Faith.

This morning, Ashley had a major freak-out.
I mean, epic.
It has been building for a while now, the anxiety started over Thanksgiving break.  Whenever she would think about the up and coming “writing journals” in her kindergarten class, she would get a little sick.  She is a perfectionist (like someone else I know..) and worries until she is sick, about spelling anything correctly.
I tell her that I still don’t know how to spell everything correctly.  “There is this magical thing on the computer, that whenever I spell something wrong, it underlines it in a squiggly red line.  Then, I know I have spelled it wrong.  But the cooler thing, the thing that makes this even more magical, is that I can right click (sad that my 6  year old knows just what this action is) and it gives me options for words that I could have possibly meant to spell.  Except for amoxicillin, it has no idea what that word is most of the time.”
Back to the epic freak-out…
So, she was suddenly sick.  (Insert fake coughs here.)  She couldn’t possible go to school.  But me and my mad mommy skills knew she was faking it.  We talked about why she didn’t want to go, what she was afraid of, and I thought I had cleared it all up.  We even ran through how to sound out and then spell a word phonetically.
“Your teacher loves you.  You can ask her for help and she will help you.  This is what kindergarten is all about, nobody in your class is perfect, you are all learning.  We can say a prayer before you leave, just me and you, and ask Heavenly Father to help you.”
But when I walked into her room at 8:05 (five minutes before she should leave to walk), she was sitting on the ladder of her bunk bed STILL IN HER NIGHTGOWN.
I resisted the urge to scream at her, and instead, took her by the hand to help her get ready.  We talked (well, I did most of the talking) while she got ready.
I asked her what the problem was, I said that I thought we’d solved it.
“Aren’t we going to say a prayer, just you and me?”
“But mom, I know the prayer won’t work.”
“It won’t with that attitude.  You just need to have faith.”
“But I don’t know how to have faith…  how do you have faith mom?”
In that moment, a million memories flooded my head.  Experiences I have had in my life, dealing with faith.  I was trying to come up with the most age-appropriate one, one that would be on her level.
“When I was 3, I got a doll for Christmas.  I named her Susie.  I thought that was the most beautiful name.  Susie had eyes that would open and shut when I laid her down.  She even had eyelashes.  I loved her.  I also loved her eyelashes.  I would touch them and explore how they worked.  I even started to pull on them to see where they came from.  I kept pulling, and they came out.  I was so sad, my beautiful doll wasn’t so pretty anymore.  I was sorry that I wasn’t more careful. 
“I knelt down that night, by my bed, with Susie, and said a prayer.  I asked Heavenly Father to help her eyelashes grow back.  I told him how I was sad and wished I hadn’t pulled on them.  Do you think that Heavenly Father could have fixed my doll?”
She just shook her head, her eyes wide.  I knew I had her attention.
“I thought that somehow he could, but I didn’t know how.  I fully expected to wake up the next morning with Susie, perfect again.
“I didn’t know, and I don’t remember how all of this happened, but I remember getting out of bed, Susie wasn’t with me in my bed.  I saw that there was a light on in the kitchen, and I went to see what was happening.  I saw grandpa, my dad, standing at the stove, with the hood light on, Susie laying there on the stove.  Grandpa had one of his paint brushes, he was curling the hairs on the brush with my mom’s tiny curling iron.  He was fixing Susie.
“He cut some of the curled hairs off the brush, and carefully glued them back into Susie’s eye lid.  He fixed her.  My prayer was answered.  Did Heavenly Father fix Susie?
Ashley just shook her head, but I corrected her.
“Grandpa heard my prayer and knew that he had to answer it.  My faith depended on it.  Years later, as we would talk, grandpa told me that he didn’t know how he was going to fix my doll, but Heavenly Father helped him to know what to do.  He was given ideas of what he could use to fix her, and it worked.  Heavenly Father answered my prayer.  I had faith that he would.”
After that, being a little too late to walk to school, I took Ashley into my closet, shut the door, and we knelt down together and we said a prayer.
She was so calm after that.
I dropped the girls off at school, not a problem there.
When I went to pick her up, she was beaming.
“Guess what mom!?”
“What?  How was you day?”
“It was great!!!  The writing journal wasn’t a big deal.  It was so easy!!  We did letter “F” and I spelled “fox” and I did it right.  You were right, there was nothing to worry about.”
“Did Heavenly Father answer our prayer?”
“Yup.”

Day 27.

The day isn’t even done, not even near being over, and yet I am thankful.

The girls have spent the past few days playing together.  It isn’t always perfect and peaceful.  Someone usually gets their feelings hurt, and the pretend plots need to be de-dramatized sometimes.  Sometimes the players need to be reminded that it is just pretend, that we can each have ideas, and take turns playing out our ideas.

As Ashley was crying because Lynn was bored with the Polly Pockets, and wanted to play something else, I told them of what it was like for me growing up…

I had no sisters.  The only people I could play dolls with continually were my friends in the neighborhood.  I didn’t always want to play dolls.  I didn’t always want to play with my friends either.  I was a homebody (still am!) and would much rather play with my brothers, in my own home 95% of the time.

We would spend our time playing G.I. Joes, Star Wars, Micro-Machines, Hot Wheels, Legos, Constructs, or building forts.  Bottom line, we had a blast together.  I loved playing with my brothers.  They were always there, and we always had a fun time.  There were times that I wanted to play Barbies, they knew it.  I remember them building giant “men” using their Constructs, so my Barbie could have some guy friends (besides the Ken doll who had hair issues).  There was one time that Ken, my oldest brother, not the doll, spent a while making a man out of a wire hanger, toilet paper, and duct tape.  We played late into the night with my Barbie and his “man”.  They were so good to me!

They still are..

My brothers are always there when we need help.  Their hands were many of the helping hands when we moved.  They have helped in home-improvement projects, have shoveled my driveway when we were on vacations, and even when I was pregnant or had a newborn.  They have been there for me during the hard times.  They have been a shoulder to cry on.  When others treat me unfairly, they are on my side.  They always support me.  They were on the couch, right next to my dad, “cleaning” guns when a new date came to pick me up.  They are what family a means to me.  We love each other unconditionally.  We have all made bad choices, but we have always been there to support and love one another through them.   They didn’t say a word to me about my “almost marriage”, they just wanted me to be happy.  They were planning on supporting me through it, if that was the choice I made.  I later found out that not one of them really liked him.  “He was alright..  but not good enough for you.”

We always joke about how protective they are.  Joe is referred to as “Sonny” from the “Godfather”.  (That leaves either Ken or Kev to be the “Fredo” and I am not going to do that…)  He can be a little hot-headed..  but so can Ken.  He once chased down a punk kid because he knocked over my snowman.  I was 17 at the time.  Ken was 22.  And then there were the snowboarding trips that Kev and I took.  He always tried to blame me for getting him into near squabbles, but he just got upset to hear other guys on the mountain call me not very nice names when I would ask them to move away from in front of the jumps we wanted to take.  Can you see the hot-headedness?  Geez, but I love ‘em!

I recently got a massive bruise on my forearm after a co-ed volleyball tournament.  It was pretty bad.  I wore long sleeves for the first few days, didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.  Then I started to laugh to myself.  If anyone knew my family, they would know if Merrill had laid his hands on me..

Have you seen that scene in “The Godfather”?  Sonny goes off on Connie’s husband for hurting her.

Um, that is kinda how my family is. 

When I told Merrill that thought, he laughed at me and said, “You think really highly of yourself..  you think your family loves YOU more than they love ME?”

Because that is how they are.

My brothers might not have all things in common with my sweet (but very confused) husband, but they love him anyway.

I feel a little sad for my girls, that they don’t have brothers like I do.  I am thankful that they have each other though.  This time of childhood, the innocence and the play, is so fleeting.

Someday, they will be reminiscing about all of their fun times playing and pretending together..  I wonder if they are remembering this, as they play Polly Pockets with the Christmas village and Nativity…  amoxicillin snow anyone?

I might just have to buy some G.I. Joes and Legos for Christmas, just so they can have the experience.

I am thankful for the brothers I have been blessed with, and the sisters I now enjoy in my life because they have married them. 

I love you Ken, Joe-Bo, and Kev!

Glad to see that some things are still the same.

Saturday, we went to have dinner with Grandpa W.

(We meaning me, the girls, and a couple dozen cupcakes..)

We got to sit and visit, eat good food (because we don’t make BAD food..), and the kids played with their cousins.  We all adored Abby.

(I also took a lot of pictures, but when DON’T I do that..)

Ashley and James loved jumping from Grandpa’s porch trying to clear the little bushes every time, just like I did with my cousins when I was little.

And Grammy busted out suckers for all the grandkids in honor of Peyton and her progress in potty-training.

It was a good day.

The “Not Me” ghost..

It seems that a childhood house guest of my family, has taken up residence in my home with my little family.

He/she is fondly known as the “Not Me Ghost”.

He/she makes frequent appearances, but isn’t seen by anyone when he/she shows up.

We only see the aftermath.

When things are askew, something broken, a mess made, my favorite treat polished off, garbage on the floor, or other unpleasant happenings occur,  and the question is asked, “Who did this?”  it is answered by a chorus of “Not me!”  (I am positive that this will be Peyton’s next learned phrase.)

And there you have it, the “Not Me Ghost” has paid us a visit.

I have noticed his/her visits are happening more frequently, and so have our little talks about honesty, and making good choices.

I wish I could remember how long it took until the “Not Me Ghost” stopped visiting my house growing up..  I wonder if he/she visits there now, of course only to visit our offspring, my parents grandchildren..  maybe relive a few fond memories?

Maybe the more frequent visits will make it necessary to finish one of those basement bedrooms just for his/her comfort.

I would hate to not be hospitable.

Relaxation Techniques..

I will be the first to say that life is busy.
It is stressful.
It is exciting.
Most nights lately, I lay awake, long past the bedtime that my body really desires, all the children sleeping soundly, but my mind, still going.
This is partly due to the hormonal cycle that is ever so fun, and partly due to my mind wanting to plan and organize EVERYTHING ahead of time.
I have to shut my mind off.
Literally.
When I was younger, I would picture one color, and would try to not think of anything else, and that would usually be enough to knock me out.
No counting sheep here.
But the other night, if I tried that, that one color would lead to many, and where they could fit in at the new house..
I had to think of something totally separate from life now, something that would help me to relax and find sleep.
If I didn't have two or three rooms in boxes blocking the cabinet where I keep all of the scrapbooks, I would post pictures, but hey, I am tired.. ;)
I recently got in contact with my best friend from childhood (thank you facebook!!), and while I thought of her often before, re-living many fond memories, I am thinking of my childhood in my neighborhood, so much more than usual. The days where we would play all over the neighborhood, playing capture the flag, bulldog, and when the sun was setting, mom would yell out the back door for us to all come home.
What a simple life.. I loved it. I miss those days.
That was where I let my mind go the other night as I was trying to find something soothing, something to get me to stop my mind and go to sleep.
I started with my own back yard.. the garden, what we grew there. The combination to the shed where we kept our bikes. How I would play G.I. Joes with my brothers outside at the far end of the garden where nothing grew after the pumpkins took over. I remembered how we built huts out of dried grass and mud, then a flood came and wiped-out their village. There would be an intensive rescue effort, and once all the action figures were located, we would do it all over again.
I remembered my best friend, Melissa's house.. the giant patch of daisies at the front of her house, near the hose where we would drink from in the summer time. The gate to her adventure-filled back yard. Remembering all the trees that grew there, and bore fruit that we would eat right from the trees. The tree house where we played for countless hours. Sliding on her "Crocodile Mile" (much like a slip and slide, but way better to us!). Balancing on the railroad ties that held the strawberry patch and flower beds. We would play fox and geese in the winter in our snow-covered yards, and build snow forts to have huge snowball fights with our brothers.
Sitting in her cozy basement, smelling the wood-burning stove, eating saltines while watching M*A*S*H or Jeopardy with her dad.
Playing our made up game of "Business".
There was nothing in the world like finding a comfy pillow to sit on in their solarium and read books there.
But then again, there was nothing like her mother's homemade bread, warm out of the oven with butter melting on it..
That is the bread recipe I use to this day..
We spent birthdays together, hers always at Tony's pizza, just her parents, she and I.. mine, we were always at my house, having a slumber party, eating junk food. Eating lots of cake. Laughing until carbonated beverages came out our noses.
Christmas always brought peanuts, in the shell to her house, and we enjoyed playing with our new toys together.
We also used to have marathon Monopoly and LIFE games. They would go on for hours, and one summer I think it was days!! Our favorite treats during those games were lemon-lime Shasta and the family style bag of licorice, always saving the black for the last.
Once Junior High hit, there was the inevitable separation. She was far more talented than I was, she knew exactly where she was going in life. She played what seemed like a gazillion instruments, to my 3 years of piano.. was incredibly talented and intelligent, and went on to drum major in high school, sterling scholar.
I just went with it.
But there were still the Christmas gifts, and birthday gifts, run from door to door every year.
So many fond memories.
I fell asleep somewhere around picking green beans in her garden while avoiding the daddy long legs and picking dandelions to earn a penny for each from her mom..
I slept well that night.

Let's call it "Tag Tuesday".. shall we?

I'm doing a bunch, cause I have a bunch to do..
Play along with any, or all if you want!

Tag #1: Honest Scrap

The award is "Honest Scrap" The rules of the award are :

~ Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design

~ Show the 7 winners names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with "Honest Scrap." Well, there is no prize but it is fun!

~ List 10 honest things about yourself.

1- I am a total toilet paper snob.. Charmin all the way!!
2- Sometimes, I have to run up the stairs at night, when I am the last one to go to bed.
3- I get into "Intervention" a little too much.
4- I am satisfied when a good spank is administered to a little bum, without a follow up laugh fro the spankee.
5- I wish my hair were long again, sometimes.
6- I don't really read to the girls, try recite.. I have most of their books memorized. Years of reading them will do that to you.
7- I enjoy spending money on new books for the girls almost as much as I do spending it on scrapbook stuff.
8- I am behind on my scrapbooks.. back to 2006 y'all..
9- I used to sluff seminary (quite a bit) to enjoy a 2 hour and fifteen minute lunch.. :0
10- I have been forgetting to take my picture of the day picture, and usually do it right before I put the girls to bed, which only riles them up, or after they've gone to sleep.

Tag #2: 7 Line Bio Poem

Here's a hint: Google it!

Mindy
Crafty (he he he..) friendly caring nurturing.
Mom to Lynnie-Lou, Ashley McSplashley, and Sweet "P".
Lover of all things chocolate, Merrill, and creating.
Who needs sleep, chocolate, and friends.
Who fears clowns, well-placed pop-its, losing everything.
Who would like to see old friends, a time machine, the inside of my eyelids.

Tag #3: Funny things I used to say..

Quite frankly, I still say a lot of funny things! Like when I got my name all jumbled up and Pindy Mitcher came out.. yep, that was smooth..

When I was small, I loved my dolls. I had little bottles to feed them and a little rocking chair in which I could sit and rock them. I would make a sucking sound for them while they ate the play bottle. My mom loved that..

I began my addiction to junk food at a young age.. I didn't want to stop then, either. One day, while mom was visiting with aunt Wendy in our kitchen, I climbed into the cupboard, very quietly, to munch on some potato chips. Their conversation suddenly paused, but my crunching did not, and my mom called my name..
"Mindy."
No answer, chewing.
A little more seriously now, "Mindy.."
Still, enjoying.
More annoyance that I am not answering her, "MINDYYY!!"
To which I responded, slamming the door open against the perpendicular wall, "WHH-AT!!"
That was greeted with laughter, and I shut the door and went about my second course.

Mom says I used to get all excited when M*A*S*H wold come on. I couldn't even talk yet, but knew when it started when I heard the helicopters in the opening sequence. I would run down the stairs, into the front room and spin with my arms held out like the blades of a helicopter, turning, back and forth... I still love M*A*S*H :)

Did I get them all?

Flashback Friday...

Remember these?

Yeah, I know that NOW they are "Laffy Taffy"... but somehow they are not the same...
The girls and I devoured a "Cherry Jerry Laffy Taffy" today, and it got me thinkin' about back in the day when i was young, I'm not a kid anymore, but somedays I wish that I could be young again... (anyone name the tune?) anyways...
We used to go to the old outdoor Roy pool and swim till we were exhausted! We paid $2.00 to get in and had $1.00 left over for treats. It usually divided up 50 cents for a can of pop and the remainder for two tangy taffys. They tasted so good, especially after swimming for so long.