An Imagined Life

       I've been missing my dad something fierce since Spring. Spring has a tendency to do this- everything is coming back to life, except my dad. When the green buds break through the earth, the trees burst back to life, and you start seeing people outside again, it is just a reminder. A reminder of the things my daddy no longer sees or does.

        Old men mowing their lawns break my heart. Why can't my dad be an old man mowing his lawn? What would he look like as an old man? How would he have spent his retirement years?

       Motorcycles break my heart. They also send me into a panic. I feel like I must protect this rider but then I also feel like I have to get far far away because with every car that passes him by I can imagine the impact. I worry no one sees him except me and that any second he will be hit and gone, in an instant, without warning.

        New construction breaks my heart. My dad always wanted a nice house. He would love mine. I bet he would have moved into my neighborhood. One of those new houses could have been his. What would life have been like with him across the street? How would our relationship have changed? Would I love it? What kind of relationship would my kids have with him? Would we have family dinners together? I want him to live across the street damn it!

      I can't stop the constant flood of thoughts, questions, and dreams of what his life could have been. I can't even begin to list the things that conjure him, it is endless. It is like he is constantly there but not and sometimes that is comforting and sometimes it is so very frustrating.

      I find myself imagining the "What If" and that, my friend, can drive you insane. But sometimes you need it I suppose. Everyone grieves in their own way, in their own time. And the stages of grief, well they are random, and they come and go. Once you think you've passed one well there it is again.

     The life that I've imagined my dad would currently be living is a great one. Maybe it would have happened, maybe it wouldn't have but I will never know. So I'm sure I will continue to dream his life out for him and try not to be so sad it isn't true.

Info Overload

I'm so over loaded I don't even know how to start this blog.... but it starts sitting in an empty waiting room for three hours staring at ugly artwork and mismatched chairs. Sitting and thinking...

ADHD, there it is. This is what I heard coming out of a Doctor's mouth yesterday. Followed by an explanation of just how difficult my child was to test and even though she is not a "jump on board with meds" kinda person, in his case she thinks it would be very beneficial. Then off to said waiting room for 3 hours while she continued to test Wyatt. Hmmm, maybe she could have saved that morsel of information for the end of the appointment. And perhaps my book choice wasn't the best... House Rules by Jodi Picoult.

This diagnosis was not really an official one yet and there is still continued testing to rule out a mild form of Aspergers (this is where the poor book choice comes in). The only reason I know about her impending diagnosis is before she started testing I told her I'd like to have a few words, that there have been some behavior changes since we started this process. I went on about the crazy non-stop antics and how I felt like the worst mom just failing all around. Failing Wyatt, failing Levi, glad Lucy wasn't old enough to realize just how much I am failing yet, failing...

She proceeded to tell me that she is going to diagnose ADHD and has been waiting for me to come in to tell her all of this information. That she knew from the first day of talking and testing that I would. And she threw in there that I wasn't failing but it didn't seem all that convincing coming from a Dr who has met me all of 4 times and has never even seen my other children. And I know I'm not failing horribly- but we all expect better from ourselves and I feel like I am just so far away from where I should be... and being the perfectionist and over achiever that I am anything less then perfection, well that is failing.

I just think there are all these signs that I missed for so long, what else am I over-looking? The very first appointment with her made me start to look with clearer eyes at our life. There were so many things I said were not affecting our lives but really they were. It happened so gradually we slowly changed the way we did things and it just felt normal. Even since yesterday when she said ADHD I'm already seeing things I didn't necessarily see before and thinking " OH! that does make sense now!" (Perhaps I'm just easily persuaded... would someone please tell me I have perfect angel children so I can start seeing that?!)

Anyways, I came home ready to Google ( you know I LOVE me some Google)- diet changes, medications, schedules, charts, behavior plans, vitamins, etc... there has to be a ton of information out there but the Dr gave me none, not a thing- just a " Hey I've decided your son has ADHD and here is a name of a neurologist to make an appt with..." But Google is not my friend on this topic because Google has too much info. I don't know where to start. I don't know what is legitimate. Why can't it be as easy as stalking out an address? That I am good at. Heck, I found my long lost brother with only a name, a general area, and remembering he was a fireman once. I found his cell phone number in township meeting minutes! Stalking I can do- research apparently not. If it was research for someone else I bet that would be easier too.... I'm over thinking perhaps...

I'm a problem solver, that is what I do. I pinpoint the problem, I come up with a solution, and I implement steps to ensure resolution. I don't know what is exactly the problem- does one thing effect another? What is the root? Do you change one thing at a time or everything at once? So I can't come up with a solution or even start a plan.

So now my secondary problem is that I don't know how to gather information on dealing with ADHD. My resolution is having the needed info, so my solution- well that is this blog, to clear my head and solicit advise from you and a call to our Primary Care Doctor is in order for Monday....staking her out on Facebook like I want is probably not a good idea...(and yes of course I've found her but I will not message or hit that friend request button)

Now you, please info overload me.... I need valid reliable sources, forget all of Google's sources- I pick you- now GO!

The Ties That Bind

Siblings, they should be your forever friends.  Understandably, you are not going to get along all the time but these are the people that pretty much have the closest view on what life is like for you, they are there through all the ups and downs, usually experiencing them with you. I'm lacking in that close sibling bond. Probably becasue I wasn't raised with any of my siblings, most of my life I was an only child.

I knew when I had children it would be that- children. I wanted my kids to have a brother or a sister, perhaps both, so there would always be one person in the world they could turn to when it felt like the world was caving in on them, when they were so excited they wanted to shout news from the roof tops, or even when they were just bored.

My kids are kids, they fight, they bicker, they push each others buttons. But they also (occasionally) help each other out and are genuinely concerned about one another. Wyatt has an appointment every week and he gets a piece of candy afterwards and he always picks out something for Levi and Lucy. Each one of them has their own special ways of showing their love.

By no means am I saying I have angel children who are each others best friends 24/7 and get along perfectly. In fact my kids can probably quote my " Your brother/sister is your best friend for life and you need to get along now so you will be friends when you are older" speech becasue I have given (okay ranted) it so many times, mostly in the car. The car seems to be a breeding ground for sibling fights. I don't think there is a car on the planet big enough to keep kids from arguing in it if they are there long enough.

Anyways, this summer has been especially trying in our household. We've been going through a lot with Wyatt's behavior so it has been affecting everyone, making for some tense days.

This morning started like too many this summer have.... " Can I please play My Sims?" followed by running down the stairs, the TV turning on, and a wail.... " Why do you always get the TV, go in the backroom. My favorite stuff is on THIS TV...."
I'm so done with this fight that I just stayed in bed. There is no happy resolution to this particular fight even though we have 3 TV's they both want the living room one no matter what so I figure I'll just let them work it out and they seem to, it gets quiet.

Later on the way home from the gym I hear the same argument only this time Wyatt has his finger on his seat belt ready to pop it and run inside before Levi can get out since he has the window seat. So Levi covers Wyatt's seat-belt release keeping him from leaving. There they are in the car, fighting about who can get out first so they can have control of the TV, but no one is actually getting out. The crying, screaming, mean tones... that was it- I was done. No letting them work it out or sibling best friend speech is going to solve this!

"NO ONE GETS THE TV!" I roar because face it- we can't all be Michelle Dugger calm all the time!

In the house they both find there way to the couch crying. I stood there staring at them, it was like I was watching their future- the one where they aren't friends and they hate each other- one of my worst nightmares. What have I done to let this rift form between them and how can I fix it? I stood there for about 5 minutes staring, thinking about every option I could consider on how to build some teamwork between them. I'm certain they thought I was just a crazy person standing there like that. I went through so many scenarios I will spare you all of them except the one I went with- yarn.

The ties that bind right? Why can't that be literal? I grabbed a skein of yarn, snipped a section off and told them to give me their wrists. At first they thought I was joking becasue they were not going to give up their wrists. I tied nice little bows ( double knotted and extra tight- but pretty!) and told them they would stay like this until they could get along and work together.

Immediately fighting ensued. It was actually quite comical and I so should have broke out the video camera, I did snap the picture below. Levi decided they were going upstairs so he picked Wyatt up and threw him off the couch onto the floor. Wyatt started crawling away. All this was doing was making the yarn tighter and tighter. They are crying and saying it hurts so I tell them to move closer together- nope, the refuse. They cried and fought for about 30 minutes before they realized their plan of action was getting them nowhere but a sore wrist.

I made them eat lunch tied together. Even though Wyatt didn't want to eat he had to sit there with Levi. Holding a cup to drink with the hand tied to the other person was risky but they did it. I told them if one of them made the others drink spill they would both clean it because for now they were one person.

After lunch they fought some more about what to do and where to do it. Finally, they agreed to play a video game together. I wanted to veto the video game but it took them about an hour to get to this decision so I let it go.

It was peaceful. I heard them up there talking and getting along as they worked together to finish a couple missions. So when they came downstairs after about 30 minutes and asked if they could cut the string I said okay, after you hug of course. A quick "oh my gosh, she is making us hug" hug and they were free.

After that they both agreed who would get what TV and went off to their own things. Later in the car a small disagreement started. I simply said " do you want me to get some yarn?" and like that problem solved- there was no argument. And so far this evening there hasn't been anymore fights- which is fantastic becasue it has been like Armageddon around here this summer with them. I may start carrying a piece of yarn with me at all times.

Short-term my plan has worked. I hope that long term my master plan works because I want so badly for my children to always always always be each others confidant and that they won't need actual ties to bind them.

LOUD TALKERS

So this afternoon I was sitting with Lucy in the waiting room of Wyatt's counselors office. There is an older gentleman there waiting as well. The room is silent. I'm reading about the hottest celeb bodies thinking I wish I could airbrush all of my pictures as well and Lucy is killing Mario and Luigi over and over and over. Then, BAM " HELLO THIS IS GERALD. YES, I CAN'T FIND MY CONSUMERS BILL......." The older gentleman is on his cell phone and he is a loud talker (and an over-sharer).



Loud talkers make me crazy and if you are one, and my friend, I will let you know. If you are one and a stranger well I will glare at you because I haven't worked up the nerve yet to say anything and really I try not to be that person anyways. You may be one of those people who wouldn't think twice about telling someone to quiet down- well after this blog you might.

I didn't say anything to Gerald or give him any glares. I figured he is old, probably can't hear well and the big sign in front of him saying shut you cell phones off- well I'll just pretend he didn't see it.

Our friend Gerald just kept making phone calls and suddenly the "you could hear a pin drop" silence was interrupted by his booming voice. I wasn't paying attention to him so every time it happened it would startle me. I learned a lot about Gerald. He just got out of the hospital yesterday after being admitted for 20 days. In this time period he didn't pay any of his bills and had lost them. He went to bed at 8pm last night and slept until 10am. He also had a paper that he needed to send back to keep his health care benefits but he couldn't find it either. He was in the hospital for gastroenteritis, and man it was bad until they figured it out.... I know his address, his phone number, his health insurance number... ok well they have fallen out of my brain but you know....

Not only was he a loud talker and over-sharer on the phone but he was filling out new patent forms and every time he went up to the counter, " BLAH, BLAH, BLAH..." This is where the interesting information came out. He is a retired school employee, he doesn't have a next of kin, that would be becasue his family abandoned him and moved to Florida, won't have any contact with him at all, not even an address and he doesn't know why, he saw the same Doctor from 1970 something until 2001, he has been to 3 different counseling offices recently, the last one- well the therapist there told him he was homicidal and didn't want to be his therapist in fear he'd kill him, he has a cat with a ....What? Back that up... homicidal?

Gee, I have no idea why Gerald's family would hide out in FL away from him? And wow, so glad I kept my mouth shut and my glares down! I sure hope Gerald's appointments don't fall on the same day/time as Wyatt's again I may know to keep my mouth shut but someone else might not and I don't want to be in attendance for that!

Working out the Quirks

Hi, my name is Becky and I have a quirky kid. Or at least I thought he was just quirky until someone said IT out loud... that "IT" was, "Perhaps you should have him tested for Aspergers and whatnot..."

Hi, my name is Becky and I have an obsessive personality.... So saying things like I think your kid is more then just quirky and you should get him checked out, well that sends me into a non-stop thinking, speculating, evaluating every thing the child does kinda spiral. And to top it off the counselor told me to GOOGLE! Good Lord, have you met me- that is the worst possible thing to say to me, okay well " I think your kid is on the spectrum" was worse but ya know...

So now I've googled and read a bunch of the same info with slight differences. Why can't there just be a checklist? A "if your kids does this and this and this your in otherwise nope." No, it can't be that easy, and yes, I am thankful for the could be lableing of my child, that the evaulation is much more in depth but I want to know and I want to know NOW. I have my gut feelings and things I have thought but didn't want anyone else to think as well. I just want a professional in this field to tell me one way or the other.

Today the Dr asks questions like, "what do you think about _________?" Well now I don't know! Maybe what I thought was just a little quirk my kid has is what other people see as this blatantly obvious sign that something is different about him. ( Typing that sentence was difficult- how to word it? I don't want to say wrong with him or abnormal, etc...if he is on the spectrum it won't make him any different to us, definitely not flawed in anyway. Hopefully, it will just help us learn how to deal with these few behaviors that are starting to negatively impact our lives.)

So testing with a Neurologist is scheduled for a month from today. We are told to block out the whole afternoon for it. We have blood work to get done prior to to check for any deficiencies etc... Right now we don't really know what we are looking for- even though Aspergers and Autism were the main words thrown out there to quote the counselor " we are just throwing everything at the wall to see what sticks."

I'm hoping to hear "you just have a quirky kid." But, I'd also like some useful ways to make things better for him. As much as his bug phobia and sensory integration issues bother us, I am certain it is way worse for him and I feel bad that I am so annoyed by it- even more now that all of this info has been thrown at me ( even though it is really a lack of info at the moment).

I had told my friends at the beginning of the summer that we had a lot of stuff to work on with Wyatt over the summer- not school stuff- he is great on that- just behavior stuff. At the time I had no idea it would be getting this involved but this must be the right timing.

Here is to a summer of discovery and hopefully the beginning of understanding this quirky little genius child, Wyatt.

Remember Stan and Make a Plan

May 18th should be my dad's 54th Birthday, but he never got past 46, so in honor of him I am again blogging my Victims Impact Speech. Please pass this link on in memory of him on what should be the day he is celebrating his birthday... it is quite lengthy and has a tendency to make people cry...so make sure ya have at least10 mins and a couple tissues. I give this speech nearly every month to a group of ppl sentenced to attend for DUI, MIP, etc.....

On October 9, 2003, I was a different person then I am today. I was having the best year of my life. I had just got married, just found out I was pregnant; the next day was going to be my last one at work-shifting to stay at home mom (I already had a 2 year old, Levi). I went to bed early that night, ecstatic- nothing was going to bring me down. Or so I thought.

But on that evening, my dad, Stan Williams, was hit by a drunk driver. He was on his motorcycle and the drunk driver was in a dually 1 ton truck.

My dad loved motorcycles. He had ridden them since 15 or maybe even younger. The summer of 2003 he had swapped out the front end making his Heritage Softail into a Springer Softail. He had only had it back a few weeks. That October was unseasonably warm. And October 9th was one of those beautiful days. My dad spent that morning helping to put a new roof on his house. When he went to leave for work that afternoon his bike wouldn't start and he almost took his truck but on that last attempt it started. I wish it wouldn't have.

He got out of work at 10:30 and was headed home, but by 10:40 a 911 call was out. My phone started ringing a little after 11 but I had already went to bed and had the ringer upstairs turned off. I never go to bed before midnight but that day I did and so did my husband. I feel so guilty for sleeping thru the calls. But at 2 am cops were banging on my door. I woke up my husband; he looked out the window and said it was the cops. Strangely, I didn't think anything of it. I stayed upstairs but was standing by my bedroom door. I heard bits and pieces. Rebecca live here? Her dad…accident…Hurley. I shut the bedroom door. I knew because of the weather he had taken his motorcycle. I started getting dressed. I was deciding who to call at 2 am to leave my son with. My husband came up stairs and told me everything would be all right. I knew it wouldn't. As soon as I had heard the cop say "her dad" I knew it wasn't alright. I went into zombie mode. We dropped my son with my in-laws and headed to Hurley as fast as we could. When we got to the hospital it was like the building was abandoned. We couldn't find anyone. Finally we walked past a waiting room and I saw my grandma on the phone. She sugar-coated it for me and told me he was in surgery. They took us to a huge, but empty waiting room. A nurse popped in occasionally but really had nothing to say. I was filled with questions.

I kept wondering what had happened. I knew my dad was a cautious rider; he wasn't some kid out for a joyride. He was a responsible rider who had been on a motorcycle most of his life. I didn't think it was a purposeful act such as someone who had been drinking decided to drive and put others at risk, Just an accident, a horrible accident. But I was wrong. This was no accident and I will not say my dad was killed in an accident. He was killed in a crash by a drunk driver. Accidents can't be prevented. Choosing to drink and drive then killing someone that can be prevented.

As I was sitting in that waiting room thank God I didn't know what had really happened. A man who was only thinking about himself that night turned left into a bar right in front of my dad. There we no skid marks from my dad's Harley. He didn't even have a chance to try to avoid it. As he lay on the street dying the man who hit him didn't go over to check on him. He ran to a van in a parking lot to hide his beer bottles underneath. He left my dad lying on Davison road, dying. Thankfully, others stopped to help. In court I heard one of the men testify that he tried to help my dad so he didn't choke on his own blood. All the witness accounts were that they new he was really bad off.

But lets go back to the hospital at about 3:30 am. The nurse came in and told us if we went to a hallway we would be able to see him for a moment. He was out of surgery but still had some internal bleeding they couldn't find the cause of so he was going for a test and we could see him as they rushed by. Waiting in the hallway I was preparing myself as best I could, but I was no way prepared for what I saw. Had I not been told that this was my dad, I would not have believed them. He was so swollen from going into shock, they couldn't even close up after the surgery so they had some special covering for the opening in his stomach. He looked as if he was pregnant and he was by no means a big man. He was so pale from the loss of blood, tubes and blood everywhere, it wasn't my dad, it was a man I didn't recognize lying on a gurney dying. But it was him. We only had a few seconds to see him. I yelled down the hall "I love you daddy, don't go." I can't get that image of him out of my head.

Then, they moved us into a different waiting room- a small one with a door. The Dr's kept coming in telling us how bad he was. There was talk about if they could save his legs but I wasn't concerned about that. Forget about his legs, save his life I kept thinking. My mom was obsessed with the saving of the legs, she was just not comprehending that wasn't the real issue. I remember bits and pieces, blood he needs blood, but he isn't clotting, he need platelets, broken bones, surgery, more tests… one nurse told us "he is the sickest person in the whole hospital right now."

In the waiting room was myself and my husband, he was feeling helpless as I was lost in my zombie world telling him that I just knew my dad wasn't going to make it. My mom was talking about saving his legs, my grandma had her rosary out praying, my uncle was sitting at a table with his head down, my aunt was scared and angry. Then at 10 to 6, two Doctors walked in. All the other times it was just one so I knew. I don't recall what they said, what they looked like, even if they were male or female. I just knew. I heard crying, " no, no" being repeated. And just horrible, horrible sobbing. I couldn't be in the room, I couldn't hear that. I ran out to the hallway and just fell on the floor sobbing and a nurse came and told me I couldn't cry there. My husband scooped me up and took me to the room the elevators were in and shut that door. I threw-up in a garbage can. They say we either have fight or flight, I went with flight. I had to leave the hospital right then. I didn't want to stay and wait until he was cleaned up so I could see him. I needed to leave, as if it wouldn't be true if I wasn't there. I made sure someone would drive my mom home and I left.

On the way out of the hospital I was still crying and watching people walk by me, they have no idea what has just happened. I kept thinking, how can they just walk by? We got to my in-laws and at the door my mother in law said "so" and my husband just shook his head. She hugged me. I didn't want to leave their house. Again my flight, I thought if I am here it isn't real. I laid in their bed just in a daze, I couldn't sleep but I couldn't move either. My son Levi woke up and I heard him in the other room- his first word that morning was "papa" almost as if he had seen him, and I believe he did. I finally called a few friends and that is when I heard it- I heard myself telling my friends that my dad was dead. I couldn't talk anymore after that.

My sister had come from Lansing to go to my moms and bring her to my house so I had to leave to meet them there. I made my husband go home first and pick up our pajamas and clear all the "go to the hospital" messages off the machine. Again, I wanted to pretend it wasn't true.

When my sister was at our mom's she gave her a bag that the hospital had given her of my dad's belongings…this is a quote from a letter my sister wrote to the judge about that bag…

"My mother handed me a plastic bag full of items and ran away crying.I slowly opened the bag to find his work clothes covered in blood, one shoe, a wallet, and his wedding ring.My first thought was shock and panic when I saw only one shoe in the bag.All I could think of at that moment was "What horrible thing had this person done to Stan to only leave one shoe in the bag."My heart felt such pity and despair for the painful injuries that my stepfather had to endure before he died.I then picked up the wallet, opened it, and began to go through it.There I found business cards and money completely stained brown.It took me a few seconds to realize that those brown stains were from my beloved stepfather's blood!All I could do after that was cry, and feel utterly helpless.I asked myself "What complete suffering had Stan experienced at the hands of this man?"What wounds had he inflicted that had caused Stan's blood to soak thru his clothes, permeate a leather wallet, and finally congeal on the money and business cards."


The injuries that my dad sustained were broken bones, too may to mention but some of the bones such as his legs were thru the skin, his liver was nicked, spleen removed, teeth knocked out, the fatal injury and cause of all the internal bleeding was a 2 inch tear in his heart from impact. The Doctors told us they thought he should have died at the scene but he fought for about 6 ½ hours and died at 5:20am on October 10, 2003.
 
That week I was in a daze but I have distinct memories burned in my mind forever. I had to help plan a funeral, pick out his suit, we had to decide if he looked good enough for an open casket, walk around a cemetery and pick out his grave, plan what I would say at his funeral, and say my last good-byes. At the funeral home before I saw him for the first time I had to be told what to expect, the crash had banged his face up quite a bit. I will never forget turning the corner into that room it is as if a snapshot forever suck in my head forever. To see your father in a casket, someone who was healthy and happy just days before, I can't even put into words how that feels. But I can tell you this it literally hurts, a pain in your chest as if you heart is literally breaking. When people say they have a hole in their heart it isn't just an emotional feeling but a physical one as well. It's like you can't breathe or you can't swallow, and you can't make it stop.

That pain stayed for a long time, and I can still feel it, it just isn't as constant now. Things don't get better; you just learn how to deal with them. Life never returns to normal, you learn to live with your new "ab-normal life."

The funeral… Sunday thru Wednesday was spent at the funeral home… We had 4 days of visitation which if you have ever had someone close to you die you know is a long time. Tues was my uncles birthday and we couldn’t bury his brother on it. I spent most of this time in the foyer. Every time I would walk into the room and see my dad in a casket it was like I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t bear to see him in a casket. I couldn’t even touch him.

I spoke at his funeral, it was a time to say goodbye, but how do you say goodbye to someone so important, so spectacular? I told a story of the last time I had seen him alive. We had lunch and he was wearing a shirt he wore a lot, one that used to steal out of his closet occasionally and now hangs in mine. That day a button was missing and I teased him about it. His reply was “I know it is gone but I thought I’d just try to make it work.” So at his funeral that is how I said my goodbye…I said, I know you are gone but I am going to try to make it work…

I have tried and I am still trying, it took me about 6 months to even remotely start to feel better plus I was pregnant and had all those crazy emotions going on. I just laid on the couch. I let my son watch TV all day. I didn't get dressed, I hardly ate, I actually lost weight, I couldn't sleep at night. I would play solitaire on the computer all night. It took me a long time to fall asleep before 2. It sounds crazy but I feel guilty for being asleep while my dad was fighting for his life. And when it is dark and quite that's when my brain would reliving every detail. Every injury, everything I heard in court, the nightmares I've had, what I am missing out on, what my kids are missing out on, who is going to die next, how helpless I feel, that I could loose anyone I love at anytime.

For awhile I couldn’t give people directions or ask my husband to stop and pick something up. I thought what if he stops somewhere for me and because of that he is in the wrong place at the right time and I lose him too. If he was even 5 mins late coming home from work I’d be in tears.

After my second son was born I had to stop nursing him so I could take anti depressants because I wasn’t functioning. I was trying I was really trying. I even went to counseling once a week.

But, you see, it wasn’t just having to deal with his death. It was also court dates that drug on for years, and seeing the man that killed him repeatedly as he tried to blame my dad simply because he was on a motorcycle so that meant he had to be reckless. Then, to see him sit and chat with his family as if nothing in his world changed that night. It was knowing he went to his daughter’s graduation and his sons sports; that they could hug him at any moment and being so angry that he got to do all those things and I never get to see my dad again.

It is also the new found role as caretaker to my mother. She has a brain injury and my dad took care of everything for her. With him gone that all fell on me.

I get it, I know people die and I knew more then likely my parents would die before me. But I never thought it would be so soon, he was only 46. I should have had more time. And one of the hardest parts is knowing how he died, every injury and how painful and traumatic his death was. If you ever think about losing a loved one I am sure you hope they go in their sleep or some peaceful painless way. Not having their body broken and then left on the road.

It took me a little over five years but I have finally driven down Davison Road between Center and Genesee where he was killed. I had avoided it. I mean how could I just drive over the spot where my father lost this life? It isn’t a road I will drive down whenever, but now I at least know I can.

I live in Davison so I drive past Center and Genesee road on an almost daily basis. For about a year after my dad was killed every time I was on any road between Genesee and Center I would just cry and think how he never made it to the next intersection.

It is the everyday things that hit the hardest, holidays are hard but for me I stay busy and that helps. But it is times when I hear a song, see a face in a crowd, go past a place I have a memory of my dad at. I have a hard time looking at pictures and home videos. My dad was engulfed in every part of my life and I can't just take him out because he isn't here, it isn't that easy.


My dad and I always had a tradition of going out to lunch together on Sundays after church. That was what I looked forward to the most. And one of the things I miss the most now. Sunday afternoons are always hard now. It was our "catch-up" time since we worked opposite shifts. We blabbed about everything and nothing. And on October 5, 2003, we had our last Sunday dinner. Had I known it was the last, I would have never let him go, I would have asked a million more questions, I would have hugged and kissed him more, well there are too many I would haves to mention them all.

My oldest son Levi, was 2 when my dad was killed. My dad was crazy about him. My dad had told me he wanted a boy, someone to help with the yard work he would joke. Levi doesn't remember being with his papa he only remembers the stories I have told him.

Then there is Wyatt. I was pregnant with him when my dad was killed. He has my dad’s middle name and initials inverted. Wyatt won’t have any memories of his grandpa and none I can tell him. And my dad and Wyatt would have been best buds for sure. My dad loved video games and Wyatt is a video game addict. He can beat entire games on his own and he is 4yrs old.

And now I have a little girl Lucy, there are no memories of her and her papa for me to share with her either.

So we get balloons and on the day of his death and his birthday we have dinner at his favorite restaurant and we let balloons go from the cemetery. Those are the memories my kids get of their grandpa. And he would have been a spectacular grandpa. I don’t know about you but I have a TON of memories with my grandparents and my kids don’t get that. That makes me not only sad but angry.

Angry that because one person thought more of themselves then anyone else on this planet, my family's lives have to completely change. Someone who had had previous alcohol related driving issues and knew the consequences but choose to chance fate anyways. That makes me angry. Will my anger go away. I don't know, I don't know if I want it to. What I want more then anything is my dad back. That's not possible so I wanted justice, I didn't really get that either. So now I want to make a difference.

My dad’s favorite group was Kansas. At his funeral that is the only music we played. A line from a song is “When my life starts to fade, I can only hope that every choice I’ve made will endure and carry on into the coming dawn.” I take that line to mean that my dad raised me well and since he isn’t here I have to be the person he raised me to be and to make that difference.

My husband asks me how I can do this every month. Why I would want to relive it. He can’t even read through my speech it is too hard for him. So I tell him, I don't want anyone to endure this senseless tragedy. Hopefully I made a difference to someone and my dad’s death wasn’t for nothing, he hasn’t been forgotten about.

So please learn from his death and make a plan to ensure you never drink and drive. You don't want your family to be sent home with your bloodstained clothes or have to explain to a 2 year old that Papa can't come and play. Next time you see a balloon floating away remember Levi, Wyatt, and Lucy and how that is the only way they can feel close to their papa.

Here is a LINK to a video of him. It also contains crash scene photos from the police department.

 May 18, 1957- October 10, 2003

Napkins are for faces not forks!

Napkins are for faces not forks!

So not a sentence I had ever imagined hearing at my dinner table. That is until Wyatt became the picky little thing that he is when it comes to food. It is no wonder the 6 year old child only weighs 36 lbs, his 3 year old sister weighs 32!

Wyatt doesn't like anything. Alright I may be exaggerating. It isn't that there is nothing he likes, it is that there are very few things he likes. One thing he is a pro at is letting you know just what it is he doesn't like in the most whiny and annoying way possible.

Wyatt likes noodles, pizza, cereal, eggs, oatmeal, chicken nuggets, chicken noodle soup (but only the condensed kind), and a few other things. We make him eat whatever we are having for dinner though. We at least give him very small portions and I try to make sure there is at least one dish he does like so he won't be starving.

When I make his plate I have to make sure none of his food is touching because this is a BIG deal. Ketchup on corn, how in the world could you ever choke that down? Cheese from mac n cheese touching my meatloaf- Oh no!!! Seriously, oh so annoying.

But his latest annoyance- wiping his fork off on his napkin between bites. Yes, his fork has to be completely clean before he can take a new bite. Can he clean his fork off with his mouth since it is food on it? Oh no! Ketchup on meatloaf that is fine but Ketchup on a fork- YUCK! Oh if you could only see my eyes rolling....

If there happens to be a chunk of something stuck between the fork prongs- oh my lord, the world is about to end. He has sat at the table crying becasue he couldn't get this chunk out. 1- becasue he won't just put it in his mouth, 2- becasue apparently as soon as the fork has exited his mouth anything on it is now toxic and can not even be touched by his fingers.

I was a picky eater growing up but Wyatt- well he takes the cake (or he would if it was a cake he liked and it didn't look funny (oh and cupcakes- well those don't count as cake to Wyatt, I so should do an entire blog about all his food weirdies)). And the best part of all of this.... he is passing this wonderfulness on to Lucy. So now when I clear the table there are 2 very dirty napkins- but not from faces, from forks.

I'm so sorry your clothes are clean...

Who knew being efficient was a bad thing?

Here is a snip-it of a near daily conversation between Brad and myself...

Brad- " Where are my pajama pants?"
Me- "The ones you left of the floor near the dirty clothes pile? Those are in the drier."
Brad- " Grumble, grumble....darn you and your efficiency!"

Apparently, I should decipher better which clothes amongst the ones strewn about the floor on Brad's side of the bedroom are actually in need of laundering. Forget the fact that the dirty clothes pile is a few feet away, his clothes (other then work clothes) rarely find their way there. But Murphy's Law would take over if I started sorting based on my opinion of what Brad was thinking when he took this clothes off; if I left the PJ pants then he would get a new pair without looking for yesterday's and if I washed them well then he'd want to wear them again.

I wear clothes more then once before I wash them. But I lay those clothes on my dresser- NOT on the floor. The floor is where the dog lays, it is not where I think "clean" clothes go.

Perhaps the answer to my problem is simply that I need to get that load of laundry back upstairs, folded, and put away before Brad gets home from work ( maybe even toss his PJ pants back to the floor clean then pick them up if he chooses a different pair). Or perhaps Brad should remember the days when I sucked at laundry and didn't do it until there was a mountain over taking the basement. Ya know, when he'd have to look the night before to see if he would even have clean clothes for work. Or when the laundry was run but left in a wrinkled pile in the basement and he'd have to make time to tumble them every morning. Yes, he should definitely remember those days!

And seriously Brad, if you really need that one specific pair of PJ pants, then just go get them out of the drier... it isn't like I said they are in the WASHER!

Finger Weights

I have been working my butt off for months to lose some inches around my waist. I started out in a good weight range for my height but right at the top which just isn't me. I'm the skinny girl. Okay so I haven't been "the skinny girl" in say 7 years, but that is how I was defined for so long that when I no longer was "the skinny girl" a huge part of what made me me was suddenly gone. So after quite a bit of procrastinating I jumped aboard the get fit wagon.

 (lets totally pretend this flat stretch  mark free belly belongs to me- oh wait, that tape measure says 46inches!!!! Um I'll keep my stretch marks thank you!)

In a little over two months I have lost 13 pounds (Go me!). I have been counting every calorie and hitting the gym nearly every day. But are these 13 pounds coming off from where I want them to the most, the inter tube around my waist? Not really. Okay well I guess a teeny bit. My jeans are loose but not so loose that they won't stay up and I need to drop a size.

Where has my body decided to take the pounds off of you ask.... well my fingers of course. And why not, becasue frankly everyone wants to lose some finger weight. So far in my journey there is no new clothes shopping- but rings, yep those will have to be resized.

It seems as though treadmill and elliptical workouts equal finger fat dissolution so maybe putting my fingers to work by blogging like a mad woman my waist will lose a few inches. That is good logic right?

World War Blue

I walk in to the bathroom and flip on the light. Sticky, I suddenly feel sticky. Flush the toilet, more stickiness. I turn the sink on to wash my hands and you''ll never guess it, but yep, more stickiness. As I look down there they are- the blue smears of a war. One which my bathroom has obviously lost. After I wash my hands a second time- becasue yep, turning the water off re-stickified my fingers (yes, I'm sure that is a word, from my own personal dictionary)... anyways, re washing- then, I go to dry my hands. To my dismay when I pull my hands away they are covered more so then ever in blue goo. One of my brilliant children has decided to use the back of the towel to wipe a massive amount of goo off of something...


But I live with 3 children ( and Brad) so messes like this don't get to me that easily. I wash my hands yet again then head to the cupboard to get out the cleaner and paper towel. And what else do I find but another place to make my hands sticky....

Toothpaste... a necessity, but man sometimes I wish it wasn't. But I can hear that conversation in my head already.... What is the matter Mr. Dentist? What? It doesn't look like they've been brushing their teeth? Gee I have NO idea why... couldn't be because I have banned toothpaste from the early humans in my house.... (early humans- guess you gotta see Little Fockers to get the reference). But really the way the bathroom looks I do wonder if any of the toothpaste actually makes it into their mouths.

Everytime I send those 3 monkeys to brush their teeth it is as if I did actually send monkeys... well ones that don't throw poo but toothpaste instead.

I understand that it is a big tube and the target is small, sometime you squeeze just a little harder then intended... but really, why oh why does it get as bad as it does in there on a near daily basis? And why do I keep buying them BLUE toothpaste? At least white would blend in with the counter... Ah, but there are so many different colors of the surfaces they cover with blue sticky goo that color just doesn't matter.

Part of me thinks this is my children's way of forcing me to buy the Touch and Brush that they hype up in commercials. But I am certain if I bought it, well it would be just one more surface for me to de-blueify.

My bathroom may lose the Blue War nightly. But My Clorox bleach spray and I, well we win it.... someday the war will end. And I certain that when it does I will be victorious with or without the Touch and Brush....

Seriously, Mommy is not trying to kill you!

From the second us mothers know there is a baby in our belly we become protectors. We change our lives for the good of this tiny human.

The changes are numerous- our diet, our daily activities, our clothing (ya know not wearing those heels that are just asking for a fall), we take vitamins and read books about every possible thing that could (and we think will) go wrong. We search endlessly for the perfect Dr and visit him/her as often as possible. We screen for more what ifs. Then we begin the researching and shopping. We buy safety items for every inch of our home. We check recall lists, avoiding hand me downs becasue surely it isn't safe, especially if some other baby has used it and not been injured or died.

Then this little person is born and a whole new set of worries comes along. Wash your hands don't touch the baby! Don't bounce him too hard, make sure you burp him just right. Are they eating enough? Too much? And of course the constant need to go check on this little person if they sleep for more then 10 mins. Poke, poke, are you breathing???? What was that a little cough? It doesn't matter if it is the middle of the night, I better call the Dr.

So why is it then that these miniature people repay our worry by acting like we are out to kill, injure, maim, and torture them at any given moment????

The Bathtub- Just look up honey, I swear if you look up the shampoo won't get into your eyes. Nope. No way, not gonna do it. Okay so how about you lay back in the tub and I'll hold your head to get the shampoo out.... Nope, you'll drown me, I'm sure of it... you won't hold my head... nope....Seriously child of mine....

The vacuum- a child death machine of course, that is why we use it don't you know. Yep, run baby girl becasue I am going to suck you up. I've spent near 4 years taking care of your every need, feeding you when I was too sick to get my own food, comforting you at night when I haven't had a decent nights sleep in weeks but what the heck- lets end it all now- with a vacuum....

Nail clippers- yes, I want to cut your toes off so I have to carry you around the house for the rest of your life, that sounds fun.

Toothbrushes- secretly these are made to slowly scrape your gums away until your teeth fall out.

Homework- this is our favorite form of torture- why? Oh becasue it is one that tortures us right along with you.

The list goes on and on... I know my kids love me, I know they trust me. But there are just some crazy fears that seem to supersede all the trust. I guess it is like when you are in the car with your husband, he is driving and you are freaking out becasue you know- he IS trying to kill all of you.

My Post Secret

This may not seem like a big deal to you, but it is to me....

I have stopped may daily ritual of reading the obituaries. It started when I was a kid. I guess it was the faces in the paper that drew my attention. That and I adored my grandma and she was always reading the obituaries, though she had a purpose, her friends were actually dying.

For a long while I didn't get the paper so I had " kicked the habit." Then came the internet (dun, dun, dun). My habit began again, but not daily...more like an "I'm bored lets see who died kinda thing" (hush, it makes sense to me!). I have no idea what my fascination is. The first thing I do is browse over the names and then I always look at the person's age. If they are above 70, I browse it over real quick. The younger they are the more intently I read. Sometimes the crazy person in me even put their name into the facebook search. Why, again I have no idea, I think it is well established I am a crazy person!

Anyways, after my dad died the whole ritual took on a new purpose. I couldn't miss a day of obituaries, not one. If I did then lucky me, you can search past dates, and I would. I'm a little embarrassed to say why I had to search the obituaries but here is where I let it out.... post my secret....

Drunk Driver- everyday since you killed my dad I have searched the obits for your name. When I found out you moved to a new city/state, well I started daily watching the obits there....


I don't know what I thought I'd find, relief perhaps? Probably just hoping justice would finally be served.

But I am happy to say that this is no longer my secret. Not only becasue I just told you but becasue I've stopped looking. One more tie that this man had over me is gone.

I am Free!

Dropping the ball. Errr, the soap!

I was in the shower and had a realization.... Yes, one that I can share without a TMI moment... but not quite yet. First I must pick on my Brad a bit. It isn't his favorite past time of mine but he knows it is all in love so here goes....

Like all men, my husband is oblivious. Oblivious to the laundry basket 2 inches from where he tosses his clothes, oblivious to the dishwasher sitting open after dinner waiting for plates to be fed to it, and oblivious to the child reaching for something that he just can't reach when he is again only 2 inches away. But I guess that is a gender trait- I can't fault him for it ( though I do becasue really IT IS TWO INCHES FROM YOU!!!!) I digress....

Unexpectedly, while I was in the shower I came to a realization. There are a few things, okay probably many, that I am unaware of  but are on his radar  (however, since I am perfect, everything is on my radar so I don't know what crazy I am talking : P )

Anyways, I never have to replace the soap- there is always a bar there when I go to take a shower, always. It made me think, what else in the house is just always there for me without me having to make sure it is... I came up with nothing. I'd like to joke here that my husband can do nothing but remember to change the soap. And then make another witty comment about how it is he still manages to be a stinky man when he does such a good job with the soap. Or maybe something about how  his own stink is what reminds him to get soap but I won't.... see I didn't type a thing about that!

What I will say is that I know for a fact, being the perfectionist that I think I am, I often overlook the small things Brad does for us or even the big things that I don't think are done the way I would do them. So I'll work on it Brad, I promise. Everyday when I am in the shower with my bar of soap, the one that I didn't have to be responsible for, I'll be reminded. So don't forget the soap! Because that I will surely notice!

To friend or not to friend....

I'm ready for summer to be over. I do prefer it to winter but I also love Fall oh so very much. And then there is that other summer thing- the kids home ALL day. Summer is that enjoyable yet unenjoyable time of year. Not to mention during summer I am isolated to the house or shaded areas thanks to my skin revolting against the sun... I seriously think I am so white I am glowing now...

But back to the kids- don't get me wrong I want to see my kids and I miss them when they are gone all the time with school and such but the craziness and monotony (yes, I know those are contradictory)of them here all day every day for months makes me a little crazy.

My schedule is off- I don't seem to keep up on cleaning as easily as when they are gone. Hmmm, might that have something to do with them being here trashing the house non-stop? It is defeating to clean a room and then within the hour find the more things all over again. Dinner goes in spurts of cooking and not- it is hard to plan dinner in advance when you don't know who will actually be in attendance for said meal.

Then there is the constant flow of kids in my house. And yes, IN- becasue for some reason I can't get my kids OUT of the house. I think perhaps I need to keep a less cushy home! I'm sure this is sounding like I don't want the kids friends over but that is NOT what I mean. I don't care if they are here most of the time as long as everyone is getting along.

It is just the quick run to the store isn't possible unless I send everyone home, and what a pain that is. Plus then my kids are whining becasue they just want to play and here I am dragging them to run errands. I'll have plans for the kids and myself, then a friend calls and suddenly no one wants my plan anymore, they want friends over. Maybe I am just sad they are picking friends over me?

I'm not sure why I can't say no to the constant playdates. Probably becasue in some ways it is just easier. Easier then listening to them whine about not having anything to do or why they can't play with so and so (yep, my kids friends are named so and so!) And easier then entertaining them all day on my own. I am not a get down on the floor and play with you kind of parent.

The kids summer wishlist is sadly unaccomplished. And mostly becasue friends are always here or one of my kids is gone with a friend. I guess I could figure out how to include friends in the plans but why is some family time too much to ask for? I think back to my childhood- my parents didn't make summer plans with me. Heck, I hardly even saw my parents. I spent the entire summer outside or at a friends from when I woke up until I went to bed. I'm not sure how I would have felt about plans with my parents but I think I would have been thrilled. Maybe my kids have it too good- I am too available to them. But is that even possible? To be too available? I think not. Perhaps I am projecting my childhood dreams onto my children?

So even though my kids are choosing friends over our wishlist I somehow feel guilty for not having them accomplish it anyways. I had visions of them reading and working on more school work all summer as well- but then as soon as we wake up someone is here, nothing gets done.... I didn't do school work during the summer so do they really need to? I think the problem is I am pretty good at putting myself in other people's shoes and seeing it from their point of view so I can logically see the kids POV for wanting friends over and skipping the reading. Then yes, I can see the teacher POV telling me what a disadvantage I am doing to my kids. Then back to the kids POV- what a disadvantage I am doing to them not letting them have this summer memories and build strong bonds with their friends...

Oh I could ramble on and on.... I'll stop.... I'm certain there is something I need to clean- oh and shockingly there is a kids argument going on and someone is crying.... I think it is ship you outside and lock the door time!

Where Have I Been?

My blogging is long over due. Not because I don't have anything to blog but because frankly, I have too much. There was the vacation up north with the in laws. Followed up by seriously considering buying a new house. Finding the dream house only to have it squashed by repair work needed and it already being at the top of our budget. Next was finding another house we love, making an offer, having it accepted, and listing our house for sale.

Listing our house meant crazy quick work at organizing that one room I had been putting off for months, okay you got me, years (dun, dun, dun...) the basement. And also fixing all those little things that are wrong with your house but for some reason you don't take the hour to deal with it you just put up with it. Why do we do stupid things like that? Oh I know because they are "Brad jobs" he likes to almost finish something then move on to a new task. I guess I really need to learn some "man jobs" so I can just do them and quit complaining huh?!

The big kicker and summer eater.... well that is the lovely phone call I received from members of my mother's church asking me if I " knew the situation at her trailer." Well yes, I've known the situation my entire life. But, really I didn't totally know the situation. If I had it would have been dealt with already. What is this situation? Well it is my mom's hoarding of course but with an added bonus this time- a mouse infestation. Her home turned into a garbage dump over run with mice, the whole place their toilet. Fantasic, just what I wanted to deal with.... I mean how many times am I going to have to clean her house out? I'll tell ya what this better be the last time!

She didn't call us, nope she called her church, and thank God she did because I just don't know what I would have done. I mean it would have been taken care of but how? Ugh! I shutter at the thought. The church called me three days into their cleaning frenzy, and barely a dent was made. Words can't even describe the disgusting conditions. How could any human chose to live in that? It baffles me.

So now my sister and I are taking over everything for our mother. We took over her finances and are trying to dig our way out of the credit card, QVC, donate to any charity that calls mess that she has created. We found her a new home because living in my daughters room was not going to work for long! And we are dealing with what to do with the trailer and it's belongings, what goes where, making a new system so she never goes back to living anywhere close to how she was, all the little details that add up to so much work.

Sometimes I sit back and am baffled by all the things I manage to do at the same time but most times I feel as though there was so much more I could have done but didn't. Even with all the craziness my short summer has seen I still think there is more I could have done so far. ( like blogging, why wasn't I blogging?) That is what you get for being an efficient person I guess.

I hope the rest of my summer is just as busy but in a better way! I want to sell our house quick and move before school starts even though we are staying in the same district.  I want to do more fun activities with the kids. The sun allergy makes the free stuff like park trips hard but we can find something. Getting my mom's life in order is something I can't wait for as well. I want the garbage dump trailer to be gone and behind us, I want all the money stuff in order, and the day to day life for her planned out with all the things she needs to have a successful life set up.

I have been successful in one summer goal- my house is organized- it is beautiful- show room status at all times! I LOVE it and the new house will definitely be put together the same way. Day to day life is much less stressful when there is less clutter. I still have to work on getting the kids to do more but one step at a time right? But you know me, I like to do 4 steps at a time.....

Please Keep the Linens off the Floor!

Have you ever solved a problem you've had for a long time and then thought to yourself, wow I must be an idiot- why didn't that solution occur to me years ago??? Obviously I have, and just did.

Two problems actually, have recently been solved in our home. The solution- oh so simple- not an Oprah "Ah-ha" moment but more like an "Oh duh!" moment.

I'd like to blog and say oh I am a genius- sadly, I don't think I can this time...but who knows, maybe you have one of these problems and have not yet solved it? I can hope right?

Problem # 1- Sheets on the floor or shoved down under the comforter on the boys beds. Do they use the sheet? Nope. So why do I keep putting it on? Solution- no more sheet on their beds- and I mean the top sheet, the one that wraps around there mattress can stay.

Problem #2- Hand towels on the floor. Who wants to pick a towel up off the floor next to the toilet to dry your hands off? I don't! Same thing in the kitchen- ok well not the same, there is no toilet in my kitchen! But the towel that should be hanging on the oven door was always on the floor. Solution- clothes pins! One clothes pin on the kitchen towel and two on the bathroom towel. I figured this gem out about a month ago after replace the bathroom hand towel once or twice a day. Now I have to remember to swap the towels out on a regular basis since I didn't have a schedule for this. No towels on the floor- it is spectacular.

So did I solve a problem for you? Are you having an "Oh duh!" moment?

The Case of the Missing Side Dish

So what is a household chore you loath?

Mine is probably being responsible for food. All the shopping, storing, preparing...it is just too much pressure some times. Thank god my kids aren't overweight. When Brad's BP and cholesterol was too high ack! it was so stressful to me. I would worry that my choices were killing him. There are just too many labels to read and every single one tells you " buy me, buy me! I'm good for you!" But they are all liars! What is the best for you at the best price and will your family actually eat it, these are the quandaries of the grocery store. Plus try to read all these labels with three kids clambering at you incessantly. Oh, I hate grocery shopping.

After buying it well then I have to figure out just where is the most efficient storage area. It can't be too far back because no one will see it to eat it, you have to rotate the older items to the front, look at expiration dates....annoying, annoying!

Then comes preparation followed by clean up. I'd eat more fruit and vegetables if someone cut them for me (and yes I know they do sell pre-cut fruits and veggies but haven't we established I am too cheap for that? I'd rather complain!) Deciding what is for dinner equals frustration; picking a healthy mix of foods that go well together, decide if the kids are going to whine about this (which is a given, Wyatt will complain about any and everything), deciding just how much whining I want to put up with.... then all the cutting, measuring, cooking, dirtying of pots, pans, bowls, utensils, plates, the counters, the table....I could make this sentence run on and on but for my English major friends I'll stop...maybe...ok, I will....

When is someone going to cook for me? You know food always tastes better when it is prepared FOR you not BY you! My mom never really cooked for me. I grew up on Mac and cheese (big shocker I know), spaghetti (just noodles no sauce), hot pockets, and fruit roll-ups all prepared by me. I did have a babysitter that made me lunch every day in the summer, yum (thanks Brenda)! I ate her out of house and home. But the point, Brad doesn't cook. I can understand on weekdays I am home, it is my "job" but weekends, well there could be another chef in my house. I tried before to have Brad responsible for a weekend meal- we'd end up going out instead, not that I mind that but I don't get to pick "lets go out" every time I don't want to cook!

And here is a great example of that very thing....

I didn't want to cook tonight, I never want to, but today I really didn't. There isn't much in the house anyways becasue guess what- I haven't went grocery shopping either! So I call Brad and offer up Chinese to him- we have a gift card so we won't be spending any extra money, sounds perfect (as are all my plans). That boy said "I was really hoping you'd cook something yummy today..." Grrrr.... He must have had Chinese for lunch- that punk. Not only does he get a home cooked meal every night but he gets to go out for lunch every single day too. Turns out he didn't have Chinese but that is neither here nor there (what the heck does that even mean? ).

Anyways, I decided on chicken in the oven ( easy!) and a box of Tuna Helper as the side dish- sans the tuna. The chicken is cooking so I put the T.H. on the counter and went downstairs (to complain on FB about having to cook dinner of course). When I came back up the box had disappeared and in its place is Lucy's notebook. Will Lucy fess up to taking the box? Nope! I searched my entire house for a good 10 mins looking for that box. I didn't have anything else to use as a side dish and didn't think Brad would buy the " I lost 1/2 our dinner" excuse. I'm seriously thinking this must be a sign from God that I should not cook tonight. But alas, I found it.... in my tupperware cupboard shoved in a bowl. Obviously the work of a three year old.

Then as I start it cooking FB distracts me again so I burned some of it....now because I don't like to cook doesn't mean I don't know how. Usually my food is spectacular (no bias here). So great just great- not only have I had to cook and now eat this meal I don't want- well now it is burnt. Brad wasn't home for about 15 mins after I finished dinner. I kept holding out on eating becasue I had this hope he was going to walk in with a yummy dinner to surprise me, but frankly I should know better then that by now- he doesn't plan well enough for that to happen. (Jess you read my blogs right? Carrie? anyone from RMI??? Give this boy some pointers- nice thing to bring your wife after work. I mean he works with a ton of women) Ah well, I gave up and ate my dinner. It wasn't horrible.

Then Brad comes home (take out free) and says " so where are we going?" WHAT!!!!!???? I could have not made dinner? I told him after all the hassle that dinner was he better eat a big ol' plate and tell me just how great every single bite was! He was smart and he complied.

But now who is going to wash these dishes?

It's a Bird, It's a Plane....

I feel  like I've almost hit my stride as a wife, mom, woman... things just seem to be going so well. My house is under control most of the time ( we are purposely leaving out the basement and garage here), the kids are pretty well behaved, Brad and I- well not to brag (which always means "hey I want to brag") but we've always been a perfect match.

Things just seem easier these days. Maybe it is part of my Simple Life goal working its self out? Maybe it is that the kids are getting older. This is the first 3 year cycle we haven't had a new baby since we met (yep, when we met I already had a baby). And by age three all those annoying baby things are long gone- no diapers, bottles, baby food, all that darn baby equipment; and bonus- you can somewhat reason with a 3 yr old... all in all just so much easier. Why didn't we stop sooner- oh right I wanted a girl....frankly, that was a grand decision and worth the extra 3 years of the baby/toddler stage. She will definitely prove her worth (I say this like she hasn't already, wink, wink)- that child cleans up after herself (most of the time), tells the boys what to do. She just takes control- oh it will be so nice when I am not the only one who walks into a room and sees the mess (boys seem to have a blindness to things that need to be done). So the real question isn't why didn't we stop but why didn't we have a girl sooner!?

Anyways, no matter what it is I just feel like I am almost the mom, wife, woman I want to be. My interests have been changing, everything seems easier, I really do feel like I am living up to the me my kids view me as (if that makes sense to you).

When Clothes Piles Attack

An Iron? What is that for? Getting out wrinkles? Haven't you heard of a little thing called THE DRYER!?

The dryer is this great appliance that tumbles out wrinkles, well most wrinkles. There are those few articles of clothing that just become wrinkled messes after being washed and dried. Those are the outfits I wear several times until I decide I just have to wash them or people will not want to sit near me. Then what happens to these misfit clothes? Well they join the "needs ironing" pile and the "do not wear this outfit often due to ironing" section of my closet. Often times I try rewashing and drying them rather then pull out the iron. Yep, I am that against ironing.

Why do I have such an aversion to an iron you may ask? Well it isn't because I think ironing is hard, it isn't. It is because of the ironing board (also known as a great place to start piling clothes). I store the ironing board under my bed. One- because it is the room I am in when I pull clothes out and decided they need ironing and two- because it takes up room so monsters can't live under there (and by monsters I mean boxes of Brad's junk). But storing it in my room means I iron in there, which means I set it up there, which means I leave it there, which means I start piling clothes on it there.

Why not put the ironing board away as soon as you are done with it? Well it is simple- the iron has to cools somewhere and ironing is usually done last minute, just enough time to remember to unplug it before we are off. Then, before I know it something has been set on the ironing board. I mean it is so convenient right there. It is made to have clothes on it- so frankly it just calls my clothes to it, "cover me in clothes," it yells through the house. Everyone hears it- not just me- and they all obey it. Within a day, sometimes less, it is covered.

Do I clean it off right away? Never. That would be too simple a solution.

Two weeks ago I needed to iron a shirt. One of those shirts that come out of the wash wrinkled up like someone wadded it up into a ball. Normally a shirt like this would not be worn very often but it is one of my sun allergy shirts- long sleeve and thin- so I have to iron it because it has to be worn. So now the ironing board is up- covered in clothes. But not the clothes that need to be ironed- no, those are in a pile on the other side of the room. (ya know because that makes a ton of sense) My room likes clothes piles- another reason why it is the perfect place to store my ironing board.

I need an ironing board with no legs- just a board to set on my bed- maybe then I'd put it away. Or maybe Brad would just find himself sleeping on a board... Hey how'd that get left there???? (insert evil grin here)


and just an FYI- I was debating drier vs dryer so I googled- here is the consensus- "A clothes dryer makes the clothes drier."

Viewed with Fresh Eyes

I did it again, I forgot to take before pictures...

My friend Cheryl came over to help me reorganize my kitchen. As I stated previously, I thought a fresh pair of eyes could help me solve some of my storage issues. Things that bother me about my kitchen are...

-I don't like anything stored on my counters
-My counter always seems to be a mess
-My cupboards are crazy deep and some even turn so it is near impossible to reach items
-I forget about and never use those items that get shoved into oblivion
-I have to keep certain things like the dog's bowls on one wall becasue he is banned from our kitchen

Before Cheryl came over my kitchen was a mess, as it is every single day. The kitchen seems to be dumping ground for everything. Anyways, I didn't clean it, I wanted her to see what and where these messy people just leave junking up my kitchen. Plus it isn't like it is a very big cleaning job just an annoying one, so I knew I wasn't making more work for her.

I told her my issues, we opened every cupboard and I explained what was in it, why, and how often I use it. Oh! and if I would use it more if it was more easily accessible. Right off the bat she had some great ideas.

I have a food pantry cupboard- it is deep as are almost all my cupboards- so putting cans in there gets difficult. Really anything in there other then cereal has to be "dug" out.

Oh let me go off on a little story here.... Cereal and Brad- Pretty much the only food Brad gets out of the cupboard is cereal ( lucky guy gets all his meals made for him!) Anyways, the cereal used to be on the very bottom shelf. Brad was constantly whining about this " I don't want to bend over....boo hoo..." So one day I told him to feel free to reorganize the pantry. He did and moved the cereal up 2 whole shelves. While Cheryl and I were reorganizing I decided to take a shelf out and move the cereal to the top. I told her Brad is going to be thrilled about this. Once he notices it, it will be all he sees or cares about. So when Brad walks in I open the cupboard to show him all our hard work. The first thing out of his mouth..... "YES! The cereal is on top! No more bending over!!!" Oh, he is so predictable!

I had never considered that the bottom shelves didn't have to have food on them. The food could be in several different cupboards in my house depending on what it was, what a novel idea! It seem like a duh! kinda thing but really, the thought never crossed my mind. I was quite obviously stuck in a rutt. (here is a semi-before (I'd already started moving stuff when we remembered to take pics) and an after picture)

Just below and to the right of my pantry is a cupboard with a shelf that pulls out- what do I have on it? A crockpot. But what could be on it? Cans of course!

Next to the stove I have some baking stuff, a George Forman Grill, hot pads, samich making stuff, candy, drink mixes, and mac n cheese (Cheryl thought I had the Mac there since it was close to the stove. Nope, sorry my Mac is there becasue I buy so much of it that is the only cupboard I can fit it in!!!). But all of this stuff is just kinda shoved in there- again a deep cupboard- and this one is weird shaped too- triangular. So we moved all side dish items (not just mac n cheese), drink mixes, and baking supplies to nice organized locations in the triangle cupboard.

On the wall where the dog's bowls have to go I had a small 2 person table that no one ever uses. Well they do, but just for setting their junk on. I kept thinking the kids would sit there and do homework since you can't see the TV from it but nope, it is too full of junk for anyone to sit at. I do keep the junk in a nice pile- ya know if a pile could be nice- I'm here to let you know piles are NOT nice- no matter how neatly you stack stuff it is still just that- a pile- a "I'm on my way to becoming a hoarder" pile! My pile was kid magazines my mom suscribes the kids to. They never read them and I felt bad just throwing them away, but with a little help from my friend I tossed them (normally I would send them to school but it is summer break).

On my garbage can wall I had a metal shelf I had brought in during Brad's surgery to keep all of his foods on (so he didn't have to look at ours while getting his and be sad). So great idea- get rid of the table and move the shelf over to it's place. This way the dog's bowls can move over the few inches they really need to and the junk table won't be there to serve faithfully as a collection point. What to put on the wire shelf was a little difficult. Because the dog can reach that wall the only food that could go on it would be cans but we already found a home for those. I knew juice needed to go on the bottom shelf so that was easy. Then it hit us- we haven't cleared the counter tops yet! Perfect solution, my reward rock jars and my paper files.

These files were my genius idea on dealing with all the paper. The kids bring home a ton of papers from school, Brad is never happy about where I put his mail, and I have store ads I want to hold on to for the week or kids papers I just don't feel like moving to their permanent file in the basement. So this seemed like the perfect solution. It is a good one, I haven't made it perfect yet, but I am working on a plan to! The problem is I never make people empty these so as you can see in the picture, everyone's file is pretty full.

The rocks, well that is my behavior/chore system. The kids get rocks for doing chores, being punctual, good grades, good attitudes, etc.... When their jar is filled they get cold hard cash- how ever many years old they are is how many dollars they collect. The system was working really well but has slowed down. I am going to work on a new twist to it- make a list of jobs and how many rocks they are worth. My hope is they will then voluntarily do more chores without me even having to mention they need to be done- here is to hoping!

But back to moving the table out- I'm so glad we did! The kitchen feels so much bigger, more open. I do have to touch up some paint thanks to the table but no biggie- I actually have a small wall on the corner that never even got painted becasue the patching of it wasn't dry and then I forgot to go back to it- oops!

I do need to come up with a solution for my recycling. It goes on the same wall as my garbage can. I also have a stand there for bags which has to stay becasue it keeps the shocker disk for my dog on it, this is how we keep him out of the kitchen (he will eat all our food, open cupboard doors, and dump the garbage if he was allowed in). I've put the disk in many places but that exact location is the only way to make the perfect perimeter for him. Anyways, I think I might buy another trash can like the one I have but mark it for recycling so the kids don't throw trash in it- it would help with symmetry for sure!!!

All in all my kitchen reorganization was a success for sure! We moved a lot but we also left a lot alone. I'm anxious to see in the coming weeks if it stays cleaner and functions smoother. I highly recommend having a friend over to help give you new ideas. I truly think once you have lived somewhere for a while and just get used to things in a certain place it is hard to see where things could move for a more efficient and organized kitchen. But sorry those of you who know Cheryl, she is all mine and I'm not sharing!

So here is the after shots around my kitchen....(and fyi, those are princess magnets on my dishwasher not dirtiness)