Honest Assessment. Feel Better Now?

Happy Easter!

Sarah - Easter 1998. Go ahead and giggle. We always do. This picture is a family favorite. I love those little, er, big cheeks and soft, pink skin!

Today I'm going for honesty. Sometimes we look around at our peers and only see the amazing, wonderful, super-humanish things they are accomplishing. All in ONE day! And at a FRACTION of the cost! What does it accomplish? Two things: First, it makes the peddler of "I'm fantastic! Look what I can do" feel like a champ. And second, it makes all the other ladies feel like freaking losers.

Guilt - that companion of women that eats our hearts out and makes us forget what we're good at.

Because honestly, we all do great, amazing things. Every single day. And we also all have toast under our couch, or a disaster of a closet somewhere in the house. Or a freaking weed patch where the bounteous garden should be (guilty, guilty, and guilty).

Here's a little of what I've been up to lately. I promise you, it will give you a great self-esteem boost.

This morning, I yelled at my children and gave a snarky comment to Neal just as he was walking out the door. We also didn't have scripture study because Sarah was going to be late for school. But that was all Neal's fault. And I told him so. Very rudely.

Abby has had candy, and only candy (and maybe some chocolate milk) to eat for the last 3 days. I just now opened up a chocolate bunny for her. And she's still in her jammies with a pair of too-small church shoes on and jolly rancher sticky all over her chin. She also still poops and peeps in her diapers.

I swore under my breath this morning as I stepped on the scale. Then, I swore again when I realized there was no toilet paper in the bathroom about 3 minutes too late.

Only crumbs were left in the tortilla chip bag, and they're amazing chips, so I poured them in a bowl, dumped some salsa in there, and ate it with a spoon like cold cereal. The easter baskets have also been trolled by me this morning, in the hopes that the kids left something good behind for me to steal. And, last week, I started up my diet coke habit again, and I'm trying to hide it from my husband. I went coke-free for 12 weeks! Then the migraines started. Tylenol sucks, so I've resumed my self-medicating.

No wonder I swore at my scale.

I've been walking past the pile of ironing on my treadmill for 2 weeks now. Meanwhile, Neal's shirt supply is dwindling. I think I caught him sniffing the pits of a shirt this morning in the hopes he could still wear it today.

The dog pooped in the dining room and front room. More than once. And the carpet shampooer is just sitting there - waiting patiently for me to use it. Damn dog.

I made my kids cry when I told them that next time Molly pooped in the house, I was going to slit her throat. I even showed them the knife I would use.

Neal was on the phone with the Bishop from our old ward. Sarah walked by and announced loudly, "I need to go poop!" That was just after our dinner conversation about why the word "penis" is such a gross word. And I once again had to tell Sarah that cooked calf testicles are rocky mountain oysters, not rocky roads.

At church, one of my primary kids who has played at our house before with Kate, told one of the primary presidency members, "They (speaking of the Peton's) have a really messy toyroom!"

I really, really miss my anti-depressants. I can't wait to go back on them when I have the baby.

I could go on, because trust me, there's more. But I do need to get some things done this morning. After I troll facebook, start up a game of "words with friends" with my little brother, and sit with Abby on the couch and join her for her 3rd movie of the morning.

Have a good day everyone!

Ping Pong with Old Guys

I think this is my favorite picture of Sarah. Yep. I'm pretty sure it is. It was Labor Day Weekend 2001 at Moon Lake somewhere in the middle of nowhere, past Vernal, I think. That was a fun camping trip. This is also one of my favorite pictures of Sarah. We were on a family camp-out at Tanner Flat. She was grouchy-poo the entire time. Angie's boys, Bryant and Spencer, are looking at her like, "Seriously. You need to chill. You haven't been fun to play with." Who cries with a jelly donut in her belly? Really? Who? Although I wonder if it really was jelly on her mouth. Perhaps it was the remains of a small animal.

Incidentally, this was about the time Sarah earned the nickname Evil Spice.

This one is October 1993 of my senior year in high school. I love it because I was playing a serious game of ping pong with my cool grandpa. He could play! And he was probably wearing a bolo tie and cowboy boots with his suit.

I think I've just almost finished off a bag of starburst jelly beans. I don't even really like jelly beans, but they're open, and they're by the computer. Ick.

Charlotte

This is our friend. She's been outside of our sliding glass doors for about 2 months. Every afternoon, she comes out onto her web. It's fun to watch. Neal caught a mosquito eater, threw it in the web, and immediately had the adoration of an 8 year old. Kate now trolls the yard for bugs, and throws what she can catch into the web. We call our new pet Charlotte. I think we may have just domesticated this spider. Pretty soon, she'll be asking for health insurance.

Sarah asked me the other day what it was like being a Bishop's daughter. I told her that sometimes it was crappy, but sometimes we had fun with it. Like when we were shopping with my Dad. Without fail, he'd run into someone from the ward, and stop for a little chat. We thought it would be funny to sneak beer into the cart. I remember well the time he was chatting with Jerry and Sharron A. and when we were walking away, he noticed an 18 pack of Bud Light in the cart. He was MAD! And we were laughing hysterically and couldn't wait to get home to tell our Mom. In matters such as these, we are our mother's children.

I also remember sneaking a bag of cheetos in the cart when my mom wasn't looking. She never noticed, she paid for them, and we had cheetos for a snack. But that has nothing to do with beer or my dad. Still funny though.

I am sick today. And I was yesterday. Dang cold and sore throat. My favorite sore throat medicine is off limits to pregnant ladies. So, I must suffer.

Son of a Bishop!

Apologies to our friends; the Peton's just got really lame.

Neal was ordained and set-apart as Bishop of our ward yesterday.

He was called last Saturday, after the afternoon session of General Conference. Within an hour and a half, the challenges began.

It was a challenging week, actually. I had jury duty and the accompanying babysitting-school-work-one-car-shuffle (remember, the car is ba-ROKE). The dog pooped in the dining room somewhere in that morning chaos. I forgot snacks for jury duty. Neal had early morning seminary inservice for his high-council calling. The van is making a new noise (just add it to all the other odd noises). And, we had a little financial surprise that is yet to be resolved. Niiiiiiiiice.

It took me back to my memories of my Dad serving as Bishop twice. When I was talking to my Mom about our new chapter, she said, "Oh! Your family will be so blessed!" I said, "What do you mean? The first time Dad was Bishop, he was out of work for like a year. And the second time, literally the same week he was called, Ryan (my brother) almost died and had brain surgery." My Mom then said, "Oh yeah. I guess that stuff did happen. But I kind of forgot. The good certainly outweighs the bad."

I'm so glad she said that, because I believe her.

All week long, Neal was getting out of bed between 3 and 4:30. When I would come downstairs at a more decent hour, there would be a box of kleenex's on the table, along with his scriptures and church handbook. We went through a lot of kleenex last week. And it looks like this week too.

I really feel for him. Really. What happens to him, happens to me. I feel it too.

BUT, and a big BUT at that. . . . . as the measure of challenges were poured out this past week, an increased measure of compensatory blessings, peace (like solid peace), and strength have been in our home. When I say peace, I really mean it. There are some "how the heck (I can't say hell anymore. What did I say about lame-O?) are we going to solve this problem?" questions going on, but the peace, born of faith and some awesome past experiences when our faith has been tried, have overridden the unknown.

I've tried to be extra nice to Neal. Last Sunday, I made him a nice big man-breakfast. And Monday, when I changed our sheets, I put the extra-soft sheets on, just because I feel so sorry for him. And I've tried to be nice. I really, really need help in that department. I need to be a better wife and be supportive. Saturday, we tried to spend the day as a family. It was a nice day. We went to Willamette Mission Park and went on a little walk. Well, Abby pretty much ran for the first 3/4 of the way or so.

Until she totally biffed it.

Sarah looks so compassionate.

Picking dirt out of the mouth.

That's about the part of the walk where Abby got really grouchy.

And kept throwing herself down on the ground, pouting.

This was what the rest of the walk was like.

With a little "Sarah Blue Herron" impersonations thrown in. That's a great story. A couple of nights ago, Sarah came into our room at about 11. She was kind of freaked out. She said, "MOM! I was looking out my window, and there was a blue herron on the neighbor's roof! It was walking like this" and she did her impersonation. Neal and I laughed so hard! This is not the first time Sarah has come into our room late at night, with some fantastic tale of what she "saw" out the window. We either need to get her glasses, or figure out how to shut off her "the-later-it-gets-the-greater-the-imagination" switch.

About the title: when Reese (my baby brother) was little, he couldn't say the word "Bishop" very well. It came out sounding like a swear word. So of course, being the teenagers we were, myself and some of the siblings taught him to say loudly, "I'm a Son of a Bishop!"

I've said it before, but I'll say it again: Neal is wonderful. In so many ways. He makes me want to be a better wife and person. He is humble, and has so much faith. And most of all, he's loving to everyone. Everyone. And doesn't judge or think bad of people (I do all of that stuff in our marriage).

Catastrophic Engine Failure

We just found out our "good" car needs a new engine. Which would cost more than it's worth. It's called "catastrophic engine failure," and is oh, so very common with the Dodge Intrepid. Sunuva!

I was in Target, walking past this sign, when Neal called me to give me the news. Sarah would call it "ironic." So would Alanis.

And, our oven just quit working.

But, on a good note, Kate made us laugh pretty good last night. She was telling us all about the birthday party she was invited to. She said, "I hope they have mayonnaise!"

Maybe we should play hide-and-seek tonight. That always seems to cheer us up.

It's MY Turn on Earth, So Get Outta the Way!

Abby found them. The stuffed animals. Too many. Way too way too many. They already have a toy chest in their room that is full of them. Actually, it's usually empty of them and they're all over their room. But, when we moved, I had a large-marge bin stuffed full of them. I was going to get rid of it, but the Mr. insisted I keep them. So, I did. In the toy room closet. A couple of days ago when I went on an Abby hunt, I found her in the toy room, sitting next to the empty large marge bin, and burried in stuffed animals. "Look Mom! LOOK! I LOVE em! I LOVE em!" So, she's now enamoured of all the new stuffed animals that appeared. And Neal did one of those, "See! I TOLD you we should keep them. Good thing you listened to me." I hate those comments. I hate em BAD. They go everywhere.

On Saturday, I had Sarah and Kate vacuum, dust and clean windows in the tithing van (I am so loving this part of parenting!). Part of the clean-up effort was taking out all of the horses, stuffed animals, and naked barbies that Abby carts to the van every time we go somewhere. And all those costco receipts that littered the van.

We all enjoyed this weekend. Conference weekend is "church in pj's." And it's great. We were all very filled and we're ready to be more nice and awesome. At least for now.

So, I've been trying really really hard to not be so grouchy in the morning. I always struggle with that anyway, but it's compounded with my morning ritual of barfing in the sink. It takes me about an hour to get out of my funk in the mornings. So, sometimes scripture study sounds something like this,

Me: "Kate! Sit up and open your scriptures! We're on verse 11. If you would pay attention, you would know where we are!"

Kate: "UGHHHH! I HATE THIS!! WHY DOES EVERYONE'S BREATH STINK IN THE MORNING!"

Sarah: "Hurry up! I'm going to be late for school!"

Abby: "Here I am, being cute and pleasant while I eat my cheechos (cheerios)."

Neal: smiling gently, because he's so freaking pleasant in the mornings. Acutally, he's perpetually pleasant. "Come one everyone. Let's be nice. We need to feel the spirit in our home, and fighting doesn't help. Right Natalie?"

Me: "Seriously. Why can't you guys just follow along. Are you retarded? Did you forget how to read?"

Kate: "WHY DOES EVERYONE EAT SO LOUD?!?!?!"

(In case you didn't guess, Kate suffers from my morning grouchies, as well as our affliction of HATING chewing sounds)

So, like I said, I've been really trying to work on my morning attitude. Last Friday, I was doing pretty good. We were reading something about Samuel the Lamanite, and the topic of the war in heaven came up. Naturally, I started singing that "Give the Glory to ME!" song from the "My Turn on Earth" record we had as kids. Everyone looked at me like I had gone crazy. They didn't think it was as funny as I did. Because I had to explain what I was singing, so the humor was kind of lost in translation. But, it helped me to not be grouchy. And I've been doing pretty good in the mornings for the last couple of days.

Yeah, I'm thinking they thought I was crazy, because the more I think about that freaky album, the more I think, "What the heck kind of trash was that?" *throw in "anti-deseret book" comment here*