January 30th, 2016
Clever, MO
(Laying in bed listening to the babes create my "surprise" birthday breakfast in bed. I'm pretty sure the eggs have burned.There is no other explanation for the accost that has bombarded my nose.)
Babes' ages-11,9,8,7, almost 2
Thw ramblings of my sleep dwprived mind...
Last night, my sweet Knight of 12 years pulled off quite a feat and surprised me with a lovely little birthday dinner at a Brazilian grill with my two sister/friends (friends who have known you long enough that sometimes you forget they aren't your actual sisters) and their husbands. It was everything I needed, intellegent conversations, delicious foods, happy dispositions... I even managed to keep my gory Medic work stories to a comfortable level and mentioned bodily fluids just ONCE!
Somewhere between broiled sea bass, calamari and fried bananas, my sister/friend asked me if I had accomplished everything on my "Turning 30 Bucket List".
Hmmmmmmmm
I HAVE a bucket list, but I haven't thought about a 30 year one! She went on to tell of several different lists you can find online of things on before you turn 30 and laughingly stated that she was pretty sure I had done ALL of them.
Naturally,this morning while waiting for the adorably sloppy breakfast that will soon come my way, my curiosity won over and I decided to do a little research and find out just what most people feel are accomplishments worthy of a 30 year bucket list.
Here are some highlights-
#1 from Urbanette- Enjoy a one night stand
Gen20 had a mix of the emotional and physical- forgive all your mistakes, date someone not your type, remove 2 main stressors from your life, move to a foreign country...
One guy aspired to run a farm for a week, climb an active volcano, learn to swim, float in the Dead Sea (Ewwww) and have a garden tea party (?)
Some of the obvious favorites that I have found online, yet have not-and probably never would dare dream of accomplishing:
Crash a strangers wedding
Consciously overdraw my bank account
Run a marathon
Eat an insect *horrors*
Attend a cop raided part
Wear only body painted clothes
Of course, I ran into an article from Huffpost that explained why one shouldn't have a bucket list at all. Killjoys.
The conclusion of it all?
I don't have one.
Live life. Make a bucket list. Don't make a bucket list. Do everything on the spontaneous whim. Plan out every second of your existence. Enjoy every precious, stressful minute. Relish every painful, wonderful moment. Take pause and experience as many non-personally-mundane things that you can. Snuggle yourself in the familiar and live out your days in peace. It doesn't matter!! Be happy! Life is always fatal.
And on that incredibly cliche note, have a fantastic day, world. Do what makes you happy.
As for me, you may just see me standing on the street corner in Springfield MO shamelessly selling tabloids like a 1914 Newsie. (A fantastic bucketlist item!)
Or maybe I'll stay here in this bed all day and sleep like a newborn.
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
January 20, 2016
January 20,2016
Aurora, MO
Babes' ages- 11,9,8,7,1
Skype Messages with my 11 year old son...
"Have a great day, Sweetie! Love you!"
"Love you too, Mom. Where are you?"
"Ummmm, at work. Dad should be there."
"Are you sure?"
Sigh
Ice was smeared across the roads this morning in a manner more sloppy than my 7 year old's application of peanut butter to whole wheat bread. 1930 hrs last night harolded a cry of cheer from my babes as the inevitable phone call came in to cancel school. Leaving an hour earlier than usual allowed for the ample "come rescue me" time which proved, thankfully, unnecessary. I miss having a day off with my babes.
Martin Luther King Jr day (last week) was filled with home made cakes, board games, snuggly movies and pic updates via text from Darlin so I could partake in all the fun activities whilst chauffeuring my EMT around the county. Not even a single IV stick to lift my spirits...
Last week a friend and fellow mommy of 3 was lamenting how busy her days off were and I heartily agreed. Even working 3 shifts a week I find my 4 "home days" are ANYTHING but. Dr appts, basketball practice, math leagues, worship practice, grocery shopping, chorus... I can only imagine how crazy it would get if I was a stay at home mom again!
Stay at home mom. I think we can all agree that, in itself, that phrase is an oximoron. Moms just don't stay home, working or otherwise.
I read an old facebook post this morning, whichI will share below, and it made me smile. My eyes even misted over a little remembering how tiny my babes were. My lips curled up slightly as I recalled the main stressors of that time in our life. Kindergarten. Potty training. Toy organization. Spousal communication. Kindergarten...
Aurora, MO
Babes' ages- 11,9,8,7,1
Skype Messages with my 11 year old son...
"Have a great day, Sweetie! Love you!"
"Love you too, Mom. Where are you?"
"Ummmm, at work. Dad should be there."
"Are you sure?"
Sigh
Ice was smeared across the roads this morning in a manner more sloppy than my 7 year old's application of peanut butter to whole wheat bread. 1930 hrs last night harolded a cry of cheer from my babes as the inevitable phone call came in to cancel school. Leaving an hour earlier than usual allowed for the ample "come rescue me" time which proved, thankfully, unnecessary. I miss having a day off with my babes.
Martin Luther King Jr day (last week) was filled with home made cakes, board games, snuggly movies and pic updates via text from Darlin so I could partake in all the fun activities whilst chauffeuring my EMT around the county. Not even a single IV stick to lift my spirits...
Last week a friend and fellow mommy of 3 was lamenting how busy her days off were and I heartily agreed. Even working 3 shifts a week I find my 4 "home days" are ANYTHING but. Dr appts, basketball practice, math leagues, worship practice, grocery shopping, chorus... I can only imagine how crazy it would get if I was a stay at home mom again!
Stay at home mom. I think we can all agree that, in itself, that phrase is an oximoron. Moms just don't stay home, working or otherwise.
I read an old facebook post this morning, whichI will share below, and it made me smile. My eyes even misted over a little remembering how tiny my babes were. My lips curled up slightly as I recalled the main stressors of that time in our life. Kindergarten. Potty training. Toy organization. Spousal communication. Kindergarten...
My Breakfast This Morning...
January 20,2012
Moab, UT
Babes' ages- 7,5,4,3
This morning I dragged myself out of bed and prepared for an "early" morning breakfast with friends. (Yes, 8 AM with four little ones on my current work schedule is EARLY!) School is out today and the Babes were excited at the prospect of eating out. Walking in the door of the restaurant they all rushed to the display of toys that could be added to their meals and loudly declared which ones they required. I knelt amongst them and quietly reminded tham to use inside voices and asked what they wanted to eat...
"The Foh-wheelah, mama!" Isaiah suggested.
"ICE CREAM!!!!" Thaddaeus graciously added, which in turn raised a chorus of Ode to Vanilla ice cream.
"The quiestest ones get their food first!"
Silence.
Until I went to order, of course. Four voices were soon chattering away on which toy they wanted and whether or not their ice cream would have a cone.
"The ice cream machine doesn't work for breakfast, only after dinner." I said, more to the waitress than to them. She smiled knowingly.
We settled in and the Babes opened their boxes to reveal which toys they won. I was momentarily distracted by pieces of adult conversation that floated my way from Abe and our friends. A rarity. I was about to interject my opinion on an important grown up topic when the melodic sound of ice and juice splashing on the tile floor harmonized with morose wails from Isaiah. Happily, everyone was dry and after apologies to the bus boy, munching commenced.
My mind entered the realm of my peers once again only to be jarred seconds later with a little body dancing and requesting a potty break. A "quick" field trip, complete with exploring every stall (even the ones that were occupied-my sincere apologies to the lady in the third one down), and three hand washes as there WERE three soap dispensers, was exucted. I deposited my little girl back to her spot only to be greeted with three little bodies holding their jeans and loudly declaring that their wee-wees were full as well. A much longer trip followed with noisy chattering about bodily functions along the way. Bladders empty, I finally sat back down and commenced to chewing on my room temp burrito. A few minutes of small talk ensued, but my mind was constantly multi-tasking. Wiping faces, answering questions like, "Mom, why is that man wearing a hat?' and "Mom, if my bed had a spider on it, could it sleep with me?"
Flustered and slightly disappointed that the ONLY time our friends could meet with us would be early morning when ALL of my babes were out of school, I finally told them all to sit quietly and just eat so I could visit. Inside I whined and told myself how much easier breakfast would have been at home in our jammies with my trusty table cloth and sippy cups. Visiting via text IS a much saner way to connect with adults, you know.
A few moments of near peace went by until stranger walked by our table. I looked up and braced for whatever complaint would be shot my way when she smiled and stated, "Youre kids are the sweetest I've ever seen!"
I turned and took in the scene next to me. Adam was helping Isaiah open his apple package. Carol and Thad were quietly applying stickers to the table top. Smiles and laughter floated into the air.
I smiled. "Yes, they are." I agreed with a sigh.
The next moment another cup hit the floor and dispursed it contents. My husband and our friends were donning jackets and saying goodbyes. I stacked up the trash and plates and untangled the hot wheel that Thad drove through Carol's hair. I pulled little arms into coats, replaced shoes and socks that had been discarded under the table.
As I zipped Isaiah into warmness he slipped his arms around my neck and smacked a syrupy kiss on my cheek. "Tanks, Mommy!" Four little bodies lined up and held hands, preparing to walk out to the van. My soul smiled.
Due to Mommy Magic, the ice cream machine magically decided to work on our way out and four little faces were drippy with white sweetness as we loaded up.
I love my life.

"The Foh-wheelah, mama!" Isaiah suggested.
"ICE CREAM!!!!" Thaddaeus graciously added, which in turn raised a chorus of Ode to Vanilla ice cream.
"The quiestest ones get their food first!"
Silence.
Until I went to order, of course. Four voices were soon chattering away on which toy they wanted and whether or not their ice cream would have a cone.
"The ice cream machine doesn't work for breakfast, only after dinner." I said, more to the waitress than to them. She smiled knowingly.
We settled in and the Babes opened their boxes to reveal which toys they won. I was momentarily distracted by pieces of adult conversation that floated my way from Abe and our friends. A rarity. I was about to interject my opinion on an important grown up topic when the melodic sound of ice and juice splashing on the tile floor harmonized with morose wails from Isaiah. Happily, everyone was dry and after apologies to the bus boy, munching commenced.
My mind entered the realm of my peers once again only to be jarred seconds later with a little body dancing and requesting a potty break. A "quick" field trip, complete with exploring every stall (even the ones that were occupied-my sincere apologies to the lady in the third one down), and three hand washes as there WERE three soap dispensers, was exucted. I deposited my little girl back to her spot only to be greeted with three little bodies holding their jeans and loudly declaring that their wee-wees were full as well. A much longer trip followed with noisy chattering about bodily functions along the way. Bladders empty, I finally sat back down and commenced to chewing on my room temp burrito. A few minutes of small talk ensued, but my mind was constantly multi-tasking. Wiping faces, answering questions like, "Mom, why is that man wearing a hat?' and "Mom, if my bed had a spider on it, could it sleep with me?"
Flustered and slightly disappointed that the ONLY time our friends could meet with us would be early morning when ALL of my babes were out of school, I finally told them all to sit quietly and just eat so I could visit. Inside I whined and told myself how much easier breakfast would have been at home in our jammies with my trusty table cloth and sippy cups. Visiting via text IS a much saner way to connect with adults, you know.
A few moments of near peace went by until stranger walked by our table. I looked up and braced for whatever complaint would be shot my way when she smiled and stated, "Youre kids are the sweetest I've ever seen!"
I turned and took in the scene next to me. Adam was helping Isaiah open his apple package. Carol and Thad were quietly applying stickers to the table top. Smiles and laughter floated into the air.
I smiled. "Yes, they are." I agreed with a sigh.
The next moment another cup hit the floor and dispursed it contents. My husband and our friends were donning jackets and saying goodbyes. I stacked up the trash and plates and untangled the hot wheel that Thad drove through Carol's hair. I pulled little arms into coats, replaced shoes and socks that had been discarded under the table.
As I zipped Isaiah into warmness he slipped his arms around my neck and smacked a syrupy kiss on my cheek. "Tanks, Mommy!" Four little bodies lined up and held hands, preparing to walk out to the van. My soul smiled.
Due to Mommy Magic, the ice cream machine magically decided to work on our way out and four little faces were drippy with white sweetness as we loaded up.
I love my life.

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