Spreading the Love

It seems I've a lack of steam for this whole blogging thing lately. Does it have anything to do with the fact that each and every day I'd die if I couldn't get out and about? Maybe a tad. Today fell into that category in a HUGE way. So I packed up the chipmunks and headed out. We've explored our new town, and the neighboring one, on bike and on foot, but today we took off somewhere a little different. Out of town. And it was bliss.

Okay, I lie. The hugestosity hills I dragged myself as well as the extra 100lbs (and no I'm not talking thighs or butt here, but kids) up were crazy. I was an inch shy of chickening out and coming home to eat some comfort foot, but I stuck to it. Oh how worth it! I don't think I've mentioned how beautiful it is out here so let me tell you just incase you get the wrong idea. IT'S STUNNING OUT HERE. Our two hour expidition took us past ranches and we crossed paths with three deer.

That bike trailer I snagged was about the worlds best invention, and my best investment for this summer, especially considering the move we made. I'll never be able to live without it now. :) The saddest part of this tale is that the ride came to an end all too soon. I had someone coming by my place and didn't think it'd be very nice if I stood her up. You don't make new friends like that. So I grugidly came home.

Tomorrow is a totally different story though. Tomorrow, if the weather permits, we are taking lunch out with us and enjoying the day out in the great green expanse. It's going to be bliss, even with the hills.

So while I am ignoring my blog I thought I'd send you over to meet with Amy. Be nice. Go visit her. She's amazing, she's talented, she inspires me, and she's new to blogging. So go spread a little love and say hi to her.

Past Me is Rusty

In a past life *read, prechipmunks* I used to have long bonding sessions with nature. I'd bring my camera along to prove it. Being that we live where we live now I thought I'd see if I could pick up my camera and blow the dust off again, see if I could still take the odd picture of stuff like I used to.

I have one word for you today.
RUSTY.
That doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it though.
What it does mean is I need to get out more. With or without the kids.

Must Have Boxes

For the past month I've had boxes on the brain.

We need to get some.
I need to pack them.
Do I have enough?
Where can I get more?

Qucikly followed by

Put that one there.
Unpacking and flattening boxes.
Getting them to the recyclers.

It's been great fun.

We still have boxes on the brain here.
I started something potentially bad with my kids.
I packed them while I was moving.
Each got their own little box to sit in while I was trying to get my life organized and labeled in boxes. Some days I was hovering a little too close with my tape gun, but I still didn't tape them shut and label them for the move. It was great fun, just ask my kids. A box with a couple random items thrown in is party haven for babes.

And now.

Now I have two kids who won't stay out of boxes.
My kids are to boxes like cats to paper bags.

We have a big box that has taken up residence in our living room. It is marked from some else's move as scrapbooking stuff and office things. Obviously it's not me, I don't scrapbook. This box is our fort. It fits two kids comfortably. Three if you add a slightly larger cousin to the mix. This box will even shut with said kids and cousin if they are all sitting nicely on their butts. We enjoy our new fort.

What mama doesn't enjoy is the other boxes.

Like the boxes that came with my son's birthday tractors from grandparents. Those, sadly, do not fits kids. Or at least not as well as a particular little lady would like it to. Another box that doesn't fit a kid in it, the empty one that once held little plastic snack bags. She tried. And failed.

Yup. I have kids that are now obsessed with getting into boxes, and more than willing to throw adorable one year old fits when it doesn't work out for them.

Look what I started.

What Did I Say?

In our old house the phone was in a spot perfect for little hands to reach, touch, dial, and drive mama slightly bonkers. Without throwing any sort of tantrum, but having a slight desire to, I demanded the phone be moved, or my children to remove their arms. My husband opted for moving the phone base. He wanted to move it to the kitchen, in the corner by the fridge but I clearly recall saying something about the fact that putting it there was NOT a good idea, AT ALL. He heeded me not.

A couple days later I picked up the phone and got nothing. No dial tone, nothing. Silence, just blissful silence. Blissful but also irritating because I needed to make a call.Sherlock doned his cap, dusted off his magnifying glass and went in search of the problem. When he located it I nearly busted out laughing. Okay, fine, I DID bust out laughing good and hard, because you see, the problem was as simple as a bad relocating job. My dearest husband, of whom I do love, but also enjoy mocking and teasing, didn't listen to his brilliant wife who is smarter than the average bear. He slapped that phone of ours where I said not to, and the little thingy that plugs into the wall for clarity because of our internet, it melted, because it was behind our toaster over (that for the record HE put on the counter though I hate it being up there).

Hot toaster oven+little phone adatpter=melted little box and no phone signal

I looked at him, laughing all along, and said, "this would be a great 'I told you so' moment, but I won't go there." Being the good man that he is he declared it was all his fault, that he should have listened to me from the get go, and told me I should blog about it with pictures. But we were moving, and I didn't care to take pictures so much of the melted box, so I didn't. And I forgot to blog, forgot I had a blog, and now it's an old story, but still worth laughing at. So there you have it, a great story, with lack of pictures. You will have to use that dusty imagination of yours a little to dream of what it looked like, and to visualize me standing there laughing at my husband.

Oh, for the record, the new phone, is not behind the toaster oven in this new place.
And the toaster oven is not on the counter.
We shouldn't encounter any more issues like this, at least where the phone is concerned.

Time Passes

Time passes. Some days it seems as if someone pointed a remote at my life and hit the fast forward button, just to walk away and put it down and walk away, leaving me wonder where time has gone. There are days where I wonder when the minute hand will finally get around to sitting on the next little tick on the clock face. Never does it ever meet somewhere in the middle.

Today 5 years has passed. 5 years since my oldest daughter died. She'd be going to school in September. This is hard for me to swallow. Tomorrow she'd be glowing in all her 5 year old glory, and most likely driving me insane with frustration and love all at the same time.

Today one year has passed. One year since my sweet little man who is always happy and lovey made an entry into my life and changed the face of this day from bitter to sweet. One year. He gets into my drawers faster than anything humanly possible. The only thing he does more quickly is melt my heart.

Where has the time gone? How can we grasp those memories and hold them just a little more tightly? Recall them a little more brightly? 5 years. One year. Two of my babies, entwined on this one day. I miss my girl so much, still, after so many days, events, and memories without her. And as much as I pleaded to not have my son born on the day she died, I have to say I am glad he was. His arrival was meant to be on that day, and I am so thankful for that.

And so today I cry a few tears of pain. For my loss, and missed chances. And today I cry a few tears for the great things I've been able to have in my life this past year.

Neekid

Remember how I said we had paper blinds up to shield the world from my neekid white flesh as I run about the house? Well, it isn't just me. No, no. I am not alone it seems (and really, I'm not a neekid kind of gal anyhow). My darling sweet daughter, of whom I love and adore, nearly died a couple nights ago. It was a toss up if the murderer was going to be a father or mother figure. Let's just say, she is one lucky girl her parents have a sence of humor at 3:30 in the morning.

Let's see. Crying is heard. Husband stumbles, half asleep, out of bed, around my side of the bed, and out the door to my miniatures room. He comes back very quickly and in a not so hush-hush voice announces to all present *me,myself,and I, who were ALL sleeping I might add* that he needed HELP. Like he's never done it before. I kick off the blankets in eager anticipation to assist my darling husband, and not one ounce of grrr slipped in there, nope, not one. I get to her room and he's pulling her out to change her bum. Or so I think. So I'm standing there, half blind and he has the gall to say he needs help. Again. Like me standing there beyond thrilled to be awake at such a mental hour isn't helpful enough. I politely ask him what he thinks it is I should be HELPING with.

"She's naked" he says.

Yah. What else is new? She learned to peel her sleeper off and some nights I dress her three times and still pull her out bright and early in the morning with nothing but her diaper on. "SO?"

"Totally naked."

And than I see it. Her stark neekid little self. Daddy wasn't changing her diaper, he was putting one on. Hmmm. I'd like to add here that I could now see what it is he might like help with. I peered into her crib, with my night vision eyes on (those NV goggles would have totally come in hand here) to see two blankets, two bears, a su-su, and a diaper. I pull them all out. Soaking wet. I pull out the sheet. We mop down her sleeping arrangments and at 3:30 in the morning thrown in a load of laundry. Because this has become my favorite time to do a load. I'm up anyways right? May as well be productive.

So my neekid lady loves stripping. I'd like to mention this is not a learned trait. I did not teach her this, um, skill. And if it's genetic I'd like to add that it's comes from her father's side of the family.



People. I have to mention here, that I just had a horse pass by the window and neigh at me. Giddy up.

In Six Words

It is Saturday again. That means two things. One, my husband is home and could be tending the wild beings called chipmunks in this area, but he's not. So they continue to be wild (but not ferocious) while I attempt a post here. ***let me change that, he took them to recycle our many bazillions of moving boxes out of deep love and affection for me, it had nothing to do with the fact that I threatened his life*** It also means Six Word Saturday, and since I've sort of not done it in a while I'll try to remedy that by posting random six words through the post. It's a mental warm up for the day.

My life is all instant replay.

To spice things up summer hours at my husband's work has kicked in. This means FRIDAYS OFF.

Can I hear a yahoo?

*yahoo*
Thankyouverymuch.

Yesterday we went into the wild wild west, or the great outdoors. This is something those city people pretend to know about. There are bugs and dirt out there, those sorts of things. Ever heard of them? We got into our brown sub and launched off. In ETA 30 seconds we were beautiful terrain and ETA 10 minutes we were far enough away from civilization as we now know it (aka podunkville) to be in hiking terrain.

Beautiful.
That's all I have to say.
Or in six words:
See this stunning place I live.

And a note:
Be warned, I am no photographer.


Oh, and have I mentioned I'm in love with it out here?
How could I have lived in the city for so long?
Oh I love living out here.

The husband and I took the kids on a bit of a hike. As hiking as you can get with a one year old who wants to walk it all-on-her-own-but-you-can-hold-my-hand-thank-you. But they loved it. How could they not? I mean, these pictures don't do it justice, but it's heaven out here. And they were so well behaved I wasn't even tempted to toss them into the falls. How's that for good family fun?

On the way home we had to stop to partake in the local amusements. Cowboys. Real live ones, with cows running amuck. Cowboys on horseback showing those cows whose boss. No impromptu steer wrestling or anything, they didn't want to make themselves look too good all in one go, they have to save stuff for our next outing.