Our Goth Girl

Kenzie decided that now that she is 2, she would like to start experimenting with "who she really is." Goth was her choice of the day. However, since we don't have black lipstick, she opted for mascara. It's hard to really tell, but she also prefers the "I-won't-keep-pigtails-or-ponies-or-or-barretts-or-rubberbands-in-my-hair," look. But who can blame her (or any of my girls)? They don't even start to grow hair until they hit this age, and by that point, who wants to feel restricted by keeping hair out of eyes or pulled back on your head?

Look Who's 2

                             

Yesterday was Kenzie's birthday.

We didn't do anything to celebrate. If you happened to read my post about our anniversary, you'll recognize a theme...clearly, we just aren't in to celebrating.

Of course, I am kidding. We just aren't in to celebrating on the right day.

Yesterday was a crazy day, as Greg worked and I had Enrichment. So, given that she turned two, we took a mighty risk and opted to celebrate on Sunday - Easter -- with Greg's family. Hopefully, she won't turn in to a rebellious teenager and write a tell-all book because we postponed her 2nd birthday celebration. 

Pictures with the cake will come later...but I did want to acknowledge her day - even if I am a day late. She is a sweet and fun little girl - despite the fact that she's already speaking in sentences and some of them (we blame her older siblings) aren't so nice.

13 Down, Eternity To Go

    

Yesterday was our anniversary. Lucky #13 to be exact. Hard to believe it's been that long. Although, when you get married as mere children....you're not really that old by the time you hit 13 years. (Indulge me.)

I've pondered on which adjectives I should use to describe the unbelievable way in which we celebrated. However, words escape me. (Ok, not really, words rarely escape me.)

Greg got off work at 6:30 am...so he slept for 3.5 hours while I worked out and got the kids off to school. Then, we loaded the little girls in the car, grabbed a few snacks and "the package" and off we went. A quick run through the McDonald's drive-thru and we were on our way.

The weather wasn't great -- but we were not to be deterred. I mean really, this was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of day. How often do you get to celebrate your 13th anniversary?

About 45 minutes later, as we neared our destination the anticipation in the car grew. It's hard to say who was more anxious -- me or the girls. (Brynnley had to go to the bathroom). Slowly, we turned the corner and there it was....

The accountant's office. 

YES! You read that correctly. After hours and hours of searching and sorting receipts, making Excel spreadsheets and checking the bank website...I had our taxes ready to go to the accountant's office. And it's not even April. WHEW! 

Granted, to the average person, this may not be such a significant event -- and certainly not the most sought after way to spend an anniversary. However, since the thought of our taxes dominates a large corner of my cerebral hemisphere from January until "DROP OFF DAY"...this is HUGE. Perhaps now I can sleep again at night. (Not likely). But, at least now my kids can stop trying to catch a leprechaun so that they can make wishes like, "Please let mom finish the taxes!" (True story - just ask Cannon).

The rest of the day was rather anti-climatic. We stopped at the bank, showed one of our properties, caved in to the kids request and ate dinner at Cici's (poor decision on our part), took Addysen to Activity Days, got diapers at Walmart, watched last week's Lost and were in bed by 10:30.

Talk about party people.

Attn: Scrapbooking Wannabe's

I am a master multi-tasker. I read while listening to my i-pod while running on the treadmill. (For clarification - -I don't actually read while running -- only when walking during my cool down.) I fold laundry while watching tv. I repost my rental properties on Craig's List on the laptop while paying bills on the other computer. You get the idea. There just isn't enough time to get everything done.

I believe in family history and the importance of documenting the ever-so-exciting events of our daily lives. I keep a journal. It mostly consists of things I did during the day...and despite the fact that most entries go something like this: worked out, laundry, folded clothes, vacuumed, G worked, etc. someday, that information might be of value to someone.

Or maybe not. 

 Nevertheless, it is what it is and I'll forever be grateful for my father-in-law's example of using a calendar. It's easy to write something every day...but there is limited space so it doesn't become overwhelming. 

I also take lots of pictures. However, when it comes to putting the pictures and documentation together...I am a scrapbooking wannabe. I used to do it - -before it became a billion dollar industry, before kids, and before real talent was required. Now, I just sit and admire the AMAZING works of art that my friends and family members create. It truly impresses me...and truly escapes me.

BUT...I am excited about this new possibility.... www.blurb.com

I got this information from a friend's blog (thanks Laura!) and I am excited to try it out. For those of us (is there anyone besides me out there!?!) who just can't get it together to scrapbook...now you can print your blog into a book format and keep track of your family history that way.

I haven't tried it yet...but I am hopeful. One less thing to cross of my list and I am good to go.

Read the Label

Clearly, I am not the sharpest tool in the shed.

I was at Costco the other day -- with all 4 kids. That was my first mistake...taking 4 children shopping at Costco, after school and before dinner. I was totally outnumbered right from the start and should have known it was a recipe for disaster. (Pun intended.)

I saw this pre-made chicken fettucini. The sign above it said $3.59. Being the quick thinking, pre-planning, Martha-Stewart-has-nothing-on-me, type of girl I am, I thought, "Hmmm...this looks good and it will get me out of making dinner one night this week." Even though I doubted the kids would eat it, the price was right.

Imagine my dismay as I just pulled it from the fridge and discovered the tiny label that states, $3.59/lb, Total Price: $15.11.

Any bets as to whether or not this is the best fettucini I've ever had?

Find Fresh Meaning In Easter

      

Lately, I've been struck by the fact that I have an Easter Lilly on my table, and a poinsetta on my hearth. It seems odd to still have a "Christmas flower" hanging around, months after the holiday.  And yet, it seems sillier to even consider throwing out a perfectly good and still beautiful plant. It's not just about the plant...but what it represents...and my great need...my great desire to have the spirit of Christmas in my home year-round.

With that thought, I've caught myself looking for the "deeper meanings" behind these plants and the holidays they symbolize. Then, today, in the Faith and You section of the newspaper, an article grabbed my attention. It was titled, "Take the time to find fresh meaning in Easter."

The author states, "Easter is coming, and some of us have been "doing Easter" for decades. We've done the church thing, the family thing, the kids thing. Even if we have a close relationship with God and our family, we can feel a little stale." 

He then goes on to discuss a book called, "Dare to Prepare" by Ron Shapiro and Gregory Jordan.  The theme is business and how "some of us don't know how to win before we begin." The authors cite three reasons a person doesn't always prepare:

* I don't have time.

* I've done this before.

* I know how to do this.

How often are we guilty of those reasons? More importantly, how often am I guilty of those excuses...when it comes to things like, family home evening, spending quality time with my children...or teaching and reflecting on the importance of Easter? That is just to name a few.

I prepare for Christmas. I love Christmas. We celebrate with the tree, the lights, the stories, the music, the food, the gifts...for weeks prior to the actual holiday. We emphasize over and over "the true meaning of Christmas," and look for opportunities for secret service and traditions and ways to increase love in our home and our surroundings. 

But, like the author of this article, I'm guilty when it comes to preparing for Easter. And so, I have to ask, as did he, "What does Easter really mean to me?"

The author continues, "As a Christian, I can find several messages, but at the heart of them is forgiveness. The power of the cross and Jesus rising from the dead have helped me forgive others -- and just as important, forgive myself. I occasionally beat myself up over things, and that causes me to be rough on others.  Want to prepare for Easter? Dare to ask what it means to you."

And so, I'll continue to ponder that, long after the easter baskets have been put into storage and the candy wrappers are all vacuumed from the floor. I'll try to forgive myself and others, while at the same time, in the words of Gordon B. Hinckley, try to, "stand a little taller, be a little better, a little stronger, a little more thoughtful, a little more humble, a little more prayerful..."

Hmmm...all that from pondering the irony of having an Easter Lilly and a Poinsetta in the house at the same time.

There is Humor All Around

"When you've gotta go, you've gotta go."

We've all heard this saying (or some variation of it) at least once in our lives, right? I'm going out on a limb here and guessing that we've all felt this at some point as well. Yesterday, the little girls and I experienced someone else's EXTREME need "to go" and what an experience it was.

I had a dr.'s appt. and my doctor's office is located at the hospital. For those of you familiar with Cleveland, you know that MetroHealth is not in the finest of locations. But, my doctor is excellent and so worth the drive. Without getting too sidetracked, suffice it to say that the environment is not an "upper West Side" atmosphere. Whatever that means...making a trip there is likely to be a very eye-opening experience no matter what time of day or night. Pretty much, anything goes.

Anyway...we were in the bathroom...Kenzie in her stroller, Brynnley in the stall. Suddenly, the door flew open and a rather distraught woman came charging in. She was moaning -- almost ranting, as I quickly moved the stroller -- clearing a path to the empty stall. Upon entering the stall, she immediately threw off her scarf and tossed her coat and purse to the ground. All the while, the moaning got louder and louder. "Oh, Oh, Oh My! Oh My _________ (enter the name of Heavenly Beings), OH! OH! Holy _______ (you fill in the blank). Kenzie was enthralled by the scenario and it was as though her head was glued over her right shoulder as she watched the episode unfold. I was stuck somewhere between shock and horror, yet simultaneously wondering, "should I offer assistance of some sort?"

Had I not seen the woman and known otherwise, I would have seriously wondered if she was giving birth right then and there. The exclamations were that intense and that loud. (Just as a sidenote - I have given birth that way and truly could have related to her pain.) Finally, amidst the moaning, we heard the sound of great relief. We all felt relief, although the girls and I did not express our gratitude quite as eloquently or as vocally as did this woman.

"OH! OH MY! OH THANK YOU (enter Heavenly Beings again)! OH! OH! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! Holy _______ (it was not a cow). OH YES - THANK YOU !"

Mind you, this was a small bathroom. Even though I had moved Kenzie's stroller once again (and yes, she was still craning her neck - trying to see), we had little options. The door to the stall was wide open, and even though we weren't looking directly inside, it was hard to totally avert our eyes from the mirror which reflected this woman in all her glory.

Desperate not to laugh, and yet wondering what kind of long-term effect this incident would have on my children, I pleaded with Brynnley to hurry up. By this point, the "child had been born" and the woman gathered her scarf and coat and purse from the floor, put them over her arm and promptly walked out -- moaning and thanking Heavenly Beings all the way out the door.

And no - she did not wash her hands.