The Charm

Jay graduated law school in May of '06 and has consistently been searching and applying for jobs. Last fall we were offered a position in Phoenix, which we now think, in hindsight, we maybe should have accepted, maybe. But it's sooo far away...

In late July, Jay flew to MCG for an on-campus interview. Out of 200+ applicants, 10+ phone interviews, he was one of 3 in-person interviews. He thought it looked good, we were excited and tentatively looking online at Augusta. The VP for Legal Services (head attorney for the school, he would've been Jay's boss) said it all looked good but he'd let us know for sure in late July. MCG had a new president and he was doing an evaluation of all senior staff and the VP wanted to wait until the dust settled before hiring someone. So we wait for the last week of July, then the first week of August, then the second week... After waiting six weeks, I nagged Jay into sending an e-mail: we're looking at other opportunities, need to make plans, etc. So the VP calls Jay and says basically that during the evaluative process, they decided to eliminate the position Jay interviewed for, all due to budget cuts. What? It took 6 weeks to let us know? So disappointed.

Now what?

In the meantime, Jay applied for a job in August, had a phone interview in mid-September and they flew him out the next week (September 16-17) for an on-campus interview. During the phone interview, someone said, "Wow, you sound perfect for this job." But Tampa, what? Do we really want to be in Tampa? So he went down for the interview, they quickly started to referring to the job as Jay's and saying, "Well, we can have Jay do this or that, etc." And before he even left town, the senior attorney told him to keep the first week of November open for some big conference in DC. Holy Mole! Tampa!

And it's all happened so fast since then. Six days after he got home, we got the offer and accepted it the next day. I broke the news to my mom (seriously bawling over the phone; I never want to do that again.) and Jay broke it to his parents. We've been looking around online and ramped up our efforts to finish the work we've planned on this house. (Anyone want to buy a nice 4 bedroom, 2 bath cap cod in northern Kentucky? We've renovated both bathroom and it's got a new roof and paint throughout! No? Okay.)

So the plan, for right now, is for Jay to head down to start work November 8th, come back for Turkey Day. I'll keep the home fires burning, supervise the movers sometime during the week of Turkey Day and then we head back down with Jay the 29th, ready to sink our toes in the sand and avoid the snow and cold.

We got few visitors here in Northern KY; I expect we'll get a lot more visits from friends and family in Tampa. :)

Bunny Magic

Since Easter this year was the same Sunday as General Conference and we stay home to listen to/watch/snooze through it online, there really wasn't a Sunday for the monkeys to wear their Easter garb. I dressed the boys in their shirts the Sunday before Easter but was too lazy to iron Merritt's dress that day so she wore her dress the Sunday after Easter. (Thanks, Mom, for ironing that horrible beast!) I was determined to take pictures since I don't know if Merritt will ever wear the dress again--it's the wrinkle monster from heck. The boys aren't in their official Easter shirts, but it's really all about the pretty dresses anyway, right? And this is as good as it got of Boy #2--he's definitely two.

Now I'm not a horrible mom--I do document some of the events in my monkeys' lives.

See, I Did Get Something Done Today

I totally stole this poem from a blog I stalk (one of the many.) It makes me feel validated for having a crumb-filled, smudge-smeared, dusty home. It all works out in the end, right?

What Did I Do Today?

Today I left some dishes dirty
The bed got made around 3:30
The diapers soaked a little longer,
The odor grew a little stronger.
The crumbs I spilled the day before
Are staring at me from the floor.
The fingerprints there on the wall
will likely be there still next fall.
The dirty streaks on those windowpanes
will still be there next time it rains.
Shame on you, you sit and say,
Just what did you do today?
I held a baby till he slept,
I held a toddler while he wept.
I played a game of hide and seek,
I squeezed a toy so it would squeak.
I pulled a wagon, sang a song,
Taught a child right from wrong.
What did I do this whole day through?
Not much that shows, I guess that's true.
Unless you think that what I've done
Might be important to someone
with dark brown eyes and soft brown hair.
If that is true... I've done my share.

On Second Oink

No, I did not subject the entire world to my ill children this weekend. We missed the Primary Program anyway and just hung out at home. Parker is at school today, though; it was his field trip to the pumpkin farm. And HRH Merr WILL be going to school tomorrow. I don't know what I'm going to do with her...

Watch this:

Eight

More gray, less hair.
More weight, less perkiness.
More wrinkles, less tone.
More memories, less memory.
More responsibilities, less money.
More frustrations (3 in particular), more rewards (eternal).
More joys, more tough times, more sorrows, many more laughs.

July 14, 2001

More and less, I love you, Jay. I was lucky enough to find my best friend, catch him and keep him. I'm so happy I'm on this journey with you. Happy Anniversary (+1 day). I love you.

And the picture was actually taken July 21st at our reception in Lexington, but you get the idea. And I look good in this one, so it's the one I'm using. And FYI, I really wish I still had that body--I look like a super-sized version today. Kids: they ruin your body, your mind, your home and your checkbook. But they're worth it, I guess, most of the time.

Happy Easter!

My Life

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he’s been robbed. The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are often more dull than otherwise. Life is like an old-time rail journey…delays, side tracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas, and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride." –President Gordon B. Hinckley quoting Jenkins Lloyd Jones, "Big Rock Candy Mountains", Deseret News, 12 June 1973, A4

Thank you, Lord, for letting me have my ride.

A Good Day

Shopping with a good friend,
Lunch at a favorite spot,
Beautiful 72 degree weather,
Sunny skies,
Joyful offspring,
A nap,
Yard play with kiddies in the sun,
Chocolate chip pancakes for dinnner,
Batheing my babes--all in the tub together,
Snuggles, giggles, big hugs and slobbery kisses.

I want to take a deep breath, drink it all in and keep it close. Wishing to stop time's march won't keep them small forever, but I'll keep wishing all the same.

Priorities

Read this family's story.

And shame on me for ever complaining about my kids bugging me.

Jets from Heaven

Parker: "Mom, I think it's almost time for Bowen to come back."

Me: "Why do you say that?"

Parker: "Cause Grayson and Sterling came back and so Bowen will be coming back soon."

Me: "But Parker, Grayson and Sterling were only in China and Bowen's in heaven. It's not just a quick plane ride from heaven to come back."

Parker: "Yeah, but Grayson and Sterling are back and I think Bowen's coming back soon, too."

I wish my faith was as simple and pure as Parker's. I'm hoping it'll be soon, too.

Mine for '09

Savor.

Bah Humbug

So here's my Weekend Update, except it's not really the weekend and it's more of a random list from my noggin'.

1. All 3 monkeys are on antibiotics. The older two for no real reason (wack-o doctor) and Spencer for his third ear infection in his right ear. Poor guy.

2. At above doctor's visit, she found a tick in Parker's ear. Well, not really a tick but some other dead bug. A few months ago we'd been at Michael's and he'd started whining and fussing--not new--and slapping his ear--new. Said there was a bug in there scratching. I didn't see anything so I just dribbled some water in there and called it a day. Guess there really was a bug in his ear. So Jay took him to an ENT to get it out with some special thing-a-ma-jig and Parker's so proud of his jar with the dead bug that was in his ear for a month or more. I'm such a good mom!

3. Merritt's potty train still hasn't left the station! I thought I'd try the brilliant idea of throwing a toy in the "trash" every time she peeped (Parker's logical word, since we say pooPed, too) or pooped in her diaper/pull-up/whatever. She has clearly won this war since it became a game for her. Periodically throughout the day she'll casually bring me a toy to put in the "trash" and then continue on her merry way.

4. How come blog surfing (aka finding blogs of random people you knew way, way back linked on other people's blog and you just HAVE to read every single one of their posts to see if their kids are as cute as yours or if they've gained as much weight as you) can literally suck up your whole day? I mean, I'm just innocently clicky clicking and my raving beasts are either gnawing on my limbs or beating each other over a red crayon. Give me my comatose-blog/Internet-addiction time, people!

5. Why must I include my offspring in my yearly Christmas traditions? I'm trying diligently to start and keep a little advent thing going so Parker and Merr will stop thinking that Christmas is about Santa coming and bringing you everything your greedy heart desires. Each night I read a story from an advent book Jessica (my much older sister) made me years ago (skip the song; takes too long), read a story from the basket of Christmas storybooks (put away every January so they don't get sick of the books throughout the year) and then read a scripture and put a piece of our foam nativity scene together. During this time, meant to be warm and loving, kindling true feelings of the Savior in our hearts, Spencer's either fussing or yacking, Merritt and Parker are fighting over who gets to put on the foam piece and who gets to pick the book and who gets to sit on which side of me. Do you realize how peaceful, quiet (alright, and boring and pointless) it would be if my monkeys were put in bed first? It's the season of peace and love for your fellowman, so hug your brother/sister or you're in trouble!

6. Lastly, why must my children put on their best brat personas every year at this time? They know they're supposed to be good for goodness sake, but who cares? Santa comes anyway and I want this and this and this and gimme gimme and waaaa! I wish I had a nickle for every time Parker says "I wish I didn't have such a mean mommy." or "I want a new mommy." Truly warms my heart.

And since my adoring fans are clamoring for a glimpse of my new looks, I'll post a photo just as soon as we get them from the photographer. Taking pictures with your kids, now that's a post for another time. Thank goodness it's only once a year.

December 22, 2005

Jeri tagged me to upload the 4th picture in my 4th folder & chat about it. Well, it was just a photo of the leather chair Jay surprised me with for Christmas--beautiful chair but a bit boring for Blogville. Instead, I'm showing the 4th photo in the 5th folder--Dad and Merritt. Wasn't she adorable? Looks a lot like Spencer sitting there.

I miss you, Dad.

Oh, and here's a great read. I need to focus more on Creating My Own Happiness and less on simply enduring the days.

Happy Halloween!

My Greatest Blessings

After being chastened by the counsel in General Conference on gratitude and nagged by Jay to post more pictures, here's my greatest blessings.

Jay--

My best friend, my supporter, my expert back-scratcher. Jay is a hard worker and a great dad. He always helps me out with the kids and loves playing with them. With all three newborns, Jay got up at every cry to bring me the baby and then would put he/she/it back in bed after feeding. He laughs at my jokes and even thinks I'm beautiful. What a catch!

Parker--

My first-born and initial experiment in this motherhood thing. Parker is too much like me, tender-hearted and sensitive. He's a good helper and adores Spencer, his "little buddy." He loves to learn and is excited by trying new things.

Merritt--

Miss Sassafras is my princess. She's strong, determined and I have no doubt will get what she wants in life. Merritt always wants to help, especially in the kitchen and with Spencer. Her giggle always gets me smiling and she's got Daddy wrapped around her finger. She's a great sharer, always willing to split a treat or toy with Parker.

And Spencer--

He's so loving and cuddly. Spencer loves to be held and snuggled and we all love him to bits! He's always smiling and happy and brings such a sweet spirit into our home.

Hopefully I'll get pictures up later this week of our "vacation" this summer. And here's two more pictures of Park and Merr from this summer, one at the start of our trip to Jay's hometown for the 4th of July and the second is an average day of dress-up and silliness.

And don't forget my Flickr pictures (on the right, over there ----->) for other pictures of my little monkeys.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Please tell me it's not just me! I've come to dread Sunday mornings. It's the most awefull, painful and agonizing time of my whole week! I swear we'd stop going to church if I didn't need the chance to repent of all my sins so much. Jay's got 7 AM meetings so he's long gone and not handy when I'm trying to get myself ready (A major feat, let me tell you. Like trying to get this 3-baby-bearing, C-section-scarred, jiggly goo of a gut restrained in pantyhose or my whole-body girdle. Makes me shudder even now.) as well as three monkeys! It's like herding cats, I tell ya.

Parker whining "I don't want to go to church" and staring blankly at his toast. Eat it already! And then wrestling Merritt into her dress--I'm literally down on the floor, holding her down and doing up snaps, buttons, zippers and then shoving her feet into the socks and shoes. "You WILL wear this adorable dress and matching hair bow and you'll be beautiful while you're at it! NO, don't lay down or sit on the couch or roll all around on the floor. You'll wrinkle!" And of course, by now my hair has dried with spikes on the left and limp lumps on the right and then Spencer starts crying. Great! Now I've got to nurse him, make sure I'm not leaking like a faucet, dress him--"Please don't spit up, please don't spit up, please--Dang it! You've spit up all over your adorable romper and cute shoes! Well, you'll just have to look stained and stink like curdled cheese 'cause we're late."

And so I slap some makeup on (Yes, my face does intentionally look like war paint,) slip on my "Mom" church shoes (When did I get so old that I've started picking dressy shoes based on comfort and not style?), strap everyone in (after chasing Merritt around the van 3 times,) back out and hit the truck parked opposite my driveway. "Oh well, I'm in a hurry and any fool would know not to park directly across from a driveway and it's only a little scratch and a ding and a...anyway, I'm leaving." And I floor it.

I kid you not about the dented truck. And this Sunday, during the Indy 500 to church ("We're getting there in time for the sacrament, by golly.") Parker asked me, "Mom, is it fast Sunday?" (Note to self: have a FHE about fasting.) "No, honey, it's not fast Sunday." Before I could launch into a hurried explanation of fasting, while watching out for cops and yellow lights, he said "Then why do you have to drive so fast?"

Hmm, good question. Isn't the point of going to church to feel peaceful and open to the Spirit? How come someone's always crying on the way to church and most likely it's me? Yeah, we might make it in time for the sacrament, slipping in during the last verse of the sacrament hymn, but am I spiritually ready for it? We're all grumpy, with hurt feelings and we're supposed to be ready to be spiritually fed.

So I'm changing my ways (I mean it this time.) I think it's more important that we get to church in an attitude of reverence and peace than make it on time. So we'll drive at a legal pace, cross my fingers that the hymns are long and pray that Jay gets a new calling.

The end.

My Dad

Have you ever hurt yourself bad before? Like really, really stub your toe or break an arm or even have two C-sections to bring new, scrawny beings into the world? And the pain is so sharp and deep that it steals your breath and you gasp at the shock to your body, how unexpected it is. I mean all you were doing was making the bed or trying to rescue a kitten or fulfill the commandment to go forth and multiply. And then WHACK! You're stumbling, coughing, trying not to lose it and cry like your toddler.

No phone call in the middle of the night is good. Well, it was 6 AM, but I was deep asleep and knew instantly it wasn't good. Mom said "I think Daddy's dead." WHAT? "I think your dad just died." And the denial, packing quick, waking up sleeping babies and the anxious hour-long drive. No, it can't be. And then the call on the road--yep, he's gone. Don't bother going to the hospital, just come straight to Mom's house.

My dad died suddenly on May 30th, 2007. He'd been suffering from a muscle disease and couldn't walk well or hold things well and steps were virtually impossible. But despite the mobility issues, he was in good health. Then he gets up one morning, talking to Mom and he's gone. The doctor signed off as a heart attack, but I truly think it was a blood clot since he got such little exercise and movement.

Man, life is so hard sometimes! It's been a rough year on all of us, especially my mom. The weekends are the worst and she's usually at either my house or my sister's. It's just too quiet and empty at home. She's said that this second year is harder than the first year, and she's right. Sometimes, when I'm in the middle of changing a diaper or wiping a dirty face or tickling a chubby tummy, I think of him and just lose my breath. I miss him.

But I know, without a doubt, that he's in a better place. He can walk freely and feels good. And although it's sad that Parker said he can't remember what Bowen looks like and Merritt won't remember him and Spencer won't even know him, we'll all be reunited one day. And we'll run to each other and hug and talk about all the things that have happened since we were last together. And we'll rejoice that we all made it.

With Spencer being a scheduled c-section, I got to pretty much pick a date. So Spencer was born on my dad's birthday, April 30th, as a gift and tribute to him. And Spencer has Dad's middle name: Thomas.

We love you, Dad. And we miss you a lot.