Life in Jirkaville

She's Crafty

2008-11-17T21:23:00.000-08:00

In case you were wondering, that's a "balloon flower" centerpiece my little Martha threw together before dinner the other night. That's riggers tape, the military's version of duct tape, holding it all together.

She's like MacGyver and Martha Stewart rolled into one.
God Bless Her!

Pondering

2008-11-17T15:05:00.000-08:00

I have a self-cleaning oven, why don't I have a self-cleaning toilet?
I mean really.
It is to much to ask?

Life Lessons in Jirkaville

2008-11-17T06:07:00.000-08:00

More and more our kitchen has become a family sanctuary, of sorts; a place where we come together, a place where we spend time laughing and cooking; making sustenance…for our bodies and souls.

The big kids have enjoyed making cakes, cupcakes, pancakes and scrumptious brownies. The delight of making something tangible is etched upon their smiling faces, they stand just a wee bit taller for having done something and done it well. They are, my not so little Iron Chefs.

I am joyful that we share this love of cooking…really, this love of food.

I often, if not daily spend hours, planning meals and cooking. For me, laying the table with good, hearty and whole foods is a true labor of love. With every movement, I instill a piece of myself and pray that it helps them grow to be happy and healthy adults. That our time eating and talking is laying the foundation for strong communicative families of their own.

Patrick loves whipping up a quick meal, always trying to out do me, (never succeeding, of course.) There is always lots of sizzle and singing when he graces the stovetop…not to mention the mess! No matter what he cooks up, it’s always filled with fun! (Oh, and salt!)

Even Madison is getting into the mix. She loves to chop and stir; she is my little prep cook. She makes quick work of carrots and potatoes. There isn’t a vegetable she hasn’t mastered. She loves throwing the odds and ends into the sink and moving on to the next task. This was our routine, until last night…

Last night changed the way we look at cooking with our little girl. Last night our sassy princess almost lost her right hand- seriously.

Maddie was chopping some celery and string cheese, (her snack of choice) while Patrick and I put the finishing touches on our Caesar Salad ala’ Jirkaville, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a blur at the sink.
I heard the whirl of the disposal.
I turned to see her arm swing over the sink.
I ran and whisked her away as her hand entered the small dark hole.
My heart in my throat, tears in my eyes.

Patrick switched off the disposal, Madison crying-not understanding.

For all the time we have spent in the kitchen as a family, we have yet to have a serious conversation about safety. Yes, they know that knives are sharp and fire is hot; but what about the proper way to hold a vegetable while slicing it? How you should turn the pot handles when cooking.....Or that you could lose a hand in the garbage disposal.

We realize that we have some work to do in the old sanctuary before it’s a sanctuary, again.

Kitchen safety will be the hot topic in our kitchen from now on.

How about yours?

Looking for a Twelve Step Program

2008-11-16T09:33:00.000-08:00

In fits and starts I tried, although feebly, to begin writing again. If truth be told, I have spent hours staring blankly at a stark screen, trying to relive my life through words, but nothing was forthcoming. I sat, I stared, I put my fingers on the keyboard; NOTHING.

It’s not that life hasn’t produced some noteworthy moments, or that my little darlings haven’t driven me to drink…or that I didn’t want to crawl in bed and cry after the election, cause I did, want too. (I had to get up, the kids kept complaining about being hungry and how it was my job to make sure they ate….the nerve, seriously.)

Another problem that has impeded my ability to concentrate: FACEBOOK. I have become dependent on a social networking site. I am currently looking for a 12 step program, but nothing yet…I promise you, I am looking diligently. It doesn’t help that a few of my favorite bloggers are just as addicted and I get to chat them up on that venue….I know, I know. It’s a distraction. I’m working on it.

Ohhhhhhhh, I just got another friend notification. Gotta go!

Mommy Shoes

2008-08-19T08:18:00.000-07:00

Lying on the couch, reading in a rare silence that permeates our home. Joyfully wallowing in this luxury, shoes kicked off, a good book and a glass of sweet tea.......... perfection.
(This is as close to perfection as I can get in my life without being on a beach, 20 pounds thinner and 10 years younger.)

It isn't long before I hear the patter of bare feet on the kitchen linoleum, the hmmmm from teenager’s lips as she rocks to her little pink IPod. She rounds the corner, looks at me with a smile and sits down. She eyes my shoes, eyes me, and the gracefully slides her thin feet into my shoes; with her eyebrows raised, she tilts her feet this way and then that way.

She shrugs her shoulders, "They ARE really comfortable, but would NEVER wear them, they are, ummmm, like, MOMMY Shoes." (Teenage speak for: they are U.G.L.Y.)

Disdain actually dripping from her voice.

“Hmmm…KAY. News bulletin. I am a mommy,” my weak reply.

“Yeah, but you chose to wear mommy shoes, you could, like, chose to wear cool shoes.”

“I like those shoes.”

“Yeah, but they are not cool.”

“So what you’re really saying that I am not cool.”

She draws herself off the couch, saunters to the doorway, looks over her shoulder and smiles, “Yeah, pretty much.”

OUCH.

Back to the School!

2008-08-16T09:54:00.000-07:00

School starts next Monday.
I might just have some time to sit down and write.
Until then, I miss you all!

Pimping My Children Out For Chores

2008-07-16T07:57:00.000-07:00

The job description for being a mother is ever-changing, (yes honey, being a mother is a job.)

Chief bottle washer, Nurse, Doctor, Activities Director, Lego Engineer, Sheriff, Taxi Driver, ATM, Friend, and a shoulder to cry on—the list could go on forever.

I however, never thought I’d be a WARDEN.

Yes, a warden.

“Time out!”
“Go To Your Room Until You Can Be Nice!” (With any given child in my home, this could be forever.)
“You’re Grounded!”

Oy vey, what’s next locking them in their rooms with a box of Cheerios and a coffee can? (Oh stop, I’d never really do this- but it is so fun to fantasize about.) I need to find better discipline methods, I’m pretty sure being confined to their rooms filled with computers, T.V.’s and books , isn’t a hardship to these children.

Anyone need slaves? Maybe the thought of being pimped out to do other people's household chores, will scare them straight.

Or maybe I just need a vacation.

Books, Authors and Life

2008-07-13T09:10:00.000-07:00

I’ve written before that I am a voracious reader, that I love books. Their weight, their smell and most importantly, their ability to give some respite from being a mother of four.

This love wasn’t innate, that’s to say; I was NOT born with the love of books.

In fact, I was a slow reader. Very slow reader, sluggish even. The words did not come easily and they certainly did not paint vivid pictures in my mind. I was put in the “slow reader” class, yet I still struggled- for years. Never fully comprehending the sentences, as I had to read each word slowly and separately, never learning to flow them together…

Until fourth grade.

Until, Mrs. Kimes.

Until, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. This book captured and captivated me, as Mrs. Kimes read it to our class in weekly installments. Judy Blume’s words wove a magic carpet that took me to new places and new experiences, her books helped me face sisterhood, puberty, scoliosis and yes, even my own sexuality.

My big girls, both “slow readers” themselves love to read, thanks to Meg Cabot. Neither one really liked to read until the seventh grade. Judy Blume didn’t do it for them, the Magic Tree House series- bombed out. Everything I tried just fell on deaf ears, until they found Meg Cabot. Her words spoke to them, like Judy’s spoke to me.

Captain Underpants whispered to Chase. (He still doesn't LOVE to read.)

The Lorax, by Dr. Seuss screams to Maddie.

What author first spoke to you? Too your children?

Fluff

2008-06-19T07:24:00.000-07:00

I had this whole post on motherhood ready to go...instead I'm going to wax poetic about Tori Spelling.
That's right, TORI SPELLING.
Ick. I know.
But,
I watched her little reality show, and liked it.

I liked it.

See how far I've fallen.
I like a Tori Spelling program.
I like a Tori Spelling real-ity show.

I know, you can't be my friend anymore.

Take a trip to Jirkaville with Big Ed

2008-06-18T09:33:00.000-07:00

Without asking him, I'm going send you all to ED- he spent the weekend with us and helped my husband get his mojo back...and took some great pictures of our family.

I have been soul searching and trying to put my thoughts in order. A "real" post is on it's way...In the morning.

Until then, read Ed's great blog, puruse Jirkaville through another's eyes- I'm off to blow dry my hair!

P.S. - Kristen, I miss you. Angie, I'm coming back. Thanks to all my lovely and support cyber friends.

Help!

2008-06-08T13:19:00.001-07:00

I've lost my bloggin' mojo.
Oh where, oh where has it gone?

Have you seen it?
Did you take it?

I Am So Going To Hell

2008-05-31T15:28:00.000-07:00

So, um, last night- I took the girls, MY girls, you know the teenage ones; to see Sex and the City. I know, it’s rated R and ~~totally~~ kind of, inappropriate.

BUT, hear me out: As soon as the movie had come out on DVD, they would have watched it over at a friend’s house, behind my back. (Yes, you would have.) I do not harbor any illusions that my children are perfect. They are kind, loving and brilliant- however they are kids and they want what they can’t have; the forbidden, so to speak.

My rational is simple, if I am with them, I can buffer and explain. I can remind them that it’s a movie. That it’s not all real.

We had a marvelous time, seriously.

We went to the 9:45 pm showing, the theater was packed- sold out, in fact. We had oodles of popcorn, soda, and candy…We were girls. We giggled, laughed and blushed-together. I hid their eyes during the ~~really~~ slightly raunchy parts and they swatted my hand away with a smile and an “Awe MOM”.

I don't regret a thing, except NOT slapping the witch behind me that kept kicking the back of my chair. We spent time together, I would even call it quality time.

Savannah Jane, Birthday Girl

2008-05-29T22:09:00.000-07:00

Today Savannah celebrated her 14th birthday!!!!

She was so bummed, we made her wait until after school to open her gifts.

But it was worth it! She got a necklace from Tiffany's!

And lot's and lot's of clothes!

And a new pink Ipod to replace the other pink Ipod!

Sharing a moment with her siblings. It almost looks like they love each other .

My attempt at a "professional" looking cake.

Happy Birthday, Baby!

Looking forward to your BIG Party on the 7th!

Oh Snails!

2008-05-22T20:45:00.000-07:00

Spongebob's got nothing on Madison!

She LOVES snails.

Like, A LOT

Would you let a snail crawl on your face?

The thought makes my skin crawl and my stomach TURN.

See You Soon!

2008-05-21T15:44:00.000-07:00

I'm back, sort of.
My laptop is back,
but I have pneumonia.

So typing anything worth anything is not going to happen.

Two shots of Rocephin, a 10 day supply even more antibiotics, codeine, codeine cough syrup and two muscle relaxers, I am in no shape to even think. (This is NOT a bad thing.)

I hope to have a chance to catch up soon!

Super Woman (Sincerely 'Fro Me To You)

2008-05-15T12:01:00.000-07:00

August 31, 1980.
A momentous day, truly.
My 8th birthday, specifically.

It's the day that I got to be a super hero, a day that I had been dreaming of, and longing for.
The day I opened the best gift, ever.

That's right, Super Woman underoo's.
oh yeah, I got a swing set, too.

I wore my underoo's everywhere, under my school clothes, under my church clothes and as pajama's.
My mother literally had to rip them from my filth encrusted body to wash them.
I stood in front of the washer and dyer until they were done, naked.

Waiting with baited breath, (okay, I was holding my breath.)

With my underoo's on, I conquered all.
Neighborhood bullies, evil teachers and the poltergeist that lived under my bed, (serious, y'all.)
I was invincible, unstoppable and pretty silly looking.

Can someone please tell me why I thought I looked cool?
And the Princess Leia buns, yeah, super cool.
NOT!

Flashing back is painful, was I really that dorky?
I swear, I was the coolest chick on the block...
I guess it all goes back to the delusional thing.

Leave a comment and follow this link and flashback with my friends.

Wordless (kind of) Wednesday

2008-05-14T07:21:00.001-07:00

For the third night in a row,

Madison has slept in her own bed.

This is a celebratory situation, indeed.

I did it...

2008-05-13T07:42:00.000-07:00

I got good tech support, scrap that, I got GREAT tech support.

Last week the wireless portion of my laptop disappeared. Literally. One night it was working fine, the next morning it no longer existed, it may have run away with our entire network, but that's another blog.

Anyway, Patrick configured, reconfigured, rebooted and just couldn't fix it, so we took it to Fry's, they wanted $99.99 to diagnose that there was a problem and then send it to HP.

Ummm, HELLO, we know what the problem is...but thank you, really, I can send it to HP for FREE.

So, when Patrick was at Costco yesterday, (our home away from home. Some people have a beach house, we have Costco) he saw a brochure for their Concierge service. Costco covers all their electronics for two years! I bought this laptop last March!

Which means I still have a warranty!
Which means we don't need to go further into debt to fix it!
Ohhh yeah, oh yeah! Go, Costco!

I called this fabulous service this morning, I was immediately connected to Mike. A very nice man from Salt Lake City, he walked me through a few processes and then professed that he didn't know what the deal was, but if I could hold for three to five minutes, he would get an HP tech to help me, (free of charge!)

In exactly one minute and twenty-seven seconds, (my phone has a timer) Mike came back on with Zef, a nice man in Idaho, who helped me through three more processes and quickly decided it needed to be sent in...he would send a box right away. He was patient and kind, and apologetic, three of my favorite qualities in a customer service scenario.

Although I won't have a laptop, for seven to nine days, the service I received makes up for it, in spades.

Just another reason for me to worship at the altar of Costco. Not that I really needed another reason, just ask our American Express Card.

Madison Estelle

2008-05-12T07:42:00.000-07:00

You were born this morning in the wee hours, with your grandma's and my friend, Jessica in attendance. Your daddy in Iraq, impatiently awaiting news about your arrival...You came out with a scream that let us know you were here and you were very unhappy at being thrust into this cold world two weeks early, once settled into my arms,you quieted and our journey began.

Happy Birthday, My Little Love.

Candy Land

2008-05-09T08:41:00.000-07:00

Last June I purchased Candy Land for Madison, thinking that it would be a fun way to solidify her knowledge of colors, help with counting and a great way to ease her into family game night.

It wasn't.
At. All.

She didn't want to take turns, she didn't want to follow the directions and when she inevitably lost, she threw herself on the floor and cried. It was an ugly scene, one that didn't bear repeating.
Candy Land went back into the dark recesses of the game closet--until she was a little older.

A little older she is, so out came the game. We (Maddie and I) sat down to give it one more try. I explained the rules, we picked our little gingerbread men and drew our cards, (that Mommy stacked so the "proper" outcome would prevail.) The game went fast, Maddie grasped the "my turn, your turn" concept, she touted each color as the cards were drawn, she found the corresponding colors and made her way to the Candy Castle with a Gum drop smile, life is good.

Fast forward to the following evening (last night), Maddie sets up the board, she is a "big girl" and can do it herself, which means I can't "fix" the game. (oh crap!) We begin with smiles, as Maddie is in the lead, she is in total control. She pulls a card and yells, "Two Blue". I pull and card and she screams, "One yellow".

We are three quarters of the way up the board when she draws a pink candy cane card and has to go back. I draw the peanut card and go back, but I'm still in the lead and Maddie is getting crabby. "Your cheating", she claims with a pout. We continue to play, her color pronouncements take a turn from glee to glum .

I draw a card, show it to her for the color announcement,
"Two friggin' reds" she moans.

I try really hard to not to laugh.
I look at Patrick-- he is barely suppressing his own laughter.
Do I correct her? Do I let it go?

I bust out laughing, Patrick laughs and Maddie looks forlorn.
"It's not fair, you're cheating!" she cries.

I guess I should be happy that she didn't actually say the "F" word.

I'M BAAAACCCKKKK

2008-05-08T08:19:00.000-07:00

Sort of.
My laptop is wired.
I am stuck at the dinning room table until Patrick figures out why I have no wireless card, (which could be like, forever.) The thing is built in, where the heck did it go? It was there and then it wasn't--like my youth.
Although, I had complete access to the rest of the programs on my computer, i.e.- MS word, I failed to sit down and write anything meaningful. In fact, I didn't sit down with a computer...at all.

Can you hear George Michael singing, "Freedom"?
I can.

Holy Moly Guacamole, the things I got done!
Every stitch of fabric in this house has been washed, dryed and folded-- put away even, the floors gleam and I even played Candyland with Madison.
I am out of control.
Now if losing weight were so easy, I'd look like Heidi Klum, only shorter and brunette.
Okay FINE, I'll never look like Heidi Klum....except in my own twisted mind.

Tomorrow, I'll be back.
For reals.

No "Real" Post Today

2008-05-06T08:23:00.000-07:00

My laptop's wireless (built-in) adapter bit the dust...I am relegated to the desktop, which hates me and I hate the keyboard-which means, no meaningful post. (cause all my posts are so meaningful and "impressive")
Plus, the new Jen Lancaster book was delivered to my door yesterday, I must go ~~read~~ pay attention to my child.
Later.

I'm A BIG Girl

2008-05-05T00:00:00.000-07:00

Feet up, Jungle Book on, and eating a PB&J--she made all by herself.

"I can do it, I'm a BIG girl."

She turns four in a week, she thinks she's turning twenty-four.

I wish I could just stop time and keep her like this forever.

(Providing she learns to sleep in her own bed)

I Am What I Am

2008-05-04T08:13:00.000-07:00

Who knew yesterdays post would be so controversial? Who knew that my using the “F” word three times in one post would ruin my standing in bloggyland? That the backlash would be so fierce, that I would feel the need to justify my use of any word on MY blog.

I received six (yes, six) e-mails yesterday regarding my “foul trailer trash” mouth and how disappointed these six people were in me. How they, in essence thought I was a different sort of blogger. That I was “closer to God, than that”, (this is a direct quote, my friends.)

Whoa, Nellie.

First off, what does God have to do with the “F” word? What does my faith have to do with my need to utter a few expletives occasionally? I am pretty sure there is not a 13th commandment that states, “Thou shall not use the “F” word.” Please, correct me if I am wrong.

Secondly, this is my blog. This is where I write, what I want. You are not required to read it. I totally understand that you are offended, that it YOUR God given right. I understand if you feel the need to “remove me from your reader.” I am totally cool with that, because if you cannot forgive me a few character flaws, then we could never be “friends” anyway.

Oh and just in case, you did not get the memo; I am not perfect.

I swear, (obviously.) I have a drink or four, every once in a while. I have been known to yell at people on the freeway. I have been judgmental. I have been rude. When I was seven, I stole a Butterfinger from a local liquor store. I am sure there are a multitude of other sins, but I’ll spare you the gruesome and unholy details.

I am what I am.

Oh and for the record, Yes, I do kiss my husband with this mouth.

Just A Walkin'

2008-05-03T09:03:00.000-07:00

I'm fucking back.
I. AM. BACK.
Fucking A.

I woke up this morning at 0500, I was angry.
ANGRY.

Why, you ask?

Wife Swap.
Friggin', (yes, friggin, I have used up my quota of foul words in the first eight words of this post) reality T.V. gave me a glimpse of myself. While it wasn't horrible, it was sad...downright pathetic.

Three mornings ago, I considered getting up and walking across the street to the community gym. I contemplated this for exactly 3 minutes before I grabbed the remote. I have amazing willpower, don't I? It was 0430; I was jonesing for some DVR...walking five miles never gives me quite the adrenaline rush that ER does. (Yes, we already covered the fact I am delusional.)

Scrolling through the recorded selections, I realized that I didn't really want to watch anything; I just needed to occupy my mind. I needed some mind numbing bliss. What better than Wife Swap? A trashy drag-racing mama trades places with an uptight clean freak, undeniably mind numbing.

As I sat there, I realized I am THAT clean freak. I have no life outside of my home, I live to take care of my family. I live to clean. I judge myself on how clean my house is and the only person who cares is me. I tell myself that I do it for my family, that it’s my job and even better, that I love doing it. If truth were told, I do it because I am a lonely and ~~pathectic~~ bored housewife. I have convinced myself that my weekly trip to Costco is a fun day “out”. That going to the commissary is exciting. That all I really need is a gallon of bleach and I am fulfilled!

Who the hell am I?

Who is that over-weight, (20lbs, to be exact) sad and desperate woman in the mirror?

Holy Hell, it’s me!

These are the very thoughts that ran circles in my head as I lay in bed this morning. The very thoughts that pissed me off. I have allowed myself to turn into one of those old ~~fat~~ bitter military wives.

WTF, over.

Turn me over, stick a fork in me. I am DONE.

I will not be that woman anymore.

I got my fat arse out of bed, strapped on my IPhone and WALKED. I walked like I have never walked before, with determination….with ANGER.

God, it felt good. I felt good.

I walked for an hour and a half; I listened to music, MY MUSIC. The sound track of my life pulsing in my ears, Aaron Neville, AC/DC, Alan Jackson, The Beatles, The Beastie Boys, Clay Walker, Billy Idol, Crystal Gail, Pearl Jam, Garth Brooks, The Soundtrack to Grease, Janes Addiction, The Violent Femmes, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, Stone Temple Pilots, Salt n’ Pepper and Patsy Cline…..I was jammin’ with Bob Marley.

Hot Damn, I even jogged for a mile…A mile. I haven’t run in 6 years. It felt FUCKING amazing. (No other word properly conveys the feeling, sorry.)

The more I moved; the more determined I felt. The sweat and anger pouring from my pores, like toxic waste. I should probably call Hazmat for a cleanup, for six years of pent up anger, frustration, and loneliness left quite a lethal trail, ( I’m hoping to avoid a class action suit.)

Tomorrow I will walk, and the next day I will run and just maybe; next month, I’ll fly.

Thanks Wife Swap for the epiphany.