Saturday, June 30, 2007

They want to grow up.....and they don't....

Having had our first born graduate from high school has caused me to reflect on how 18 years managed to pass, seemingly in the blink of an eye. When she was born, she was born with an old soul. She was always upset with me for 'waiting to have her' and 'why didn't you have me earlier?' because she wanted to be older than she was...

They grow up so quickly. Today my youngest, a whiz on a cell phone and computer at the tender age of eight, was sitting in a stroller in front of the television set, text messaging her oldest sister.

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She wants so badly to be all grown up...and I so desperately want to keep her small and contained and in my arms for a few more years. Is that so wrong?

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Point Defiance State Park

Today Lance and I got a picnic lunch packed for us and the girls (and their good friend Kylee, who is our fourth daughter it seems) and we went to Point Defiance State Park over on the sound. Soooo beautiful. First we ate lunch, then Allison helped her sister up the hill.

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Then Lance climbed up to join them.
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Later as we were driving through the park, we came across a cute baby racoon by the side of the road.

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A mile or so further on, we came to another. A mile further down another. All in all, there were four of them, in broad daylight just sitting there. I got quite close to them and soooo wanted to touch them, but knew better. I took a gazillion shots of them.

Here's Ally and Ashley and Kylee and Lance over looking the water.
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We went to a little park further into the park and the girls played and played.

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It was a really wonderful time and we plan on going back a lot this summer!

Monday, June 25, 2007

Is it Just me….

Is it just me, or is this font difficult to read? I like it and wish I could write like this, however with the amount of typing I do on the computer, my handwriting skills have suffered. Typing is much faster and easier for me.

The children got out of school today. This doesn't mean that they escaped, they were let go for the summer. I'm not complaining (yes I am), but I feel summer is far too long. I think they need to make summer vacation two to three weeks and then it's back to the salt mines books for them. I hate to see them lose ground, educationally speaking.

Of course this would mean that before they could begin their mid-summer rants of "I'm BORED' and 'There's NOTHING TO DO!' they would be swept back into the excitement that is school.

I mentioned in a previous blog post that I've gotten a new job, writing blogs and articles for real, honest to goodness money! I have spent most of my time today editing three other writers and sending their work back to them. It's not too difficult, except the system is something I'm still trying to learn. Once I get it all down I'm sure it will take a lot less time than it's taking now.

I better go. I have nine children here right now, some of which are upstairs making lots of noise. One of them peed on my carpeting this afternoon, despite the fact that I took him potty BEFORE his nap. Did I mention I'm happy to be done with toddlers and those in need of potty training? I am. Very much so.

The noise continues so I better go. I promise a better post tomorrow, full of intrigue and suspense. I'm going grocery shopping and that's always good for something.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Talkin' bout my generation....

Vicus, is that you singing?

And apologies for the very last part of this, you all know I can't stand that kind of thing. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I had no way to edit this video.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Busy, Busy, Busy. But Not as Busy as Dick Cheney

I hear that Mr. Cheney is quite busy, but I'd rather not know what he's been up to. It gives me nightmares.


I've gotten an excellent writing gig for which I hold high hopes. I'll be writing web content from home (my favorite office) and there will be no commute, except from my desk to my kitchen/laundry room/bedroom/kitchen and back to my desk again. I'm also doing editing work for this company and have been assigned four writers to edit so far. I'm excited! This beats the job I applied for up in Seattle, where I'd have to commute in rush hour traffic for hours and spend time away from the kids and the homestead. It's less stressful for me to stay close to home and hearth, as I'm a home body at heart. Plus I get to do it in my jammies if I want to!


In other news here….I've been having some health issues and a few weeks back it seems I suffered a TIA. That's a small stroke. I've had no lasting effects from that lovely event, except to be scared into taking better care of my health.


And in other news….Stephanie has decided to move to Seattle to live with my father for the summer before she departs for BYU in the fall. I think it's a fine idea. Speaking of BYU, she signed up for her classes online this week. It was quite amusing, as I was helping her search through the various classes. She was getting frustrated.


"There's nothing left that's good!"

"Sure there is!"

After looking at a class description she exclaimed, "Ewww! I'm not taking that one! It says you have to write papers for it."


I choked down my laughter. Eighteen year olds do not enjoy being laughed at, especially by their mothers.

"Um honey? This is college. You will be writing papers for every class you take, unless it's a badminton class or water aerobics."

"No way!"



What did she think she would be doing over there? Scratch that, I don't want to know.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

That's Not Funny

Pamela's Column for Pacific Publishing

Men, and I don't mean just any males, should not be taken out in public on a trip to purchase undergarments with their wives. Bad things will happen. Ok, maybe not bad things, but things you don’t want happening. Unfunny things.

I went bra shopping today and I took my husband with me. Generally this isn't something I do. Bringing the husband along when I look for lacey unmentionables isn't high on his list of fun activities. He wanted to know why I needed a new bra. I pulled my shirt up and showed him my bra.

"You see how the lace in the middle has runs in it?"
"Oh, how old is it?”
"I bought it last week”
“You did?!”
“No, I didn’t. I’m hard on a bra but not that hard”
“What happens if the lace gives way?” he said with a salacious look in his eyes.
"If this baby blows, someone could lose an eye"
"It would be like two airbags going off at the same time!"

At this point he's laughing his butt off and I'm trying to stifle a giggle.

"Hey! That's mean!"
"Just think about it, though."
"No thanks.."
“The loss of life would be staggering!”
“That’s not funny.”

Into the store we went and I picked out a bra and several shirts and skirts. When I went into the changing room, I picked the dressing room closest to the door because I wanted to come out and show him how things looked. Normally I don’t choose that dressing room; I go to last room just because it seems safer somehow. Turns out I was right.

Quickly stripping off my shirt and bra, I reached for my bra-to-be.

“Wooo Hooo!!” I heard my husband say from outside the dressing rooms.
“OHMYGOSH!! Can you see me???”

He could. I covered myself up and glared at him over the top of the door.

“How can you see me?”
“Those mirrors are set at 90 degree angles from each other and looking into one you can see the reflection through the other. Plus I’m tall and I can see over the door.”
“Argh!” Go away!”
“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

Ok, he had me there. I’m sure at some point in our twenty years together he’s seen more of me than I have. He’s seen my uterus as it was pulled out of my body after a brutal c-section. Yep, he’s seen it all.

I told him to go away again and he went off to find the restroom.

Another woman came into the dressing rooms.

“Where did that guy go?”
“The tall blond guy?”
“Yeah, is he in here? Hellooooo?”
“That’s my husband and he went to the bathroom.”
“Oh good, I thought he was in here changing. I thought he was a cross dresser or something.”

I laughed then told her she’d just made my day and I couldn’t wait to break the news to my better-half that he gave the impression of being a cross dresser. A tall, peeping Tom kind of cross dresser.

“Oh, please don’t tell him that!”
“I have to!”
“Ok, but wait until you get outside, ok? I don’t want him knowing I said that.”

So I waited, but just barely.

In a sing-song voice I informed him that people thought he was a cross-dresser.

“People? What people?”
“The lady in the dressing room with me.”
“That’s hardly ‘people’. That’s one person and why would she think I was a cross-dresser?”
“She saw you go down the hall to the dressing rooms and you didn’t come out. She thought you were there in there dressing.”
“No, I was just enjoying the show”
“That’s not funny!”
“You keep saying that a lot today.”

Sunday, June 17, 2007

One down....three to go

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This happened on Saturday and I was ok with it. I really was. Honest. I was fine up and until that highschool band started playing Pomp and Circumstance. It was then, and only then that my eyes began to well up and tears spilled down my cheeks.

You see, this is how she used to look. Her and her brother.

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And this is how they looked last night at dinner.

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As we drove home last night in the dark, I reached over and took her hand in mine. Holding it as I drove, I remembered a different time, a different hand. Her chubby baby fingers have given way to the long slender fingers of a woman. Time has taken my baby girl and given me a beautiful, strong and independent woman/child.

I miss the baby that was, but I'm excited to see what the young woman will now become....

Congratulations baby girl.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

This won't hurt a bit.....

Sure it won't!

I'm black and blue after my youngest had an in-office medical procedure today. (Yes, I know it's all about me) You can't see this in the pictures, but her daddy was there as well, attempting to hold her legs down, while I was in charge of her upper body. You know, the dangerous part.

Here she is getting her blood pressure taken before the procedure. Don't let that smile fool you. This girl is about to have her head swivel around and is about to spew green pea soup from her mouth, not to mention claw me, beat me, hit me and pinch me in places best left unpinched.

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After going ten rounds, the procedure on her toe was finished. Dr. Whitemarsh attempted to clean off all the blood lest she catch sight of it and go off like a bottle rocket again.

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Here is the exhausted angel. If you look closely, I'm quite certain you'll see horns holding up her halo.

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Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go put ice packs on my wounds.

Saturday, June 09, 2007

A lazy saturday....

Well, not an entirely lazy day. Lance got up early to rent an aerator to punch holes in our lawn in order to make it take water better. Of course it poured down rain so he got soaked and three other He Men in our neighborhood borrowed the machine to punch holes in their lawns. All the He Men were dripping wet by the time this was over. After his well deservved nap, I found him watching this...

Once a little boy, always a little boy. (I enjoy watching it too!) Later in the afternoon, with our mamma kitty asleep on his lap we watched tv together. We're both so tired and not sure why. Perhaps his change in job shifts on Friday contributed something to it. I picked him up after midnight last night at his new place and I tell you what...the three minute drive from our house nearly killed me. The traffic! Oy vay!

He loves his new short commute and so does The Boy, as he now gets to drive the car to and from school. It works out. Anyway, here he is with the kitty....

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All the cats love him. What's not to love?

While we were talking, the girls were being creative with our stairway, making a slide of sorts. I guess when it rains, their brains go into overdrive.

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Here's our fourth daughter (neighbor friend Kylee) going headfirst down the stairs.

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Ah, to be a child.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Everyone Else's Parents

Pamela's column for Pacific Publishing June 6, 2007

All right. I've had it. I'm mad and it's about time I stood up and said something about it before my head explodes.

I'm mad at Everyone Else's Parents. There. I said it and I'm not sorry. Do you know what you have put me through during my last eighteen years of being mired in the trenches of parenthood? You, Everyone Else's Parents, are much loved and revered by my four offspring. My children would rather have you for their parents than me. I can't say as I blame them. In fact, if you're not careful, I may just give my children to you. You don't make your children do chores.

You also let your children stay up to watch their favorite shows on cable, the ones with all the off color jokes and 'tasteful nudity' that is intrinsic to the plot line of the show. You allow your little ones to have ice cream for breakfast. Oh yes you do, I've heard it from the lips of my very own children.

Apparently you, Everyone Else's Parents, have an unlimited supply of cash on hand for everything from movies to endless stops at McDonald's for McHeart attacks. You have taken your children to Disneyland SIX TIMES! We never go anywhere.

My eight year old came to me with her latest list of what Everyone Else's Parent's l have let them do.

Daughter: “Everyone in my class has pierced ears, can I get mine pierced?”
Me: “They do huh?”
Daughter: “Yeah, everyone!!”
Me: “So, the boys all have pierced ears too?”
Daughter: “Well, some of them! But ALL the girls do, I'm the ONLY ONE that doesn't!”

Now my youngest has played the 'I'm the only one that doesn't' card. All parents have had this card dealt to them during the course of their parenthood. Once it's dealt, you have no option other than to call their bluff.

Me: “So all the girls have pierced ears in your class, huh?”
Daughter: “YES!!” (this affirmation is accompanied by a loud foot stomping.)
Me: “I'm going to drive you to school tomorrow and then go to your class with you and I'm going to personally check the ears of ALL the girls in your classroom to make sure they have pierced ears. Also, I'm going to do it in my robe and slippers.”
Daughter: “MOOOOOM! You can't do that!”
Me: “I can too. Should I wear my blue robe or my peach one? I think the peach one brings out the highlights in my hair, don't you?”
Daughter: “NOOOOOOO!” (more foot stomping)
Me: “So the blue one would be better?”

Everyone Else's Parents never embarrass their children by coming to school in robes and fuzzy slippers.

Everyone Else's Parent's do not believe in good nutrition. In fact, you do not monitor the food your children consume at all. You stock your pantries with cookies, chips, soda pop, and your freezers with prepared foods. I, on the other hand, never have any food in the house, according to my sixteen year old son.

Son: “There's nothing to eat!”
Me; “I just went shopping, the fridge is full of food!”
Son: “No, there's nothing good to eat in this house” (said as he slams the refrigerator door shut)
Me: “Look, there are apples and bananas and grapes. There's bread to make sandwiches”
Son: “I don't want any of that stuff. It's not food”
Me: “Is too!”
Son: “Is not!”
Me: “I have ingredients that you can make things with!”
Son: “Everyone Else''s Parents go to Costco and stock up on good stuff! How come you never do that? I don't want to make food!”
Me: “What, you want it to magically appear in front of you?”
Son: “Well, yeah. Can we go to Costco now?”
Me: “Uh, no. Go have an apple.”

Everyone Else's Parents don't make their children brush their teeth, make their beds, have bedtimes, or wear helmets when riding their bicycles. I caught my daughter outside riding her bike this afternoon sans helmet.

Me: “Inside, right now!”
Daughter: “Why?”
Me: “Hello? No helmet on your head when riding your bike again?”
Daughter: “Everyone Else's Parent's don't make them wear theirs! See? (pointing to neighbor boy Matthew, gleefully riding past with a bare head)
Me: “I don't care what Everyone Else's Parents make their kids do. You're in the house for the rest of the afternoon.”
Daughter: “Moooom, that's not fair!”
Me: “It's not fair that I'm still paying the bill for the last time you went riding without your helmet, or have you forgotten that bloody episode?”

Apparently she had. Forgotten it, that is.

In conclusion, I'd like to ask Everyone Else's Parents to please stop taking their children to Hawaii, stop buying them designer clothing, please make your child wear a helmet when bicycling, stop stocking your houses with exotic foodstuffs that I cannot possibly afford, and don't tell my children about your lake house, your beach house or your five dirtbikes and six quads. I'd like to offer up a suggestion to you: if you have so much disposable income that you make my children worship at the altar of your Perpetually Stocked Freezer and Our Lady of the Full Pantry, then perhaps you should raise my children. Then I could maybe go somewhere.

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Camano Island

We decided that we haven't had enough ocean air, so we drove to Camano Island and had lunch at the state park there. Beautiful, wonderful, silent..... and we parked far away from other vehicles in order to prevent me getting squished again.

We brought along my niece Nicole and here I am attempting to get them all together for a picture. My two girls were not cooperating fully.

Ally found a crab. I was getting my hopes up for some crabcakes, but it was small and dead already.

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Here's handsome hubby in the only picture he allowed me to keep of him from today. I did have pictures of us, but they were horrendous and we both agreed to delete them and never speak of them again.

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It was beautiful there and I would have stayed all day, but the girls got whiney and wanted to go home. You know, home? Where they always complain that we never go anywhere? Yeah, that's the place.

So home we went.

Did I mention that it's been warm out today? For the past week or so, and hubby was sweet enough to put our air conditioning unit in our bedroom window. It's now become my summer ice cave once again. I'll come out sometime in the fall.