Laundry Lamentation

This post is actually something I wrote 3 1/2 years ago. I was reading it in my journal and I thought to myself, "That's funny.  I'm putting that on my blog."  Since this laundry lamentation was written I have made several changes in the laundry and I no longer spend hours folding clothes.  I let the children handle their own folding.

Here it is:

I think we all have that one chore that we absolutely detest.  The one that we avoid with careful planning, that we put off, try to forget, and that visits us in unpleasant dreams to mock us and remind us that we have yet to accomplish the dreaded task.  For me, it is the laundry.  Not the washing.  My washing machine does a stellar job of getting the clothes clean with minimal effort on my part.  I am also very proud of my dryer for always getting the job done.  My only contribution there it to toss the clothes in, add a dryer sheet, and press start.  But, after running 8+ loads through on an average week, which would be more if I didn't have such a big washer, my steam sizzles out.  The daunting task of sorting and folding looms before me like a root canal appointment without anesthesia.  I try to dull the pain by watching a movie while I work, but it drags on and on and on, and when the first movie ends and I'm still folding, I start to have dangerously violent thoughts, usually directed at my children and husband.  Thoughts like, "Why is it my job to do your laundry?  Can I poke you with something sharp and hot so you feel like I feel right now?"  Okay, I guess the 22 month old really can't wash her own clothes.  But if the three year old can paint her body in peanut butter without getting her dress dirty, why can't she learn to push a few buttons and dump in some detergent?  If she can unload her closet and dresser in the time it takes me to shower, why can't she neatly fold her shorts and shirts and place them lovingly in her bare naked dresser?  And if she can do it, the 6, 8, and 10 year old children should be old hats at laundry by now.  But, strangely, they are not. They seem to have the same genetic loathing for the task as me! Even when I wash, dry, sort, and fold their clothes into individual baskets, they act like I am asking them to solve the conflict in Israel when I request that they put their clothes away! Excuse me! I draw the line there.  I am not the maid! I do not get paid and I do not get to go home after my work is done.  We're supposed to be in this thing together.  Instead, I am taking a break after 3 straight hours of folding laundry to write this little rant before I go back for another hour, while the rest of my family is relaxing in the soothing air conditioning of the nearest dollar theater.  Yes, I admit it is two weeks worth of clothes, but that still doesn't explain how my 6 year old wore 24 pairs of panties and 12 dresses, in addition to a full basket of shirts and shorts.  My ten year old only used 2 pairs of underwear.  Could this explain the stench emanating from his room? Ew! On top of the physical labor I have to deal with the trauma of this underwear issue.  And then there's the socks. I hate folding socks!  I hate sorting socks! I hate checking to see what color the stripe is at the bottom of the sock and decoding to whom each sock belongs.  But, more than that, I hate checking the socks for holes.  My 8 year old is a hole factory.  I have no idea how his heels are capable of ripping through supposedly tough soles on a weekly basis.  It's time to buy stock in the sock company to get some of my money back.  And then there is the issue of my husband's work clothes.  Not being able to afford dry cleaning, I have especially delightful honor of laundering his shirts and pants. And of course they must not be wrinkled.  And of course I SO do not iron.  So, those have to come straight out of the dryer and fly directly to the nearest hanger before their final destination of his closet.  Sometimes I wonder if he thinks a magic fairy picks them up off the floor and returns them clean and fresh to his closet rod.  I want a fairy like that!  Just once, I want to NOT be the person who makes this magic happen.  I want to come home from work, which will be difficult since I am a stay at home mom, and find dinner on the table, cherubic children waiting with outstretched arms, and Kirkland's Best laundry detergent scent wafting outside from the dryer vent.  The clothes will be clean and residing in the correct dressers and closets, and I will pretend that it wasn't a monumental task.  I will sweetly kiss my spouse and say, :Hey, thanks for doing the laundry." And leave it at that.

Febrile Seizure

Emmeline got a butterfly at the hospital and a monkey in the ambulance.

   Everybody knows you need to walk a mile in another's shoes to truly understand that person's experiences.  My sister has children who are prone to febrile seizures.  I never wanted to walk in those shoes.  I believed her when she told me it was terrifying.  I didn't want to know for myself.

On Christmas day my 5 year old, Audrey, came down with a fever.  It turned out to be some strange gastrointestinal sickness that came with a nasty fever.  She just threw up one time, clear fluid with some mucous.  She ate normally. Still, I knew it was likely to spread.  Emmeline often climbs into bed with Audrey.  She was doomed.

The day after Christmas started out as a lazy Christmas break day.  The kids played with their new stuff and around 11 I had the boys set up our new Instant Tent in our big upstairs family room.  The kids were going to have a sleepover in it.  Emmeline had started to act sick about an hour before this, crying and dry heaving, so I put her down on the couch.  She was in a deep sleep and completely oblivious to what was going on around her.

I don't know what time things actually happened because I wasn't really looking at clocks.  Sometime around 12 I had kids get food out to eat.  I took a shower and got dressed.  I was sitting around upstairs when Reuben started to check on Emmeline and told me she was sleeping with her eyes half open and it was creepy.  I hollered, "Leave her alone! Don't wake her up!"

Emmeline started to cry.  I came in, annoyed that he had woken her up.  She slid off the couch and stayed crumpled on the floor.  I told Reuben to pick her up and put her back on the couch.  I'm still not supposed to be picking her up for at least another week.  Reuben gently laid her back on the couch and as I tucked the blanket around her she looked me in the eyes and said, "Mommy, stay with me!" or something like that.  I told her I wouldn't leave her.

She immediately threw her head back.  Her eyes became fixed.  Her hands tightened like claws and began to jerk.  This lasted for just a few seconds and then she stopped moving and was limp.

She wasn't breathing.

I told Reuben to call 911.  I grabbed her, yelling at her to breathe, trying to get her to respond to me.  She appeared dead.  Her eyes were lifeless, no recognition, but just staring blankly.  I ran with her downstairs, imploring with her to come back to us, begging her to start breathing.

I knew that she might be having a seizure because of how it started, but I had never witnessed a febrile seizure, and this wasn't like the seizure I watched my brother have many years before.  He was shaking and still breathing.

I laid Emmeline down on the floor and decided to check to see if her jaw was locked.  I shoved my finger between her teeth, which were clenched. Of course she bit me- really hard.  I didn't care though because I knew for sure it was a seizure.

It felt like an eternity.  As I panicked, begging her to breathe, at this point holding the phone and talking to 911, I thought of my friends Paul and Julia who lost their daughter this year.  I think of them often, hurting for them. I thought of my baby cousin who passed away suddenly very recently. Was I about to walk in their shoes?  You never know.  I hurt so much for them, but I don't want to know how much they hurt.

  Emmeline started to breathe!  I think it was about 2 minutes that she didn't breathe.

But, she still wasn't really with us.  She was non-responsive and breathing shallowly.

The paramedics arrived.  Emmeline started to cough and cry.

They put her on oxygen, took her blood sugar, and put on an oxygen monitor. She started to scream.  I was glad. Everything was crazy.  I sent the kids to get an adult neighbor and told Reuben to call Judd.  I grabbed things for a bag. My sister called and told the child who answered the phone that her baby had been born!  We left in the ambulance.

Emmeline became more alert about 10 minutes into the ambulance trip. She started to look me in the eye again and respond to what people were saying.  Then she would go insane again and start screaming.  She threw up the medicine.  That was the only time she threw up, but it meant a tylenol suppository was in her future.

I've never ridden on a stretcher, but the paramedics had me climb on and hold Emmeline because she was inconsolable when we reached the hospital. We rode in and got seen right away.  Emmeline was fine, but they just wanted to make sure.  She had her urine tested and was monitored for about 4 hours. Daddy joined us shortly after we arrived. By the time we were ready to go home, the tylenol had kicked in and she was telling all of the hospital personnel her jobs and the definition of the word ambiguous.  She was truly back.

And she is fine.  We learned a lot about febrile seizures during our visit.  They cannot be prevented, even by keeping your child on tylenol around the clock.  They happen when a fever spikes quickly and the brain literally reboots.  Often the first sign that the child is sick is the seizure.  That's how fast it can come on.  I knew Emmeline had a fever, but I was waiting for her to throw up before medicating her.  The doctors told me that even if I had medicated her, it still would have happened.  Febrile seizures occur most often in children under 5 and there can be a family link. Her chance of having another febrile seizure is about 30%, not for this illness, just sometime in the future.  But because this was her first and she is relatively old and because it happened with a fairly high fever( 103 in her ear), the chances are lower.  I cannot imagine experiencing it again.  It was horrifying.  I thought I was holding my dead child in my arms.  And now I feel both grateful that she is okay and increased sorrow for my friends and family who have lost a child.  I had only a glimpse of the feeling, the fear of it happening to me.  Time stood nearly still.  I could see nothing but her.  She was never really in the danger that I thought she was in, but it felt like it to me, just for those 2 minutes.  You never know how much time you have on earth with your loved ones, but I know that I have now, and I know that we can have eternity.

Merry Christmas 2012

I've been feeling really guilty for many years about not sending out Christmas cards. For a few years we made up Groundhog Day cards, and that was a lot of fun, but it just kind of sizzled. We were too poor. We were too busy. Every now and then I've done an e-card, so when I got my sister's today, I thought, I can do that. It's free and it involves sitting around "resting", which is what I am supposed to do most of the day. So, here it is, and I have no idea what I'm going to say, but I'm sure something will spew forth as I continue typing:

  Judd (37) keeps himself busy slaving away at his law firm, Wimmer and Pitts, in Cottonwood Heights, Utah.  He coached Tim's and Reuben's soccer teams last Spring and Tim's and Clara's soccer teams in the fall. During the summer, he coached Tim's Summer Select competition soccer team and headed up a fun filled tournament trip to Cedar City.  The boys love him and so do the parents! The soccer organization, AYSO loves him too for his service on the board as age commissioner for the U10 boys and U12 boys, and also for serving as the Safety Director.  He is currently coaching a Jr. Jazz basketball team for Amy and another one for Tim and his buddies. When Judd is not coaching, he can be found driving carpool routes or playing Sequence for Kids, Moose in the House, or the Wild Rumpus game with the little girls.  At church, he serves in the Stake Sunday School Presidency, ward Financial Clerk, and teaches Elder's Quorum once a month.  Since he has so much spare time, he also agreed to head up the ward Christmas Party a few weeks ago, which was a big hit! Judd has also earned his "Substitute Mommy" degree over the last four months.

Judd and Rooster (Reuben)

(Me)Becky (35) I spent most of 2012 playing the Pollyanna Glad Game, or in other words, trying to live the idea "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. . . .It's about learning to dance in the rain."  It has definitely been a dance in the rain kind of year, and I've tried really hard to embrace the joys as they come.  After a year and half of daily pain, I got braces in August of 2011. In the Spring of 2012 I was ready for surgery, but had to wait to get health insurance, or find $20,000, whichever was easier.  Insurance secured, I  had jaw surgery in early September and have been banded shut for most of the day ever since!  The longer it goes, the less it bothers me.  I don't know for sure when I will get my braces off, but I expect it to be in the next 3-6 months and then I'm going to get the coolest retainer they have- sparkly or rainbow, or both!  In November, I had another surgery for a different problem.  Sadly, the healing isn't going well, but I have been blessed with a lot of love and more lessons to be learned in patience and empathy for suffering.  The good news- I lost 20 pounds  from the general anesthesia making me sick. I have spent my recovery time painting rocks and sewing on the machine my grandmother passed on to me just before she died in May. I also play chauffeur throughout the week and spend way too much time cleaning, but not lately.  At church I am the Activity Days Leader, Relief Society Pianist, and Relief Society Instructor- so awesome!  I accompanied Judd and Tim on the soccer trip to Cedar City, but the trip I'm really dreaming of for 2013 is one with no sports and no children.

My new nephew Coleman

Ever since I got braces, people think I am Reuben's sister.

Reuben (14) Reuben gets up, spends 30 minutes on a hairdo that should take 2 minutes, goes to 8th grade, gets mostly A's,comes home, checks his hair, does his homework, practices trumpet, checks his hair, goes to his activities, eats dinner, checks his hair, and goes to bed.  He played soccer in the Spring, but decided to give it up for good in May.  He's been super busy this school year with voice lessons, Janeen Brady Children's Choir, Janeen Brady Show Choir, Granite Jr. Youth Symphony, Scouts/Young Men's, and play practice for Amahl and the Night Visitors, which took up 2-3 nights a week for 2 months.  He was amazing as Amahl and, much to his chagrin, can still sing higher than most women.  One day he'll know how cool it was to be a boy soprano!  Reuben is a great big brother and so sweet to his littlest sister Emmeline.  He also earned his Duty to God award for Deacons before advancing to be a Teacher in October.  Reuben won Reflections at his school for his film, a puppet show about the magical moment of getting 2 pounds of cheese for Christmas. True Story.

Tim(12) Tim is a 6th grader at the district Magnet school for gifted children.  When he isn't going to school or teasing his sisters, Tim eats, drinks, and breathes soccer and computer. His Summer Select team won first place in the Cedar City Tournament, a pretty big deal since they were up against year round comp. teams.  When he isn't playing soccer, he helps out by refereeing.  He is really enjoying his second year of playing violin and trying out basketball this Winter. Timothy won Reflections at his school for his film documenting the moment when Daddy comes home.  He also won at the Council level. He is currently planning the state's greatest History Fair project in hopes of going "all the way!" He recently turned 12 and received the Aaronic Priesthood, becoming a Deacon and joining Young Men's.

Amy (9) Amy is the miniature mother of our home.  Her brothers might technically be the ones babysitting, but when Mom and Dad leave the crew alone, we know who is really holding down the fort.  She is in 4th grade at the district Magnet school for gifted children.  Amy loves school, devours books, and adores her family.  She takes clogging and Jazz and is a member of the Janeen Brady Children's Choir.  Amy won Reflections at her school for her poem about the magical moments during Trick or Treating.  She also won at the Council level.  She has decided that  it is better to give than to receive and is receiving help from Mom to sew some amazing presents for her siblings this year.

Clara (7) Clara attends 2nd grade at the same school as the love of her life, who will remain unnamed for now.  She has named her stuffed dog after this lucky boy.  Clara took the soccer field by storm this fall.  If she wasn't scoring goals, she was leading the parents in cheers on the sidelines.  Everyone who knows Clara, loves Clara, except for evil or selfish people.  She is so exuberant and loving!  She recently asked for my help to make fabric swords for three older boys at school who are mean to her on the bus.  Who does that? Clara does.  She loves to sing, sew, and take clogging and jazz class.  Clara won Reflections at her school for her 3D art, a fabric bird in an egg, and for her poem about the magical moment of realizing her birthday candles were trick candles!  You can keep making wishes forever!  She also won at the Council level for her 3D art.  Clara helps out with babysitting by being the designated dirty diaper changer. She thinks it is fun.

The bird

Audrey (5) After an illustrious one year career as a home-schooled preschooler, Audrey started Kindergarten in August at Hawthorn Academy in West Jordan.  It is a Charter School.  We have finally decided to try something different. As much as we love the gifted school, not all of our kids test in the top 1%.  As much as we love the local school, we aren't thrilled about the Chinese Immersion program. Why couldn't it have been Spanish?  So, we enrolled Audrey at Hawthorn.  Charter schools are public schools. They do not charge tuition and admission is run by lottery.  It's been a little bit difficult so far because the work load is pretty heavy and Mommy has been under the weather for the whole school year, but Audrey is learning a lot and reading is finally starting to click.  She loves to take dance class once a week and is a little bit obsessed with watching My Little Pony on Youtube.

Emmeline (2) Emmeline leads a pretty low key life.  She cheerfully repeats her scripture verse in the morning, eats, plays, destroys, sleeps, eats, plays, destroys, and repeats.  She recently had an entire blog entry devoted to her cuteness. Emmeline's greatest accomplishment this year has been her vocabulary gains.  She can say, well, anything you can say, and say it cuter too!  She has been incredibly sweet and understanding about Mommy being "sick" for several months.  While she will respond to her nickname "Lemon" don't call her a baby or you might just disintegrate from her death glare.

We are having a simple Christmas at our house this year, enjoying being together and feeling the love of the Savior. 

Merry Christmas!  

Emmeline's Jobs

I have all these serious thoughts floating around in my head after a day at church, especially since I taught R.S. today. But, I don't think I'm going to bore you with seriousness today. No, what the world needs now is a little levity, a little reminder of all the good, sweet, beautiful, funny, fantastic little things that make life worth living. Yes, I'm talking about little people. No, not "Little People", just people who are still little. I like to call my children little people. They may not be quite so fond of the title, but they won't be little forever, so time will heal them of this insult. Anyway, Emmeline is just so dang stinkin' cute that I thought I'd share some of her adorableness with you all. First of all, she still has these amazing cheeks that you simply want to squeeze until happiness bursts right out! Don't try it though. It has been scientifically proven that Emmeline's cheeks are actually a breeding ground equal to the likes of Typhoid Mary. Then there is her hair! Holy hair! This kid has got luscious locks cascading down her head, ending in gentle curls. She knows it too. Some people have security blankets or stuffed animals. Emmeline has her hair. Who needs a teddy bear when you can pet your own head? And finally, her brain is amazing. If you know her, you know that Emmeline can carry on a conversation with the best of us. She loves to "read" scriptures, sing songs, play the piano, and tell us all what to do. When I realized how smart she was, I started to give her jobs. She will repeat them on request. Here's a short video to demonstrate the sincerity of my claim that Emmeline is practically irresistable! She tells her jobs on this video. You don't want to miss that! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9WrwS3Lcs4 In case you can't understand her, her jobs are: 1.Be humble 2.Be cute 3. Be nice 4. Be safe 5. Be clean

Gobble Gobble Super Turkey

This is a week of firsts for me: 1. This is my first blog entry made completely on my kindle. So it will be shorter than usual. 2. I used a hot glue gun in bed this week. 3. I had what can reasonably be called my first nervous breakdown. 4. I was alone during my nonexistent Thanksgiving dinner. I was invited of course but did not feel well enough to attend. 5. I found a narcotic that does not cause me an allergic reaction. 6. My sweet husband made both the mashed potatoes and 4 dozen homemade rolls to take to his parents today. There is something very desirable about a man who can work the yeast. 7. I watched the parade and some dog shows. I don't even like parades or dog shows but it was so great to feel good enough to repose on the couch rather than my bed that I didn't care what was on. 8. Finally, while getting a heparin shot in the hospital, the nurse said my stomach didn't have much fat and didn't look like I had birthed 6 children -and I couldn't respond with my usual "You haven't seen me with my clothes off!" because, well, you know. . . It has been a very difficult week for me as I struggle to recover from my second surgery this Fall. My husband has been my wall to lean on, quite literally. I have received tons of help and support. Of course I am grateful to everyone and especially to Heavenly Father for the blessing of life and even for excruciating challenges that leave me forever changed. I was on the brink this week, hours away from a return to the hospital,physically and emotionally spent, when we called on a friend to help my husband give me a priesthood blessing. I was able to calm down, go to sleep, and resolve the issue in time to avoid the hospital. It wasn't a miraculous healing, but just enough improvement for me to keep on plugging. There is always good to be found if only you look. There is always happiness to feel if you want to, maybe something small on the darkest days, but no matter what, "Let us resolve to be happy, regardless of our circumstances."-Dieter F. Uctdorf

Confessions of a Serial Trick or Treater

Why should Halloween be just for the kids?  Okay, I really do understand the reasons why trick or treating is for children, but it took me a long time to get it out of my system.  A VERY LONG TIME.  It may have involved trick-or-treating as an adult on more than one occasion.  Okay, it did involve that.  I admit it.  I LOVE TRICK-OR-TREATING!!!!!!!!!

Trick or treating as a child was perhaps the highlight of my entire year.  I loved candy, I didn't have an allowance most of my life, and this was my one chance all year long to hit the mother load.  Easter and Christmas were great too, but Halloween offered so much more! I grew up in a nice flat Texas neighborhood and we would trick or treat for about 3 hours straight, often running from house to house.  I probably pulled in 5-10 pounds of candy, which I never managed to make last past Christmas, unlike my friend Ronni who would eat one piece a day.  Some people are just born with incredible discipline.  Some of us are born dreaming of Reece's Peanut Butter Cups.  Oh, sweet memories of childhood!

Well, I had really awesome parents who let us trick or treat every year and didn't make us stop at any particular age. But, my older siblings naturally stopped around 16, so I thought I would too.  I was planning on my last year of trick or treating to be the best yet.  Then my dad got a job in Moscow Russia and 6 weeks later, in September of 2001, we were living there.  They don't have Halloween in Russia.  Ahhh!!!!!  Horror of Horrors! I was traumatized.  My parents couldn't even go out and buy me candy to make up for it because they didn't have much imported American candy and Russian candy was just not the same.  I probably should have felt worse for my little brothers, but hey, I was a selfish teenager, and I just felt bad for me.  I slowly simmered about my lost candy for 3 years.  Then I moved back to America, 17 years old, as a Freshman at Brigham Young University.  Halloween quickly approached and I made my plans.  I would go trick or treating!

I selected my partner in crime, a boy in my ward who was also very youthful looking. We dressed up and we headed on foot up to the married housing apts. at the North of campus.  And it worked! They gave us candy!

You might think I felt redeemed, but no, it was more like the having the pump primed.  The next year I was dating my husband and we trick or treated around his cul-de-sac. So, it was 6 houses, but I did go. The next year, we refrained.  The next year we had a 3 week old baby- plenty old for trick or treating. And by the next year, when he was 12 months old, he was totally old enough to beg for candy, and still too young to eat it!  Ha ha !

Since then, we've been legitimately taking our children trick or treating and not even stealing their candy.

 And I was almost recovered from my need to go, but I needed one more jaunt into the magical world of Halloween.  I was 27.  Yes.  I was 27.  I looked very young.  I dressed up as a butterfly and took my 14 year old sister out with me in my in-laws neighborhood.  These people knew me, but I wore an eye mask.  I hauled.  And I didn't have even one person look at me strangely . I had 3 children at this point.  I know, I'm pitiful, but I wanted the candy.  I shared it with Judd.  We were poor.   But, the good news, I'm sure you'll be glad to read, is that I was finally cured. Time, and better income, finally satiated my desire to beg door to door for goodies. I am a recovered trick or treater.  It doesn't hurt that my mouth issues prohibit me from eating most candy these days.  Anyway, that is my confession, my deep dark secret? What's yours?

I am Old

I am officially old.

Yes, I am.

Okay, maybe not old, but definitely a complete and total, no denying it, grown up.  I just turned 35 -  halfway through my 30's.  40 will be here to smack me in the face before I can say "Stop kicking your sister under the table" 1,825 more times, or something like that.  Time goes so fast!

Not so long ago, I was a cute little baby. It's taken me years to agree that I was cute and not some mutant with quadruple cheeks.  They were big.  But, I guess that's okay.

Before I knew it, I was 5 years old. Those early years really flew by for me.  Then things slowed down a little, but, Wammo!, Junior High was just around the corner.  And just when I was getting the hang of things, we moved to Russia.

Fast forward past three amazing years of  homeschool  High School and a little maturing and I descended upon the college scene like, well like an American teenager who was starved for cute guys who spoke English.  I had a goal of 3 dates per week.  So, naturally, with that important mindset,I quickly found an eternal companion.  We wed.

Then, we bred.

And here I am 35 years old, married for 15+ years, mother to 6 children.  I have a 14 year old child.  I was 14 when I moved to Russia.  It doesn't feel like that long ago.  Time felt so sluggishly slow when I was a child, like I could actually touch it while it dripped along, bit by insanely slow bit.

And now. .  I can't seem to get life to slow down.  And before I realized what happened, I've left my young life behind. Many of my friends, older than me, laugh at the concept of 35 being old.  I know that it isn't really old.  But, it isn't really young anymore either.  It's time to be a grownup.

It's time to admit my greatest weaknesses and to overcome them.  I'm not going to admit them to you, but I'm admitting them to me, and to God, and I'm going to change. Because, before I know it, I'll be 60, then 70, then, one day, I'm going to pass on from this life.

It's also time to embrace my talents and consciously develop them further.  While I was recovering from surgery and had a lot of spare time, my parents had me do some projects.  I painted flowers on rocks.  I painted a soccer ball.  I painted a bird house.  We sewed.  I realized that I have not been developing some abilities that mean a lot to me.  And I'm not getting any younger!  I shouldn't let my time be spent only helping my children with their many activities, but I should also set aside a little time for me to continue growing.

I want to improve my sewing ability, my art abilities, my music abilities. I want to do things I've never done, but always wanted to do. I want to do things I haven't done enough. I want to go on hikes.  I want to do amazing things with my garden.  I want to explore art.  I want to write about things that matter and reach a wiser audience than my facebook friends.  I want to play difficult piano pieces flawlessly.  I want to teach, not for money, I just want to teach.  And I want to be in a play, a real play, not just starring as the devil in the ward roadshow 21 years ago. That doesn't count.

This might be my little version of a midlife crisis.  I'm just really starting to understand the fragile nature of mortal life.  I don't want to have regrets.  In some ways I have been in limbo for 2 1/2 years, my life on hold while I deal with my strange mouth problems.  Next Friday I will have surgery to hopefully fix another problem I've been dealing with since Timothy's birth.  Then, I'm going to start doing these things.  My midlife crisis is going to be one of self-improvement, not selfishly, but balanced with my most important roles of mother and wife.  Let the crisis begin!  I'm feeling old and times a wastin'!

p.s.  I also want to know who actually reads this blog.  Please feel free to comment.  I adore comments!