all in a day...

-went to the airport to pick up randy...
-griffin pee'd on the chairs waiting for randy at baggage claim.
-gave ella milk because we were out of juice...i knew this wasn't a good idea, seeing as to how she has been running fever....
-ella puked curdled milk all over me today...me, and my boots.
-put on chapstick...it was wet for some reason.
-remembered seeing griffin get the chapstick off the mantle and apply it to his face.....
-realized that griffin must have applied some chapstick to his mouth....the inside part.
-my carpet and my boots still stink...
-glad that randy made it home safely.
-because randy is home now, i got to take a normal shower tonight...the kind where my hair AND skin were able to get clean.
-over all, a good day....minus the pee and puke....but really, i have to minus that from almost every day truth be told.... :)

love languages revisited...

so i have not read the book 5 love languages.  after all, why would someone who clearly speaks them all really need to read about them?  my logic may or may not be flawed, but it has sparked a rather amusing conversation between randy and myself.

for whatever reason, we were discussing this 5 love language thing a couple of months ago.  i told him that i thought my love language was acts of service.  i felt this was my love language because it seems to me that i would definitely feel more loved if someone, say, randy for instance, mopped the floor or cleaned the kitchen.  he proceeded to tell me that that was not my love language at all.  that my love language was quality time.  hmm, i thought.  i guess so.  i do like to spend time with randy.  it must be my love language.

the next day as I was doing the dishes, i began to think about our conversation.  i started to laugh.  it was funny to me that i thought i had a love language and randy corrected me on what my love language was.  suddenly, what i heard him say in my head was, dezra, you want to spend time with me...you do not like it when i do acts of service.  by then i was literally laughing out loud at the sink.  of course he would say that!  who wouldn't?!?!

so then it came up again last week.  i started laughing at the observation i had made and told him why i thought it so funny.  he said to me, "since i'm the one who actually read the book, i think you should know that you speak your love language by being this way yourself."  in other words,  if acts of service was indeed my love language, i would always be preforming acts of service...............(very long pause)...........................................oh.  yeah, my love language is quality time, you are right.  i don't like preforming acts of service.  i don't like it at all.  

sleep deprivation

i've determined that i may be suffering from sleep deprivation.  here are some of the signs that have led me to such a diagnosis.

-it took me 3 minutes to think of the word deprivation.
-it took me another minute and a half to spell it.
-i tried to unscrew the lid on my toothbrush instead of the lid of my toothpaste....because i do not have a lid on my toothbrush, this resulted in my being freaked out momentarily.
-i can drink a cup of coffee, hot tea, and/or a soda right before bed, and still fall asleep within seconds.
-i wake up almost every morning having no recollection of getting into bed.
- i often fall asleep on the couch after dinner while all 4 children yell, wrestle, and jump on/around me.
-i stare at people speaking to me.  i hear what they are saying, but i cannot understand a word.
-i try to put dishes in the fridge, and milk in the pantry.
-when i fall asleep on the couch with the kids all around me.....i actually get to the state of sleep where i dream.
-i can make a bottle, sippy cup, change a diaper, and dispense tylenol without ever opening my eyes.  wait, that can't be good.  never  mind about the tylenol thing.  you never read that.

the one thing...

i've never felt in competition with people around me.  this is mostly because i'm not competitive.  i don't care if you play sports, any sports, better than i do.  and while i wish i were a better housekeeper....it isn't something to be jealous over.  i've come to terms with the fact that i do not possess the gene that says, "clean that up before you go to bed!" and while i wish i could sew or crochet the wonderful things that some of my friends do....i have also come to realize that my lack of attention to detail, or care for that matter,  prevents me from doing these things well.  oh the yarn i have purchased before coming to terms with this.  i will post a picture of my gigantic hat or lopsided blankets and scarves sometime, for all who want a good laugh.  but for now, i will continue writing on the one thing that seems to be getting under my skin as it relates to comparison to other people.

 i struggle with my cooking.  i like my cooking, but often, my family does not.  which could mean one of two things.  either i do not make good food,  or my family has bad taste buds.  i realize some of my own challenges/laziness could be reasons for my food not always working out.  for one, as a general rule, i prefer to use recipes that call for around 6 ingredients or less....preferably the less.  too many ingredients make me feel out of control, and like i'm about to embark on a journey that i do not have time to finish.  the other problem may very well be that i struggle to follow directions exactly.  i tend to get bored or distracted when reading a long instruction....it's possible i should be on medication for this.  another issue i've noticed is that after cooking something a few times, i tend to forget things, thus making the outcome not as yummy as it once was.  for instance, i use to make delicious chicken enchiladas with sour cream sauce.  it wasn't until recently i realized that the recipe calls for pecans, onions, and cumin....all things i have accidentally stopped putting into the enchiladas over the years.  and then i wonder why no one wants to eat them anymore....um, because they have gradually become almost tasteless perhaps???

all this to say, i would love to be an awesome cook....  i spend hours a day in the kitchen cooking.  since we have been homeschooling hudson and olivia, i even cook something for lunch most days.  i make dinner every night that we are home...which is about 6 nights a week.  i actually really enjoy it!  and yet, i feel my food is inferior to many of my dear friends.  sure, i make good brownies.  i really know how to pick the box out at the grocery store!  i do add a little somethin' somethin' to them that makes them special...but i just pick a bag of it up at the store as well.  i only say this about my brownies because any time i talk about my cooking...those seem to be the shining star in my recipe repertoire.


on a side note, i have become quite faithful to the gym.  almost every day i go...and yes, i even run.  i am running a mile!  it's big for me.....don't laugh.  i can do it without breathing hard or my side hurting, too!  but even with my new found discipline, i am not losing weight.  in fact, i think i've gained a few lbs.  i'm pretty sure it is because i eat cookies before i go....so as to not get hungry at the gym.  and then i eat cookies after i get home from the gym...you know, because i'm almost hungry from working out.  i guess i make good cookies, too.  well, at least they are to me.

"reasons" i don't always go to the gym.

"reasons" i don't always go to the gym.

-i have no clean socks....which also serves as an annoying reminder that i need to do laundry.
-i cook with a giant iron skillet almost every day...who needs weights?
-i run up my stairs at least 50 times a day because i forgot what i needed when i went up there in the first place.
-my wrist hurts....probably a running injury.
-the gym smells weird...like plastic and rubber or something.
-time stands still when i'm there....i don't like it when time stands still....
-i have no clean gym pants...which again serves as an annoying reminder that i need to do laundry.
-i hate how i run and run, but never get any where...
(i don't really run and run...i kind of just sort of run for a short time)
-my cheap earphones shock me when i plug them into the treadmill.
-i feel like it goes against how we were created to keep our bodies in shape...which was to work the land....i need some land to work....i don't really like being outside though...
-i don't want to pull any muscles.
-all those mirrors bother me.
-i can't find a rubber band for my hair.

i am aware these are not real reasons, but rather excuses.  blech...

when it's possible that your babies are too close together...

you know your babies may be too close together when:
-you call them "the babies" and they are not twins.
-they can share pacifiers.
-they can share diapers.
-the babies have to wait in line to get their diaper changed.
-they can share sippy cups.



-you have not had a good night's sleep in almost 3 years....4 1/2 if you count pregnancy.
-you do the math to make sure they are not going to be in the same grade.
-you foresee breaking them of the paci at the same time.



-you are able to buy the same car seat for the younger one that you bought for the older one because the store still sells the same make and model....in the same color.
-you never stopped using the diaper bag between children.
-the maternity clothes were still hanging in the closet.



-you are confident they will be able to share a car when they turn 16.
-you get to laugh at children walking like drunken sailors one right after another.
-you get to hold another brand new baby in your arms sooner when they are close together.
-about the time one kid grows out of the cute toddler talk...you have another one to replace it.
-you get to see the wonder of the christmas tree lights with two little ones at the same time.
-you get to watch them dance together.



-you have two children that will sing and dance with you at the same time.  instead of one that thinks you're cool and another that has outgrown your silly shenanigans.
-you can use baby food you didn't use the first time around...but kept just in case.  i'm kidding...

it's hard work, i'm exhausted most of the time.  but my goodness, these babies are a lot of fun!

the great real or fake debate

well, the christmas tree is up.  we have a fake tree.  i use to be ashamed of my fake trees, but now i have the most beautiful fake tree on the planet....so i'm not ashamed anymore.  well, i am a little....i have a strand of lights that are out.  and like everything else, do i really want to replace something that i just have to sell in a few months? not really, as i am a very practical person...so i will just have a strand of lights out.   it's a pre lit tree....thus the noticeable strand.

the fake tree was one of those marital compromises.  i had grown up with a fake tree for most of my childhood, where i seem to remember an ongoing "discussion" between my mom and dad over fake verses real....my dad seemingly the winner.  but as a teenager i recall real trees. well, real trees until my mom had this unbelievable skin reaction to something in the house which we eventually narrowed down to the real christmas tree.  since then they've been using a silver tree that has lights shining on it, and is quite another story for another day.

 anyway, when we got married, i was determined to make real christmas trees the tradition.  i had high hopes.  but i did not have the ability to carry heavy things....like, oh, say, christmas trees.  and randy was diabolically opposed to the real christmas tree.  something about needles on the floor and it turning brown and some other mumbo jumbo.  he refused.  and so, being the wonderful and submissive wife that i am,  i bought some horrible looking 5 foot fake tree for our first christmas.  and used it again for the 2nd.  and again for the 3rd.  finally we had hudson and i was resolved that he would experience the joys of a beautiful real tree.  i begged randy for days, and weeks, and eventually we made it to some builders supply place that was the only store in the county left with a real tree.  it was ugly.  it was short.  it was crooked.  it was not at all what i had hoped.  i vacuumed needles endlessly.  it took me forever to get a certain someone to get it out of my house once christmas was over.  it was very dead.  it didn't take apart into 3 pieces....so i could not take down by myself.  the choice was clear.  i either had to buff up and develop the muscle strength to both get my real tree in the house and back out....or i had to succumb to the fake tree fate that i was so obviously destined for.

i'm happy to say that 7 years ago, upon the purchase of my beautiful, 9 foot tall, pre lit tree.   i embraced the fake tree christmas.   there has been peace in our home.  there are no needles to vacuum.  i can take the tree down myself the day after new years......and i do.