With that burden lifted I am free and light and can breathe deeper than I have in the last two months.

The two weeks off that I have laid before me are like this, I don’t know, gift that I’ve been given. Or something. I have made a list of all that I want/need to get done and while it looks a little overwhelming, I’ve had the distinct satisfaction of crosses items off of that list over the weekend.

If you are a Facebook or Twitter friend you know that I am suffering from a certain, uh, affliction. It’s something that only happens to women and occurs every, oh, twenty-eight to thirty-five days (or so)(for me). You also heard that said infliction causes enough pain that I (used to stay home from high school one day a month, and) take prescription painkillers for that One Bad Day. The pain is not eradicated, but brought down to a level where I am able to stand upright. (How’s that for TMI?)

Saturday was the One Bad Day and I did what I have figured out works best to help me get through it; I kept very, very busy. A large part of me would rather lay on the couch with a heating pad and whine about how much it huuuuuuurts. The problem is, spending that much time focusing on it makes it seem even worse than it truly is. So I cram as much stuff in that I can and keep moving, moving, moving. Tie this in with that nice long list I have sitting here and I was a woman on a mission.

The first order of the day was to tackle my closet and craft room. Not only were they in shambles, it was time to put away my summer gear and haul out my winter gear. In the process of doing so I pulled out every single article of clothing that I hadn’t worn in the last year. I now have two (TWO) large garbage bags of clothes to drop off at the ladies auxiliary. I went through Emily’s closet with the same force and she was left with a pretty barren closet. I sure hope that the US shopping outlets are ready for us next weekend.

The craft room is also back to pristine condition and you can actually see the floor. I was almost taken out by rabid dust bunnies but I pulled out my ninja moves Dyson and vanquished them. I thought about taking an “after” photo but it looks pretty much identical to what it did when I first set it up.

The Great Purge of 2009 had a brief intermission while we took Emily to ballet.

I keep telling myself that I don’t need to bring my camera every single week but then they are so cute and sweet and…sigh. I may have to buy a separate external hard drive just for ballet photos. That one was taken for me by Amanda while I caught our girls on the Flip. Video to follow this week (as part of my review), once I figure out what song to use. We watch from the other side of the glass which means that all you can hear is Graham telling story after story after story. That kid does not. stop. talking. I have no idea who he gets that from.

Upon returning home and finishing up the Great Purge of 2009 I crossed it off my list and moved onto the next task. I want to stock up my freezer with some meals I can whip out when I’m back at work. I much prefer a freshly cooked meal but sometimes it’s nice to just take something out of the freezer and fire it into the oven. I made a quadruple batch of Samosas, which we had for dinner along with plum chutney. I also made four lasagnas, one of which was our Sunday dinner.

To sum it up: I cleaned three bathrooms, attacked three closets and a craft room and made six meals to eat at a later date, all before 5:00 pm. Do I get a gold star? Or something?

Sunday was less, shall we say, insane. I went to church for the first time in two months, only to find out that we had to go to an event for Nathan. I didn’t get to go to service or see the bulk of my friends. But I was IN THE BUILDING, so at least there’s that. Or something. The rest of the day was more of a putter here and a sit in my bay window seat and read a book there and a walk to the creek kind of day.

Despite my, um, affliction it really was a great weekend. The past eight weeks consisted of my family going on grand adventures while I sat here chained to my laptop. I missed out on some fun times and also saw the pile of house things that needed to be done grow almost exponentially. This weekend was a whole new world again. It was nice to get stuff done while the kids played outside and Matthew worked on his shed addition. It was great to harvest the last bits out of our garden and to do a bunch of cooking (which I love to do). Sunday night Matthew and I talked about something that has been asked of me and while we had already thought it was a great idea, this weekend confirmed it.

I have been asked if I would be interested in returning to work full-time in January. Details haven’t been hammered out yet but I told them that I was indeed interested. I would return to the office and regain that sense of normalcy that I got a taste of this weekend. Matthew would return to Daddy Daycare and have the chance to cross some of the house projects off of his list. He is more than willing to work full-time but the initials behind my name means that I make almost triple what he can. When I went back to work part-time in the spring I loved the freedom that it gave me from the weight of work. When I walked out of my office door, work was behind me and my family was before me. Anyone who is self-employed knows that while there are benefits (Working in your yoga pants, for one) there is also the feeling that work is never done.

I think it will be good for me, for him, for all of us.

Wow. I sat down to write a quick post and ended up spewing some verbal diarrhea. It felt good though, just like my weekend did.

How was your weekend?

When I have work responsibilities they always seem to hang over my head. Being self-employed has its perks, yes, but it also has its negative factors. All-day access to the snack cupboard is one of them.

The major problem that I have encountered is my lack of ability to separate work from home. There is always an assignment to mark, emails to answer, posts to write.  Even while I am not working, I am thinking about the work I have to do.

No rest for the weary, or something other inane quote.

Matthew and I discuss this often, for it is yet another thing that we have in common. We feel as though we never get a true break because our work is always waiting for us. The separation of home and work is hard when you work is in your home. We know that we need to widen the gap between the two in order to be better people, better spouses, better parents.

We have been making strides in this department in the past few months.

I worked hard on Friday, and got up early (yawn) on Saturday to work. By 10:30 am, I was all caught up.

I shut my (shiny, pretty) laptop and got busy.

Matthew had taken the kids into town to run errands so I worked out for half an hour, put laundry away while I cooled off and then had a shower and made myself presentable. I whipped together lunch just before everyone arrived home.

After lunch the boys helped me start my Christmas baking while Emily napped.  She woke up, all warm and curly-haired, and then we went OUTSIDE. Yes, I live in Canada, but our fall has been reletively mild. Now that I typed that, it is totally going to snow. My bad.

I mentioned the other day that my photo-taking has been stagnant due to all of the work that I have on the go. This whole “compartmentalizing” of work and play worked in my favour this weekend. I walked around, camera in had, and captured my three lovelies.

I also took a photo of my other, um, lovely?

At least he wasn’t wearing his red lumberman’s jacket.

You may remember me modeling those sweet safety glasses in this Flickr photo.

Sunday was more of the same. More Christmas baking, more time outside, more time spent together as a family and NOT WORKING. (I also wrapped Christmas presents.  Yes. Yes, I did.)

This “balance” thing might actually be happening, if only a little bit. I am starting to be able to leave the work of the future back in the (home) office and focus on living in the here and now.  It is all sorts of awesome.

I hope it lasts.

A year ago today: Festival of Lights

I think he is kind of neat. Him imploding would pretty much suck.

The “busy” that I refer to is this thing that I call Life.

I am a Type A personality by nature, and operate more efficiently when I have a number of things on the go. I find that lists (mmm…lists…) make life a little more organized. They make me feel like I have a handle on the chaos that is my life.

In the past few months I have gotten a little lazy with the list. Arrogant, even.

Lists? Pshaw! I can keep track of everything IN MY HEAD. Lists are for pansies!

This pansy has thrown in the towel. I need lists to help keep my stress level to a minimum. Without lists, I feel like I am wandering in circles and not accomplishing much of anything. If I write lists down on paper, then I no longer need to have random facts/ideas/thoughts bouncing around in my head. They are written down. My head can be (somewhat) clear.

I spent over an hour on Sunday afternoon getting organized. Pen and paper are my tools of choice.

I have a Polestar calendar which I have been pretty good at keeping up with. All family appointments and meal plans for the week get jotted down.  There is also a “To Do” column which I plan to start using in earnest.

I have one notebook that I use strictly for groceries. After Matthew and I decide on the meals for the week, I make grocery lists based on the menu plan. This is nothing new.

The extra thing I did on Sunday was to step beyond the basics of meal planning.

Kristin posted a couple of weeks ago about putting her goals in writing. I was inspired and have done the same. I am not sharing them here (no offense), but I might share them when and if they are achieved. I am just excited that I took the step to write them down.

SLynnRo posted last week about all that she plans to accomplish in November. I was inspired to do the same. Again, I am not sharing the lists, but they are documented in those notebooks above and will be (Gleefully!) crossed off when completed.

I have lists for stuff to do personally, for stuff to do around the house, for stuff to do regarding Christmas (NEXT MONTH. CRAP.)

It feels so good to have everything written down on paper and to have it OUT OF MY HEAD. I will be busy getting items crossed off my list, yes, but each strike through will fill my heart with joy.

(Yes, I am a dork. Not that you did not know that already.)

In other busy news, I signed up for NaBloPoMo.  I KNOW.

I asked for your thoughts on participating and had mixed reviews. I, personally, have had mixed feelings. I have done it the past two years, but did not think I could pull it off this year. I have three kids who require a lot of time, I am working, I HAVE LISTS TO CROSS OFF.

I write two days a week over at Work It! Mom. To write an additional seven posts a week over here might just kill me. Or at least cause bodily harm. I emailed Eden (Grand Poobah of NaBloPoMo) to see if my Work It! Mom posts would count. They will, as long as I link to them from here (Which I do!)

I could say that I am participating because I want to further my writing skills, blah, blah, blah.

The truth of the matter is that I am a lemming. Go me.

So! Let me know if you are participating, and I will do my best to encourage your efforts. I have decided to add the “A Year Ago Today” feature at the bottom of each post. I am getting a kick out of it so far as I have a hard enough time remembering what happened last week, never mind what happened last year.

For the rest of you, I apologize in advance for cluttering your Feed Reader. Please forgive me.

A year ago today: NaBlahBlahBlah (Ironic that I am announcing this on the exact same day, no?) (See also the photo of Emily as a newborn. Sigh.)

I really am crazy.

Last fall we did a family photo shoot that was a disaster of epic proportions.  Don’t believe me (or want to click the link)?  I have photographic evidence.

Exhibit A:

Exhibit B:

Wow. She really was bald.

Oh, the difference a year makes.

There was not a single family photo that I deemed worthy of sharing from that photo shoot so we used this photo from the summer. Click on it and see what difference a year has made in my children.

The weather here for the month of September has been beyond amazing. The mornings are chilly but the afternoons are downright balmy.  I thought we should get the Family Photo done before the snow blows in and we start wearing parkas.

I asked my brother to meet us at the Lake after work so I could hand him the camera and (hopefully) get a few shots that might be worthy. We beat him to the docks and did some exploring.

Um. RAWR. Dude gets hotter as the years go by.  Seriously.

He + them = Awesome.

I love these three more than I ever thought would be possible for a human heart to bear.

We would have loved to stand on the edge of the dock but the sunlight was still quite harsh.  If we waited to take the photos during the golden hour around sunset it would have collided with bed time and it would have been a complete and utter gong show.  See the above photos from last year.

We rolled with it and found a nice place in the shade.  Honey thinks they are all fine photos (As in: Dude hates having his photo taken).  It is up to me to pick. Here is where you come in.

Do we use the photo that has the lake and mountains in the background?

Or this one where we are a little bit zoomed in?

(If you choose this, you might be crazier than I am.  Hi! We are the ALL CHEESE family!)

Or should we go for the ultra zoom?

(Looking at my dark hair I feel like singing, “One of these things is not like the other“.)

Decisions, decisions.

Thoughts?

There were wild berries that grew around town called “salmon berries”.  They neither looked nor tasted like salmon and were actually quite sweet.  I have no idea where the name came from; maybe they went well with all of the salmon available for consumption in a fishing town?

When I moved to Vancouver there were numerous markets that sold real fresh fruit from out in the Valley. The berries burst with flavour, the peaches were juicy, the apples were not coated in wax.  The only downside was the cost.  The prices made purchasing the good fruit a treat for this starving student.

I married Matthew, got my designation and we moved to the Okanagan. Orchards are EVERYWHERE.  From May until October the amount of fresh fruits and vegetables at your fingers (for cheap!) is astounding.

That very first summer I did something that I had never done before. I canned peaches.

(Side note: Why is it called “canning” when you use jars?  Should it not then be called “jarring”. Though I guess “jarring” sounds less cozy and domestic and a little more, well, jarring.)

I used my friend Google to see what supplies I needed and how to go about preserving those tasty treats. I blanched, I peeled, I cut, I boiled and at the end of the night I had a counter full of preserved peaches. I was so inspired that I also canned applesauce and salsa. Two winters in a row I added antipasto to the mix (fresh ingredients not required).

This continued for a few years but then I started popping babies out left right and center and could not seem to get it together in order to do some canning. This year, I vowed, would be different. Matthew promised to help me.  We bought a twenty pound box of peaches and let them ripen.

On the day that they were perfect for canning Matthew had to attend a meeting in the evening.  No problem, said I. You go to your meeting and I’ll can the peaches after the kids are in bed. Then when I am finished I will do the laundry and edit some photos.  After that maybe I will spend some time on the Internet.

I am completely delusional. Obviously.

I started on my quest to can the blasted peaches and Twittered about it. Before I knew it I was cursing Matthew under my breath elbow-deep in peaches and thought I should vent on Twitter. I logged in and saw a reply by my friend Buzz Bishop where he recommended I watch this You Tube video by the Presidents of The United States of America.

Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches.

I was instantly snapped out of my grumpy funk. Matthew arrived home shortly thereafter. He rolled up his sleeves and jumped right in while I bossed him around. I played the video for him and we worked as a team.

Millions of peaches, peaches for me. Millions of peaches, peaches for free.

(Sorry. I’ve been singing it for DAYS.)

When all was said and done and the jars of peaches were lined up like little soldiers on the counter I felt good. Great, even. I had preserved a little bit of summer for us to enjoy when we are buried in snow and cursing the cold.

Despite my bad attitude I think it really is worth it to preserve the good stuff.  Have you ever tasted canned peaches from the grocery store? NASTY.

Next on my list is a plum chutney recipe from Karen that is so amazing that words cannot give it justice. I might even make applesauce, salsa and antipasto.  Matthew promises that he will help from the start this time.

Do you have any canning recipes that you do every year, or that you would like to share?

Or do you think I am a crazy lady with way too much time on her hands?

Wait. Don’t answer that last one.

I highlighted our laundry room a few weeks ago and now that another room is pretty much complete (Go Honey!) I thought it was time to post some more photos.

First, a bit of history.

We moved into this house in the spring of 2001.  The first room(s) we thought we would tackle were the kitchen and living room combo.  We live in a split-level house (Ah, the Seventies) and so the kitchen and living room are basically on their own floor.

In the kitchen the cupboards were oak, the floors were a nasty linoleum and there was a half-framed-in “dining room”.  The living room had blue carpet, faded white walls and some nasty Seventies paneling on the wall dividing the two rooms.

I would scan photos from then but I have more than enough photos lined up for the second makeover we gave the room.  Plus, I’m lazy.

We (Matthew) knocked out the wall, built new cupboards and an island. We (again, Matthew) turned the big picture window in the front of the house into a bay window with a window seat (because I had always wanted one of those).

The kitchen/living room combo was now referred to by the official name of The Great Room.

When we first moved here we were huge fans of log homes and so we made the walls look like they were the inside of a log home. After the room was complete, I forbade Matthew from doing the same to any of our other rooms because HOLY WOOD OVERLOAD, BATMAN.  We have done wainscoting or wood beams in the rest of the rooms.

My dislike for the wood on the walls grew greater and stronger until I finally beat Matthew into submission Honey saw my vision and agreed with it.

Before I show you the “Before” photos (which are technically also “After” photos), I need to make some disclaimers as to the qualities of the shots:

1. I was walking out the door to spend the day at the beach with the kids when Matthew mentioned that he was going to start tearing the wood down.

2. I was too lazy to set up the tripod and take proper shots because the kids were yelling at me to HURRY UP AND TAKE THEM TO THE BEACH ALREADY.

3. I thought I would add my wide-angle attachment (which I had never used)(which also should have be used with a tripod), and though I could see that the shots were not what I wanted it was TIME TO GO.

4. You will at least get an idea of the old look.

Without further adieu, BEFORE:

That would be Matthew hiding behind Emily’s Little People doll house. That would be Emily on the coffee table.  Matthew built it when we first redid the room but he now hates it and plans to build a new one.  We will be offering it for free, to a good home.

Take a look at the hearth.  The blond brick has to be the most boring shade of brick on the planet. The fireplace itself consisted of some nasty brass and you can’t see from the distance, but there were hummingbirds etched in the glass.  Classy.

I should point out that the wood floors are not laminate.  They are real wood from a mill, which Matthew installed, sanded and coated.  He is amazing.

Here I am panning left.

Wood!  Wood everywhere! Nobody light a match!

Now the view into the kitchen:

That’s my Step Mom at the sink.  She was visiting to help with the kids as I left for BlogHer the next day.

Are you ready for the “After” photos?  I sure was. Here they are:

Matthew bought special paint and covered the brass.  He also had new glass cut.  Good-bye, hummingbirds!

Matthew did all  of that rock work himself.  The alcove that was on the left before was completely useless. We bought the shelves from IKEA and Matthew built the rock around it.  I need to add a few more photos on the right shelf above the wood but I always take forever to decide what should be included.  I do know that I will hang a large print off this year’s family photo above the chair on the left, once we actually take said photo.

Panning left, we have the bay window.  Nothing has changed, but thought you’d like to see the pine trees out the window.

We really do live in the sticks.

Panning further left we get the armoire that Matthew built.  It houses a TV and other electronics.

I haven’t finished deciding what to decorate the shelves with, but you get the idea.  The walls on either side house 16×20 prints of this photo and that one.

Panning left again we have the dining area. The chairs are from Pier One but the table is the oak one we got as a hand-me-down from Matthew’s parents when we moved here. He just bought the wood to build a new table. Woo!

The final pan to the left:

I think that the whole room is so much brighter now that the paneling is off of the walls. It also seems less tacky.

I also think that the room finally lives up to its name of The Great Room.

My favourite part is the hearth.  It is no secret that I hate winter, but with the fire roaring, a good book and a hot cocoa (or hot toddy) in hand, I think I could be pretty cozy there.

Care to join me?

Work is done (for now), so I can get back to complaining about being a Mom.  Poor me, I have THREE KIDS.  I should really get over myself.  At least I am not dealing with sixteen of the hellions creatures.  Or not having any of them at all.

I was at the beach yesterday morning with the kids and our friends. We swam in the lake, ate Goldfish crackers and fought over toys (Um, they did.  I had parked myself on a beach blanket.  TOO TIRED to fight over the toys).

We came home and made lunch together. After lunch we put Miss Emily to bed for a nap and the boys built Transformers out of Lego.  Matthew and sat down to assess (not asses) our situation.  His work is slow, yes, and he was dealt a major blow while I was away all morning.

He started to wonder if he was in the wrong industry, or if he should go back to school.  He could also work out of the house like a regular person.  Leave home at 7:30 am, be home by 5:30 pm.  I could do the same.  Thanks to my initials I would have a full-time job in an office instantly, should I so choose.

We don’t want that for our family.

We bought our house seven years ago before the market went nuts and made some wise decisions after the fact.  We barely have a mortgage.  We are Dutch, which means we are cheap frugal.  We do not need to be raking in the dough.

The plan is to keep on as we have been.  For Honey to work as hard as he has been.  For me to take on work when we need me to.  For the both of us to be as involved in the daily minutiae of our kids’ lives as we can be.

We spent the afternoon at the lake as a family.  All five of us.

This is a definite perk to being self-employed.

After supper Matthew had to attend a meeting.  I had no qualms as I have been the absentee parent for the bulk of the last month.

I pushed the kids on the swings, played hide-and-go-seek, pitched baseballs.  Events that I had missed out on for many a night in the past four weeks.

The sun started to set and I asked the kids if I could possibly take a few photos in the magical light.  They obliged.

Graham:

Nathan:

Miss Emily:

Then I thought I would get all artsy:

Ish.

It felt good to reconnect with my husband.  To reconnect with my kids.  To reconnect with my camera.

I plan on doing more of the same this weekend.

And you?

I am a Caucasian Anglo-Saxon female married to a Caucasian Anglo-Saxon male.  We have 2.5 (OK, fine. THREE.  Though Emily is still wee) children.  We drive two vehicles, attend church on Sundays, and sometimes skip down the sidewalk out of pure glee.

(That last part is a lie. Maybe.)

We are the epitome of The American Dream.

Except that we are Canadian.  I am pretty sure that The Canadian Dream involves Bacon (Mmmm….), beer (SICK) and Poutine (EVEN WORSE).

We also do not look down our noses at those who choose lifestyles different than ours.  It really is not my place to judge.  I will leave that up to God Himself.

(Who came to Earth and not only hung out with “sinners”, but turned water into wine.  Dude was/is awesome.)

So maybe we are not entirely “traditional”.

Where was I?

The point of this post was to talk about traditions.

We don’t have many of them, but are working on it.

I come from a broken family.  My family tree is more like a family WEED.  Offshoots all over the place and HOW THE HECK ARE WE ALL RELATED AGAIN?

Matthew’s family is a little more “traditional”.  So far.

The one tradition that has stood the test of time in both of our families is that we got to open one present on Christmas Eve.  The present was always pajamas which we wore to bed in anticipation of “Santa”.

(I use quotes because he is not real.  OR IS HE?)

My side of the family is spread across the province…and the country.  The last time I saw my Mom was when she came here when Emily was born.  Almost two years ago.  My family has never been on to congregate for Christmas, or Easter, or Thanksgiving (except for last year).

Matthew and I want to create traditions for our little (nuclear) family.  We decorate sugar cookies at Christmas (one of his family’s traditions).  We have made it to the IPE (Big Exhibition.  LOTS OF STINKY FARM ANIMALS) a few years in a row. We give the kids pajamas on Christmas Eve, and have cinnamon buns for breakfast on Christmas morning.

Matthew spent the first thirteen years of his life in Abbotsford, which is/was a farming community about an hour outside of Vancouver.  He has a Great Aunt who never married and would take him and his siblings to the Abbotsford International Airshow every year.

This year Matthew was exited about the airshow.  Emily is getting easier to travel with and the four hours in the van would be worth it to see all of the planes! And shows! And FIGHTER JETS!

He told me the dates of the airshow.  It is this particular weekend.  A weekend that I spend marking accounting exams (Woo).  He could have taken the kids by himself because that would be SO MUCH FUN, but he is a smart man.  The plan is to stay home this year and hope that it works out next year.

While I was away last weekend Matthew heard some news that made him a little giddy.  The SNOWBIRDS were coming to town.

He may or may not have dribbled a bit.

We packed all three kids in the minivan, headed to the lake, fought CRAZY crowds, and parked ourselves right on the edge of the lake.  I popped on my zoom lens and snapped away while Honey made sure the kids did not drown.

No, I did not invert the following photo.

Yes, I would likely CRAP MY PANTS if I were in that plane.

Or any of these ones:

Yep. Squeezed out a turd.

Um. And one more.

A friend of mine got a kick out of my zoom lens and asked if I could see the colour of the pilot’s eyes.

Blue.  Or green.

The show was absolutely amazing.  The kids actually SAT STILL for more than two minutes and cheered along with the crowd.

Honey suggested I zoom out to give perspective.  I did my best.

This one would be awesome, but my aim was off.

I may or may not have been reaching for a Mini Donut.

Two more for the road.

I can feel my stomach in my throat on that one.

The whole evening was spectacular.  We are really hoping that we can make it to the Abbotsford Airshow next year and for many years after.  We want our kids to have memories of being loved, of having fun, of connecting with each other as we partake in annual traditions.

Do you have any family traditions that you hold dear?  We are new to this, and are open to adding things to further enrich our family experience.  Might as well make it as good as it can be, right?

I thought about doing a tangent about using the term “ass” instead of “hiney” and how God used the term “ass” in the Bible, and I could make it all funny and such.  Except that fellow Jesus lovers would get all upset with my swearing. Then I could talk about how Jesus turned water into wine, and hung out with “sinners”, so maybe “swearing” was not a big deal back then.  But then I thought that maybe the humour would fall on deaf ears and so I let that tangent idea go.

Wait.  Where was I?

Oh, yes.  I am feeling a little overwhelmed.  Nothing unusual, if you are a regular around these parts.  Life gets all CRAZY and I get all FREAKED OUT and then I WRITE A BIG RANT POST and you guys are all, “IT’S GOING TO BE OK” and I am all, “I KNOW” and “I LOVE YOU GUYS”.  And “WHAT WOULD I DO WITHOUT YOU???”

Wait.  Where was I?

Ah, yes.  Crazy.  Per usual.

I cannot blame this particular brand of crazy on work, as I am currently not working.  I am “just” on full-time parenting duty.  This involves hanging out with children who do as I say, act as they are told, and say, “Yes, Ma’am!” whenever I speak.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Wait.  Where was I?

Here is the deal.  I went away for a conference where I got to meet some of the amazing women (WAY more than I linked to!) that I knew online.  I have read some garbage after the fact where people were upset that certain bloggers did not become their BFF’s.  GET A GRIP, people.

I went there to meet people that I already had a connection with.  I did not expect to be BFF’s with people whom I had never been friends with beforehand.  If you did?  You had completely unrealistic expectations.  Seriously.  Another point I would like to make: YOU CANNOT BE CLOSE FRIENDS WITH 1,000 WOMEN.

Shocking, I know.

Wait.  Where was I?

Just busy.  And overwhelmed.  Leaving home for five days threw me off-kilter and I am having a hard time getting my groove back.  I am married to Superman, yes, but some things are my forte (Paying bills! Because I am an accountant!) and they waited for me until I returned.  I feel like I am sprinting to catch up but am running out of steam.  I am also leaving again this weekend for a three-day solo trip to Vancouver (attending a wedding and shooting another).  Upon returning, I start a two-week work contract.

Yes, my head WILL explode.  JUST YOU WAIT.

Wait.  Where was I?

Barely keeping up, that’s where.  In addition to being run-down and overwhelmed, I have three little people who depend on me to make meals, clean their clothes, and wipe a butt crack or two.

There are the primal necessities and then there are the emotional responsibilities.  Other parents can understand what I am saying here.  Kids like boundaries.  Boundaries make them feel safe and secure.  Every once in awhile, they need to test those boundaries to make sure that they are still there.  As per Murphy’s Law, all three kids have chosen THIS WEEK to test those boundaries.  HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY.

This morning was a complete and utter gong show.  I was trying to get everyone fed, dressed, and out the door.  There were shouts (by me) of, “Please get out of your jammies!” and “Stop wrestling on my bed!” and “CAN YOU PLEASE GET YOUR CLOTHES ON FOR THE LOVE OF PETE!!!”

I threw their clothes downstairs while packing the beach bag with snacks and ice water. As I lumbered down the stairs with the gear (Towels, and snacks, and ice water, oh my!), I saw that Miss Emily thought she should help me out by dressing herself.

(Yes, the lighting/photo is crappy, but I WAS CAPTURING A MOMENT.)

Kind of looks like a do-rag, no?

Just wait.  It gets better.

I looked in the rear view mirror and caught sight of my three kooky kids.  Upon arriving at the beach, I thought it best to capture what I saw.

Kids.  They drive you to the bring of insanity, only to bring you back again.

Wait.  Where was I?

Right.  Crazy, but content.  Busy, but blessed.  Tired, but peaceful.  As I should be.

I was hanging the laundry on the clothes line yesterday afternoon.  With almost every piece of clothing I picked up I would recite a quote in my head that was told to me many years ago.

Tops by their bottoms, and bottoms by their tops.

That is the trick to keep from getting clothespin marks on your clothes.  Now you know!

While I hung each piece (Shorts, and shirts, and undies, oh my!) I started thinking about the other sayings I quote to myself in order to get things right.

Whenever I haul out the power tools or take a shower (Daily! Sometimes twice!) I recite and oldie but a goody.

Righty tighty, lefty loosey.

This is to prevent me from drilling holes in my fingers, or from freezing and/or scalding my tush.

Another classic saying helps me with directions.  I cannot for the life of me remember East from West.  Though I do know that I live in Western Canada, so at least there’s that.  However, if I know which way is North, then I am GOOD TO GO.  Starting at the North point, I use my index finger and move clockwise.

Never Eat Shredded Wheat

(North, East, South, West)

(No offense to any Shredded Wheat eaters.)

All along you guys thought I was so smart.  FOOLED YOU.

One of my girlfriends used to get left and right mixed up all the time (Not ME.  I’m SMRT.)  She would hold up each hand, close her pinkie, ring, and middle fingers, which left her index finger and thumb sticking out.

(Go ahead, do it.  I’ll wait.)

The left hand makes an L, which is backwards on the right hand.  She did this more times a day than I could count and it always gave me glee at the innocence of it all.

I cannot be the only one who does this.  How about you?  Are there any sayings that you use frequently to help you figure stuff out?