Grandpa's Hiccup and the Diggy Tractor

   He has permanent bed head. (I've tried taming it.) He spends all day talking. Seriously. One time I asked him for a kiss, and his lips kept flapping as he 'kissed' me. Sometimes I daydream about quiet, peaceful, sunny meadows where not even the birds chirp. Or attempt to go through my day wearing earplugs. He eats all my flour while I'm making bread. Yep, you read that right. Flour. He can't get enough.
               But he's one of the cutest kids I know. :)

    

Tonsilolliths. Look it up. (if you dare)

   I found out last Friday how awful you can feel as a parent. We woke up early to bring Connor to the hospital for a tonsillectomy. I had a hard time sleeping the night before, and walked through the hospital doors with a sick feeling that I was probably the worst parent in the world for putting my 4 yr old through something so traumatic. ON PURPOSE. I had tried a few times to explain things to him, but I knew he didn't get it. Thankfully, the nurses who prepped him were wonderful, bringing him a whole box of toys and letting him play with some of their equipment. He was very excited and loved all the attention. They gave him 'silly juice' to calm him down enough so they could get him to sleep, then put in his IV. They wheeled his bed out of the room to the OR, and I nearly cried. All we were able to do was sit in that little hospital room and hope he was doing alright. Finally, 45 long minutes later, he was carried back into the room. And he was hysterical. He wouldn't stop crying. He fought against the nurses who were trying to get his heart monitor on his finger. He practically ripped off his hospital gown. There was dried blood under his nose and around his mouth. And he kept trying to say "I want to go home!" but it came out garbled. It was awful. I was an awful, horrible mom for putting him through that. The nurses weren't able to get his readings until he calmed down, so we got him in his jammies and carried him through the halls, telling him we were walking home. That's the only thing that could ease his mind, thinking we were leaving that terrible place and going home. He had a different nurse after the surgery. She was impatient and snappy. He was so distraught! While he was crying, she kept grabbing his shoulder and saying "Connor. Be quiet. Listen to me. Pay attention!" And then while she was explaining things to Rob so he could sign the discharge papers, she said "Ugh, I can't hear a THING with that crying!" And hauled Rob into the hallway by his arm. I could have slapped that woman. As soon as we carried him down to the van he was quiet. He slept peacefully all the way home, and Rob and I took turns rocking him for the rest of the day. The next day was filled with more rocking and cuddling. By Sunday he was talking now and then, even though his words came out thick and we could hear bubbling in his throat around his voice. Since then he's been more himself. He's gotten back to playing some, and back to his Jekyll/Hyde relationship with Max. He's living off of frozen yogurt, popcicles, and Capri Suns.
   And he still loves me.

Shameful

   Things got out of hand. I lost my senses and let things happen that never should have happened.

I'm talking of course about my pantry, hall closet, coat closet, cabinets... any storage space in my home. Each space was looking like it could fill an entire episode of Hoarders. Something had to be done before critters started making my closets their homes, or worse, I'd lose my kids and never be able to find them in the mess!!
    I took before and after pictures, but I'm almost too embarrassed to post the befores!!

Here goes. Remember this is a judgement-free zone!
     
      Pantry. I was starting to buy duplicates of everything, because I didn't know what I had! Nothing had a place. Things were hidden.

    Hall closet. This is where all the bad things were sent for punishment. It's a scary place.

    If we had something we didn't know what to do with, it was tossed in here. And obviously, tossed is literal.

Shocked?? I know. I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this kind of treatment on a weekend.

I bought a shelf with boxes from Ikea to make a new home for the kids' toys and books. After I got it all put together, I filled it up. Rob and I rearranged the boys' room and hauled the shelf in. We are going to pick up bunk beds soon, and I can concentrate on finally getting the boys a decent bedroom! They were so excited about the new shelf and the temporary bed set-up, they both spent the last couple hrs of their evening playing in their beds! And then they threw their books all over their room. *sigh* Always a battle. 

BUT! After rearranging, discarding, finding new homes, etc I got the closet organized! I also rearranged everything in my kitchen cupboards and organized, discarded, found new homes for the things in my pantry. I spent 7 hours doing all of this. Let me say that again. Seven. Seven hours. While it looks nice now, it doesn't LOOK like a seven hour job!! I'm a little disappointed in that. But hey, I can finally say my house is pretty organized! Next project will be my bedroom closet, my bathroom cabinets, and the linen closet. 

Right now, with everything cleaned up, I have SO MUCH SPACE! I can't believe how much! My cute red cabinet in the living room is nearly empty. The hall closet has a whole shelf AND the floor with nothing on it! My pantry! Ah! Amazing! 

I found this adjustable door rack at Lowe's. It freed up so much shelf and cupboard space!! Not to mention with all my spices visible, I might be able to find the ones I need and not buy extras.

Let's hope I can keep everything the way it is now. (Can you tell I'm rolling my eyes?) My biggest problem is going to be getting used to the rearranged kitchen cupboards. Everything is in a more logical place, but it's going to take a few "Where did I put that?" moments before I can feel comfortable with it!

The Farm

    We spent last weekend at the farm that my dad was born and raised on, and now owns. He and mom are building a new house. I should have taken pictures of the old house! Maybe next time we go out. It's a dark, dusty, drafty old house that Grandpa pieced together from the old Mormon church they were tearing down in town. It has no foundation, and Dad remembers how they dug out the dirt underneath the house, bucket by bucket, when he was a kid. Now that basement is a scary snake and spider and web ridden dungeon-like hole that I will never step foot into. But the living room has a wood stove that warms the house to about 120 degrees in the winter. I love the smell of it! It's so cozy to wake up in the morning to the smell and sound of wood burning. Grandpa used to get up early every morning, start the fire, make coffee, and sit in his chair reading his bible. Now when I get up I see my dad doing the same thing. Drinking his coffee, reading his bible, and enjoying a warm fire. Time changes everything, and nothing.
    One night before bed, while everything was dark, the kids were asleep, and the fire was crackling, mom and I snooped through the house. We were looking for some treasures. And we found a couple! Treasures to us, anyway. We found old pictures of Grandpa, some of his horses, some of my aunt's wedding... We also found some journals of Grandpa's. His daily notes. Just a sentence or two for each day. Most of them were about the weather, and feeding the horses. Every saturday he drove the nearly 100 miles to Durango, CO to see Grandma. She was paralyzed from a bout of cancer in her spine years ago. He loved her so much! One time when mom and dad were staying with him, he called her. When she answered, he just set the phone down on the table. He picked up his guitar and played and sang "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?" Afterwards, they talked just for a moment before he hung up. He then told mom, "I don't think I should have done that." When mom asked why, he told her that he made Grandma cry. She assured him it was tears of joy. :) In his journals, on the days that he visited Grandma, that little note was circled and doodled around. As if those were the most important entries, and he spent a little extra time thinking about it.
   Among the things we found was a book that caught my eye. It was old. But the first few pages were torn, so I couldn't find a date. It's called Thirty One Years On The Plains And In The Mountains. It's filled with the wild adventures of a man named Drannan. The names of a few chapters that had us rolling with laughter - "Phil the Cannibal", "A lively battle with Pah-Utes--Pinned to saddle with an arrow-- Some very good Indians" "Something worse than fighting Indians--Dance at Col. Elliott's--Conspicuous suit of buckskin" "A detective from Chicago--he goes home with an old Mormon's youngest wife and gets into trouble--The flight" We got a few extra laughs from the last chapter after I couldn't resist reading such scandal! Upon a little research, we found the stories are NOT true, simply exciting fabrications of the man's mind.... well, mostly from his wife's mind actually. It IS an old book however! It was printed in 1892. And by the condition of it, it was well loved.

                                         
   Mom and I spent the majority of the time in the old house, while Rob and Dad spent the majority of theirs working on the new one. I did think to take some pictures of the work in progress.

             Most of the siding is done. Once they move in, they'll tear down Grandpa's house (you can see a bit of it on the left) then build the garage in it's place.

                             
                                         The entry.

                         The living room with French doors that will lead to a deck in the back.

                      The kitchen, with the pantry off to the right. The entry is on the left of the picture, you can see the closet there as you walk in.

After meeting Sunday, Kacee came over for the afternoon. We hooked up a sled to the four wheeler and had a blast! This was a first for my kids. Sledding is fun, but being whipped around corners is even better! This is the same four wheeler that whipped me around on sleds when I was young. I haven't done this since then, and my body made sure to remind me of that the next day!! But I can't wait til the next trip out so I can jump on the sled again! (Neither can the boys!)

Kacee and Max

                             

                Connor and I bit it.

    Dad gleefully pointing out another wipeout.

                           

                              Mom and Maggie watching the show from Grandpa's house.

                                       

The second we walked into our own house in Salt Lake, the boys both burst into tears. They wanted to go back to the farm!! They did NOT want to come home! Yesterday after I picked Connor up from school we pulled into the garage. He said, "Mom, we aren't home." I said "What do you mean? This is home!"
"No. This isn't the old house. The old house is our home. We need to go to the farm."

 Aw. :( Guess we need to get back home soon.