecstasy. Sounds dramatic, but so am I. I tell you, if the drug makes you feel anything like the real thing, I can understand why people like it. I have a million things that I want to do and I can do them all, I WILL do them all, if I let myself. Nothing can put me in a bad mood. I remember on my 20th birthday, I totalled my car and dealt with it surprisingly well. It really didn't get to me at all and my friends were amazed with my good attitude. I realize now that I must have been manic at the time.

The downside is that my thinking isn't rational, I spend money without thinking about it, my heart races and I move very quickly, often jittery, I also speak quickly. I can't concentrate on any one thing for very long and I find that I don't have much patience for people who aren't moving at my speed. This morning I was thinking about training for a marathon, which seemed TOTALLY do-able. I was going to start tomorrow. I think that in a few days, it'll loose it's appeal.

And then there's always the mania's evil twin, the life sucking, mind numbing, physically and emotionally crippling depression that tails the manic episodes. It's always there too, lurking in the dark corners of my mind, waiting for a moment of weakness to attack. What goes up, must come down and when I'm feeling so good, I forget to keep up my guard. That's it's game, you know. Attack and retreat, attack and retreat, trying to wear down my resistance. Some day I'll conquer it once and for all. I'll lock it and the mania up in that dark corner and throw away the key. The freedom I'd have seems unimaginable. (wow, i almost succeeded in bumming myself out)

Maybe someday I'll write about that too, it'll be fun.

I am stubborn and unreasonable, and as a result, I refuse to see anyone that might be able to actually diagnose me and prescribe me with meds that could potentially provide some much needed stability. Instead, I try to fight against it with exercise, scripture study and sheer will power. I've got a lot of will power, when I want to and even though this mood always feels great, I recognize that it isn't healthy and I need to do something about it. Usually, when I get like this, I try to force myself to sit, move slower, talk slower, breathe deep, listen to calming music and shorten my list of things to do that day to a reasonable length. But I'm planning a weekend excursion that we leave on tomorrow and still have million things to do. I also have to go get some new running shoes (i'm training for a marathon, remember?) So today, I'm thinking I'm just going to go with it.

Have a great day. I will.

(imagine photos of me having a great day. maybe i'll post some tonight)

Two of my Favorite Faces

I've been spending a lot of time thinking (and talking) about Brent and Lizzy's relationship lately. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I don't 'get' Lizzy. But Brent does. I just sit here, clueless, unable to figure out why she does the things she does.

For instance, I have no idea why she stayed up last night in her room climbing up to the shelves to retrieve a vat of newly purchased Cetaphil cream and unloading it's contents onto her carpet. The Butt Paste was sitting right next to it, sealed tightly . Earlier this week, she pulled the same stunt with the Butt Paste... again. See HERE for photos of what all the events have looked like. After a long talkin' to, she promised she wouldn't do that again and, like Brent, she really likes rules so I wasn't worried about another recurrence. Unfortunately, like Brent, she also likes things to be specific and literal and after all, she didn't promise not to spread Cetaphil cream all over the carpet, just Butt Paste.

I also have no idea why she stripped naked, removing even her diaper, then put her pajamas BACK on (minus the diaper, remember) and then proceeded to layer 4 shirts and a pair of shorts over said pajamas.

I have no idea why she insists on wearing socks on her hands and feet while she sleeps.

I have no idea why she took all the bedding off of her bed and slept on the rug last night. None of this makes sense to me. I might have to consult Brent when he gets home.

When Jane used to scream until the blood vessels in her eyes would burst instead of going to bed, it was a little freaky, but I totally understood THAT. I'm sure I've done it several times myself. I also totally get it when she works herself up crying so much that she can't stop and throws fits until she starts gagging and tries throw up. These things make total sense to me.

But I digress...

I think that Brent really likes having a child that he relates to so much. (did he ever do this stuff as a small child?) There's something so satisfying and rewarding to see that regardless of how hard it's been in life trying to fit in or how weird people can make you feel, you know that God must have made you that way, because there's two of you. I feel that way about Jane. She validates me. Problem with our relationship is that we're both so combative that we don't enjoy each other as much as Brent and Lizzy do.

There are so many cases when I just have to walk away from Lizzy and send Brent in for a shift because I don't know how to make her happy or calm her down. Brent always knows how. He just knows how important it is to point out the temple on hill before bed. He reads her just the right stories lingering on the right details and tickles her back in just the right way. It is the sweetest thing I've ever seen.

I've worried about my inability to relate to my daughter, thinking that I won't be able to love her as much as I should and parent the right way for lack of understanding. But I'm starting to get over that because there are two of us, thank goodness. I think part of me loves her because I don't 'get' her, not in spite of it. After all, I don't really 'get' Brent either. I'm glad they have each other.

I have arrived

Pardon me for a moment as I get all sentimental on you...

Today, Jane started another year of dance. As a result, I suddenly find myself thrown into the middle of an existential crisis. Ya, I know what you are thinking.

"Get a grip, Laura. How could Jane's first day of dance possibly throw you into an existential crisis? Shouldn't you wait until next week, when she starts kindergarten, for this?"

Were you here, I would respond by smiling politely and probably laughing a little. But behind my kind eyes, I would be thinking about how cruel and insensitive you are and most likely tempted to give you swift kick in the pants. Then I would force you to listen to me while I justify myself.

You see, today, I realized that I've reached "that" point as a parent. The point at which I sign Jane up for a tumbling class at a time that's inconvenient for me just because I want her to have the exposure to it. The point at which I sign her up for yet another ballet class because I think the structure and training will be good for her. I'm having to work out a tighter budget to afford the classes for her, arrange carpools and reschedule dinner time around HER schedule.

Remind me, when did I start letting my child run across the street and knock on the neighbors' doors to play? When did my work as a parent start revolving so much less around keeping her from falling down stairs and showing her how to brush her teeth and so much more around answering those hard, uncomfortable questions and teaching her about modesty and honesty and friendship? This must be when the tough part of parenting begins.

While Jane was gone today, I found myself without my helper, my partner at home and much to my surprise and delight, I found that Lizzy was ready and willing to fill her shoes. She was eager to help Charlie sit down after he got stuck standing at the TV cabinet and fish random objects out of his mouth. I had flashbacks to when Jane was about her age and I counted on her to help me with babies Lizzy and Ben as I took care of both of them during the day. It wasn't THAT long ago, was it?

There's a whole new stage of life waiting for me. A stage that involves homework and fights with friends and lip gloss and High School Musical. Until today, I guess I just didn't realize that I'd arrived at that stage.

I am currently in the process of freaking out.

Do me a favor...

If you happen to run across my husband today, tell him that there's something about him that looks different. A little wiser, a little more mature, maybe a little older, almost as though he's suddenly reached his prime.



And then wish him a happy 33rd birthday.

Kids with a camera

And this is what happens when Jane gets a hold of the camera...







Generally, I'm not a big supporter of arranged marriages, but I'd be willing to make an exception if it meant that I could guarantee that Jane would marry Eli. He's about the cutest, sweetest guy around. And he only sticks his tongue out for silly photos. And his brothers are just as darling. And his parents are wicked cool. Ya, I'd totally sign Jane up.

Our bounteous bounty

At the beginning of the summer, we (and by "we" I mean "not me") spent a lot of time clearing out the weed patch that appeared to have once been a garden in our back yard. We (and this time I was involved) then planted green bean seeds and carrot seeds and several tomato and pepper plants. We planted watermelon and cantaloupe and pumpkin plants, all of us anxious to watch them grow and reap the rewards of our hard labor.

Unfortunately, our garden appeared to have been a complete failure. I figure it is partly due to the fact that our sprinklers are so crappy and it didn't get enough water and partly because I have no idea what I'm doing. Mostly the latter. Ok, fine, entirely the latter. Our cantaloupe and watermelon completely shriveled up into oblivion and the pumpkins aren't doing so hot either. Out of about a million green bean seeds, only 3 or 4 plants started to grow and the carrots looked a lot more like grass than anything else. Please don't make me talk about the tomatoes and peppers.

I wrote the garden off as experience and assured myself that we would do better next year.

Today I was outside enjoying the glorious day and while down in the grass, I noticed something red over in the garden. I walked over and. to my surprise, found a lone tomato. While I was over there, I thought I'd grab onto one of the carrots and pull. At the end of it was a tiny, bright orange baby carrot staring back at me. I moved to the green beans where I found that our three or four plants had actually produced real life green beans.

It was awesome.

I almost woke Jane up from a much needed nap to come see, but I didn't. Fortunately for me, she was up within about 15 minutes and the two of us had a grand time picking all the baby carrots, green beans, the tomato that I saved for her to pick and a tiny yellow bell pepper.

Wanna see? I thought you might.







So what did we do with our meager crop? We ate it. The whole lot all in one delicious home grown meal.



Blurry food. Mmmmmm.

Better luck next year? Let's hope.