First things first.  I am pleased to announce that Jackie at Our Moments, Our Memories is the winner of the $50 gift card as chosen by random.org.  Now, don’t get me wrong because I’m tickled that Jackie wins this one, but for real, when I toldit to choose a random integer between 1 and 60 and it spat the number one back at me I seriously had to question its work ethic.  But whatever.  Congrats Jackie, I’ll be in touch to figure out which of the fine merchants you’d like to patron with your fifty buckaroos.

Okay, now just a couple of random things to share because, well, because I don’t have a lot of time frankly.  Jeff has been out of town for the last few days and come this time of the evening all I really want to do is crawl into bed, big and empty as it may be.  At least it’s snore free so I shouldn’t complain.  But I’ve had the freakiest thing happen to me two nights in a row.  You remember how our glass top table broke in the storm last week?  Well, last night as I was cleaning up after dinner (and trying to wrangle four kids simultaneously btw), I broke a plate.  I didn’t have a plate in my hand and I have no clue where the plate came from.  I was pouring the leftover tortilla soup from the crock pot into a Rubbermaid and I heard this shattering and looked up to see that one of those shatter-resistant Corelle plates had shattered into thousands of pieces.  I kid you not when I tell you that it took me an hour to completely clean the mess.

Then, tonight, just as I was putting dinner on the table (burritos if you must know, and yes, we totally dig mexican) a glass mason jar plummeted from the tip top of the pantry shelves all the way to the concrete floor and, you guessed it, shattered into thousands of pieces.  The door of the pantry was closed at the time but the glass came swooshing (I don’t care if it’s a word I’m in a hurry here) from beneath the door and ended up all over the floor.

I may have used an itty bitty curse word that rhymes with bell, but c’mon what the *&^%?  That stupid jar must have been like teetering on the edge or something because nobody even was near the pantry when it decided to commit suicide.

So again I had to stop dinner and clean up.

Why is it that these things happen when I’m the only competent (and that’s arguable sometimes) adult around to pick up the pieces (no pun intended)?

A few years ago I would look out the window every morning to see a robin staring right back in at me.  Every morning he was there to greet me and he’d stop back in intermittently throughout the day.  Eventually I began to wonder if God was trying to tell me something so I looked up the significance of robins and found them to be a sign of fertility.  This happened at a stage in my life when pretty much the last thing I wanted was to be deemed fertile.  I smiled up at God though and said a little prayer asking that the cup of fertility be passed to someone who was a little more needy in that department.  It worked, apparently, because my womb remained closed for business until I was ready to put it back to use.

All that just to say that I’m wondering what significance all this broken glass has.  I haven’t taken the time to look it up but with the sheer quantity of glass shards I’ve cleaned up as of late I’m beginning to wonder just what God might be trying to tell me now.

Or maybe I’m just a klutz.

Anyway, I’m off to answer some trip planning questions for the Moms Panel.  And it’s bathroom cleaning week.  And you wouldn’t believe the amount of dirty towels that have accumulated since laundry day on Monday.

Psst.  Can I ask you something?

You see, I have a bit of a dilemma and I’m looking for advice. 

I have no clothes.  Okay, that’s not entirely true.  I haven’t resorted to nakedness.  But really, my closet has seen better days.

And so to remedy this major issue my amazingly wonderful husband has worked many hours of overtime recently all so that I can tackle these nasty wardrobe issues.  I’ve set aside some time on Saturday to go shopping.  And by “some time” I mean all day because, in all honesty, it will take me from sunup to sundown to bring my sorry state of dress up to par.

This is where you come in.

I am at a total loss as to what I should be buying and where I should be buying it.  I blame it on the crossroads in my life.  In October I turned 20/10 and with that milestone birthday I seem to have hit a wardrobe wall.  I almost feel like I’m stuck between two generations.  On one hand I can’t quite pull off the juniors department looks any longer (or maybe my tastes have changed) but on the other hand every time I meander into the Misses department it just screams “FRUMP” and I get scared and run the other way.

Not to mention my body issues.

I’m a rather short small framed girl but it’s never bothered me really because I’ve also always had nicely toned abs and a pleasantly flat midsection and so I’ve always been able to pull off some pretty daring looks.  But then two years ago I delivered a nine pound baby boy and things just aren’t snapping back the way they did after the first three babes. 

Might I just interject here to ask: What’s up with that  by the way?  I’m so over this getting old thing.

Okay, moving right along though.  So with this unwelcome extra junk around my midsection I am totally at a loss as to what I can wear that flatters, not frumps.

So I need suggestions.  Where can I go to find age-appropriate, yet stylish clothes?  I’m thinking I need some jeans, some nice tops for date nights that will go with the aforementioned jeans, a dress maybe?  And if I could sneak in some fall friendly clothes that would be good too.

I wish I had a personal shopper.  But I don’t so I’m relying on you.  Help a girl out wouldya?  Where do I go?  What do I buy?  What brands are cute but not out-of-this-world expensive?  What are the staples I need to have in my closet?

Oh, and don’t forget that I’ll be announcing the winner in my gift card giveaway Wed. so if you haven’t entered, now is your last chance!

I don’t know about your house, but around here shiny new backpacks and eager faces like those can mean only one thing.  You guessed it: back to school!  Yes, it’s early.  We’re on a year-round schedule round about these parts and it actually works out quite well.

In celebration of the big day we had a little shindig Sunday night.  We called it our Back-To-School-BBQ-Bash and it was so much fun I think we’ll have to make it a tradition.  Thanks to the monsoon, the weather was relatively cool and perfect for hanging out back while Jeff fired up the grill.  We turned on the newly purchased bubble machine ($7 bucks on clearance at Target FYI) and let Cass and Jayce go hog wild while Torri, Kennedy, and I sat around our defunct table for some good old fashioned girl talk.  

You all know that I think when it comes to family fun Disney World is tough to beat.  But times like these, my friends, rival even the best Disney days.

I can’t tell you how good it feels to have each and every one of my children tucked safely into their own beds, all under my roof.   Seeing them playing and laughing and genuinely happy to be hanging out is about the best family fun I can ask for.

After dinner they were treated to one of our favorite summer desserts: strawberry pie.  Then we made Back to School time capsules.  I had previously come up with some beginning of the year relevant questions/statements (right now I am ____ inches tall or my best friend is _____) for the girls to fill out.  We brought out the scale and the measuring tape and made a big ta-doo about recording their data.  They filled out all the questions, and finished it off with a note to their future selves and their signatures (or scratchy block lettered name in Cassidy’s case).  They traced their hands on the blank side of the page and then inserted the papers into empty mason jars.  I’m going to print out the pictures I took of them this morning and include those in the capsules as well.  And to finish ‘em off both Jeff and I are going to write letters to each of the girls and deposit those inside before sealing the capsules up for good.  I think it’ll be a lot of fun to open them up at our End-of-the-year-BBQ bash.  Even they’ll be surprised at what a difference a year makes.

And so it begins again.  The packing of the lunches.  Rushed mornings.  The griping over bad hair days.  Homework.  Gymnastics classes and yoga lessons.  Agendas and checklists and paperwork.  Fund raisers and field trips and PTA membership drives. 

And that’s only the first month.

But for all those frenzied moments we encounter during the school year, there is reward.  Long weekends and school holidays.  Moments when we can let it all go and just be.  Evenings punctuated with bubbles and laughter.  Friday game nights and Saturday morning blueberry pancakes. 

Yeah.  It’s definitely  the little things that take up the most space in your heart. 

I tease her that I’m glad she’s home because I need her to get back to emptying the dishwasher.

And taking out the bathroom trash twice a week.

Between me and you though… there’s much more to it than that.

She is THE FUNNIEST kid.  Especially when she’s not trying to be.

The love in her heart for her sisters and brother almost brings me to tears.

She avoids showers like the plague, but when she finally gives in and gets clean, the smell of her hair when she snuggles in for a hug is so darn sweet.

She spends hours planning and plotting the Disney pins she wants to aquire during our upcoming trip.  Truly, a girl after my own heart.

She is sensitive and generous and honestly the most loving little thing around. 

And now that she’s home, my heart is intact.

It’s official.  With this post I’ve hit the big 100.  And, not wanting to break from tradition, I put myself to task and came up with 100 very random (and hopefully a tad interesting) things about yours truly.  So, without further ado, I present me (the condensed version!)…

1. I wrote a novel. It’s unpublished, but it’s a novel nonetheless.
2. I’ve been saying that I’m going to find a publisher, but I haven’t tried very hard.
3. I graduated high school a year before I was supposed to.
4. I was pregnant, not genius.
5. Fast food disgusts me.
6. My favorite pizza toppings are green olives, pineapple, artichoke hearts and red pepper.
7. I’m not a pet person.
8. It’s not that I don’t like animals.
9. Well, okay. I guess it is that.
10. I consider myself a scrapbooker but I can’t remember the last time I completed a page.
11. I often dream of losing my teeth. Those dreams are always painful.
12. I looked this up on a dream interpretation web site once and learned that teeth dreams signify a feeling of helplessness, or a fear of things being out of control.
13. That makes sense because I am totally type A.
14. My favorite author is Jodi Picoult.
15. Her novels, My Sister’s Keeper and Change of Heart had me sobbing like a baby.
16. I had a mole removed recently that came back with abnormal cells.
17. Ever since, I’ve been a freak about wearing sunscreen and lathering it on my children, much to their chagrin.
18. For that, and for their diets rich in whole grains and suspiciously lacking anything with high fructose corn syrup, I’m sure they’ll thank me one day.
19. We do eat sweets. Homemade, typically, with real sugar, not the fake stuff.
20. And I make exceptions when we’re on vacation. We’re plain gluttonous then.
21. Since we’re talking vacations, I confess that I am nothing if not a Disneyphile.
22. When I’ve had a bad day my family tries to cheer me by asking me Disney World trivia questions during dinner.
23. I’ve recently gone green. I don’t use the heat cycle on my automatic dishwasher and we use canvas shopping bags for our groceries.
24. I’ve even started buying green cleaners for our home. I think that officially makes me a convert.
25. I don’t much care for jewelry. I find it heavy and obnoxious.
26. A pair of one carat princess cut diamond stud earrings, though, would really put a smile on my face.
27. Oh, and a Tiffany bracelet. Every girl should get something in the little blue box.
28. I have the best, most nostalgic memories of spending time at my grandparents’ house as a little girl. Rides in their wheelbarrow, rummaging through treasures in the barn, and picking fruit from the trees and vines are among the memories I hold most dear.
29. I think one of the funniest things in the world is my husband’s reaction to gross things. I enjoy strategically placing little balls of earwax so that he happens upon them when he least expects it.
30. Right after our son was born I dreamed of using a medicine dropper to squeeze little beads of breastmilk into my husband’s ear while he slept. The sound of my own laughter woke me up.
31. I have a heart shaped face and pointy ears. I used to want to have them (my ears that is) surgically pinned back but I’ve come to appreciate them now. They’re pixie-ish like Tink’s.
32. Three things I’ve always wanted: a boob job, a tattoo, and to have my teeth whitened.
33. I‘ve managed to do two of the three and I’m holding out hope that the third will happen one day.
34. Since moving to Arizona, I’ve found a rattlesnake on my front doormat, a scorpion on the rug by my couch, and a tarantula crawling up the wall by my front door (outside of the house).
35. I can’t stand to let my bed go unmade.
36. The first time I ever drank, I was well under the legal drinking age. It was Peppermint Schnapps. Way, WAY too much Peppermint Schnapps. To this day I can’t take a whiff of it without throwing up in my mouth.
37. I don’t foresee myself ever being compelled to vote for a Democrat.
38. I can’t swim.
39. Or sing a single note in tune.
40. With each passing year I become more of germaphobe. I can no longer walk barefoot on hotel room carpeting and if I don’t sanitize my hands immediately after pumping gas I feel like my skin is going to melt away.
41. The word “retard,” when thrown around inconsequently, makes me cringe.
42. As does the phrase, “oh my God” when it’s used frequently and irreverently.
43. I love having manicured fingernails, but I hate having manicures. That whole cuticle pushing and cutting thing really creeps me out.
44. Board games are one of my favorite things.
45. With the exception of Monopoly.
46. I hate Monopoly.
47. In the fall, I used to love to soak in a hot bath after dinner. But then last October we bought a hot tub and I don’t think I’ve used the bathtub since.
48. I stopped eating red meat when I was 12.
49. The smell of rain puts a smile on my face.
50. I want to move to Florida and work at Disney World when the kids are grown and Jeff retires.
51. I love People magazine but can’t bring myself to pay what they require for a subscription.
52. By the time my youngest turns 18, I will have been raising children for 30 years.
53. I’ve given birth to four babies.
54. The first one was completely natural.
55. The next three, not so much.
56. I require piping hot food.
57. Unless it’s a salad in which case I require fresh and crisp. No brown leaves.
58. I. Love. Reality TV.
59. I. Hate. ESPN.
60. Whenever I feel nauseous my thoughts gravitate towards carnival foods. Cotton candy, caramel apples, funnel cakes. It’s a little form of torture my mind puts me through.
61. I also think of a cow’s underbelly when I drink milk and scrawny, scratchy, scaley chicken legs when I eat chicken. Again, torture.
62. My husband and his family freely talk about gross things (think bathroom humor) while they eat. I find it disturbing.
63. If heaven has TV, mine will show a continuous loop of hidden camera shows.
64. I’m a homebody.
65. I don’t inherently know right from left. I have to sign my name in the air to know which is which.
66. I’m left handed by the way.
67. Fall is my favorite season.
68. It’s very easy for me to admit that I’m wrong to my children when I behave badly in front of them.
69. It’s REALLY REALLY REALLY hard for me to admit that I’m wrong to my husband.
70. That’s probably due in part to the fact that I’m right 97% of the time.
71. I couldn’t properly iron a piece of clothing if my life depended on it.
72. The second toe on each of my feet is longer than its neighboring big toe.
73. Ever since I started a blog I’ve taken to carrying a camera in my purse.
74. It’s necessitated me carrying a much larger purse.
75. I don’t care much for chocolate.
76. I’d choose crème brulee, cheesecake, or bread pudding over a fudge brownie hands down.
77. My knowledge of all things technical begins and ends with email.
78. Except of course for posting on my blog. Obviously.
79. I’m slightly anal when it comes to balancing my checkbook. The teensiest discrepancies keep me from sleep.
80. Non-fiction books typically don’t do a thing for me.
81. I could spend all day in a book store though.
82. I grew up in California, but I don’t care so much for the beach.
83. The wineries they have there though? Now those I enjoy.
84. I liken myself to Jesus in that my drinks of choice are water or wine.
85. I’m learning to treat myself to iced chai lattes or sweet tea a bit more often though.
86. I don’t understand why people like coffee. It’s bitter and caffeine-laden.
87. Mocha Almond Fudge ice cream from Baskin Robbins, though, is heaven. sent.
88. A few years ago I went through a Dr. Laura phase.
89. Even the wine fell victim.
90. I’m back to normal these days though.
91. Probably a heathen by Dr. Laura’s standards.
92. I went to a private religious school from K-5th.
93. It wasn’t until my daughter was born with Down syndrome though that I truly, willingly, and whole-heartedly turned to God.
94. I love to watch Survivor but I could never do it.
95. Peeing (and, um defecating) in the woods is SO not my thing.
96. With the birth of my fourth child I let daily showers go by the wayside.
97. I like to think of it as another means of water conservation.
98. I’ve never traveled abroad.
99. I used to want to, but now I’m not sure I could endure that long of a flight.
100. Writing this list proved easier than I thought it would be.

Monsoon.  It’s a word that strikes joy in the hearts of us Southern Arizonans.  My friend and desert neighbor Kellie explains our unbridled giddiness at the prospect of an afternoon thunderstorm far better than I could so I’ll let her beautiful post do the honor.  But suffice it to say that monsoon season around these parts is something we all look forward to with eager anticipation.

I would be remiss though if I didn’t admit my initial confusion about the word ‘monsoon.’

When we first heard about it I mistakenly confused the ‘monsoon’ season with the typhoon season  (I know, I know.  I never claimed to be a genius though so leave me alone).  Images of rooftops being torn away from buildings and carried off in the wind left me wondering if this little spot in Southern Az was the right place for me.  Of course my confusion was quickly cleared up when our neighbor explained that the monsoon was nothing more than a season full of refreshing afternoon showers with only an occasional flooded wash.  No biggie.

Or so I was led to believe.

Last night I sat with my family at the dinner table and we watched through our large picture windows as the sky turned that telltale glowing navy blue.  It wasn’t long before the winds started kicking up, whipping through our yard, howling all the while.  After dinner, as I was clearing away the dishes, the rain came.  It started with just big ‘ol pumpkin seed drops but within minutes those drops began coming in sheets, moving solidly across the yard.  Not wanting to miss a minute of it we went out to the front porch and watched as it spilled like a hydrant from the spouts in our roof.

It was as we were coming back inside that I heard a crash in the backyard.  I assumed that one of our patio chairs had blown over as they commonly do during these storms.  When I raised the blind from the side window though I began to fear that it was something else.  Something worse.

We own a glass top patio table.  Or, should I say that we used to own a glass top patio table.  Now we own a topless patio table. 

Check out the damage my friends.

I’m almost embarrassed to post these because it’s such a filthy mess.  I can assure you it wasn’t before the monsoon.  We had gathered up all the toys and placed them at the corner of the patio to “protect” them from the storm.  Yeah, well, so much for that. 

For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how it had happened.  That is until I saw that noticeable chunk out of the stucco.  As best I can gather it looks like the wind picked up the glass top and smashed it against the house.  And thus the shattering of the glass.  Apparently even weathered glass doesn’t hold up against that sort of, well, weather.

I swear every time I inch closer to being able to afford that new top-loading washer and dryer that I’ve been wanting something takes me two steps back.  Grrr!

Big news around these parts.  I’m edging ever closer to a blogging milestone.  And what better way to celebrate than to host a giveaway?  But seeing as how I like to be different, this isn’t your typical ‘leave a comment and potentially win a prize’ type giveaway.  That’s too easy.  I’m going to require that you familiarize yourself with my little blog here if you want to win what I’m giving away.  Here’s the deal: 

I’ve made up five questions about random things I’ve posted about in the past.  As you can see I’ve included links to assist you as you hunt for the correct answers.  Once you read each and every word find the correct answer, you have to take two steps. 

     * Send me an email with your responses.
     * Leave a comment here telling me which of the posts you found most entertaining.

This giveaway will end around 5 pm Arizona time on Wednesday, July 16th.  Once I have contacted the winner I will post his or her name here.  Obviously that means that you’ll need to supply me with a valid email address.  And please accept my apologies but I can only ship the prize to US addresses.

What is the prize?  Well, now that is (partially) up to the winner.  He or she will receive a $50 gift certificate to Borders, Bath and Body Works, Pier 1, Gap, Buca di Beppo, Banana Republic, Bed Bath & Beyond, DSW Shoes, Express, Lands’ End, J. Jill, KB Toys, Destination Maternity, Shutterfly or Sephora.  Winner’s choice.  For clarification that means winner chooses one.  Not winner chooses all.

So what do you think?  Is it worth playing for?  (I sound like Jeff Probst don’t I?) 

Survivors ready?  And go!

1)  Which MD inspired my “people who smell bad” concept?

2) Besides learning to read, name another accomplishment of This Child.

3) What type of produce mishap led to this post?

4) How old was I when I first became a mother?

5) What adult beverage did Brooke and I drink on the porch?

Yeah, so, that’s about it.  Have fun and good luck.

I’ve been known to complain about her morning funk.

Sometimes I swear that if I see the phone at her ear one more time I’m just gonna, well, I don’t know but it won’t be pretty.

The sight of her dirty clothes on the bathroom floor tests my patience to no end.

But oh how I miss this teenage girl when she’s gone.

I miss her goofy laugh.  Her off the wall comments.  Her hugs.

Today when I picked her up at the airport, my heart skipped inside my chest.

She’s home.  And not a moment too soon.

No. She. Didn’t.

I’m going to toss and turn in my sleep tonight.  My heart is heavy friends.

I love big D.  I wish I could be happy for her.  But I so can’t be happy about this.  If ever a mistake has been made in Bachelorette history this. is. it.

Jeff and I had dreams of Jason, DeAnna and Ty moving in to the house across the way.  We’d have had couples game nights and backyard BBQ’s.  We’d have taken long weekend trips to a cabin up near Flagstaff and shared stories over campfires and Smores.  But alas, it wasn’t to be.

Of course there is the fact that I was wrong, and that in itself is shocking.  But the fact that big D chose Mr. rad-man, Mr. no doubt man, Mr. snowboard man, over the wholesome, fun-loving, cute & cuddly, all together great catch Jason?!  Well, it’s just absurd.  And I’m heartbroken yet again.

Sheesh.  If she was going to go the throw-caution-to-the-wind route she could have at least kept Graham around.  Now that was chemistry.

To quote DeAnna’s skin-deep fiance, “That’s ridiculous.”

I’m off to bed to cry myself to sleep now.  Talk amongst yourselves.

     If you’ve visited a theme park recently you’re accustomed to the security screenings they do just outside the gates of said park where they rifle through your bags in search of concealed weapons and the like.  I’m always a disappointment to those rent-a-cops though because the most exciting thing in my purse is a just-in-case pantyliner and a tiny tube of Play-doh to keep Jayce occupied in a pinch.  This past weekend at Sea World the guy checking me for contraband asked if I carried mace or pepper spray.  Um, no?  Am I in the minority on that?  Hmm.  Anyway, I’m glad they do those haphazard checks to prevent gang bangers and ax murderers from going crazy while they wait in the bleachers for Shamu to appear, but I think that in this day and age they should maybe take those screenings a step further in an effort to prepare touristy types for proper theme park procedures.  And, having just returned from a Southern California theme park (on a national holiday no less, bad idea btw) I thought maybe a few suggestions from lil ‘ol me might prove helpful in the quest to ready guests for the experience.

     I’m thinking everybody should pass a simple test before they can gain entry.  And, just to simplify, this little test I’ve concocted requires a 100% score.  Those who can’t muster up should not be permitted entry into any theme park, concert, or any other public venue for that matter.  I mean really.  I’d gladly pay ten or even twenty dollars more per person if everyone I shared the park with on any given day had passed this simple multiple choice test.  

Stopping in a crowded midway as hundreds, if not thousands, of people attempt to maneuver the park is:
a) generally conducive to the overall flow of traffic.
b) A-Okay, by golly, especially if little Katelyn suddenly needs a fresh coating of sunscreen!
c) rude, self-centered and completely obnoxious. 

Personal Space is:
a) relevant, depending upon from which country you hail
b) overrated
c) something most American people value and hold near and dear to our hearts.  Infringing upon aforementioned personal space is not recommended.

Cutting in line is:
a) okay, as long as you feign ignorance while speaking in a foreign tongue.
b) okay, as long as your child leads the way and you innocently tag along.
c) annoying enough to warrant a swift, though completely accidental, elbow to the ribcage.

Bathing suits as attire are:
a) hot and sexy.
b) flattering, especially if your boobs dip dangerously close to your waistline and swing low like sweet chariots.
c) acceptable only for a day at the pool or beach, and only then with a proper cover up.

Arriving to a show at the last minute and asking those who’ve been waiting in the hot sun for thirty minutes to move out of the prime seats to make room for your tardy family is:
a) endearing.
b) advisable.
c) reason enough to be drop kicked.

     I know, I know.  I look all sweet and innocent and PC on the outside.  But once you let me cook in the sun and surround me with hoards of corndog eatin’, funnel-cake totin’, bad breath havin’, sweaty, pushy people who don’t know the meaning of the word ‘considerate,’ I tend to crack a bit.  Rest assured, no theme park goers were hurt during the research portion of this post. 

     One or two might have come close though. 

     I’m just sayin’.