Mad Momma

I am mad.  Really mad. So mad I could cry. In fact, maybe I will.

Wednesday I came home from school and when I had to leave again my keys were missing. The keys I religiously put on the hook by the door. Every time. Without fail.

 Immediately the red flag goes up for us because we have problems with our children and keys. I have two car keys with microchips and two keyless entry devices on that ring, in addition to the keys to the office, home, and the gate to the backyard. They will cost at least $300 to replace.

What is it about your most important things that children have a kind of sixth sense to destroy, hide, or otherwise contaminate beyond salvage? (i.e.: toilet bowl glowing blue with my cell phone)

Places we have found our keys:

toy boxes

lawns

buried in the sand box

in our neighbor's yard hanging from a tree

in 5 inches of water at the bottom of a sprinkler box

in the doors of random stranger's cars

crammed into the cavity of a stuffed animal

innumerable other tiny, obscure and random places-- you get the picture

The point is somehow through the grace and mercy of a higher power we have always been able to find them, even if there was damage to our keyless entry devices. We've had to replace one already.

I sweet-talk John. He insists he doesn't know what I'm talking about. He is very believable. I resort to begging. Threatening. His mouth is like a airtight vault. I seriously begin to wonder if I am jumping to conclusions, though I know in my gut this kid is holding out.

So today I am done. I mow the lawns looking for them. I have carefully walked them at night with a flashlight to see if there is any glimmer shining back at me from the darkness. I have dug the sandbox down to the dirt. I have checked behind the washer, the freezer, ransacked the garage, dug through bushes and alerted the neighbors.

Then it comes to me. John has been unceasingly pleading with me for some toy I didn't even knew existed. Apparently one of our neighbors has one and John is desperate for it. I have my ammo.

"John, if you find momma's keys I will buy you the yellow transformer guy."

"OK!! I'll show you!"

Without a moment's hesitation he leads me directly out to the garage and to the side of the house. 

"I put it in the trash--this one." He even knows exactly which of the two trashes he put them in. Because I have mowed the lawns and thus the reeking trash is filled with grass clippings glazed with dog crap I bring myself to make the futile motions to remove the pile of composting grass/garbage from the full trash to the empty one, all the while knowing full well they are already gone. After shoveling out what I can I enlist (force)  Nathaniel to help me dump it over into the other empty trash with straining ears yearning  to hear the jingle of the hopelessly lost phantom keys.

The keys went missing Wednesday.

The trash went out on Thursday. 

Today is Saturday.

John is not getting a yellow transformer guy.

My son has a blog

Ok--so this is weird.

Nathaniel has a blog now. (On top of his my space and facebook and whatever else he has that he thinks I don't know about.)

Side note on Nathaniel-- he has issues involving giant homemade swords, capes and other handmade armor. I have warned him that he is stamping "dork" on his forehead but he pays me no heed, and so far his neighborhood friends are buying into it. The other day I saw a kid ride by my window on his bike carrying a giant homemade sword.

So apparently they really are buying into it.

For now.

I like to quilt

 It is fun to look back and remember and I need to take pictures of my quilts more often. Most were given away long ago and there are no pics. Here are some of the ones I've done this year.

John's batman quilt. My boys go through a major super-hero phase and for John it was Batman/Spiderman this year. My friend Gaye gave me the backing for this one.

I'm into pinwheels these days. This one was for a TraCee Woods--a friend in my ward whose daughter was getting baptized (thus red/white theme). Friends and family at her baptism signed inside the white sections. We made it in one night.

Just threw this one of John in because his hair was strugglin' bad and I finally got around to cutting it--handsome guy! He starts preschool today and is totally beside himself with impatience.

This was for Liza Barnes (in my ward). I made it last month for her new little premie baby. Her little girl is 2 months old and mine don't even come out as small as she is now! So for now Liza can use it because the baby can just about fit in one of the squares and might drown. 

This one was for Lorainne Neilson in my ward. She is our primary president and I just love her. She is the cutest thing and was never married until a couple of years ago (she is in her late 30's I think). Her current husband was our bishop a while back and he has several grown children. They are so cute and now have this eat-um-up-adorable-baby below who loves the minky I used on the back of her blanket. She is totally underfed as you can see:)

Shepherd and sheep quilt. The colors were to be Christmas but I made it for year round so chose my own. Note my favorite sheep, the black one.

Machine quilting this one for Sarah right now. Turning out way cute as you can see. I had the material for this for like six months and kept fretting and buying more. I was afraid to start it--never done a Buggy Barn before and instructions were confusing. But easier than I thought and I whipped the top out in two nights.

Often people ask me how I find the time. As my fellow-quilters would wonder, how can you not?

pouting

Today I feel sad. Or maybe lonely. Or maybe just old.

Today I sat among shiny straight forks. All the dumb blondes in my classes were clearly faking and are actually really smart.

Don't get me wrong, I have zero jealousy for the time these young people are in their lives. I am grateful beyond words to be done with that season of life. I've had my kids. I am done with diapers and nobody wails when they see my bosoms because they are hungry. Peter says the next time he holds a screaming baby it will be his grandchild and he can give it back. 

I don't have to date (hallelujah!!). I never have to plan my wedding again, or meet my in-laws-to-be or go through the super-fun first year of marriage. I get to live with people I want to (most of the time) and I'm not starving through school. Instead of living in a basement with mold growing on the walls I get to live in a nice house. My husband is done with college. Not to mention that I have a car and my own washer and dryer.

But I don't know anyone and everyone else seems to. I wish I could take one of my kids with me to talk to because they are my present friends. I think I'm naked without them.

I know you are thinking that it is going to be fine and bla bla bla. I know that too and I am still thrilled to be in school. Only now is now and for today I feel like the bent fork.

School report

Just as an update I started school yesterday. I can now report back that I am the oldest person in all my classes, however I am not the biggest. I couldn't help but notice kids these days are really letting themselves go, surprisingly making this old mom-o-four look smokin' in comparison to a lot of teenage girls. (ok, well, maybe in a more mature kind of way.) Very different to when I was last in school.

ANYWAY, I got out of my first class and had to hold back tears. I can't believe this day has finally come...I get to go back to college.

In summary, I AM LOVING IT.

College Crisis

So tomorrow I start school. 

"Mrs. Mitchell can you volunteer Wednesday's in Rebecca's class?"

"No, I'm in school on Wednesdays-- gonna have to be Fridays."

"Can we visit teach you on Monday morning?"

"Sorry, I'll be in school then."

I've been telling people I'm going back to school since March. But somehow I still haven't entirely prepared myself. Even when we went to get my books, I felt excited, but it was still a whole 3 days away. Three days is forever! I don't need to worry! I have all the time in the world!

Except that now it's tomorrow. My parking stickers came in the mail today. I drove all the way to Orem to look for a bag at Target to carry my books. (This bag is too bulky, this bag is too bright, this bag is too trendy...I ended up with no bag.) I have nothing to wear. I can't remember how to spell anything anymore. Pregnancy fried my brains. Mine will be the only mini-van in the parking lot with soccer treats and baby wipes. I am completely petrified.

No, seriously,  I cannot remember the last time I was so afraid. 

Peter was a very good, wonderful, supportive (stroke, stroke, nice Peter) husband and took me to get my books because I feel like the oldest person on campus. The only older people in the bookstore were parents buying books for their kids. I can never navigate around the super-sized campus. At Women's Conference I bring friends specially chosen for their navigation skills.

I am the oldest mom at the college and the youngest mom at the junior high. Peter threw in a subtle plug and said if I lost just another 10 lbs. I'd fit in better.

Maybe if I just sit in a corner in the back no one will notice me, but if anyone needs a band-aid, I'm there.

The Brave Mom

Last night Nathaniel came home at 11:30 after watching a movie with friends and when he came up to the house he saw this 2-inch long beetle. He covered it with a bucket so the rest of us could see it this morning. According to him this took great effort on account of his terrible fear and disgust.

So this morning when we did the great unveiling he was horrified to see that his mother actually touched it. (Well, I wanted to see what it would do.) It flailed its legs and made this weird rattling noise and I screamed. So then I had to do it again of course, and screamed again--and again. Then I remembered that we have neighbors, so I stopped screaming and just kept touching it to get that cool reaction. I put it in a jar so the kids can show all their friends today before we let it go. (Relax, it wasn't as if I was planning to keep it as beetle pet or something.)

Nathaniel thinks I am not a normal mother. Normal mothers don't tease their kid's friends. They don't laugh when they drew an "X" on your leg. They don't make up songs about how happy they are to have their kids back in school. Normal mothers don't threaten that if your behavior doesn't change and quick, they are going into your classroom wearing a bathing suit and sing. They don't laugh at their own jokes or when you are mad, or ask you random "what if..." questions.

The other day at Rebecca's soccer practice she spotted a snake and I caught it. Then I held it until John ran over and played with it. The other moms were stupified. "You're a brave mom!" 

Ok, well if it had stripes I wouldn't have done that. I never can remember that yellow/red kill the fellow rhyme to tell the non-poisonous from the harmless. But this was just a little gopher snake or something. I don't like rats (at all) and I detest cockroaches. If a mouse ever ran across the floor I might scream and jump up on the couch.

Once I was in a pet store buying a tarantula as a surprise for Nathaniel. Some big biker dudes were amazed to see me holding it. I said, "Well, you are holding a rat and I wouldn't even come close to that thing." 

Everybody has their thing, I guess. Anyone who saw how I grew up knows we are not a family generally afraid of bugs, snakes or spiders. But we all hate rats and cockroaches.

Who needs a normal mom anyway?