We went on vacation to St. George over the weekend and the next morning we had a phone call that Joe's sister's house had a fire and the garages (3 of them) had been burned down.

Let me back up a little. This is the baby of Joe's family, the only one younger than Joe. She has been married for some 14 years I think and they have done pretty well financially until a few years ago. They got a bit caught up in the house flipping. They now have 2 large homes in St. George and both are very close to foreclosure. Also her hubby is currently in an outplacement program for rehab on sleeping meds and pain medication. They're having a rough go of it. When I heard the news that this had happened to their house I was sad at the misfortune but it seemed SO odd that it happened RIGHT after we left. At first I thought everyone had left but later found out that her hubby was in the house when the fires started. He is now under investigation for arson. Things don't look good. I couldn't blog about this because the family would freak so I had to put it somewhere. There are only a few pople who know of my little journal here, so this is where it shall lie. We'll see what happens.

Isn't it fun that every family has some crazy...

I'm at a 2/3 average here and ok with it. In the last week I have had dreams that I can remember for 3 nights. Of those 3 nights, 2 were GREAT. The one that kills my percentage is one of a large spider out to get me. I think that was inspired by my sister telling me that a black widow lives outside her door. The night after my spider nightmare I had a blissfully superb dream that I was me, but I was a dancer. In NY. My youthful dream was somehow happening. I was good, I was choreographing. I was in demand and oh...how I wish I could have lived that life if only for a little bit. It doesn't make me sad about my life now but I really do miss dancing.

The next night with a fabulous dream wasn't really night. I woke up at around 6 amish and always have a hard time getting back to sleep after that knowing that my boys will be up soon. Well, I drifted off enough to have a SERIOUSLY HOTTTT sex dream. It went through 5 rooms and numerous positions. It was AWESOME. I have maybe a sex dream a quarter so I was really happy about this one. I woke up with a sore back from arching so much and completely blissenated. When Joe left that morning I kissed him like I hadn't seen him in days and when he came home from work that night he kissed me like that too.

Last night was not my favorite. Let me start by saying the past 2 nights I have had awful nightmares. The night before last I had a dream that a dear friend from childhood had been killed in a car crash right before his new baby was born. I woke up with tears streaming down my face. Last night it was another (different friend) who committed suicide. Not sure what is wrong with my psyche right now but I need it fixed and pronto.

So along with my horrid nightmares I didn't get much sleep past the 3am mark. This has nothing to do with my little boys who are both pretty good sleepers. It's the big one. He's still a bit more of a night owl. He came to bed with me last night but I was tired and wanted to crash by 9. I asked him to lay in bed with me and watch a movie. He even gave me a foot rub! So he laid in bed with me and I drifted off. I wake up around the 3am timeframe because he is getting into bed again. Nothing terribly new here. He waits for me to fall asleep and then goes out and plays games or another movie or whatever. So i try to fall back asleep but my fabulous hubby apparently cannot breath without snoring. bad snoring. keep me awake snoring. I hit/nudged him about 20 times to get him to move into different positions before I finally gave up the fight and went into the front room to try and salvage some sleep (this was about 4:30). I woke up around 7 am as usual and the boys followed suit. I was pretty pissy as well at my hubby just waiting for the right time to lay into him but i had breakfasts to make and a 3rd grader to get to school. Joe stayed in bed longer and by the time i had everything ready to head off to school he was in the shower. When i got back i was fully prepared to dig into him for being a snorehead last night thus causing me a lack of sleep and THEN not getting up in a timely manner to help watch the baby so i could get trevin off to school easier. When he walked into the kitchen he told me he had a bad head cold and was sorry. He had slept on the couch until about 3 but it was starting to hurt his back and he needed to get some sleep so he could get to work at a decent hour but then come home early. And he said if he did come home early he'd make dinner...and rub my feet again.

So much for me bitching him out. such an ass.

We were a very loyal olmypic family as they ran through these last 2 weeks. Trevin is finally old enough to really get and get into them and he did. For some reason he ALWAYS wanted to see the high jump. That event was primarily on during the day but he saw a few athletes go at it. I don't think the US got very far on it though because there was very little coverage on it. Because of having the Olympics on most of the time I saw some cute things in our house.

Trevin continually set up our hallway as his hurdling event. Even using the baby when he got in the way. A good athlete doesn't get detured. Garrin has learned to throw his arms up and yell "YEAH!". Quite cute. Joe was absolute on one of the Russian gymnasts should insure her legs because dear lord...they were nice.

The opening ceremony was a funny time. Joe and I watched and picked out athletes we'd want to sleep with from each country (some had some really slim pickins') and tried to decide which sport lends itself to having the best bodies. I think we agreed on the all around as the sprinters. I like the swimmers bodies myself and the gymnasts (if they weren't all 5 feet tall).

By the end of these 2 weeks we had enjoyed many little moments of pride, patriotism and general human stirring. However, Trevin could quote every single comercial that they played and thought he was so smart for singing all the little jingles. We may need to leave the tv off for a bit now...

and now trevin is demanding that we head to London in 4 years to see them in person next time!

Trevin was in tears last night thinking about the unknown world of 3rd grade. He kept asking if he'd have homework, or if his teacher would make him do multiplications or cursive today! I calmed him as much as I could knowing that he'd be fine whatever his teacher threw at him.

With all of his fear he didn't wear himself out enough to sleep a full night. He was up at 6 freaking 30 this morning when i sent him into the front room to watch cartoons until i was coherent enough to cook something. Garrin followed suit and woke up 15 minutes later. ah, my early bird boys. but it gave us plenty of time to get some breakfest (eggs and toast) get ready and walk trevin up to school. Garrin thought it was great that all these kids were gathering to play with him and was terribly dissapointed to learn that he had to come home with boring ol' mom. Since we were up so early we left to school early but i think it made trevin feel better to be ahead of everyone. We made it up to the school and found his classroom and his teacher (young little thing) and then were asked to go back out of the school so that all the teachers and the mascot could greet all the children as they walked in under a balloon arch. cute. Last year they had a red carpet and fake photographers snapping the kids picutres as they entered. God bless the PTA for making such memories.

I think trevin will do stupendously. I'm not ready to have a 3rd grader though. I can tell you that my memory really starts to kick in at 3rd grade so now I'm worried about what Trevin will be stashing away in his cerebellum as his "youth". I'm hoping it's mostly good and one day when he's taking college alegebra classes he'll thank me for being a total natzi when it comes to his multiplication tables.

Garrin will give high-fives now.

Trevin is starting 3rd grade on Monday (where he gets to have class UPSTAIRS)

Joe is busting his butt at work.

Scot is actually making Trevin read, do math AND practice handwriting every day!

Andra is leaving for nursing school in a week.

Trevin is totally into the olympics and Tom & Jerry.

Garrin says "hi".

Joe is considering furthering his education in the computer realm.

And I am winding down my summer and getting ready to get my CNA!

Dear Garrin,
12 months ago I was miserably pregnant. Anyone who has made it through a normal pregnancy to the last 4 weeks understands this misery. The delivery was a nightmare. The fear of losing you was tangible to me and I prayed so hard that nothing would come of it. Thankfully, you were fine. And so was I, relatively speaking. You were mad at being ripped out of me but all scores, tests and assesments afterword spoke of your incredible abilities. I had to be stitched, assisted and medicated for quite a while after. But you were and are worth it.

Yesterday morning the thought of your birthday loomed. I had SO much to accomplish for what seems like a silly thing that you will never remember. The photos will be the only proof of all the hard work that was done in your honor. After your morning nap I plucked you out of your bed and walked into the front room where I sat on the floor to put you down to play. You had other ideas though. Let it be said, you are not a cuddler. Never really have been. When you are tired, hurt or in unfamiliar surroundings you will hide yourself in your father's or my neck but that's the extent of it. Yesterday though when I sat down to let you play you stayed on my chest. Thinking that you would automatically go for my mouth or hair or other amusing thing I didn't think anything of it. Until you laid your head on my chest and mached your breathing to mine. In that moment I was saddened at the loss of my baby boy. He is no longer a baby and at the brink of toddlerhood. You stayed on me and just loved for a few minutes. It makes me think that you were saying your final goodbye to your thoughts of ever returning to my uterus and being that close to my heartbeat.

The world stands before you. I will do my best to teach you what you need to know but I will not protect you past a certain point. You see, my love is complete but it can only take you so far. As we played on the floor after our moment I knew that what I had once heard was never truer. You will never see your child at that age, at that moment, in that way ever again. You must cherish the moments because you do not get them back. We had a wonderful time playing. Your laugh brightens my world.

I hope you will be patient with your father and I as we learn to let you go as you get more brave. No doubt you will need us for quite a while longer and we both plan on using that to our advantage for as long as possible. We are giving you the best life we can muster for you. I promise we will make mistakes as well. But as we both tumble I hope we can all get back up togther a little bit stronger.

You started out at only 6 pounds and completely dependent upon those around you. Now you are almost 20 pounds and able to do a great many things. You crawl, climb stairs (and go down them), can get onto and off the couch, can get into and out of your toybox and have taken about 3 steps unassisted.

Tonight your family (and it's a big one) will gather to celebrate you. I cannot say that I will be totally happy the whole time, but we will enjoy the frivolities planned. The pictures that we have taken over the past year will be shown on our tv as we go about presents and cake and visiting. Everytime I see the progression that has been these last 12 months my insides tighten and I know that I can't get any of those moments back but I will treasure them forever.

I love you.
momma.

Laundry gets a bad rap. Most people (especially mom's) tend to hate laundry. At least, that's what I hear... I don't see it that way. I've always had no problem at all with laundry. I find it kind of relaxing. Give me loads of towels and some background music/movie and I'm off to a nice little afternoon. I enjoy reorganizing clean clothes into nice piles that can be stacked/hung in closets. Never mind that heap of skirts on my closet floor. I can't seem to keep them organized in a manner that I can stick to.

Now, by NO stretch of the imagination am I a really clean person. Anyone who ever knew me in my teenage years will attest to the fact that as long as there was a path on my floor from the room to my bed, I called it clean. My mother couldn't say much about it because SHE was like that in her younger years too. My dad would just shudder and hide and pretend that he didn't have a third child. Every so often though I would get a bug to rearrange my room and do a really thorough clean job...and then let it fall back into routine until it would strike me again.

Those strikes come a bit more often these days. It's only taken a year or so of me being a stay at home mom for me to really apply myself in some cleaning areas. I vacuum regularly (thanks to my little crumb machine). I keep the bedrooms organized (if somewhat chaotic) and the kitchen clean because my mother taught me that if you clean as you go it's pretty easy. Mom was right. I try to clean as I go and it's not nearly as stressful at the end of the day. My cleaning standards are still not up to Joe's though. Which can be a bit puzzling to me at times. Joe will get an itch to clean and clean, clean, clean, clean, clean with rubber gloves and bleach and all. And then the next morning his dishes can't make it to the dishwasher, hell, they don't even get rinsed! Quite the enigma this man of mine. He is superb at the deep clean. When I see those rubber gloves I just move aside and take the quips of how this hasn't been done in a few months and how could we live in such filth? Knowing full well that if he makes dinner that night...the kitchen will look like a hurricane hit it. It's an odd thing.

Joe is also very thorough with his laundered items. I've never seen a man iron as much as Joe. I don't iron. Joe will take HOURS ironing all the creases in his shirts and slacks. I think it has something to do with the brainwashing they do from missions. I can't be sure though. My sister went on a mission and she's not an iron natzi. Maybe it's something they reserve for the boys to use up any free time to stay out of trouble.

I get instructions on Joe's clothes. This makes me think "what the hell is wrong with this man? He KNOWS that I already do so little around the house and he wants to make my laundry feel like a chore??? Is he just dying to hire a maid service?" Only certain shirts go in the dryer, most get hung after the wash. But only in specific ways because he doesn't want weird creases on the shoulders. This has to be washed in cold, this one warm...I've been instructed to put slightly wrinkled shirts in the dryer with loads of towels to help pull the wrinkles out, thus shortening his iron time. I keep telling him it just turns me on to see him iron so I like the pile to be high and thick but he doesn't seem to buy that.

Eventually, Joe will just have to buy me a house where I can have a laundry room to myself where the towels and musicals will always be fluffy and fun!

My knees and I have a very love/hate relationship. I try to love them and they hate me for it. For whatever reason, the stars are aligned, how I slept, or how I even took a step today, I am not sure my right knee has staged a coo. Not just a "Hey! Let's bother the big guy!" kinda thing. More like a "LET'S MAKE THE MOTHER OF 2 HOBBLE AROUND...BECAUSE WE CAN!!!!"

I'm praying that this is a fluke but the last knee surgery was 3+ years ago, so I'm probably due. I'm going to ignore it for as long as I can...


In much happier news I had the RARE occasion of having both my boys this weekend. It's been fun to actually have a whole day together as a family that's not a sunday. The cutest thing that my adorable Y chromosomed tykes have taken to is playing hide-and-seek in the toy box. Garrin can now climb into and out of it on his own (along with up and down on the couch) so they take turns getting into it and letting the other one "find them" by opening the lid and laughing wildly. I need to get it on camera. These are the moments we lame parental units need to keep us going.

It's almost enough to make me forget that I am old and crippled.

When I was little I would chew my finger nails. My son does it now. Drives me crazy. When I was about 6 I decided that I wanted pretty nails and to have those I needed to quit biting my nails, so I did.

As a teenager I had this really odd bad habit of chewing the inside of my mouth. My cheeks (the insides) would be raw and painful after stressful days and I can vividly recall my boyfriend scolding me to stop and even flicking me when I wouldn't. I can't remember how or when I really stopped doing this...but I did.

NOW I have this complete insane new habit that drives ME NUTS. I scratch and pinch my forearms to the point of scarring when bored/nervous/scared. I find these invisible pockets of nothing on my arms and pinch them until I bleed. It's not terribly painful but the more I am seeing my arms the more I think I need to go back to chewing on my mouth because at least then everyone else won't have see what a nut job I am...