Hokey Smokes!

Yikes! I pulled up this blog to look at things and realized....it has been *4 YEARS* since I actually updated anyone on all of our crazy adventures! Time to change that, for sure. So I am hereby declaring: I am going to clean this up and get things moving again. I know it isn't a requirement, since many of you usually check in on us directly, but in the name of family friendliness, good neighborness, and being able to start sharing our fun adventures without writing novels on social media I'm going to start cleaning things up starting with the house (the never-ending-mountain) and here online. So please pardon my dust, things are going to be shaking up soon!

For those who like to be forewarned and forearmed, lol, I'm going to be posting side-snippets here about what happens in our family's life in ways that are a bit more secure...ie: we won't put up anywhere near as many pictures filled with kids' faces (sorry, there are too many folks out there who don't need such and abuse it), but we'll share a bit about what is happening with our family projects. For the kids, that means I'll put up updates about their projects (scouts, school, experiments, etc). For John, that will probably mean mostly glorious foodie successes that will be cross-posted with the business. For me, lol, that means all of the scattered chaos that is my life including everything from cooking adventures, reading lists, weight loss/healthy living adventures, all the business background stuffs, and church stuff including fhe lessons, etc. (Can you tell yet who is the primary blogger here?)

Ok, now I'm off to start figuring out all of these fhe lessons (yep, I'll share them) so be sure to stay tuned...lol, or consider yourselves forewarned to keep hiding? ;) 

A Remembrance

I've been trying all morning long to figure out what to say.  I know I don't usually blog often (ok, so I'm pathetic about it) but I've noticed how everyone has been putting up the "Never Forget" pictures on facebook, around the web on websites and blogs, and all around the social media spin.  It is something I can agree with, but in between them have been some truly incredible reminders of life.  Pictures of babies pulling goofy faces, stories of rough mornings, unlooked for answers suddenly popping up, all in between the squeals and screams of my own littles playing on the floor at my feet.  It leaves me in awe of how much life has to offer, in all it's roller coaster glory.

I know I will never forget that moment when I turned on my car radio and heard about the first attack on the World Trade Center, nor my horror as I pulled off to the side of the road when they started talking of another plane crashing into the towers.  Moments such as that are seared into your brain, and show in unexpected ways over the coming days whenever you kiss a loved one, hug a friend, or feel a hot tear roll down your cheeks.  I know my children, even the ones who weren't born yet, remember this day because of the sounds and images they get at school and the curiosity they feel when they ask about that stray tear on my cheek.  I also know that they and their friends have given me some of the very best answers for those memories, however, whenever they move on from the quiet to the ordinary steps of the day (making messes at the table, scribbling over coloring books, fighting and laughing with their siblings, etc)...because they are reminder to me of how life moves on.  One moment to the next, with all of its horribly wonderful twists, turns, ups, and downs we keep rattling along. 

So the best I can do at this point is simply to offer my prayers to those who have daily reminders of the 9-11 attacks, my thanks to those who have sacrificed so much to keep such from continuing on our shores and others, and my gratitude for my blessings.  I don't know how many people will read this, but for those of you who do...God bless and keep you and may you find yourself giggling, chasing, and remembering with a heart of love.

THAT Stage In Life.....

At the moment, it is quiet in the house save for a little bit of almost whispered noise from the tv (which I have on though quiet to help me get through to when my other half walks in the door from an evening shift at work).  Today was the last day of school, and I hope you'll all forgive me if I wax a little philosophical and more long-winded than normal (yes that is possible) while the house settles to the quiet whispers of a post-bedtime sleep. 

A little while ago, I had an article recommended to me.  It's titled "To Parents of Small Children: Let Me Be The First One Who Says It Out Loud".  It is a great article that (or so it is quoted as saying) first showed up on The Actual Pastor (a website perhaps?), but basically it is a guy who has 3 kids under the age of 5 who is figuring out that it is ok not to be super human, and that parents of young kids don't have to be perfect all the time.  That you are still a decent parent if you break down and yell at your kids for mouthing off at you, if there are times you'd rather be at work instead of at home, and even if you slightly lose your temper while dishing out a consequence for when those little darlings have acted the part of a terrorist.  My favorite quote from the article, and one that has helped me regain my sanity a few times in the last couple of months in particular is this one:


"I have to confess that sometimes, the sound of his screaming drives me to hide in the pantry. And I will neither confirm nor deny that while in there, I compulsively eat chips and/or dark chocolate. There are people who say this to me:
"You should enjoy every moment now! They grow up so fast!"
I usually smile and give some sort of guffaw, but inside, I secretly want to hold them under water. Just for a minute or so. Just until they panic a little."

There is no doubt what so ever that this is an incredibly apt description of the way a parent of multiple young children feels.  I remember one evening about 2 months after our 3rd child was born.  All my babies have come via c-section, and the repeat surgeries had taken their toll plus recovery was anything but smooth after this little one thanks to a funky fold in the incision as it had set to healing which exposed all the nerve endings until they finally (and blissfully) sealed over entirely closing close to 3 months of torture.  In the middle of all that loveliness, our 2nd had been lucky enough to need surgery himself which miserably meant that he needed to be lifted and held even while I was unable to properly do so.  We FINALLY managed to begin limping beyond that...and then someone gave our oldest the flu.  I kid you not, I did not sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time for nearly a month between bouts of pain, struggling to snuggle a whimpering 2 yr old while nursing a newborn, and jumping whenever anyone started that brain clenching heaving sound with a bowl in front of them.....and then the bug hit me.  That was when an incredibly sweet church member (a woman whom I will never forget and am still lucky enough to call friend) heard about our dilemma and surprised me at the door one night just after I realized my husband had run out the door to work (late because of all the insanity happening at home which he'd been attempting to handle by himself) without leaving any dinner for those hungry little tummies feeling up to it.

The quiet knock came just as I had started to stare hard at the fridge, knowing there was no bread left.  Before I could stop her, my 5 yr old daughter (who was of course feeling better by now and all kinds of cooped up) had darted to the door and thrown it open.  This sweet lady took one look inside at the chaos and me in my pj's, walked in the door, and proceeded to put dinner on the table for the little ones with one hand while simultaneously pushing me onto the couch to hold the crying baby with the other.  Amazingly enough, even after she finished that, she actually stayed for a little while after to visit with me (I must have looked like one of those Looney Toons characters with the spinning eyes at this point) and help me put the little ones to bed.  Then she quietly gathered her dishes up and went home, leaving me curled up in the corner of the couch and feeling the first sane peace I'd had in weeks.  The very next day, since everyone was better enough to go, we risked our first trip to the grocery store to get some of the bread and such where a very sweet looking old grandma leaned over to me (after she'd heard me get irritated at the still energized 5 yr old and cranky 2 yr old) patted me on the back of my hand and said those same fateful words "They grow up so fast, and one day you'll miss these days".  Fortunately, by this time I was pretty much numb so instead of committing aggravated assault I simply smiled and nodded, we got through the lines and the car ride home, put the kids to bed...and my husband held me while I cried and wished for that day when I COULD miss those days....

But then the previous night came to me.  Suddenly, I was able to straighten up and dry my tears.  And life picked up and moved on.  School years have come and gone with the children growing with each of them, we've added one more darling to our choir of angels, started a business, and have actually begun to see the light at the end of the endless tunnel of diapers which has left me with a kind of odd, floating feeling.  That feeling comes with the realization that I have only 1 year left with my littlest one and then....they are all in school.  Yes, life will definitely have taken a firm grip on the other side of the parenthood survival mode that comes complete with dating, the non-stop round of sports events and concerts, scouts and youth activities, camping trips, teen drivers, and a likely never ending case of "Mom, there's nothing to eat in the kitchen", but....how is a girl supposed to prep for that while she's still feeling that the light at the end of the tunnel could possible be the light from the oncoming toddler-driven train?

The answer is surprisingly simple.  You see, I did it.  I survived the fog of chaos that can drive a parent to hide in the pantry where the chips and dark chocolate beckon.  I have not been super-woman (you know, that woman who works 40 hours a week, ferries kids to every ballet, piano, and swim lesson along with attending the soccer and little league games with out missing a beat to make and serve a 5 course meal to the table on time every night, yet still magically helping the children get the homework completed plus one extra credit project for those kids to turn in at the end of the week all while maintaining that gorgeous size 6 figure with perfectly coiffed hair and enough energy to keep her husband eager to spend cuddle time at the end of the day)......I have been a real woman.  A woman who succumbs to fast food or freezer meals along with a few homemade and some veggie snacks, who looks terrible in a hat but uses (even makes) them endlessly just to hide the hair and lack of make-up, whose children are typically turning in homework projects late (though thankfully, their test scores manage to look great thanks to their genius), and anticipates the moment when everyone is giving bedtime hugs and kisses just before racing ahead of the "mama ants" to get to bed before the pinching can begin just so she can breathe with the house a little and relish the adult voices coming from the tv instead of cartoon effects.  (And no, not one of you is allowed to correct that horrendous grammar...not one of you.)

What's more?  This real woman, while still struggling to remember all of the moments hidden by the fog of chaos from those sleeplessly insane weeks and months, can still giggle at the left over smell from a peanut butter kiss, loves being greeted by the stick-figure family portraits whenever the fridge door is opened, can't get over the rib-crushing hug attacks from a boy about to grow into that hulking teen, and grins teary eyed as she is watching the 12 year old bounce from secretly mooning over "that boy from 6th period" to diving into the pretend games invented for playtime with the littler siblings.  In some ways, I'm still there...I still hit the panic button when the terrorists emerge and begin arguing, when the "That's MINE!" screams become claws on the chalkboard, and I still have that secret stash of dark chocolate chips hidden where even the husband hasn't found them.  But....THAT moment, the moment when you find yourself saying to some poor, blank-eyed mother with toddlers spilling out of the grocery cart "They grow up so fast" is staring at me. 

I guess this is what I'm trying to say, in all my meandering broken grammar is this: You can do it.  You can find your way through all the pain, through all the vomit-bowls, the doctor appointments, the diapers, the midnight feedings, the terror-frozen parent-teacher conferences with preschool teachers to please "I'm trying"...to find this amazing moment in time when you can look yourself in the eye and say, "I did it.  I'm there, and I didn't have to be perfect because what they really needed was the real woman that I am.  They are now and are going to be amazing...because I did it, and that simple success is sweeter even than heaven-kissed chocolate." 

I still don't know what I'm going to do with this next leg of life.  I know it is coming, and waaaaaaay too quickly too.  But for this brief moment in time, even if it only lasts this one night, I'm going to sit back and just smile because I am so lucky that tomorrow will bring more PB&J sandwiches, more friends crashing through the door and calls for babysitting, more jelly-printed fingermarks on the wall, more laundry than even Mt. Everest could hold, and an endless day filled with the sounds of giggling, crying, "Mom!" yells, and above all the heart that just keeps on gushing..."You're the luckiest woman on earth.  Enjoy this moment, because they grow up sooo fast." 

They Who Are With Us

One week ago, we started 'battening down the hatches' because when we woke up Sunday 4 out of the 6 of us were sick, and shortly after that we added yet one more.  Surprise, surprise, we decided that we wouldn't spread that kind of love to the rest of our ward so we all stayed home in the hopes that we'd all get better that much faster.  Unfortunately, here we are 1 week later with only 3 of us healthy enough to go to church (and that is NOT including the parents who are both feeling like we've been run over by a Mach truck then thrown into the trash compactor).  So we're hanging out at the house instead of going to church yet again, though at least this week the oldest two kids are going to Primary?

While we're hanging out here, trying to rest up, we've been listening to a local radio station who broadcasts the Sounds for Sundays (on Q92 here in Utah, if you want to look it up).  This is a pre-programmed series of songs and such that runs from 5am to 7pm every Sunday which is specifically geared towards the valley's Christian/LDS audience.  It is really great for us, especially given that LDS music is often very different from mainstream Christian music.  One other benefit that we enjoy from the programming is that there are bit-narratives that are included with the music which shares some insights into different scriptural stories along with uplifting personal stories.

The narrative that caught my attention today was about when Elisha the prophet's servant received a bit of a shock one morning.  The Assyrian king was severely frustrated because Elisha kept anticipating his moves (when he was attacking Israel) and telling the Israelite king about things such that the Assyrians were unable to succeed in their intended goals.  So he decided to lay claim to Elisha so that he was unable to render such aid any longer, and sent an army to cut him off.  One morning, Elisha's servant went to go and fetch water from the well to be surprised and frightened by the oncoming crowd of armed soldiers, chariots, etc.  He ran to give warning to his master who came and looked calmly.  When the servant asked, "What are we to do?" knowing that it was just he and Elisha against all of those soldiers, Elisha calmly answered "They who are with us are more than they who are with them."  He then prayed that his servant's eyes would be opened (which they were) to behold the heavenly host poised and ready to defend them against their attackers.

I was laying here, feeling a bit miserable and frustrated (after all, I have more to do than just be so sick so much of the time which has been dragging us down), and was thinking about what I would see if I asked for such.  Then came suddenly to my minds eye a running visual scan of so many loved one's faces: my friend Dani who has been doing so much to help boost my efforts with the business lately, Kelley giving me the opportunity to teach crochet classes at the local high-end yarn shop, Casey and Mariah picking up their kids, Casey fixing our van's brakes just before we lost the brakes entirely (and likely would've crashed), Brittany's smiling face whenever she's popped out to help us jump our van when it was cold(er), the way I'll have a student run up to me yelling "Mrs. Martin!" to give me a hug at the store, the voices of my parents over the phone as we share info about what has happened during the week, the loves, giggles, and cuddles from 4 little imps at the dinner table every day,....I could go on and on.  And that is just in my life and what is immediately in front of my eye as I see so many beloved family faces, dear friends, friendly community members, fellow brothers and sisters from church, and amazing people I meet online.

There are times, especially during an age where we send our loved ones away to war or to protect, when we need that fiery heavenly host armed for battle against a host armed with weapons intending physical harm.  Yet during this modern age and for those of us more mundane people in our homes, there are often even more times when we need that same host sent to protect us, even though they come only armed with jokes, hugs, plates of treats, requests for help, babysitting offers, 2x4 poles of inspiration, spiritual promptings, and so much more than even they realize.

I'll never stop being thankful for that amazing heavenly host.  Each and every one.  Nor, with a heart overflowing and eyes spilling over, for the One who sends them.  That heavenly host truly glows when your "eyes are opened to see", let me tell you.  It is quite enough to take your breath away.  Or to give breath when it couldn't be found before.

It's official folks!

I know a lot of people are thinking that I'm crazy, but.....drum roll....we decided that it was time for me to quit my teaching job at the school. 

I've been the luckiest woman on the face of the plant with my job (where I was working as an Instructional Aide at Hillcrest Elementary.....basically, I was teaching the reading power hour groups) where I've been for the last year a half, except for summer break.  The teachers and staff are amazing people who care a great deal for each other and especially for their students on levels that you'd never realize if your only work experience was in offices/stores/etc.  The levels of support that are freely given to each other there are quite enough, but then there are the kids who drive you bananas at the same time as charm you into doing pretty much anything for them.  I've learned sooo much about how education works now (especially compared to when I was growing up) and amazing ways to help my own kids through this job, but even more: I've learned what it means to work with people who are willing to sacrifice most anything (including their own peace of mind and health at times much less financial security for themselves and likely their families) to help people, especially children, to reach for their own potential....and even more to begin to see that what they assume is their potential is so much more beyond what they ever could have realized.  (I know a lot of people who read this will likely assume that I'm exaggerating.....I really am not.  When you see a light bulb go off in a child's head and their eyes light up realizing that they CAN do whatever is being presented to them and that they have so much more they can do besides, you literally see their potential growing along with their understanding.)  On top of that, the school where I've been working is filled with people that it has been my privilege to call not just co-worker but friend. People who will jump up with a smile to help if your car is giving you fits, discuss ways not only to help your students or theirs but also your own kids of all ages, bringing you sugar to boost a low moment or just a joke to brighten a frustrating day,....I kid you not, these people are some of the absolute best out there.

So why am I leaving all that behind?  Well, as much as I've loved and adored my job....we aren't able to grow financially the way our family needs us to if we just stay where we are.  Our business has been growing a great deal, enough so that I'm left confident in being able to replace the paycheck I have been earning at the school with the profits from sales within the business especially once we get to the farmer's market season.....but that takes a great deal more time than most people realize. 

Last fall, I experienced a hard lesson in how to not only say "No" but to tell myself "Enough" (yep, let's just say that going through regular times of no sleep followed by 3 days of no sleep which led me to nearly messing up my own son's baptism.....that is what I'm talking about) and that it is ok.  That was also a point where I looked at my children playing and working together and realized....they have actually been taking on the things that I as Mom am supposed to be doing without any of us realizing it.  That was the "ENOUGH" moment.  The only question left was "How?".

By the time Christmas Break came, John and I were both pretty convinced that we were facing the need to make a choice between my keeping my job at the school or keeping our business open.  One or the other was going to have to go, and then business picked up even more.  Don't get me wrong, we are still not anywhere close to rolling in the dough, but with the increases in traffic, special requests that keep coming from different quarters, and new opportunities being opened.....yeah, there just wasn't enough time in the day for all of that, keeping up with house, home, and family, AND working at the school.  When Christmas Break ended and I went back to school....we'll just say that all the prepping in the world during the holidays and long weekends were NOT going to be enough time to keep up.  Then, the weekend before school started, we found out that if I were careful about the timing I'd be able to take a business associates certification program through a local tech college that I'd be able to have finished before school starts in the Fall....IF I started by the end of February.  That was the final straw (if you think I was going bonkers being behind with teaching and doing the business, can you imagine how bad it would be if I added college to that?!).  So, a few days after going back to school and sorting out different schedule changes that were coming, I handed in my resignation that would be effective when the reading groups changed.  That means....as of two days ago, I no longer work at Hillcrest Elementary.

Whoa, actually writing that is surprisingly gut-wrenching.  If you can't tell from the words I'm typing in here, I'm blubbering like a baby thinking about how much I'm going to miss my job, my students, and my co-workers.  Yet I'm also looking forward to tomorrow and implementing all the changes that we have in front of us.  It is a kind of relief that....well, let me describe it this way: you know how cozy a room can be during the winter months, yet as the world edge towards spring that coziness becomes almost suffocating until a slight breeze blows through a room?  Not enough to chill, mind you, just enough to make everything fresh and comfortable again.  In a lot of ways, that is a lot like how this has been for me.  Just like how that breeze makes it possible to breathe again, inspite of the brief chill, it brings with it a particular kind of relief that makes everything rosy and exciting again.  Changes come, and if we don't adapt and change with them then we stagnate and turn to a dusty pillar blown away by the wind.

It reminds me a bit of the story of Lehi and Nephi from the Book of Mormon.  They were in a place they not only knew, but were extremely comfortable and happy in.  Their home was very comfortable, they were wealthy, had a great many friends and loved ones around them, and they had a great deal of respect as well.  But a great change was coming, and they were told to leave it all behind.  So, even though like Noah and Lot, they packed their things and slipped away from all that had made their lives so comfortable guided in a way that led them into the complete unknown but protected and with a tremendous blessing just waiting for them once they followed instructions, kept the faith, and continued putting one step in front of the other.  As they took those steps, instruction came to them as to how to fill their needs.  As they followed those instructions, the means to follow instructions came.  And as those means were used appropriately, their journey led them to a treasured and priceless land so filled with promise.  Now, that's not to say that once they reached that land they lived happily ever after.  Quite to the contrary, especially for those who refused to obey any longer.  Yet, for both those who continued to live in obedience AND for those who decided that they were finished with obedience, they had escaped a disaster that they were not even aware of and were free completely.  That which they'd left behind was replaced and added to, and their descendants reaped the rewards of such action.  And much like in the story of Lot from the Bible if they'd looked back and returned to their home before all the hard work as Lot's wife did when she turned to a pillar of salt which would have been blown away by the wind and sand, they'd have been blown away by the winds of fate as their home was taken in war in which case they'd likely have been slain or enslaved and not had any descendants nor anything to give them if they'd been fortunate enough for such.

Now, I'm not saying that we're headed for a great promised land....but in a way, whenever you go towards what God has in store for you then you are heading towards that promised land.  That land is not always filled with great honor and respect which you will be able to revel it, and it may not be filled with fluffy security blankets to cocoon yourself in, and it likely isn't filled with great heaping mounds of money to roll in and throw in the air....but a life of peace, family, love, and freedom - yeah, that is worth all the sacrifice.  That doesn't mean that you don't think about happy times from the past but it does mean moving forward, one step at a time. 

So I guess this is one of my steps forward, a little at a time.  I guess we'll see where we go from here, but it will be filled with grand blessings...of that I am sure.