I've had some nerve racking moments in my life. High fever convulsions with Addison and that time I almost crashed the City truck into a gas pump, for example. But hands down, literally, tonight was the scariest moment of my life.
We had put the kids to bed and been in and out of their room several times already, answering multiple requests for chapstick (it is dry here, but I think Charlotte is addicted), when we heard Addison start to yell, "MOM! MOM!" And not just in his whiny, "the girls are crying and keeping me awake," voice, but the full on panic stricken scream that he usually reserves for being left all alone in the house and not knowing where I am. So I knew it was a serious situation (at least in his eyes) and started running to his room. I was thinking we probably shut the door all the way instead of leaving it open a crack, or he got his finger smashed or something like that.
It wasn't until I was actually pushing open his door that he screamed, "Mommy! I fell out my window!" And I looked at his bed and only saw his feet poking through the blinds.
When I got to the window, he was, no joke, hanging by his toes out of our second floor apartment window. I grabbed his ankles to keep him from falling and with herculean strength, Keith yanked him back inside and threw him onto the bed. At which point Addison and I both hugged each other and started sobbing hysterically.
After fixing the screen, bolting the window shut and vowing never again to put a bed next to a window, we offered a very tearful prayer of gratitude to our Heavenly Father that our little boy was safe. We pleaded with Heavenly Father that He would always watch out for Addison and not just protect him physically, but spiritually as well. And that we, as parents, would always be in tune to the Spirit that we might assist him in, or better yet, keep him from, any future trouble.
As I laid next to Addison until he was finally able to sleep, all of the dozens of possible outcomes to this scenario ran through my mind. Not a single one of them was good. I can't even imagine the agony of losing my child and I am so grateful that by some miracle his feet caught on the window ledge and that he had the strength to hold on until we arrived. I am so grateful that Keith and I ran as fast as we could and didn't let him "cry it out" like we do so many other times when we are tired of answering millions of bedtime requests. And mostly I am so grateful for a Heavenly Father that loves me and my children and watches over and protects us.
14 October 2010
22 August 2010
Apartment Living in Phoenix
I once read a parenting article that suggested giving your kids five compliments for every correction. This way they would grow up with a healthy sense of self-worth and a stronger, more positive relationship with you, the parent. Thankfully, the same rules do not apply to my relationship with apartment living in Phoenix. It has been a pretty rough transition for me. I have cried myself to sleep almost every night this week, overcome with feelings of homesickness and despair. But I'm in a better place now (maybe due to the homemade ice cream shared with Tucson friends also living in our complex?) and I think I can try to be fair and at least come up with a few positive things to say in addition to the negative comments I was prepared to rant about. So without further ado...
How I really feel about THE MOVE:
1- Phoenix is DRY! Even coming from Tucson I feel this way. We are ten times thirstier and to make matters worse, the water here tastes like D-I-R-T! Thus, my poor children are suffering from constipation and regular bloody noses. We just might have to fork out some money and jump on the Crystal Light train.
2- The kitchen is the size of a walnut. Keith says it is really an issue of layout, not size, but either way it is awkward. The refrigerator door can't open all the way, due to a wall, and thus you cannot access the bottom drawer of the fridge. And when the dishwasher is open, it takes up all of the space in front of the sink so that doing the dishes is a rather frustrating exercise. There are tons of cabinets squished into the tiny room, but it doesn't make up for the lack of a pantry and our food is spilling out all over the counter, making dinner prep equally frustrating.
3- The "walk-in closet" is hardly accessible after the addition of clothing and with room for only one of our dressers, we are having to really pare down to the essentials. Which could be a good thing I guess. But I also find it irritating to have half of our stuff in storage. I guess I didn't pack well enough, because some of the boxes that ended up in the apartment have things we don't really need, and stuff I want is now buried in the depths of the storage unit.
4- The lap pool that was one of the selling features for this complex is only one lane and has steps at both ends making flip turns impossible. But it is right behind our apartment and so the kids and I visit it nearly every morning.
5- We are the completely wrong demographic for this place. It seems like everyone here is single, a smoker, and has a small dog. We keep opposite hours, walk through plumes of smoke whenever we leave the house, and scream at the sight of animals. I don't think our neighbors like us, but they haven't started banging on the walls yet.
6- We can hear everybody's business. The second night we were here, the couple upstairs had a knock-down, drag-out super big fight and I could hear every word. Thankfully my kids had fallen into such an exhausted sleep that they didn't hear a thing or they could have picked up a whole new vocabulary. This makes me feel really guilty every time my kids wake up at 5:30 am running and screaming, or whenever I do a load of laundry at 7am, but I guess we'll all get used to each other eventually.
7- Did you catch that we have a washer and dryer in our apartment? That makes me SO happy. Scrounging for quarters and lugging loads laundry down the stairs with three kids would have just about done me in, so I am so thankful for this. It almost makes up for the white wall-to-wall carpet everywhere in the apartment. Almost.
8- Our ward is fantastic. Everyone has been super friendly and I love to go on Sundays. And the best part is that my kids love it too. We didn't hear a single whimper from Addison when we dropped him off the first week and those of you in Central Ward know that is HUGE!
9- We are closer to the temple. We went on Saturday morning and we still had time to do stuff the rest of the day. It was really nice to just go without worrying about all the things we should be doing around the house (I guess it helps that we don't really have "house projects" or yard work anymore either).
10- The preschool is AWESOME! There are only three kids in Addison's class so he gets a lot of attention and has a ton of fun reading, painting, and playing house with the girls. This is probably the most validating part about moving here. Seeing him so excited to go and learn is wonderful. And again, no screaming. I was SO happy to not be the parent of the clinging, panicking kid that first day of school. I was even offering advice and telling the other mom it would be okay and her daughter wouldn't die without her! The best feeling in the world! The afternoon schedule and the fact that the school is a 25 minute drive away is messing with our nap time routine and creating two terribly cranking little girls, but I'm trying to over look that because I love the preschool so much.
But the best part of THE MOVE is that we get to see Keith every single day. Even though he is so busy with work and usually comes home exhausted it is great to get a hug when I need it and to watch him wrestle with the kids while I'm fixing dinner and to have some help with the every day things I was doing myself all summer. I am so grateful not to be a single mom anymore.
All in all, I'm glad the first week is under our belt. Now I believe that we can make this work.
PS- If any of you read the Lundstrom's Blog, this post really makes me look like a whiner because we're in the same apartment complex. But it's how I feel so while I won't change it, I will work on adjusting my attitude :)
How I really feel about THE MOVE:
1- Phoenix is DRY! Even coming from Tucson I feel this way. We are ten times thirstier and to make matters worse, the water here tastes like D-I-R-T! Thus, my poor children are suffering from constipation and regular bloody noses. We just might have to fork out some money and jump on the Crystal Light train.
2- The kitchen is the size of a walnut. Keith says it is really an issue of layout, not size, but either way it is awkward. The refrigerator door can't open all the way, due to a wall, and thus you cannot access the bottom drawer of the fridge. And when the dishwasher is open, it takes up all of the space in front of the sink so that doing the dishes is a rather frustrating exercise. There are tons of cabinets squished into the tiny room, but it doesn't make up for the lack of a pantry and our food is spilling out all over the counter, making dinner prep equally frustrating.
3- The "walk-in closet" is hardly accessible after the addition of clothing and with room for only one of our dressers, we are having to really pare down to the essentials. Which could be a good thing I guess. But I also find it irritating to have half of our stuff in storage. I guess I didn't pack well enough, because some of the boxes that ended up in the apartment have things we don't really need, and stuff I want is now buried in the depths of the storage unit.4- The lap pool that was one of the selling features for this complex is only one lane and has steps at both ends making flip turns impossible. But it is right behind our apartment and so the kids and I visit it nearly every morning.
5- We are the completely wrong demographic for this place. It seems like everyone here is single, a smoker, and has a small dog. We keep opposite hours, walk through plumes of smoke whenever we leave the house, and scream at the sight of animals. I don't think our neighbors like us, but they haven't started banging on the walls yet.
6- We can hear everybody's business. The second night we were here, the couple upstairs had a knock-down, drag-out super big fight and I could hear every word. Thankfully my kids had fallen into such an exhausted sleep that they didn't hear a thing or they could have picked up a whole new vocabulary. This makes me feel really guilty every time my kids wake up at 5:30 am running and screaming, or whenever I do a load of laundry at 7am, but I guess we'll all get used to each other eventually.
7- Did you catch that we have a washer and dryer in our apartment? That makes me SO happy. Scrounging for quarters and lugging loads laundry down the stairs with three kids would have just about done me in, so I am so thankful for this. It almost makes up for the white wall-to-wall carpet everywhere in the apartment. Almost.
8- Our ward is fantastic. Everyone has been super friendly and I love to go on Sundays. And the best part is that my kids love it too. We didn't hear a single whimper from Addison when we dropped him off the first week and those of you in Central Ward know that is HUGE!
9- We are closer to the temple. We went on Saturday morning and we still had time to do stuff the rest of the day. It was really nice to just go without worrying about all the things we should be doing around the house (I guess it helps that we don't really have "house projects" or yard work anymore either).
10- The preschool is AWESOME! There are only three kids in Addison's class so he gets a lot of attention and has a ton of fun reading, painting, and playing house with the girls. This is probably the most validating part about moving here. Seeing him so excited to go and learn is wonderful. And again, no screaming. I was SO happy to not be the parent of the clinging, panicking kid that first day of school. I was even offering advice and telling the other mom it would be okay and her daughter wouldn't die without her! The best feeling in the world! The afternoon schedule and the fact that the school is a 25 minute drive away is messing with our nap time routine and creating two terribly cranking little girls, but I'm trying to over look that because I love the preschool so much.
But the best part of THE MOVE is that we get to see Keith every single day. Even though he is so busy with work and usually comes home exhausted it is great to get a hug when I need it and to watch him wrestle with the kids while I'm fixing dinner and to have some help with the every day things I was doing myself all summer. I am so grateful not to be a single mom anymore.
All in all, I'm glad the first week is under our belt. Now I believe that we can make this work.
PS- If any of you read the Lundstrom's Blog, this post really makes me look like a whiner because we're in the same apartment complex. But it's how I feel so while I won't change it, I will work on adjusting my attitude :)
What I Did This Summer
End of the summer masterpiece with my favorite flower,"The Shaggy Mum."
This was a summer of what I so fondly like to call "self-imposed house arrest." With Keith in Phoenix with our car, the kids and I spent most of our time hanging out at home. We did make it across the street to the public library and pool occasionally, but a lot of the time it was just too hot to make the little red wagon trek and so we drove each other nuts inside.
To break up the monotony and save my sanity, my sisters-in-law invited me to take a cake decorating class during the month of July. It was nice to have a couple of hours kid free and think about something besides dinner and baths. And of course the best part was coming home and sharing my creations with my wonderful babysitter and kids.
Getting the perfect consistency of frosting
Our final cakes(Can you tell we shared frosting by the unanimous color theme?)
"No, Addison. Not shaggy bum, shaggy MUM!""No, no, no, Addison. Not shaggy man, shaggy MUM!"
Who cares what they're called! They were yummy!14 June 2010
Flip-Flop
Question: How do you and your spouse come to agreements on important decisions when you each have polar opposite opinions?
Keith and I are flip-floppers. He will have one opinion, I another. We talk it over, get stubbornly entrenched in our ideas, and end the conversation more frustrated than we started. A few days, weeks, or months later, whenever we happen to discuss it again, he has finally come round to my way of thinking, and I have decided he was right all along. It is an endless cycle.
When our first child was born, we couldn't agree on a name. Keith liked this one best, and I liked that one. The next month Keith liked my name and I liked his better. We finally made a bet to settle it. If the baby was born with a head full of hair like the Perry family, we would choose Keith's name. If the baby was bald like the Carpenter kids, my name would be picked.
Keith won!
But figuring out what to do with our house is a completely different story. We can't just gamble that decision away. When we first accepted the job transfer to Phoenix, Keith was adamant about renting the house out, saying we wouldn't be able to get our money's worth in this economy. After talking to some friends in a similar situation, I thought we should at least try to put the house on the market, just to see what would happen. Best case scenario, we sell the house and don't have to worry about it anymore; worst case scenario, we don't sell the house and then rent it out like Keith wanted.
Fast forward three and a half months. We haven't sold the house, prices are dropping uncomfortably low, Keith has already started his job in Phoenix, crashing at my grandmother's and coming home on weekends, and I am here in Tucson trying to hold down the fort with three kids and no car. Now I am thinking as soon as our real estate contract is up let's get renters in here and Keith wants to keep lowering the price and just get rid of the house already. ARG! Seriously aggravating!
So tell me, how do you and your spouse ever come to any agreements?!
Keith and I are flip-floppers. He will have one opinion, I another. We talk it over, get stubbornly entrenched in our ideas, and end the conversation more frustrated than we started. A few days, weeks, or months later, whenever we happen to discuss it again, he has finally come round to my way of thinking, and I have decided he was right all along. It is an endless cycle.
When our first child was born, we couldn't agree on a name. Keith liked this one best, and I liked that one. The next month Keith liked my name and I liked his better. We finally made a bet to settle it. If the baby was born with a head full of hair like the Perry family, we would choose Keith's name. If the baby was bald like the Carpenter kids, my name would be picked.
Keith won!But figuring out what to do with our house is a completely different story. We can't just gamble that decision away. When we first accepted the job transfer to Phoenix, Keith was adamant about renting the house out, saying we wouldn't be able to get our money's worth in this economy. After talking to some friends in a similar situation, I thought we should at least try to put the house on the market, just to see what would happen. Best case scenario, we sell the house and don't have to worry about it anymore; worst case scenario, we don't sell the house and then rent it out like Keith wanted.
Fast forward three and a half months. We haven't sold the house, prices are dropping uncomfortably low, Keith has already started his job in Phoenix, crashing at my grandmother's and coming home on weekends, and I am here in Tucson trying to hold down the fort with three kids and no car. Now I am thinking as soon as our real estate contract is up let's get renters in here and Keith wants to keep lowering the price and just get rid of the house already. ARG! Seriously aggravating!
So tell me, how do you and your spouse ever come to any agreements?!
09 May 2010
29 March 2010
The Afternoon Caper of the Pansy Thief
Saturday afternoon I found myself struggling to get my two girls down for naps. My husband was on an overnight Scout camp out and I was starting to lose it after so many hours alone in my house with three kids and no car. So I let Charlotte scream and cry in her bed while I tried to rock Jocelyn to sleep in the front room. I had almost drifted off myself when I heard a car door slam nearby. Fearing that some unannounced buyers were about to ring my doorbell and ask to look around, I shot a quick glance through the slats of the vertical blinds.
A white minivan was idling on the curb. A man ran distractedly up the sidewalk towards my house, bent down to retrieve something and hurried back to the car.
"That's strange," I thought, still squinting in the direction of the road. "I wonder if he lost something out of his window? But there's not really a strong wind today and he can't have been going fast enough in our cul de sac for something to blow all the way up to the house. Maybe he was after one of those stray dogs that is always running around the neighborhood? But I didn't hear any barking. Perhaps he was sent by the HOA to pull our weeds? We did get a notice this week, but the kids and I spent an hour out there just this morning. There shouldn't have been anything left for him to pull. Hmmm...."
The more I thought, the more suspicious I grew. Now that Jocelyn was finally asleep, I got up from the rocking chair to have a closer look. Nothing out of the ordinary. He hadn't even made it all the way to the front door to leave a pamphlet or flier.
"Oh well," I thought. "I guess I'll never know."
So imagine my surprise when I walked my brother out to his car this afternoon, and noticed that two of my potted pansies were missing! Seriously?!?! Some stranger ran all the way up to my house to steal my flowers? I don't know what is more irritating: to know that some jerk would "rob" me in broad daylight or to know that I watched it happen and didn't do anything about it.
And even though I didn't actually buy the pots or the flowers myself (they were a gift from my mother) and thus it is not a huge monetary loss; and even though it's getting too hot for pansies anyway (they are more of a cold weather plant - my mom has already ripped hers out and replaced them with a summer specimen); and even though we are moving in a few weeks and now I'll have two less pots to load up in the truck (so I should probably be thanking the guy for doing me a favor); I'm still pretty irked. Wouldn't you be?
A white minivan was idling on the curb. A man ran distractedly up the sidewalk towards my house, bent down to retrieve something and hurried back to the car.
"That's strange," I thought, still squinting in the direction of the road. "I wonder if he lost something out of his window? But there's not really a strong wind today and he can't have been going fast enough in our cul de sac for something to blow all the way up to the house. Maybe he was after one of those stray dogs that is always running around the neighborhood? But I didn't hear any barking. Perhaps he was sent by the HOA to pull our weeds? We did get a notice this week, but the kids and I spent an hour out there just this morning. There shouldn't have been anything left for him to pull. Hmmm...."
The more I thought, the more suspicious I grew. Now that Jocelyn was finally asleep, I got up from the rocking chair to have a closer look. Nothing out of the ordinary. He hadn't even made it all the way to the front door to leave a pamphlet or flier.
"Oh well," I thought. "I guess I'll never know."
So imagine my surprise when I walked my brother out to his car this afternoon, and noticed that two of my potted pansies were missing! Seriously?!?! Some stranger ran all the way up to my house to steal my flowers? I don't know what is more irritating: to know that some jerk would "rob" me in broad daylight or to know that I watched it happen and didn't do anything about it.
And even though I didn't actually buy the pots or the flowers myself (they were a gift from my mother) and thus it is not a huge monetary loss; and even though it's getting too hot for pansies anyway (they are more of a cold weather plant - my mom has already ripped hers out and replaced them with a summer specimen); and even though we are moving in a few weeks and now I'll have two less pots to load up in the truck (so I should probably be thanking the guy for doing me a favor); I'm still pretty irked. Wouldn't you be?
24 February 2010
Time to Grow Up
It is an unsettling feeling to be homesick before you've even gone anywhere, but that is the unique predicament I find myself in at the moment. You see, we're moving. Not just to a bigger house or a nicer side of town, but to a completely different city. And while plenty of you out there have done this before and are probably wondering what the big deal is, this will be my very first time, ever. (Okay, okay, so I did live away from home during college, but that doesn't really count.)
I've lived in this beautiful town of mine for my entire life. It is all I know, and I feel like I know it pretty well. I know the streets inside and out, I know the restaurants and grocery stores, I know which schools are highly performing and the safe neighborhoods to live in, I even know the names of the plants and animals that are native to our surroundings. But most of all, I know the people. My parents, in-laws, and siblings all live here. I know the lifeguards and librarians. No matter which Mormon congregation I attend, there is a familiar face. And while this has gotten me into trouble a time or two ("You're musical Maryann's daughter? You must be a brilliant piano player!") I like it this way.
I love bumping into elementary school friends at the mall, love seeing old swimming buddies at my husband's Christmas parties, love being saved by my box loading brother when my debit card doesn't work at COSTCO, love calling my siblings at a moment's notice to watch my kids while I go to the doctor, pool or movie, love noisy family dinners nearly every Sunday, love lugging a baby up 36 flights of stairs with my mother each Thursday because we think it's good exercise, love all the help we get with our house and all the stuff that we exchange, love, love, love everything about this place.
When I made my New Year's Resolutions to make friends outside of my family and cut clutter to find a place for everything, moving was not what I had in mind. But I suppose it's time to grow up. Now that I'm nearly thirty (well, in a few years anyway) it's time to cut the cord and start my own life. Time to buy my own stuff instead of borrowing it, time to fork out money for a real babysitter instead of using and abusing my family, time to try something new. It's scares the living daylights out of me, but I know you can't grow being complacent and that's probably what I've become. So here's to new experiences, new surroundings and new challenges. May I be a better person because of it.
I've lived in this beautiful town of mine for my entire life. It is all I know, and I feel like I know it pretty well. I know the streets inside and out, I know the restaurants and grocery stores, I know which schools are highly performing and the safe neighborhoods to live in, I even know the names of the plants and animals that are native to our surroundings. But most of all, I know the people. My parents, in-laws, and siblings all live here. I know the lifeguards and librarians. No matter which Mormon congregation I attend, there is a familiar face. And while this has gotten me into trouble a time or two ("You're musical Maryann's daughter? You must be a brilliant piano player!") I like it this way.
I love bumping into elementary school friends at the mall, love seeing old swimming buddies at my husband's Christmas parties, love being saved by my box loading brother when my debit card doesn't work at COSTCO, love calling my siblings at a moment's notice to watch my kids while I go to the doctor, pool or movie, love noisy family dinners nearly every Sunday, love lugging a baby up 36 flights of stairs with my mother each Thursday because we think it's good exercise, love all the help we get with our house and all the stuff that we exchange, love, love, love everything about this place.
When I made my New Year's Resolutions to make friends outside of my family and cut clutter to find a place for everything, moving was not what I had in mind. But I suppose it's time to grow up. Now that I'm nearly thirty (well, in a few years anyway) it's time to cut the cord and start my own life. Time to buy my own stuff instead of borrowing it, time to fork out money for a real babysitter instead of using and abusing my family, time to try something new. It's scares the living daylights out of me, but I know you can't grow being complacent and that's probably what I've become. So here's to new experiences, new surroundings and new challenges. May I be a better person because of it.
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