my ghouls

In honor of All Hallow's Eve, I have bunkered down and written a list of my ghouls for next year. It's a tradition I look forward to doing every year, as I am a ghoulish type of person.

Here is what made the list this year:

1. Climb Mt. Borah. (This one is a repeat, but I had to take a minor detour this year. And she is super cute.)

2. Read more of the classics. (This one makes me cheery.)

3. Get my garden in super-model shape. (I fill you in on the details of this one later.)

4. Run a half-marathon. (Imagine somewhat of a scared but determined look on my face.)

There you go. Bring it on, 2010.

sneaky

So it turns out that the mouse we saw in the living room isn't the only pest living in our home. Our two boys, you may have heard of them--Roman and Greggs? have been known to have a bit of a scavenger side to them.

To illustrate:

Instead of an alarm clock, I know that every morning I will be woken up to the screeching sound of chairs being moved around in the kitchen. Unfortunately, it's not my dear husband making me breakfast in bed, it's my two little rascals looking for food. Normally, it's not a problem, this exploring and rummaging, I consider it a lesson in not only self-preservation but independence. But since they don't exactly have a craving for frozen broccoli or the spaghetti squash that's been sitting in my "help yourself bowl!" it's always the sweets that invariably get attacked first. And since I consider myself a decent mother that requires a desire to have my children to eat something besides chocolate cake for breakfast, this poses as a bit of a predicament.

And lately they've gotten a bit more aggressive in their hunting and gathering efforts. If there is not food in plain sight on the counters then they will climb on top of the counters to investigate in the cupboard. It's always the fantasy of finding the last chocolate chip in the cupboard that motivates this behavior. Sometimes they'll get lucky and find candy that even I didn't know we had.

This just fuels the fire as you can see.

So what to do in this situation? Well, I've learned to put food that I want them to eat directly on the counter, sometimes making it even easier for them by leaving a trail of crumbs from their bedrooms directly to the "prize". But mostly, I've learned that if I don't want my kids to eat a certain something then I just can't have it in the house. At all.

Oh yes, I've mourned for the lost dreams of having chocolate candy bowls sprinkled throughout my house, but I realize that with kids, you can't have everything.

So after only a few minutes of internal debate, the boys have it. They can stay. I'll just save the chocolate candy bowls for the grandkids.

capture

Last evening Weston and I spotted a mouse in our living room.

What's more fun than watching Weston bound down the stairs while wacking the broom and dodging flying broom debris?

Hearing Weston scream like a little girl when the mouse suddenly changes direction.

Ah, good times.

cleaning glee

Confession: Sometimes my children's rooms get so messy that I daren't go inside. I just shut their doors and will the mess to go away. It doesn't always work so then I prepare for a battle that usually ensues about getting it clean. It's a lot of work.

The other day I was sitting in the living room minding my own business when Brooklyn approached me and enthusiastically encouraged me to go into my bedroom. I sensed a scheme into play but I played along anyway. Upon entering my boudoir I found my bed haphazardly all made up (by the way, I 99.9% of the time make my bed, I just happened to be doing something else that day) and a grinning little girl standing right beside it. Also, upon my pillow rested a little hand-drawn red heart.

Brooklyn then told me that in church that day (oh yeah, the thing I was doing that day was getting 5 1/2 people ready for church. Sometimes Weston needs help) she learned about serving and that her assignment was to do an act of service and leave the heart sign behind to let the receiver know that he/she had just been served with love. And the best part was that she actually enjoyed making my bed. She was actually excited about cleaning just to surprise me.

That got me thinking.

Today upon returning home from school I told Brooklyn to go look on her pillow. She appeared slightly confused until she discovered a little crayon heart paper resting there.

Surrounded by a wonderfully clean bedroom.

I think she liked it. I think I like the fact that her room became spotless without
-yelling
-crying
-frustration
-giving up
-etc.

This could be fun.

halloween fun

A video to make all your dreams come true. Or. . .maybe just for a laugh.

http://sendables.jibjab.com/view/Y6XPVo7X3iTsYTeP

(Thanks Mel for the idea!)

two

For his second year of life, Greggory received lots of cars, bug cupcakes made by his aunt, some clothes, a ball, and a big attitude!
Since the little tyke turned two, he's already sent me to time-out nine times and his favorite phrase has suddenly become "hate that!"

So, why is it that if he is so ornery do I still find him utterly irresistable?

some thoughts

It seems like lately all I've been doing is the very same thing every single day. Wake up. Prayers (in which I always pray that I can have enough energy to make it through the day, oh, and that my children will not die) Get kids breakfast. Give Greggory a bath. Clean house. Exercise. Quick shower. Lunch. Possible give Greggory another bath. Storytime. Naptime (for everyone, even me). Playtime. Dinner. Scriptures. Bed. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Sometimes I think I will go crazy.

And yet, it's not all drudgery. I've learned to take as much pleasure as possible in the littlest things. For example:
a working vacuum brings a lot of joy.
Magic Erasers are reason enough to get up in the morning.
A new kind of cheese for my lunch sandwich makes me smile.
I've also learned that there is no substitute for premium laundry detergent.

I've also learned to enjoy my children for their little accomplishments as well.
Brooklyn's anxiety about riding the bus as completely subsided and that is reason enough to celebrate.
Roman's announcement about "hitting the hole" in the toilet always brings a sigh of relief.
and whenever Greggory attaches a "pwetty pwease?" to his requests makes me hug him tight.

So the grand thought here is that life is all about the little moments. The difference in the overall quality of my life is to be grateful for the little things.

And I think I have a pretty good life.