Time travel, part 3

In September of 2008, we packed our suitcases and flew the entire family to Disney World for 10 days. Actually, Ken flew to Florida for business, and I flew out with all five kids and Ken's mom, Rosie, several days later. This left me at home with five kids (9, 10, 12, 17, 18), packing all of us for a vacation 3000 miles away, and trying not to lose my $#!+. Hilarity ensues.


This is from an email I sent to my sweetie the day before our flight, after hearing him talk about his lovely hotel, his dinner plans, and all the sunshine...

So- here is my day today. . . 

1. Up at oh-my-god-it's-early, wake, feed, shepherd unruly small people. Smalls out the door- #4 forgot his lunch- send #3 running down the street after them- too late, they're gone.
2. Take #3 to orchestra rehearsal, only 10 minutes late.
3. Drive to bank for cash for a camera I found on craigslist, arrive at the house after driving past it and making a u-turn-- only to realize that I hadn't gotten exact change and lady didn't have change. 
4. Drive to store down the street- get change- drive back- buy camera (it's AWESOME) and head to store for a memory card.
5. Make necessary purchases at store, dither over bag for camera for far too long. Walk down to check boss's mailbox, only to find that the mailbox lease expired and I needed to renew it-- $61-- and drop mail in car. 
6. Walk to Starbucks. Get delicious coffee and donut and head back to car-- only to realize I forgot to grab receipt from mail guy. 
7. Walk back to mail place- get receipt- walk back to car in time to catch Cobalt-dog finishing my donut. 
8. Walk back to Starbucks, buy another donut. And a cookie.
9. Drive home- do some email stuff- head back out to DEQ.
10. Line of cars at DEQ 6 deep- one bay open.  Open book- settle in to wait- read steamy sex scene- miss you for a minute- realize it's time to head back to the school to give #4 his lunch and a shot. 
11. Leave DEQ-only one car ahead of me now- aaack- only to arrive at the school 5 minutes late and #4 has just corrected a low- he had his snack late. 
12. Head back to DEQ- only one person in line- 4 bays open- waved right in- out again in 5 minutes. Sigh heavily.
13. Drive to fabric store- buy brightly colored ribbon to tie on checked baggage for easy identification in post-flight panic mode. 
14. Search every store in mall for swim suit for #1- nothing. She might have to swim in shorts.
15. Answer call from #2, who reminds me that #1 [foster child] does not have state-issued photo ID for airport security. Panic slightly.
16. Home for smalls when they mosey in after school. Begin checking into getting ID for #1.  Need SS card and birth certificate-- have certificate-- one out of two isn't bad, right? 
17. Call DMV to question requirements- find out that they no longer issue ID on the spot- it now takes 2 weeks to arrive.
18. Put head between knees and try to breathe deeply.  Plot ways to sneak #1 onto plane- big suitcase? forged documents? dog crate and fuzzy costume?
19. After several more phone calls to the DMV and airports (here and Orlando)- I have established that her birth certificate and school ID will get her in, but she will be subjected to "additional security measures" (particle machine? drug sniffing dogs? strip search?). 

So, now I am arguing with #5 over chores and she's talking (tattling? whining?)to my dad on the phone about it. If she knew how many chores I had from that man as a kid, she might rethink her target.


#4 is carefully cleaning the kitchen, and #1 is trying to get her SS card from her vaguely psychotic mother.

Shortly, I will leave for the bank to make a deposit- followed by the video store to return movies- grocery store for milk and a couple of chickens for dinner.

Rosie is taking the smalls to soccer (thank goodness) and #1, #2, and I will be packing here.  I sincerely hope we have enough suitcases.




We did, indeed, pack everything that night, well into the wee hours of the morning. I was very tired, and I packed the carry-on bags last. Keep this in mind...


The following day, the shuttle was to pick us up at 6 am, so getting everyone up and out the door was a bit challenging. (Fortunately, the promise of Disney World at the other end of the line was a good motivator.) We piled into the van, stopped to pick up Rosie, and we were off like a herd of turtles. We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, and everyone had a "travel buddy" (one big, one small) except me, so I could take care of things like checking the bags, getting everyone through security intact, and most importantly, getting Mommy a lot of coffee. And Grammy. We were a little slow. It was early.


Which doesn't explain what happened next. Soon.


We found our gate, found seats, and settled in to relax until the flight boarded. The kids were a bit restless, so they wandered, but not far. I was in danger of exploding into tiny-Mommy-bits (from the stress let-down following the long week of single-parenting five kids while preparing for a trip, and too much coffee) so when the line for boarding began forming, I was a little slow on the uptake and we wound up past halfway down the long line, sort of straggling out into the concourse.


At this point, #4 asks if he can run the the restroom. From our handy vantage point in the middle of the traffic flow, I can see the men's room clearly, so I send him and his brother off to TCB before we board. (Visions of boys dancing in their seats-- holding it until the aisle clears-- running through my head.) 


[Before I go any further, I would like to remind everyone about the late-night packing and the wee-early morning carry-on packing. At some point, I had a conversation with #1 that went something like this: 
me: "Do you think I should pack a change of clothes in the carry on bags for the kids? Or are they old enough to manage a 9 hour flight without destroying what they are wearing?" 
#1: "Well... they are 9 and 10..."
me: "You're right. They will be fine without changes."
This is probably not what she meant at all, but I was tired. That is all.]


Just as the line began to move, the boys wander back into the picture. As I gather our bags, I notice a vague smell and a large wet spot on the front of #4's shirt. After a round of rapid-fire questions (me) and somewhat slower answers (them) it is determined that #4 had experienced some sort of malfunction involving the elastic waist band on his shorts... er... mid-stream. #3 was mystified as to the specifics, but he and Grammy ran to the nearest gift shop for a souvenir shirt while we broke out the peach-scented hand-sanitizer and waved people past us in line. Eventually, we made it onto the plane in time, and then to Orlando, with some small adventures in between, carrying with us a vague scent of peaches, rubbing alcohol, and something else. 


When we reached Ken and regaled him with the story of our damp misadventure, he nodded wisely and said something along the lines of, "Oh, yes, that can happen when you wear elastic waists and just pull them down to..." and the rest was lost, as I fell onto the floor in hysterical laughter. As the mother of girls, who came lately to the mystery that is the mothering of boys, this matter-of-fact approach to our pee-covered jet-setting son still makes me giggle.


Disney World was fabulous. There were changes in the carry-on bags on the way home.

Time travel, part 2

September, 2006... Girls are 7 and 15.

The girls are playing with Playmobil, which is one of the few things D will still play with L.  I just heard the following exchange, explaining why:

D:  If I can have the pirate with the unicycle, you can have the bearded lady.

L:  I want the bearded lady, but I also want to have the devil boy and the goat that used to be Grandpa.

D:  I really want the devil boy, 'cause his stuff matches the pirate, but you can have the fawn in the wheelchair.  Do you want the covered wagon or the schoolbus?

L:  Hey, can I have the snowmen with laser vision, so they can guard the treasure?  Where is the saddle for the pig?

(I'm pretty sure none of these characters were on the packages when I bought this stuff.)

Girls recently... still weird.

Time travel, part 1

I was looking through some old emails and came across this bit I wrote several years ago, when my kids were much smaller, and still kind of cute. This was sometime in 2007, pick any day:

 Okay, so my morning goes like this:

1. Wake up after the alarm has been going off for at least fifteen minutes. Stumble downstairs to brew coffee. Blessed, blessed coffee.
2. Wrestle 5 grouchy children out of bed into a freezing cold house-- freezing because the timer for the furnace is on the blink again-- feed them.
3. Remind child #4 (10-year old ) to test his blood glucose before eating.
4. Try to snatch a few bites of yogurt.
5. Remind him again.
6. Attempt to influence clothing decisions. Futile.
7. Take waffle away from #4 and remind him again. ADHD and juvenile diabetes really ought to be mutually exclusive.
8. Push children out into the rain. 13-year old (#3) won't wear jacket (not cool?), 17-year old (#2) has lost bus pass, 18-year old is patiently digging through her purse for change (bus fare for #2), and 9-year old (#5) has a field trip for which she needs rain boots. #4 rushes back into house to pee one more time before the long walk to school (four blocks- you'd think it was a death march).
9. Kiss the Man good-bye, remind him to win bread, bring home bacon, etc.
10. Reach for yogurt, miss it, follow licking sounds to dining room table, under which dog is ensconced-- finishing my yogurt.
11. Eat toasted bagel (the part not licked by the dog) and burn tongue on cup of too-hot coffee.
12. Let dog outside, chase him through the open gate (in my pajamas), close gate, and step in fresh poop on my way back inside.
13. Clean off poop.
14. Listen (from my seat in the bathroom) to dog shredding, mutilating, and dragging newspaper from the recycling bin. Wash hands, then pick up shredded paper and let whining dog back outside, then back in. Again.
15. Slam cup of coffee, now cold.
16. Try to log onto laptop, only to find it has frozen and won't budge. Hard boot.
17. Laundry, while I'm waiting.
18. Log into email, delete 127 (give or take) junk mails about Erectile Dysfunction and breast implants, and search for the laser tag link for the kid's birthday.
19. Pay the laser tag people (ouch) and log into bank account to check balances.
20. Discover SEVERAL charges I don't recognize. Breathe deeply.
21. Write a few politely worded emails to the bank (WHAT THE HELL???) and continue to breathe deeply.
22. Call local branch of bank, speak with three individuals of varying authority (and intelligence), am advised to write email. Really very helpful. Really.
23. Stalk dramatically about the house for a moment (or two), talking to the dog and waving my hands.
24. Dishes. Why do we have so many dishes?
25. Laundry. Again.
26. Take out kitchen trash. Pick up spilled rice from bottom of bag, which has a hole in it and left a trail from the kitchen through the family room to the back door.
27. Head up to the playroom to get the vacuum cleaner to clean up rice. Notice slightly rank smell coming from somewhere. Head downstairs, trip over cat A, step on tail of cat B, suffer aggrieved looks from both. 
28. Vacuum rice, fending off dog who is sure the vacuum is after him and chases it, nipping at it and barking his fool head off. Dork.
29. Back upstairs to playroom, seeking source of smell. Turn on air hockey table in an attempt to flush out the smell of (aha!) mildew from the last time the kids spilled on it. Spray on cleaning stuff, wipe off cleaning stuff, fight off dog (who is sure I'm down on the floor to play with him and/or the hockey table is trying to kill me) and open a few windows.
30. Listen to dog barking at the air hockey table while folding laundry.
31. Think about taking a vacation. Alone. Somewhere hot, with fancy umbrella/coconut-type drinks. A lot more thinking.
32. Clean up more shredded paper. Who needs a shredder? We can give our private documents to the dog.
33. Fight some medication into the cat C, who is wearing an Elizabethan collar from the vet and hates his life. A.K.A. the cat in the iron mask.
34. Alright, I'll admit it. I drank a Diet Coke through some Red Vines and ate a truffle.
35. Clean up tissues from #4's bed. Try to put humidifier back together. Take pieces downstairs for later reassembly. Might just buy new one,
36. Clean kids bathroom. For real. Yes, I realize the boys "cleaned" it yesterday. (Why is there pee on the back of the toilet? And the wall?!?) Put towels away, get laundry off floor, and arrange baskets on counter to be of some use.
37. Realize that the smell coming from the air hockey table might be impossible to remove. Try not to breath deeply. Open windows. House now freezing for real.
38. Let whining dog outside. Yes, again. No more yogurt for him.
39. Call the school to remind them that child #2 has an appointment and needs to leave early-- as is clearly stated in the note I sent with #2. ("What note?") *sigh*

Now, I'm going to take a small sanity break, followed by a trip to the grocery store. Oh, wait. The car is full of donations for the school rummage sale. Ok, so I'll go to the school first, store next, then home to unload groceries. Then to school #2 to pick up child #2 for doctor appointment, drop her, back to school #1 for 2 youngest children, then back to doctor to pick up #2... *sigh*. Sanity break will have to wait... and will likely be followed by more vacuuming.

Rainy Days & Mondays, part five

Have you ever had a day that felt like it would never end? That was today. Like a good mother (hey, I can fake it) I brought the sick child to the office with me, where she spent the day lying on the sofa, coughing and being pathetic. The dogs (who come to work with me regularly and ought to be used to it by now) decided that today was a good day to try and eat the UPS man, while I fended phone calls from people trying to a) sell me packing tape, b) sell me shipping services, or c) clean our offices. Not a single call from anyone who wanted to give me money... not that I'm really complaining. Maybe, someday, if I can get the corporate checking account to balance, or the production schedule to level out a little, or hammer out answers to the 4756 urgent emails sporting their little red flags in my inbox, I'd be willing to listen to someone explain the relative virtues of their packing tape versus the stuff I've been buying for five years. This was not that day.

Today was the day when I spilled my chai on my chair, then had to clean it up while simultaneously fending off the dogs (Who wanted to help. Really.) and answering the phone ("No, we don't need any packing tape. Seriously."). Add 20 minutes of wiping, scrubbing, and pulling sticky napkins out of the dog's mouth.

Today was the day when my eldest daughter texts me from work requesting creamy-cheesy-chicken enchiladas for dinner, and I respond "Yes" (Because I am a soft-hearted, indulgent kind of mother. And an idiot.) so then I follow it with "If you clean the kitchen"... at least I don't have to do the dishes, right? Add a shopping trip and two hours of cooking to the list.

Today was the day I finally sent the email to the insurance company that our rep has been requesting for a week... only to find he is out of the office until the week after the form is due. Add 30-minutes of searching for someone else to handle the forms.

Today was the day I received an email from one of our customers asking about a change we had made... about which I had composed a press release, then failed to send it. I am planning to crown myself the queen of procrastination, but I keep putting it off.

Today was the day my inbox was filled with orders (Yay!)... all due on the same day. Add an hour of re-scheduling production so they aren't working 24/7 and no one wants to kill me. (It didn't really take an hour, but there were calls to answer, a sick child to feed, and the dogs versus the aforementioned UPS man.)

All in all, the day was not terrible, just very, very long. I was reasonably productive at work, the sick child perked up as soon as we got home and there was no chance of school, the enchiladas were amazing (the quadruple batch I made so we could have leftovers is nearly gone), and at the end of it all... here I am, with time to talk to you.

Today's free kit piece can be combined to create a two-page spread.  I have included a page from our adventure scrapbook as an example.

Click HERE to download from 4shared, and HERE to download from MediaFire.

Rainy Days & Mondays, part four

Today, an umbrella and a frog friend, a leaf to blow around, and a stormy background.

I had no idea how many rainy day pictures I have taken over the years-- I am trying to stick to pics from our big RV trip last spring, so at least I'm not boring you with old stories. Instead, I will bore you with new ones.

We traveled through 24 states last spring, during the worst tornadoes in recent memory. We somehow managed to stay a full day ahead of the scary weather, thank goodness. We heard the news each day about the terrible weather we just missed in each state we traveled through; quite frankly, I was beginning to take it sort of personally and feel rather guilty for not getting caught up in any serious thunderstorms when so many people along our travels were hit with much worse.

Although the truly spectacular and frightening storms avoided us, we were rained on, hailed on, fogged in, snowed in, snowed on, and also experienced some truly glorious sunshine. Every state was different, sometimes each mile. We went from snow to driving wind (the kind that feels like it wants to carry you away, spinning like a leaf) then to sunshine and rainbows, to thunderstorms with truly spectacular lightening, to hailstones the size of golf balls... and totally worth experiencing every mile, every drop.

Click HERE to download from 4shared, and HERE to download from MediaFire.

Rainy Days & Mondays, part three

 A very sad day. We had to put our tiny Nemo-cat to sleep. She has been struggling to stay healthy for months, and we've been helping-- giving her IV fluids and force-feeding her when necessary, and giving her a variety of medications to try and treat what we hoped was a thyroid condition, or possibly irritable bowel...

If you have been reading for the last couple of days, you know that we took her to the vet again on Sunday. We brought her back home, hopeful, but with no new information. She seemed unchanged, if a little grouchy. Sometime on Sunday evening, she broke out of the dressing area/bathroom where she had been sequestered away from the other cats, who like to steal her high-nutrient food. Try as we might, we simply could not locate her-- and we searched high, low, under, over... It's a big house, and for the better part of two days she eluded us, hiding without food or water. I think I knew when she didn't appear for her usual evening repast at our bedtime that there was something more sinister going on.

I finally found her today, under my daughter's bed behind a few stray plush animals and a couple of board games, her favorite place. She was lethargic and pitiful, drooping in my arms like a little black furry bag of bones. She had no interest in her food but scarcely enough energy to fight me as I dribbled it from the syringe into her mouth. I set up the IV fluids and hoped the hydration would rally her energy, to no avail. Sadly, I gathered the kids and called the vet.

I had little hope as we entered the office, and my fears were proven valid. The vet believes she had lymphoma, which mimics the symptoms of the other illnesses we had hoped to cure. We know that she was in some pain, wasting away and hiding from her girl, the one she loved best. It would not be a kindness to hold her to this life. She died peacefully in my daughter's arms, who at twelve bravely faced a decision that many adults have trouble making. We cried, we talked about her short but happy life, her quirky little scaredy-cat personality, and we said good-bye. My daughter now wears Nemo's collar as a bracelet, the little bells ringing to remind us of our little black shadow.

I have created a cat element to honor Nemo's memory, and a QP. Click the images to download form MediaFire, or right click and save.

Today, from Rainy Days & Mondays, a duck. Also, a cloud to carry your thoughts, a grassy hillside, a flower, and a frame to hold it all together.

Click HERE to download from 4shared, and HERE from MediaFire.

Rainy Days & Mondays, part two

Today, all the pieces on this page, except the pic of my darling crazy girl, of course. If you like the effect I did on the photo, you can play with it on the photo of your choice at this fabulous free site: http://tiltshiftmaker.com/ 

 I'm also saving the word art for another post-- you'll just have to come back and visit again :)

Click HERE to download from 4shared and HERE from MediaFire.

Rainy Days, part one

A lovely rainy Sunday, spent inside (mostly), not cold enough for a fire, but definitely blanket-worthy. I woke early this morning to drive my eldest daughter (the pastry chef) to work at a ridiculous hour and discovered an little problem with our smallest cat (belonging to my youngest daughter) and a piece of string... and, well, I won't get too graphic. We wound up at the emergency vet clinic at 7am, getting x-rays and IV fluids.

Poor little Nemo cat has had so many medical issues; she is already on predisone, special diet, and she has to spend her nights alone in our dressing area so the other cats don't eat her food. She weighs only 4 pounds, and we fight to keep the weight on her, as she tends to stop eating every time her little tummy gets upset, which happens a lot. She is a sweet little thing, but she always looks a bit terrified, as though we were going to eat her, rather than feed her and cuddle her. I suppose it comes from trauma in kitten-hood-- she was a rescue kitten that someone found in a fast food bag in a trash can. She had been sick before we adopted her, and we assumed that when we got her home she would out-grow that scaredy-cat thing. I suppose that when you are the size of a guinea pig in a house full of growing kids and big feet, a little caution is a good thing.

So, anyway, thank goodness we have a wonderful clinic just down the street, open 24 hours/day on weekends. (Why do pets always have their worst injuries/maladies on Sunday mornings, or the Friday before a holiday weekend?) The vet sent us home with the cat and instructions, and she promptly crawled to the back of the closet to sleep off her trauma. I was tempted to follow her, but instead I crawled onto the sofas for a little quiet time with my sweetie, my laptop, and the dogs.

While at the clinic, we spent some time playing with the "homeless row", a stack of cages filled with tiny abandoned kittens. Their stories were written on cards on the cage fronts ("found under a bush on 185th", "abandoned under house, last of litter", etc.) and their tiny little faces were heartbreaking. I am surprised that I don't have six more cats this afternoon than I did this morning-- not that I need any more cats-- but we managed to leave with only the cat we came with. Still, I can't help thinking of them and hoping that they find happy endings...

So, here I am on my sofa, with a blanket, hot tea, a snoring dog at my side, and my feet tucked under my sweetheart. Tomorrow is another Monday, complete with early rising, school, work, meetings in the evening, and all the other usual chaos... but today, I have this moment, with my family, my pets, and the peaceful sound of the rain.

For you, I have the first official installment of my kit, Rainy Days & Mondays. I have tried to build the mini-kits so that each of them stand alone, as a page kit, but can be combined with the other mini-kits in other ways. The first kit has two papers and five elements.

Click HERE to download from 4shared and HERE from MediaFire.

The best kind of rain, of course, is a cozy rain.  This is the kind the anonymous medieval poet makes me remember, the rain that falls on a day when you'd just as soon stay in bed a little longer, write letters or read a good book by the fire, take early tea with hot scones and jam and look out the streaked window with complacency. 

 ~Susan Allen Toth, England For All Seasons

New school year...

The beginning of the school year is a bittersweet time. The kids are a year closer to being grown-up and finished with summer vacations for good, they quickly become immersed in the small dramas of the school day and have less time for simply being kids, and the weather, if still sunny now, will soon start to worsen into the grey days and constant dreary drizzle that our region is known for. The mornings start earlier for everyone (the bus comes at 6:25am!), and the house is so empty and quiet during the day...

On the other hand, the kids take a step forward each year, and there is such joy in watching them tackle the increasingly difficult challenges of each new class. Dinner conversations are lively and filled with the day's huge (perspective, people) dramas. The weather has been staying glorious, and I have a kickin' new pair of boots that I bought during the spring sales-- so I can hardly wait for the rain. The early mornings mean I can hear the birds begin and watch the sun rise, I beat the crowd to the Starbucks, and I get to work so much earlier that I don't feel guilty skipping out to enjoy the afternoon sun. And the house... the house is so gorgeously empty and gloriously quiet after the kids leave in the morning... My sweetie and I took a day last week and worked from home to bask in the silence. So worth it.

As of this morning, it has finally begun to threaten real rain. I love staying in on rainy weekends, curled up by the window with a warm laptop quilt and a cup of coffee. As we live in the perpetually damp Northwest, we have more than our share of rainy days, and plenty of rain boots, rain coats, and umbrellas to go around. A couple of years ago, I put together a kit to honor these humble items, and the glorious fun that a kid can have in a puddle, when properly enjoyed. As I promised it to you, my lovely readers, and failed to post it in a timely manner, I sincerely hope you still enjoy it... two years late.

Rainy Days & Mondays -- Today, a  couple of QPs to whet your appetite, then a piece of the kit each day for two weeks, perhaps a little longer if I throw in the alphas and more QPs. I also made some flair (I do love flair.) and a couple of frame clusters.

Click HERE to download from MediaFire, and HERE from 4shared.

Comments are welcomed and appreciated deeply.

Pajama Day, part 6

Welcome to the final Pajama Day mini kit post. Today we have another teddy, a pillow, and a sleep mask to keep that bright sun out of your eyes; a couple of papers (oops with the coffee, again), a frame from  a recycled bag, a pin, and a torn tag. Click the preview to download from 4shared, or the link below from Mediafire. 

http://www.mediafire.com/?5ptgqgugyx6214w