Yeah, I'm cool like dat.

Do NOT introduce your 2 year old child to play-doh. Not unless, of course, you are into making lots of these (see above) and cleaning up lots of this (see below).





I'm pooped. A big old stinky pile of pooped. I took the kids to see the 2nd Narnia last night. We went at 10pm, got home at ONE in the MORNING. Loved it. Still tired from it. Don't forget to remind me how my lovely son made the entire theater of move-goers laugh - all at once - in one roar of giggles. The kids had a blast. I had a blast. I'm behind in housework, laundry, and my "real job" - - but what the hell! We only have 2.5 weeks of summer vacation left. It's time to par-tay baby!

Picture perfect.

No I have not lost my mind. We were visiting our (family) Sunday cabin today, and I decided while we were there to try to get the kid's Christmas picture out of the way.

We (my husband) decided that maybe I should not go into the photography business after the lack of patience I demonstrated today. I swear I tried my best. I swear I did.

Let me have it and let me know what you think. We're not paying for a "professional" family portrait until next year, when hopefully I have a new bundle in my arms.

This'll have to do. I think it'll work, don't you?

Bitten.

I've been bitten by the photography bug. It's getting to be that time of year - well sorta - that I start having Christmas pictures on on my mind. I'm going to take them again this year my self, and hopefully get my neighbor in on the action to help with a family picture. I figure if I make sure the lighting and pose is correct, she can push the button.... right?......

Trouble is, this little Miss does NOT like her picture taken. But. I suppose there is hope in sight because she IS responding to bribes now. At least she's looking at the camera.... think positive thoughts.... that's my story and I'm sticking to it.



I feel like I should also mention I have made a few new bloggity friends lately. You know who you are (or do you). I've added you into my google reader to keep in touch proper now, so when I find a minute, I'll be stoppin' by, so get ready for a whole-lotta Misty.

Oh Baby.

As a result of my fertility appointment a couple weeks ago:

Ian: Mom, why did we go to see your doctor today?
Me: He gave me some pills to help me get pregnant.
Ian: I know what those pills are called.
Me: Really?
Ian: They are called pregnant pills, Mom.

Cuddling on the bed last week:

Ian: Mom, how do you get pregnant?
Me: carefully thinking, deciding to cop out, I don't know son. I just pee on a stick and it tells me if I am pregnant or not.
Ian: That is really nasty.
Me: I know.


I'm not ready to pee on the stick yet. In about 6-8 weeks I may have some news.

I dare you.

I got to thinking tonight. I miss blogging. I was going to sit down and put in a couple hours of work to get a head start on my twenty, but this seemed like much more fun, so here we are. You and me. Spending a little time together.

While I have you. Go check out Klin at Monkeying Around The Jungle. This lady is a therapist, and let me tell you. She's pretty freaking awesome. In the little time I've known her through blogging, she has shared some AMAZING insights with me. She's changed my life, and I bet she doesn't even know it. I love her. She's a gift to me. Go tell her how amazing she is, because she deserves to hear those words. She totally does.

She has a recent post about becoming a "proctor parent", which she explains is similar to foster parenting, but only now to those that have been in trouble with the law. She writes, and read this closely: "As a society, too many children are being thrown away. I am very opposed to this. How do we expect people to make good choices when they have only been shown poor choices? They haven't had a safe place to grow up. They haven't had their needs met. They have been physically and sexually abused. They have been told they are worthless and have been shown that when an adult gets upset they become the punching bag. I want to show them that they are a person of worth. They can succeed by making right choices. They are not for hurting. There are different ways to live. I want them to know that God has answered their prayer to be safe and to be loved."

My heart felt two things when I read those words. Joy and sorrow. I was that kid. My brother, sister, and I were those kids. Days, weeks, months passed and how my heart ached that some one would notice. Some one would hear. Some one would see the bruises. Some one would realize the extreme oddities in my home. It would have only taken one adult.

I've decided to be that one person. We have a family in my neighborhood that needs extreme aide. The family is made of a single mom and three boys. The mom is timid and seemingly a ditz. The boys are "good" kids, under the correct circumstances. The two older boys are friends with my two oldest children, and under close watch, and countless explanation of our house rules, we fare well together. We've chosen to be a safe place for those kids. I did a lot for that family last year: clothes, food, shoes, Christmas. I finally felt like they'd gotten over the hump, but 'twas not so. The boys were here just a couple weeks ago, were asking for many meals, and it finally dawned on me that they weren't eating at home. The boys had not eaten in THREE days. The more I thought about it, the more I became angry. I excused myself, gathered what extra food I had in the house, and sent it home with the oldest neighbor boy, and invited him back for a pancake lunch. I thought for the rest of the day and I decided to call the mother. I called her and I told her to not speak. I told her I had been watching her home closely, her boys closely. I told her I knew about the drugs done at her house, I told her about her boy that was getting hit by one of her "friends". I told her I knew they had no food. I told her if she didn't make some sudden drastic changes, that I would call the authorities. We had that conversation, and I didn't see or hear from that family for about 2 weeks. Didn't hear from her, but saw that the flocks of men we no longer at her house. Gone were the drugs, gone were the parties. I was thankful, but I was saddened, because I missed the boys. I decided to call her. I told her I was able to get her some aide through my church, so they could have some extra food, that she should come meet with me and couple church women today so we could get her some help. I told her I missed the boys, that they were welcome in my home any time. About an hour before our meeting today, her boys came to play. The meeting came and went, we chatted, good feelings were felt. She turned to leave and she said "Misty, you are the best". Phew. There is a God and He loves me. He loves me, her, and those boys.

I sighed and shooed the last of her kids out the door so I could make dinner, and said a quiet prayer. I'm glad I have those boys. I'm glad those boys have me.

One person can make a difference. One person can change a life. One person can provide safety and love.

I needed that one person, and I didn't get that. I challenge us all to be that one person in some other child's life. It will stir with in that child a life time of change. Do it. Look for the opportunity.
I dare you.

It's a secret.

I have a confession to make. The REAL reason that my 4th of July was so fantastic is because I got to see my BFF! Not to mention her freaking awesome sister, whom I'd like to see more of. I was waiting for her phone call, kinda-like giddy with excitement. I love her. She is one of those women that I plan to hold on to for life.

I'm not one to usually do friend tributes on my blog, but this girl. She deserves is. She is amazing in more ways then one. I won't go into detail. But she's one of my rocks in my life.

Chit. (That is our code word, don't even ask).

Taking the plunge.

My oldest child, this little beauty, gets baptized tomorrow morning, 10am. I am cannot express what this means to me and my journey through this life.

In the mean time.

Me + chores, shopping, cooking, preparing, hair cuts and baths + over 40 mouths to feed = INSANITY.

Help!

Like something up your nose?

Ladies, the question of the night is this: What do you think all 4 of these things have in common?
They all have some thing to do with OLIVIA. Last week she crammed a pop corn kernel up her nose. After several attempts to remove the popcorn kernel, it "disappeared", or so said Olivia.

It had, indeed NOT disappeared. This piece of crap of kernel had been lodged in Olivia's nose the entire time, and after noticing the popcorn again in Miss Livvy's nose, I decided to take matters into my own hands, again, but this time enlisting my husband as nurse. Partner in crime, rather.

Have no fear should this happen to you, because THIS is what you do. Mix one cup of warm water with one 1/4 teaspoon of salt, and grab your booger sucker. Be prepared for disaster. The first attempt I made to remove the lodged kernel ended in a vomiting Olivia. This time I said a little prayer, and Andrew held Olivia tightly on the stool. Basically you shoot water up the nostril that is NOT clogged. The force of the water should help remove the stuck object. Water up one side, out the other. This time it worked. And below, here we have the little treasure. And I am keeping it. Forever. What a nightmare.

And my last tip of the day is this: If you need to sleep "just a little more" in the morning, let your child dress you up in princess attire, while you doze. This REALLY works, and as you can tell, I was thrilled.

Ian's Mutterings.

Our 4th of July was lovely. Truly it was. My love-for-setting-things-on-fire was interrupted when Hannah got some thing in her eye. I had to rinse her eye out for some time, and missed the fireworks display trying to get her to bed.

Ian stayed outside to lay on a blanket with one of my very best friends, and his comments went a little like this:

Auntie Lisa. Did you know that some times when I am trying to fall asleep at night I hear a pack of wild dogs running down the street?

The first comment that came into my head was: Is that so?

We have also explained to the the children that some fireworks are illegal and should be not be lite off because of the dangers involved. Ian had a comment about THAT as well.

Auntie Lisa.... (as he could see in the sky that some one was firing off illegal fireworks)... I think the people that light off those fireworks don't love Jesus.

My thoughts on that comment?: Um, if you say so, kid.

Now, onto this era of trying to figure out where I fit into blog-sphere. This is what I have figured out, being torn between not wanting to miss out, and making sure I have time for other important things in my life:

A. I need to focus on forging friendships that reach beyond the computer screen. Why? I simply need to. I need to learn to trust more. I need to learn that it is alright to lean on the people that I love. Trust in them so that I can share more of myself, and realize that it is OK to do that. I feel more safe, writing my feelings, then actually talking about them. I need to trust more in the human race.

B. I'm down sizing. Reading less. I was reading about 30 blogs, now I'm only going to read about 15. Putting in the time for those that I feel like my connection has reached beyond blogging alone.

A little of this, a little of that. I think I just might get the hang of this.

I have started my THIRD twenty hour work week. And, it's going alright. Not to mention I got my FIRST paycheck today. My house is clean. I am miserably behind on the laundry. I did start dinner early, though, and there are still a slew of things I need to get to through out this week. Like planning Hannah's baptism, and a meal for the FOURTY plus people that will be attending. I need to call in reinforcements. Care to join me?

Coming to an end.

There is nothing like a quiet house, with my children asleep, to make me stop and think about what I need to do differently in the up coming days, weeks, maybe even months.

I'm scaling back. I have had to find twenty "extra" hours in my week for my work from home position, which I may add, there is no such thing. "Extra hours" ? You've got to be kidding me! I have to let some things go, in order to keep other things done, and I've decided to let blogging slide to the bottom of the pile. I need to read less, comment less, and every time I open my google reader, I feel myself start to sigh. There just isn't the time.

And realistically, working again, planning another pregnancy, trying to maintain a household, raising my children in a way they deserve - there just isn't the time in my day to do it all.

And. I've run out of things to say. Can't beat a dead horse, and I'm sure it's not interesting reading about one either. The most meaningful connections I have made here is when blogging has lead to a one on one - taken out of internet land - friendship. THAT is what I need. It's time for me to focus on what I can get out of life, that is tangible. I need to move past the computer screen.

That's not to say I won't post. Maybe a lot, maybe less. I have no idea. Blogging with no strings attached. That, to me, sounds like a great plan. I think more then anything I'll read less, and put my efforts into the more solid connections I've made. That is what my heart needs, that's what I search for. More love in my life. Less time spent on fruitless endeavors. I want the real, the solid, the touch-able, and meaningful relationships in my life to grow - putting time and effort in to those things, not into the latter.

Take it or leave it, I guess you could say. I'm finding it just may be too hard to explain.

This is where to reach me ~ abnmln@gmail.com

I got fired and THIS is my hero.

My hero on this 4th of July is my brother:

Here's to my brother who gave a year of his life to do his part to keep you and I safe.

Here's to ALL of our soldiers, men and women, who have served and who are serving currently.

Love, Misty, Andrew, Hannah, Ian, and Olivia.

PS: Oh, and my brother KICKS ASS!!!
PPS: And, he's taken.


I felt like I should also clear up that I never had a job with Oprah, don't want a job with Oprah, and will never even try to get a job with Oprah. I was kidding, I swear. I felt, in that moment, I was one with the woman's train of sappy (yet intelligent) thought. So I made a joke. But it didn't work out. I remain employed by my children, and fly by the seat of my pants doing internet markering. But, just maybe. Maybe I'll audition for the Dr. Phil show later today. (cackle, cackle, cackle)

Sleep. Like a Baby?

You know the drill. I hated summers as a kid. I hated being home with hateful parents. I hated being locked in my room all day. Not allowed to play outside, not allowed to have friends over, not allowed to watch tv, play with toys, listen to music. We couldn't even have a snack during the day, for crying out loud.

I really enjoy letting my babes, for the most part, call the shots during summer. If we have no where to be the next day, I let my oldest two stay up as late as they want. My youngest has a bed time, and as long as Hannah and Ian are playing quietly. I let them be. My two year old is very demanding. She's after the kids all day for some thing, wants their attention, she assumes they are wrapped around her finger. I am happy to let them have a break, with out her. Of course when school time roles around they're off to bed at an early hour. My feeling is let them play while they can. So much responsibility is around the corner. I love watching them be kids. I also love the time spent with them in the evening. Playing cards, watching tv, giggling, snuggling before bed. It, my friends, is priceless.........

Ian, especially is a bed hopper. He switches bunks often. He'll sleep on the floor. He'll sleep on the couch. Doesn't look all that comfortable, does it?


And, Friends.... now for the best part. I just got up. It's 10:00 am. Un heard of in my house, let me tell you. But. I put Olivia in my bed at 7am this morning to snuggle. She fell back asleep. I. Did. Not. Move. Except to take this picture.

So you tell me. Mommy wars are a bunch of bull shit. They really are. I have enjoyed you lovely women rallying around me in my choices as a mother. It's a beautiful thing when we can do that for each other, as women. The plain simple truth is that there is no right answer. We're not all created a like, and we all have different needs. I feel happy and content being a home body - not all women enjoy that. There ain't nothing wrong with that, either. For me, or for her. The differences in our souls are what makes us beautiful. Let's continue to embrace each other.

And. You guessed it. I also got a job with OPRAH, too.

Mmmmmmwwwwaaaaaaahahahahahahahahah!