He walks, for his mom, on Christmas Eve

Can it get any better than this?

I was just thinking of a year ago.  Being pregnant with Mark.  Huge, uncomfortable.  Unable to eat most foods without a gallbladder attack.    And this year, still hurting.  But baby Mark was here! 

I picked you up, and we giggled as I nibbled on Mark's chunky arms and legs.  He laughs so easily.  Peek-a-boo is a great game.  Then I stood you up, hoping to get to see your first steps.  I was worried that Nanny Julie, or your siblings, or Dad would get the first steps.  We knew he was on the verge of walking.   Mark could stand and do squats without holding on to anything. 

Christmas Eve, after the big kids were in bed.  After Santa had come.  Grant was on the computer in the bedroom.  Stina was on the laptop in the living room.  And Mark and I were laughing and learning and having our own private moment in the family room. 

He took his first step for me.  Then we tried again, and he took two steps before falling into me.  In no time Mark was  taking more steps.  His record in the first hour of taking a step is 10 steps in a row.    I hope this video of Mark's first night of walking is enjoyed.

This video was taken in the glow of the Christmas lights, within the hour of Mark taking his first step.   Mom Rachel is in the baggy blue PJ's.  Aunt Stina is in the red. 

(Geek Grant wants you to know that we're using this as a test of Google's and Microsoft live's video services)

Bar of soap: I hate thee

Oh bar of soap,
I hate thee so!

When thee were new, thou was a gift.
I turned thirty and relished in your magnolia scent.

When our Thanksgiving guests came, I offered them
The fresh, unopened bar that was you.

Then you sat in the shower head basket.
An entire fortnight.

Were you lonely?
Didn't you enjoy watching the kids play in the bath?
Wasn't it fun when the girls drank hot chocolate in there?

But tonight, oh bar of soap, I hate thee.

I found three of my four children covered in thee.
The oldest two had washed off the slickness off their hands
Yet the smell remained. Not-so-sweet-now Magnolia.

Katie's arm was covered to her armpit with you.
I thought I was done after rinsing the sink handles
Seven times seven.
I thought that wiping the mounds of soap with a dry cloth would be enough

But naughty soap, you have deceived me.
I came back a fort-hour later and found you
Covering the outside handle of the bathroom door

But lo, that was not enough for thee.
Also on the bathroom door and and inside handle
I wiped the scum of you, off my dwelling.

Now, you reside in my bathroom.
But be warned bar of soap
If thee causes me a rash
Or if thee spreads soap again
Hence the trashcan will be thy home.

Bar of soap.
I hate thee.

I want to know if Santa is real....

Christmas Eve we left a treat for Santa. The kids came up with all the ideas. A glass of Rice Milk in a snowman glass, with some chocolate bark a friend gave us. (Emily got it all together) Alex roasted extra marshmallows over our Christmas Eve fire...then put them in a yellow bowl with a spoon. Emily wrote the note to Santa. She added something extra this year, all on her own.

This is 5:30 am. Yes. Blame the girl with the paper. She woke up EVERYONE, including the baby and Aunt Stina. Thanks Emily, for tap dancing in the kitchen after you woke up the kids.

When I took this photo, she was jumping up and down with enthusiasm. With a grin, she shouted, "He's real, he's real! Santa is real! He signed my paper! I knew it! I knew he was real!". So what does the purple paper say?

.

.

"Dear Santa

Please draw a heart in the cerlce (circle) if you are alav (alive).

Love,

Alex, Emily, Y, Grant, Rachel" (I don't know why two kids were left out, or why the y)

.

In the circle, Santa did more than draw a heart. In fancy handwriting that could only come from the old man in the north pole, it says,

"Emily, You are one Lovede Girl, Santa"

.

I don't know if Lovede is the old North Pole word for loved, or if Santa was just really really tired by the time he got to our house. Emily didn't ask.

.

Yes, Emily, Santa is real. And today Santa and Santa are really tired.

#1, Cutting bangs......Things I'm bad at

Merry Christmas Eve...here are my Christmas Eve Eve musings.

#1 I suck at cutting kids bangs or hair.

#2 I suck at closing emotional cans of worms

#3 I suck at not caring what people think about me

#4 I suck at double negatives

#5 I suck at paying attention to my children

#6 I suck at being positive while I'm in pain.

#7 I suck at being positive when I'm down.

#8 I suck at letting sleeping dogs lie (IE, leaving emotional baggage shut)

#8 I suck at having photo calls free of children screaming.

#8 I suck at numbering.

#9 I suck at faking "I'm fine" when people ask "how are you?".

#10 I suck at gauging people's intelligences

#11 I suck at building my self esteem.

Really, I promise to do a positive list another day. I'm half laughing as I write this. I'd add pictures to prove my points, but then I'd get my ego bruised more by hurting peoples worms that are shoved into those cans.

But the main point of this is that I suck at cutting people's hair....

Before, getting her hair stuck in her peppermints ice cream float at FHE

After, happy that she can see again. Look at me! Look at the butchering I did to Katleyn. GRANT'S "bangs" are LONGER than his girls! I wish I could blame the snow for our bad hair cuts. But having a good haircut is VERY LOW on my daily living priority list. And I don't care to pay 10$ plus tip just for bangs. After spending an hour to get there, wait, clean up. Oh, and spending my few sitting hours getting a hair cut.

How to drink hot chocolate in a clean kitchen

We are snowed in. Again. What you see on the car's review mirror was just collected from Sunday afternoon to Monday morning. 3 inches of Seattle snow= 2 feet of Colorado snow.

The kids are having the best winter break ever, as they get to slide on their bellies down the middle of the street WITH ADULT PERMISSION! Usually they get yelled at if they bike to close to the middle.

Our back yard fence tells the story. The snow is up to a foot in some places. The wind blew down most of it. Emily gleefully brought us solid squares of snow from between the fence posts. And we, my baby sister Stina and I, gleefully smiled as she was outside, and we were warm inside. In fact, we were very warm. Working up a sweat, cleaning the kitchen. I wish I had a decent before photo of the mess. But, I don't. I'll work on it.

Here is the shiny, hand cleaned breakfast nook (our only eating area). So clean. Look, it is free of jelly smears and puddles of coconut water. Yes, coconut water. Grant bought Emily a fresh coconut, and they opened it. On my side of the table. So when I sat down for Sunday dinner, I had a nice, damp and sticky surprise. I LOVE surprises, especially when they are damp and sticky.

Here is our table and chairs, pushed into the hallway/living room. AFTER they had been scrubbed. Ahh...clean table, free of dried on baby food and other unknown matter that collects only on the kids side of the table.

Here is my darling sister, Stina, on her break from college. Done with finals. On her hands and knees scrubbing her big sisters floor. It took her over an hour to get the before mentioned food grim free from under the kids side of the table. Why? Why kids? We clean after every meal. Yet, they eat against the wall, so my eyes don't see it until it multiplies and replenishes the floor. Ahh, at least the crumbs are keeping the commandments in our house. But we toil and preserver. Stina on the floors. Me on the counters. I can see my counters! My lentil container is back in the cupboard, where I took it from three months ago.

Ahh, clean kitchen. REALLY CLEAN kitchen, that I got to help clean. With my sister. While the big kids were out in the snow. And the babies were....sleeping? or being watched by Grant. I was in a cleaning zone, I can't be bothered to remember those details. Time to relax, Christmas style.

Hot Chocolate! (Oh and did you noticed Stina and I were wearing the same shirts? Our Eastman School of Music shirts, homage to our gifted opera sister, Annie)

Enjoying the clean kitchen lasted...hmm...it didn't. Before we got the table moved back in, Emily and one of the neighbors came in to warm up. My living room has been turned into a snow boot and coat drying zone. The girls wanted hot chocolate. Now? NOW? Don't they realize that the rare beauty, like finding a diamond in a mine, that is a clean kitchen? A floor they could eat off of? But why should I let THEM eat off of it. THEY messed it up.

Then I thought of a comprise. There was one place in the house I was willing to let them drink hot chocolate. It was something that I read in "Glimpses of Marjorie Hinckley"......

THE BATHTUB! I was willing to let them drink that hot cocoa with extra marshmallows, if they were willing to drink it in the once easy place to clean it up. Katelyn was told that there was hot chocolate in the bath, so she is in process of taking of her shirt. We assume she thinks that this is necessary to get the hot chocolate.

So back to the Hinckley book....President Hinckley was a loving grand (and great grand) father. He loved to spoil his grandkids. He loved giving them soda when they visited. But he also was practical. He had white carpet in his apartment. So they could have all the soda they wanted to drink, but they had to drink it in the bathtub.

Gotta love compromise!

Later that night (as I walked thru my still clean kitchen)....

Mark needed a bath. Every diaper for days is requiring a change of clothes. And often a bath. But the weather has most doctor's offices closed. We don't know if this is a bug, or an allergic reaction.....but I digress. The point is, hours after the girls had their hot chocolate, I looked in the bathtub


This is the bathtub...with the anti-slip ducks for safety...spattered with hot chocolate.

I'm so glad that I made them go in the bathtub. It took a few splashed of water to go way. Instead of the mess that a drop of hot chocolate could make in a kitchen....

Can't wait to here your messy or hot chocolate stories as the snow gets most of us

If we don't look, they will go away....

Hmmm...with a title like this, I can think of many parenting moments I have thought or used this sentence. But this post is not about parenting. It's about Christmas, and the joy of giving homemade treats to neighbors (and if your lucky, friends because your neighbors have become your friends). This year was AWESOME because our nanny, Julie, has been bored since Thanksgiving. So she's been making all kinds of cookies. And I eat a few, then freeze most of them for cookie plates. Hmm..at the price we pay her an hour, they were pricy cookies!

So for the first time in years, my neighbors got yummy cookies. Chocolate chip cookies made in a muffin tin (like a cupcake made a baby with Mrs. Field's cookie); Jello cookies with lemon and apricot Jello, with chopped Mandarin orange for extra flavor. It was like a tropical smoothie in my mouth. And chocolate covered peppermint bark. And gingersnaps...sure they were really failed gingerbread men, but they made really good gingersnaps. I wish we still had some!

The girls helped get the cookies on the plates, and wrap them up. Then the boys happily put them on their sleds and we headed off. 14 houses. In 6 inches of powdery snow. Felt more like 8 or 9. And that all fell TODAY. Gotta love snow days! Oh, and did I mention I had been saving the cookies in the freezer? I hope they thawed a bit, but maybe the neighbors will think they got so cold in during the journey. That was our first (and perhaps only) year delivering treats by sled!

Here are the cookie plates, having their ribbons curled

Here we are going up the street, pulling the cookies (look for the brown paper bags). It was packed ice where the cars had been. And deep fluff in the ruts. Yes, this is going up hill. The boys would run, and belly flop on their sleds. Reminds me of the penguins during migrations.

Here we are crossing the street as Rachel yells orders to keep everyone together. It sucks when a doorbell is rung while half the group is down the street, and Mom is digging for the right plate!

Even Grant made it out for a few houses with the tiny one. Oh, and the extra kids? We had a few neighborhood kids join us. It sure made for great caroling, but confusing glances as doors were opened to our family and and extra 4 kids wrapped in snow gear!

Kate's the only one facing the camera. She was jumping along with the singing, "Jingle Bells" and trying to say Jingle bells at the right time. This happened to be her first house, and she was bursting with joy.

Afterwards, we gave the kids hot chocolate (second time today, both medically needed to warm up). Rachel tried to burn the house down when she didn't look closely at the stove before turning it on.

"Only to Christan." We didn't know a Christan, but Christina shared them with the cold carollers.

This is a note to Aunt Christina that was with a plate of cookies. A plate that was on the stove, next to the full pot of water. Still full from morning hot chocolate. So turning the stove on high and walking away seemed rational. I was in a hurry to get back to the front door and save my wood floors from the children's pants. The snow hung like velcro from their pants. Boots and coats can be left on the front porch, but not pants. That's something we only do at Grandma Z's. (ahhh, another story, another day)

Oh the title of this blog....if we don't look, they will go away

We have these neighbors across the street. Three boys, living together. Sometimes a serious girlfriends. But three dark haired guys, so I can never remember names and faces. I wanted to treat them, and give them a card from our family, so they know why our yard is so crappy. And maybe know our names.

So I tell the kids to stop, this house is one. The kids start singing Jingle Bells as we walk up to the door (this is house number 10, they have it down). I see heads bobbing on a couch. They just put in new windows, and there are no curtains.

As I get closer, I see faces. They see my face. They look away. Away from the TV, away from the door. In their own home, they look at the floor. We get on the porch, still singing VERY loud. Finally one of the kids rings the door bell. NONE of the guys gets up. Its like they think that if they just don't look, we'll go away. Hmmm...maybe they aren't people. Maybe they are mannequins, a high tech security thing. Finally nice guy (one guy who always cleans up after the fireworks twice a year) gets up. When, still singing, we hand him the cookie plate, he SMILES! Then we leave the mannequins alone to ignore us as we wander down to the next house. I was laughing so hard, I'm sure they heard me. I wonder if they thought we put poison in them. Because we really never talk to them. Maybe a "hi". But they never asked about my growing belly, or new born in my arms. (hey, where did you steal that one from?)

Three people gave us treats. One was coffee fancy cookies from Russia. One was applesauce (kids chowed on it). One was this trail mix....snack mix from heaven, dusted in yummy, high quality white chocolate. (I think) NOT cheap vanilla almond bark....SO YUMMY! After we took it from Emily's open hands, the adults hid it for the night. Shout out to Barrys for that refreshingly tasty holiday treat!

Hope you get some treats from somebody this year too.

School snow day=catch up on Homework

SNOW!!! I know, people in my hometown are rolling their eyes. But we only get a "coat the yard, cover the car, can't see the moss on the lawn" snow once a year.

School was cancelled. The nanny cancelled work. Grant cancelled work. And my baby sister Christina arrived BEFORE the snow. I was so worried. I wasn't alone. All the local schools cancelled yesterday as the storm approached, then missed the Seattle metro area completely.

Recap: yesterday, no school, no snow

Today, no school, LOTS of SNOW!

This morning we had the kids catch up on homework. That won't be turned in until next year. (We assume like always, the snow will last a few days, turning the school week into Winter Break). Our kids have been slacking on homework, and the nanny isn't mommy. The nanny will say "do it" many times. Mommy will say "do it" then give graves threats. No computer for Alex. No friends for Emily.

Emily catching up with her reading minutes, Katelyn follows her example.

Hostile takeover has been explained...I hope

I realize that by posting this, I will tick of some family readers who hate when I talk about my health. Don't worry, read to the end for a happy finish (non medical)

But there are others out there who are also stuck in a cycle of illness. I've learned from their writings. Maybe I can help another...

So I'm tired. REALLY TIRED. So tired that when I try to wake up, I feel like I'm underwater. It takes me a while to get my voice and limbs working.

My brain has been hijacked. Thoughts I have now that seem normal and rational, I can safely assume I will think better of. Like my plans to suffer thru just one more year of pain. I know, my husband knows, my doctors are all on board and up to date. This is Emily's facial representation of my brain

(Really it's her new favorite silly face to make. She's really practiced it well in the mirror, great eye crossing! )

I was relieved to find out Monday that my progesterone, estrogen, vitamin D and Iron are very low again. YES! I know I'm crazy, but now I have a reason for the recent hostile takeover!

So I'm back on progesterone. 100mg, at bedtime, and it's freshly compounded (not synthetic or old from a normal pharmacy). I thought I was free of it, that I was healthy enough to trust my body to make it's own hormones. Guess not. Not yet, anyway.

And now I wait. As my shrink says, just let momentum happen right now. The days will go by, and I will slowly, slowly get my brain back. My family waits. Especially my husband, who is the only one I share all my thoughts with. Of course, he's the only one in bed with me at 1am to listen to those thoughts. Nighttime is the worst. The scriptures about Christ as the light of the world are more meaningful to me now. Now, as the northwest has the long, dark days and nights. Now as my brain tries to function on bad blood and bad food (i know, i know, I'm going to try to eat more than chocolate all day and a normal dinner).

I try to pass the time well...like posting, reading, doing paperwork to get insurance and FSA to pay us for doctor stuff. Oh, and shopping. I finally went to the local thrift store and got some jeans. My size 12-14 jeans can slip off. I was thrilled to fit comfortably into a size 10. I haven't been a size 10 since....I was in my first trimester with Alex. The size 6-8 I was when I got married/graduated will never return. But I can be happy with a 10. As long as it lasts. 144. Wow. I haven't seen that number on the scale this decade. That's only 15 pounds heavier that the day I got married. That's less than I wrote on my drivers license, which I lied on.

It would be more glorious if so much pain wasn't involved in getting there. Diet vs pain???? Hmmmm, pain has pain killers. Diet and hunger, been there, done that....I think I'll take the pain. And the skinny.

Ignore the tired face...trying on the new top with blue skirt....

This photo is a top that I ended up returning. LOVED IT, but it fit perfectly, and it had never been washed (100% cotton) and I don't want to be upset when I gain some weight and can't fit it. Or worse, wear it when I gain weight and I really shouldn't wear it.

Grant was putting the kids to bed, so I took this one....size 10 jeans! with top I returned...so said. I loved the pattern!

NON MEDICAL ENDING

PS....if anyone can get Grandma Spencer to read this...Here is where I installed the artwork I was so privileged to acquire at her estate sale. Right over my piano. The same piano that I FINALLY cleaned off last week. It was covered with a decade of home videos (now mostly converted to DVD) and 5 years of tax documents from our FINALLY finished Audit. Yep, nothing like an IRS audit, delivered two weeks before your fourth pregnancy from HELL was to end. Oh wait, since it was such a horrible pregnancy, nothing like at IRS audit to finish off 40 horrible weeks with a bang. Baby Mark (Who was born a week late on top of it) was crawling before we got the paperwork error (their part) fixed. And now with Mark almost walking, we've finally put away the paperwork. Ahh.....pretty photo, clean house, happy kids....

Do you remember what to notice in the above photo?

Brass Artwork

Clean piano

LACK of tax papers and VCR tapes

Organized music

Finished Christmas tree

Fruit loop tree garland craft project that Grant planned, bought and executed alone

Gate that we only bought for baby 4 to protect tree

Katelyn with a Clementine orange sticker on her head from breakfast. So Bollywood

Oh, and also Grandma Spencer's couch that is slightly younger than me. And still in great shape. But that's another post for another day...and I've already rambled long enough on this one.....besides, IT'S TANNING DAY!

TTT, tail of the toliet paper and the tooth

Dear Children,

Two of you are potty trained. And you have been for many years. You are 9 and 7 years old.
After you use the bathroom, toilet paper is commonly used.
Imagine my surprise when I used your bathroom (also the only guest bathroom) and I found this....


Sorry it's on it's side, the computer won't take my fix. Just tilt your head, children. Do you see it? Do you? Nope, it's not the open toilet lid (Mark can crawl now, shut it!) And it's not the fact that neither of you have flushed. Look at the handy, built in toilet paper roll holder. Yes, toilet paper is so commonly used that EVERY modern bathroom has one. Look closely at ours. Do you notice that it is brown children? That is the sign that their is no more toilet paper. It's very clever that the paper manufacturers make the roll a different color. It's easy to tell when one takes the last of the toilet paper.
BROWN ROLL=PUT ON NEW ROLL.

Neither of you will fess up to being the last one. But I heard you both use the bathroom before you went to bed tonight. After I got you to bed, I had to use your bathroom. UGGG, was I frustrated to find an open, used toilet. AND NO TOILET PAPER. So I open the bathroom cabinet. Did you know we have one? It's right under the sink. And it had about 10 rolls of toilet paper. And something else, a surprise that popped out at me....

DEAR, Dear, dear children....this is NOT the way to clean up one of the babies toilet paper messes. This is not a way to hide your playtime with a roll. Your mother is very tired lately. I did not clean it up. I felt bad for any guests who might use our bathroom, so I did put on a new roll of toilet paper....


Look how nice and neat that looks! All ready to use! But children, am I done yet? Nope! I still need to do something, can you guess what? Think hard.....

YES! Throw away the old, empty roll. This is trash, or even can be recycled. It's not a trumpet. It's not a toy. It is not a soccer ball. It is not even a carpet, which I must remind you since I usually find it on the floor.

I thought the story would end there. But as I wrote this post, Emily yelled out. "My tooth! It's really wiggly. Really,really wiggly." You Dad, Grant, was with me. I was resting my tired back at the end of a long day. "It's your turn, you help her. She's had that wiggly tooth for months. She's too freaked out to actually let it go." It's true, if you look closely at the family photos, the tooth on the right of her front teeth actually sticks straight out. This is due to being wiggled lose, then not finished off. As Grant goes to help Emily, these dreaded words are heard, "Hurry, I taste blood!". Your dad comes back to me. He doesn't do blood. He doesn't even talk about blood. He can't look at my arm for days after a blood draw. He can't do teeth, because of the blood. I've always helped with each tooth, even the last bloody pull if I needed it. And we couldn't show Daddy the tooth, because he would feel faint.

But today, mommy was finally resting. So I told Dad to be a Dad (or Man) and do something quick before you got blood on your sheets and blanket. BLANKET! She's got the $300 PTA class auction blanket on her bed. GO, GRANT, GO! So he grabbed a chunk of the fluffy toilet paper under the sink. He handed it to Emily and left the room. Look, he didn't faint!

During all this discussion from our bedroom, Emily's tooth finally came out. She successfully collected all the blood on the toilet paper ball. No children, I didn't take a photo of that. I didn't' want your Dad to refuse to read the blog because of the possibility of blood. So here is thrilled Emily with her lost tooth #8

Exciting, exciting! Of course, this means getting the tooth fairy kit out and texting the tooth fairy to bring 50 cents.....

Next morning, the tooth fairy "dropped" the tooth bag while Emily was woken up for school. Emily couldn't find the bag in bed. Mommy ran away while the kids ate breakfast. Then she helped Emily look. Emily found that the bag had dropped into the clothes hamper next to the bed. Wow, the tooth fairy must have visited us last. She left a quarter, a dime, five pennies and one dime looking thing. Oops, it was a Korean coin. (Have I mentioned yet that Dad served his mission in Korea?) . Emily was thrilled to think that some Korean kid got her American dime while she had his Korean one.

And that my children, is why we replace the toilet paper roll all the time. And don't play with you never know when you might need some toilet paper!

Love,

Your mom

Reality of F.H.E, but a once a quarter happy ending!

To: Amy Richins @ I'm a mormon missionary.com
Subject: From your slacker sister in law

Dear Sister Richins,

Okay, blame Olesia. Or my broken body...but I've not written a real letter in a few weeks. I'm addicted to Facebook. It's a gateway drug to blogging. Now I have my own blog. RealityFromRachel.BlogSpot.com So I write there. And I forget about you.

Until Mondays, when I get an email from you. And I think, ARG! Why didn't I write Amy earlier so she would have a new message from me? Since I'm slacking enough on the postal, I could at least get you an email.

So here it is, you're own personal Email, no one CC or BC or DC'd at all!

We just finished a great F.H.E. We had a lesson and practice session on being kind and polite.
This was the lesson. I think I remember the right words.

I didn't bother to write the saga of gathering the family, being reverent to start FHE, welcoming, song, fight over the song, prayer, fight over who is not being reverent before the prayers is said....and tonight no one said how they hated the treat or begged for another kind of treat already open in the freezer.....on to the lesson. Given by Rachel:

"Hey kids, Emily, sit down, Katelyn, Shhh! Alex, stop making those noises. Okay kids, today we have a special - Alex, stop it, you know she hates that - we have a special  - Grant, will you get the baby, he's crying - we have a special treat. We are going to make a gingerbread house for Family Home Evening. (Insert kids happy sounds). Yes, yes - yes, settle down. SHHHHH - I can't talk when you're - what? Yes, you can eat some of the candy tonight. A piece each. What? Okay two pieces. Fine, three pieces. THAT'S ENOUGH OR THEIR WILL BE NO PIECES! (Deep breath from mom.) ALEX, SHHH! (Another deep breath by mom) Okay. We are going to be kind an polite while we do this. Oh, that should be our lesson tonight! Our lesson is on being kind and polite. We need more practice with this. Katelyn, sit down. So be kind and polite as you ask for different candies or decorate the house. If you can't be - Grant, make Katie sit down - if you can't be kind or poli - ALEX, QUIT MAKING THAT NOISE! IF I HAVE TO TELL YOU AGAIN - (insert Hallelujah chorus as inspiration hits) Who's read about Fancy Nancy? (all are quiet. Older kids have read her in school. Katelyn just likes the word fancy). We are going to use our best, Fancy Nancy manners to make this, understand? Okay, lets get started!"

Okay this sounds bad and could totally give someone an excuse to not try and hold family home evening. But after the lesson, it went great. Mark at cheerios out of a festive snowman glass.

All the candy was shared, and no one spoke a word as Katelyn adorably put each sack of candy in a partitioned bowl. The kids held still as Grant told stories of gingerbread houses and later donut making from his childhood. This was needed while the house parts "glued" together.

Grant held Katelyn on his lap and both enjoyed it. Kate's just a cute kid who can now happily follow directions. But Grant...Yes, for the first time since we had kids, Grant enjoyed making the gingerbread house. Grant says it was because the big kids were older. I think it was the spirit...the calmer spirit of Grant that went with the flow of chaos and the spirit of the Lord for trying our best to always have FHE. The house turned out beautiful. No fights broke out until the last piece of Candy was needed for Emily's tree and in Alex's mouth. It now resides on the tree.

Merry Christmas to you! We sure felt merry tonight. Oh, and I lied. I didn't mean too. But Amy, I mean Sister Richins, this turned out pretty funny. So I'm going to post it on my blog. You can see it next year when you get home and thawed from Massachusetts!

Love,Rachel

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone....

Ahh, Sun! So bright, So warm...warmer...hot...my face is really hot! Um, I think my lips are burning.

Don't I wish this was my tale about my mini-vaycay (mini-vacation to those of you who don't read seriouslysoblessed.blogspot.com . Nope. No sunny beaches. No sun even this weekend. That's part of life in the winter in the Northwest.

Another part of winter in the Northwest in low levels of Vitamin D. It's a chronic problem that western medicine is finally doing enough papers to get people's attention. When Alex was born, 9 years ago, in the winter, they asked if he nursed or breastfed. When Mark, my February Baby, had his last wellchild visit, they asked what we fed him and if we had started supplementing him yet. Yep, adding drops of Vitamin D to his bottle. It's so common, that even our tiny supermarket pharmacy has six different kinds, three different brands of vitamin D.

My personal doctor is ahead of the curve. She's been watching my vitamin D since my first pregnancy. supplements are great, when you actually absorb them. I'm not. So lucky me (this time not sarcastic, really lucky me) I get to tan!

I have doctors orders to tan twice a week to bring my levels up. It's such a hardship to leave the screaming children and the rain (yes, Sarah, I know...if I only brought them out of the rain, they wouldn't scream.) But I will suffer, nay I will sacrifice for the good of my health. (there is the sarcasm, or is it the martyrdom?)

For those of you who haven't ever tanned (not that I'm judging those who actually want their skin darker)...you know how awesome you feel after it. I use a super high bed and get 22 blissful moments of sun. After I feel like I had a light massage and/or had laid on a relaxing beach on a perfect day and/or have been served a great cocktail while I lounged by the pool. Ahhh, bliss.

If any of you have moved from anywhere sunny to Seattle, especially in your first winter, GO TAN!!!! It will be just like normal life (sun damage wise) as a week in Denver. And the tanning high lasts for days. So now, as it is dark and rainy, I don't mind. My lips are burned,my skin is dry, and my mood is bright. :) Of course, the lips would be fine if I would remember any lip balm, and my skin breaks out at the tanning lotions that keep you from getting dry...my that's my bad. My mood makes up for it all.

Sorry, no photos....the photo button doesn't work right now, and I've got dinner and FHE to attend tonight. No more bedblogging for me! Now I'll go and have another Pina colada.....

New photos of Mark, with new Aunt Ely

Mark got his own blog post from his new Aunt Ely.
If you'd like to see the super cute photos of our baby,
Click here to Ely's blog on Little Mark

And the previous post is a fun one, too.
Grant and I went on a double date with newlyweds Joe and Ely
We left the kids home, on the day before Thanksgiving,
It was a sunny, clear day (first sun I'd seen in a while).

We rode a ferry to the peninsula and back.
We left the car to walk on, as we knew there were fun shops and restaurants right next to the ferry. My sister Julie would have loved the art galleries. The glass was so cheap!!! And Liza, the jewelry galleries were so tempting even for me!

Ely wanted to see if the seaweeds tasted like those from her home in Chile. So she confidently strolled to the beach and tried each kind (there were several different colors and textures from the lowering tide)
The last photo was the best, only half capturing the reaction Grant gave over and over.

Yes, this is a almost link to another post. But since Ely already did the hard work of posting the photos, and a video.....

BEST THANKGIVING DINNER EVER

Yes, this is what you think. 2:30 pm Thankgiving Day.

Old Country Buffet

Our family with my little brother Joe and his new bride, Ely.

A brief list of why is was so awesome:

No inner anger at those who didn't help cook or clean up

No left overs to eat for days and days

Everyone left the table happy and full

No exhaustion from two days shopping, two days cooking, one day cleaning up and two more days eatting the same food for every meal.

No one complained about the food

All the food was hot and done and the same time

No discusion over what recipe of Sweet Potatoes to make

The kids ate Tacos, and Grant and I had the best, most moist Turkey.

And the desserts....oh, I wish I could eat a slice of that perfect coconut cream pie right now.

Oh...you want a laugh? Ten years ago Grant and I had our wedding luncheon at Old Country Buffet. I wasn't allowed to wear my dress (mom's rule) and it was cheap (dad's rule) and it sure made me an official Red Neck.

Strangers will never know how happy they made me today

New favorite attitude: Hopeful for positive changes, accepting of limitations, loving my kids with my ears, nose, eyes and lips.

New favorite song: The Middle - By Jimmy Eat World (click to listen to it)

I love that it is upbeat. I love the words. I love the lines at the start


Hey, don't write yourself off yet


It's only in your head you feel left out


Or looked down on


Just try your best, try everything you can


And don't you worry what they tell themselves


When you're away.




It just takes some time,


little girl in the middle of the ride


Everything, everything will be just fine


Everything, everything it'll be alright

I've finally read about NieNie and her sister and saw the hope and love in her blog before the accident. And the faith and service afterwards. Thanks Cousin Cori, for letting me know about them. Reading the story from the start gave me much needed prospective and a much needed cry.

I've had moments of beauty every day. Many every day. The nights are dark and dreary. But I'm not alone. Yes, God is there somewhere. And the prayers and angels that they say are with me. Most importantly, I have Grant by my side.

He doesn't complain when I toss and turn and wake him up. He holds me close when I can't endure alone. He reminds me that the meds will help. And he gives me hope that even if I'm never the same again......




even if I'm never the same as I was two years ago....

I will still have his love.

He will still want me at home with our family.

He will continue to work extra as I learn my new limitations.

He will hate the constant flow of photography

But he will love the laughter and the chubby baby cuteness that I'm capturing

And I will still have his strong arms and cozy tummy to seek shelter.

Dec 2, 2008 Giving up on a traditional family photo

My husband. My eternal companion. The man I've loved more than anyone else on earth. The man who's better than Edward

because he will never leave me (I'm reading book 2 again)

Reliving the heartaches of so many high school break ups thru Bella's loss...then having the love of Grant around me

I'll never be able to tell the band Jimmy Eats World that their song gave me hope during this ride of recovery. I'll probably not tell Nie Nie and her family how their years of blogging that I read in one day turned my broken spirit around. Lastly, Stephanie Meyers will never meet me, one of millions of fans, and know how the Twilight series was my favorite recovery drug. And gave a much needed burst of romance to our exhausted marriage. Three groups of people who were strangers to me. Three groups of people to whom I will always be a stranger. Thank you Lord, for such wonderful talent in the world that is full of so much suffering.

What good could come of this

It's past midnight as I write this.

Crying.

Laying in bed, next to a very tired husband.

Pain.

Will it ever end ?

What am I doing wrong?

Or am I doing the right things, but I'm graced with pain for this life.

I wish I could have in interview with God tonight. I would ask for strength to get thru this. I would ask if I was doing the right or wrong things....especially pain killers. Yes, I have no name for my poor health. But I have no reason to have such bad pain. My intuition tells me that if I did the right tests or saw the right specialists I would be diagnosed with an auto-immune disease...RA, MS, Fibromyalgia or Lupus. I already have Hashimotos autoimmune thyroid and an autoimmune ovarian condition that causes me to stop producing hormones at times. Once you have one autoimmune condition, your chances of developing another one are very high.

But right now, my bad health can be counted on to flair up after child birth. My extended family will probably cheer when they read that my docs say no more babies. One says she'll quit if I get pregnant again. Another one says I'll never recover again and need replacement hormones THE REST of my life.

But none of that matters right now, as I lay in bed tonight, crying and so uncertain for the future. Grant wants me to stop and think of what good this time will bring. So I'm using a tiny PDA to tap out my feelings.

WHAT GOOD COULD COME OF THIS
1. We're helping the economy my paying for extra in home workers
2.I'm keeping my husband from being a workaholic.
3. We are closer together to a unified view of our oldests son's issues and more unified on the solution to them.
4. My prioritization skills are much better than they used to be.
5. Because of the above our marriage is stronger since i no longer drive Grant crazy with my important tasks that he sees as fluff no one will notice.
6. We've stopped waiting for tomorrow or a better time to have dinner guests and play dates. We've had more people over since I've been sick that in all the healthy years past. Friends are another great narcotic to me!
7. I'm staying more current with computer trends...even though its blogspot and not windows live (much to Grant's dismay)
8. The content of my next meal finally isn't the center of my world.
9. I'm aware of different things about my kids than if i had been the typical housewife.
10. I can handle more pain than i imagined and still be thrilled by e baby's small emotions and a big kids art project or finished book or playground squabble.
11. I can still go fun places with my kids and experience new things together. It's just thru the Internet and youtube videos instead of zoo trips and sack lunches
12. 7 and 9 year olds can do laundry. They can sort it by reading tags and they can move it from was to dryer to basket to drawers.
13. I'm becoming more like my personal heroes. Clair Wood, Deb Whitmore, Ann e K, Holly Overbaugh, Tammy Risenmay to name a few. I really wish I could be like them without pain of this intensity and duration. But that is what built them.

There are so many fears i have that won't do good to dwell on. But they are dark and huge and so real. They would seem so powerful that death would be a welcomed exchange. I fear so much doing the wrong and making this worse than it needs to be. Even now I write for the world instead of praying for peace. I do talk with God....but its more in a begging form of surrender than a reverent prayer.

Ahh...peace...the meds have hit my blood and I'm getting relief and sleep is near. I don't care how I got here anymore. I'll let the doctors worry instead. At least for tonight.

Aunt Ely's doing great, no one want's me to be mom again

My kids are sick of hearing my voice.....
I did homeworkd with them for the first time since school started. IT was just as bad as normal. Being ignored. Being told I don't know what I'm talking about.
FHE would have been a problem, since I normally give the lesson. Grant just doesn't do lessons. The kids sometimes try. But it's hard to feel the spirit when they are trying to explain some complex gospel principle with a barbie car, a stuffed animal and some other plastic toy.

Tonight our guest, my sister in Law, Ely, gave the lesson. It was the packet we got a few years ago from church, the symbles of christmas. SHE ROCKED giving the lesson. THe kids did great. And they were really listening. I wonder if it was her accent. She just came from Chili this summer to marry my little brother.

Now Ely is watching spanish TV on the internet. Everytime she laughs, Mark laughs. It's so funny to hear.

But I"m in pain today. All over. Everything but my hair hurts. And I can't stay awake. Even giving the kids spelling words, I fell asleep after Alex's second word. Is this just my low iron? Am I catching up? Why do I hurt? Will I alway hurt?

Oh a very bright side, I ate red meat (hamburger) TWICE and didn't get sick! Yes!!!!!