Zzzzzzzzz.....

The kids love to fall asleep in our bed while watching movies.

It doesn't look comfortable to me at all. Too many monkeys sleeping in the bed.

I think their secret plan is to get Daddy to carry them to their beds.

Who didn't love that when they were a kid?

I remember falling asleep in the car and having my dad carry me in to my bed.

Until we got too big I guess, because I remember a few times waking up the next morning

in the car with a sibling's foot in my face and a sore neck.

Before I had kids I slept like a log. I would hit the pillow and be out in about 4 minutes. I was a deep sleeper...like wake up in the morning in the same spot with drool on the pillow deep sleeper.

Now, I sleep like a baby.

I always roll my eyes when people say this like it's a good thing. Really? you think it's fun to wake up every two or three hours during the night? Why do you think babies take 4 naps during the day? I can't take four naps during the day.

I hate interrupted sleep.

With the girls we had a queen bed and so we could feel them getting into bed with us during the night. I was one of those mean moms that told them to get a blanket and pillow and camp out on the floor. Interrupted sleep.

Now that we have the King bed the boys have perfected their Ninja skills and can sneak in without us even noticing. Usually around 3:30 a.m. I start having dreams about drowning and not being able to breath or kick my legs to get to the surface. That's when I wake up to the 3 year old laying across my chest with his hand over my mouth and the 6 year old laying across both legs. I swear there is some gravitational pull between mother's and children because it's always me they insist on lying right next to...never Greg.

Sometimes I get up and take them back into their beds but mostly I just push them off and turn over. Interrupted sleep.

Now I'm trying to drag my tired carcass out of bed even earlier to exercise with Greg in the morning. So yeah, that's workin' out well. Basically, I turn into 'Momzilla' by about 3:00.

I used to make fun of my dad because he could fall asleep anywhere, anytime. We thought it was the weirdest thing. I mean, how can you fall asleep sitting up?.....uhm...I woke up to a honk the other day. Yeah, I fell asleep waiting at the red light. Didn't even remember closing my eyes. I fell asleep in church today, (sorry Bishop) sitting up, holding Tyson in my lap.

I am fully aware and KNOW that I will miss this time with little ones sneaking into my bed to be near to me. I know waking up to a foot in my face is much easier than waiting up for a teenage daughter to come home from a date. I promise, I fully appreciate the fact that they are growing and changing before my eyes and every day is precious with them.

I would just love a nap! A really good, long, uninterrupted nap...or four. Hey! If I sleep like a baby I should be able to nap like one.

Happy Daylight Savings...whatever. Makes as much sense to me as Justin Beiber's baggy pants.

Soooo....yeah.

So ya know when you get so behind on something and ya keep thinking, "I'm gonna get caught up, I am". And then more and more time passes and the catch up list starts to get longer and longer and no matter how hard you try or how great your intentions are..it just doesn't seem to make a difference. And then you are so far behind that you just have to give up on the catch up and start fresh from where you're at. Anyone? Anyone?

Well, that's where I'm at. I've had so many thoughts and such great things to post about from our summer and fall and it all just got away from me. So we're just starting fresh and there may be some random 'catch up' posts thrown in there. So if you get a post about Lake Powell or

Jack-o-lanterns thrown in there, just skip it. or whatever.

My mom could beat up your mom!

So a few days ago I witnessed some fierce mama love and protection.

Every Spring we spot some ducks roaming our neighborhood.

They waddle up and down the street like some sort of springtime street gang.

This year it's a mama duck and her twelve (yeah, 12) ducklings.

A few yards down from our house is a storm drain.

You can probably guess what happened next.

I came out to see a very anxious mama duck squaking her little feathers off.

She was standing over the storm drain with one little duckling right by her side.

As we looked down into the drain, we counted the other eleven very dazed babies.

Mama duck was beside herself. Although she didn't know how to help her little ones,

she never left them.

and she never stopped quacking to those ducklings.

Even as more people gathered around, she stayed unusually close to the drain.

My strong neighbors, Rich, Shane and Paul were able to use a crobar and a metal hook to get the storm drain raised and open.

Rich jumped down into the drain and gathered the ducklings up in a net.

All eleven babies were safely returned to a mama ready to get her little brood outa there.

Now I know she's a duck but I couldn't help thinking that she must have been relieved. Ducks have feelings right? I mean, she didn't just say, "hey, I've still got one more, I'll just leave these other one's here in this hole in the ground." She stuck around until they were all safe.

And she was also willing to accept help from others.

She waddled off with all of her twelve waddling behind her.

They were out of danger.
Until she rounded the corner and saw HIM staring at her.

No sooner had she managed to get the littles out of danger than an

even bigger threat shows up.
She had barely had time to recover before she was back in defense mode.

But again, she didn't run away. Instead, she turned to that cat and started giving it the what for. She wasn't about to let those ducklings become a feline feast.

She quacked and quacked until the cat finally turned tail and skedaddled.

Made me realize how important it is to be vigilant as a mother.

It's a 24/7 job that we never take a break from.

We would never leave our children defenseless or alone.

There will always be something lurking around the corner and

our kids are gonna get in some sticky situations.

But they must know that we won't leave them.

They must know that we will ask for help in order to care for them.

They must know that we will fight to protect them.

Not just sometimes, not just in some situations..always.

My children must know that they can call to me and that I will come to them.

They must know that they are the reason I breath.

And I've got a pretty fierce quack so....

Shopping karma

So it never fails that I pick the wrong line at the store.

Doesn't matter if the lady in front of me has 2 items or 102 items,

I always end up waiting.

It's like some evil witch put a curse on me when I stole a

candy bar at the checkout when I was 7.

(to this day I can't eat a Snicker's without a twinge of guilt)

I will always pick the wrong line to wait in.

This summer as I watched my cute girls pretend to shop at the

children's museum I realized that my horrible curse has been

passed on to my innocent children.

Such a tragedy.

Drama queen

You'll never guess which one of my daughters thought this was funny.

She laughed and laughed.

Should I be concerned?

I'm suffering from "BHTB Syndrome"...help!!

It is a very real and serious syndrome. It is a silent syndrome. Full of stereotypes and judgement. People don't like to talk about it.

I have seen friends and family suffer. The effects from this condition last for years and whole families become victims of BHTB. I have been afraid of becoming a victim for some time and unfortunately my fears are becoming reality.

Professionals are concerned that they are nowhere near finding a treatment let alone a cure for this syndrome.

I therefore, am taking it upon myself to make people aware of this condition and supporting me in my cause.

What is BHTB Syndrome?

"But He's The Baby".

The symptoms are subtle at first but quickly become easily recognizable.

He is still called the "baby" at 2 years old.

He simply points and grunts at an object and no less than 3 people rush to bring it to him.

You no longer hear that annoying whine or cry. You have simply learned to tune it out even though people in the same room would like to put him outside with the dog.

Rules that were strictly enforced with older siblings are either ignored or simply forgotten.

A smile or pout provides "the baby" with whatever he wants.

When the "baby" gets hurt it is always someone else's fault.

He stays up much later than older siblings and gets to sleep with mom and dad.

You find yourself absent-mindedly letting him drink from your glass of Dr. Pepper without even realizing that he's doing it.........and then let him do it again 5 minutes later.

Time-outs last about 5 1/2 seconds.

"No" really means.."keep asking me and eventually I'll give in".

Please...I need your help! The closest I've ever come to knowing a celebrity is dating a guy who once met Carrot Top in an airport bathroom so this is a grass roots effort. There will be no Celebrity Telethons hogging all the channels.

We must inform mothers everywhere. This an important issue. If it continues to go unaddressed, we will all suffer. We will be surrounded by spoiled, entitled, "give me what I want" adults. We must act now!!

Oh, I have to go...the "baby" needs me.

What's wrong with this picture? Church Edition

So everyone knows that sometimes church can get boring right?
Oh stop it! You know it does.

Since Greg was put into the Bishopbric, I am now in charge of getting
5 children and myself ready and to church by 9:00 a.m.
It rarely happens. We usually stroll in around
9:04...ish.

So for those lucky people that get to sit by the Dibbles
at church, I have created a game to help them stay awake.
It's called the "What did Mindy forget today?" game.
It allows our fellow hard chair patrons the opportunity to
notice what is missing from either me or one or all of my children's wardrobes.
It's fun.

couldn't find Kenna's matching ribbon.


No tights for Olivia.

Where are Ethan's shoes?

Who ironed Lindsay's skirt?

Not me.

and no one's happy when Tyson's treats are forgotten.

(This was not part of the game and will never be ignored again!!)

I'm just trying to serve my fellow man.

I do what I can.

Your welcome.

I'm sure there will be many more editions to come.

Now I'm a Believer..

Remember this post?
I was having a pretty rough time finding the energy I needed to get through the day.
I was not sleeping well and was therefore tired all the time. I wasn't eating well. You know how it goes right? You pick the leftover PB&J off your toddler's plate, throw down 1/2 a bananna and a Dr. Pepper and that's lunch. I had misplaced my "ummppphh" and it was affecting me in all aspects of my life.
I know, I know, I have 5 kids and a husband and lots of responsibilities. Of course, I'm going to get a little run down. But it was something different. My body felt weighted. And I don't mean fat or overweight...I felt heavy and slow...like a slug. I was exhausted. No amount of Dr. Pepper or Red Bull was going to help.
I knew I needed...something.
And then Greg came home and told me of a cleanse he had recently heard about. I had heard about colon cleanses and didn't want to do that. He said that this one supposedly cleansed not only your colon but your whole body. It would remove the toxins in your body, give you tons of energy AND one of the side effects is.....weight loss.
WHAT!?!?
Give me energy and lose weight?
Now, if I were a super-hero..my name would be 'Skeptagirl'. My powers would be to doubt everything that sounded too good to be true.
I would have a sidekick called 'The Yeah Right Kid' who would roll his eyes and say
"Yeah Right!" all the time. My arch nemesis would be the "As seen on T.V. people". I would go around exposing all the charletons and saving humankind a fortune in $19.99 increments.
(and of course, I would look smokin' hot in my super-hero outfit).
So naturally I was not convinced but at this point I was so desperate for some energy that I had two options to chose from.
1. Try the cleanse.
2. Get hooked on Crystal Meth.
Seeing as how Crystal Meth is illegal (I don't look good in orange or jumpsuits) and much more expensive than the cleanse, I decided that doing the cleanse would be the better solution.
Fast forward to me 10 pounds lighter, 10 inches smaller and filled with energy.
And I sleep better.
Now, you must know that I would tell you if something was a bunch of hoooey. I wouldn't exaggerate or mislead. I will tell you what I really thought about it.
It takes a certain amount of discipline but nothing too difficult.
A chocolate (or vanilla..if you're boring) shake in the morning, a sensible lunch, a shake at night. And tons of water.
Then there are the cleanse days. They consist of the cleanse drink and snacks. And tons of H2O.
It was actually much easier than I thought it might be.
I hate it when people don't tell how much something costs or try to make it sound less. You know what I mean? Cause $39.99 sounds so much cheaper than $40.00. Whatever.
The 11 day cleanse costs $150.00 and was worth every Wendy's junior cheeseburger
I won't be buying. It has made such a difference in the kind of mother and wife I am.
I did gain back about 3 pounds since then but I would have willingly gained 3 pounds in exchange for the energy I felt and the knowledge that I was cleaning my body from the inside out. The everyday toxins we put into our bodies are bad. They're like dryer lint. If you don't empty that dryer lint thingy, all that lint sits there and it makes your dryer run twice as hard and use much more energy and probably eat socks. I just needed to empty my dryer lint thingy.
I feel like one of those shiny energy efficient front loading dryers (in super-hero red of course).
So now, I've convinced Greg and my sister to do the cleanse. They will be starting on Monday and they are very excited about it. Let me know if you want to be a shiny new dryer too.
The cleanse is from Isagenix and you can go here to learn more about it. If you would like to do it with Greg and Melinda on Monday, let me know and I can get you the product in time.
For the low, low price of $19.99...or so.
Here's to healthy, clean living.

What I'm Doing Matters.

Saturday was nice.

I sat in the warm sun watching children kick a soccer ball and laugh and play.
We worked in the yard and made it look beautiful.

I planted flowers.

I went to bed exhausted from a hard day of work and sunshine.

Listened to a lovely talk in church on Sunday

and then visited with family on a deliciously warm April evening.

And I watched this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8K9s7_k3TM&feature=player_embedded

I'm sorta important.

I feel motivated.

In some countries, P.J.'s are considered work attire.

This is me.
I don't usually look like this.
Usually I am active and bubbly and happy to be here.
I am in a funk!
I don't know if it's been the late winter weather, my allergies
*I want to scratch my eyeballs out of my head*,
stress, or if my jammies are simply much too comfortable.
Whatever the reason, I just can't quite get it together.
My brain knows the game plan. My body has it's jersey on.
And my spirit's got the pom poms out and ready.
They're just not all being team players together.
They've all dropped the ball.
I have so many responsiblities and obligations that need to be met every day.
I know, without doubt that my greatest opportunity for growth is to be wife to Greg and mother to 5 beautiful children. I know that.
but there are days when I just wish I could go and hide in the corner for awhile.
That sounds so selfish and childish but sometimes it feels so much bigger than me.
It's just too much.
I just want to lay on my couch. I just know that Ryan Seacrest and his American Idols will make all of those bills get paid and the laundry will disappear if I'm too busy looking up meaningless nonsense on the internet....right? If I watch the Food Network, won't dinner magically appear?
It doesn't help that my husband is beginning to resemble "The Rock" since
he's been doing P90X.
I am looking a little less solid.
I just want all the yucky stuff to go away.
Of course, I am very aware that the Fairy Godmothers of the world are all on vacation in the Bahamas and I am on my own.
I know as women, and as mothers we expect ourselves to be 'Super-women'.
These amazing over-acheivers who can keep a perfect home, attend all field trips and PTA meetings, serve everyone, make gourmet meals and look fantastic.
It's just not realistic.
From the time I was young, I have always been concerned with how people perceive me.
I want people to like me and think I'm a good person.
I don't want anyone to think that I'm not good enough. That I don't do enough.
I guess over the years I have learned that it doesn't really matter what people think I am like,
it's what I knowI am like.
Does anyone else ever feel like this? Am I normal?

I know I do nothing but gush over my amazing husband on this blog
but yeah...he's somethin else. He has expertly walked the tightrope of letting me be a tantrum throwing 6 year old and encouraging me to be the woman we both know I can be.
He is a complete partner in every sense of the definition.

As a kid, if we were being lazy my dad would say to us, "Engage Maverick".
I just need to "engage" again.
So this morning, I deleted all my shows off the DVR.
I made homemade banana bread.
and I mated the two baskets of socks that have been sitting there for weeks.
(another reason to love summer.....flip flops)
Maybe I'll go get a spray on tan, because everyone knows that celulite looks better tanned. Right?
little steps.

p.s. I'm really okay.

"Sometimes I just hate my kids!!"

WHAT?!? Who in the crap says that?
Yeah, so I'm sitting there at soccer and this lady is behind me on the phone. I hear her whining about being a mother and how hard it is. 'These kids' take up so much of her time and she is so bugged that she's stuck there on a Saturday watching these 6 year olds run up and down the field.
"And all they do is cry and complain," she cries and complains.
The whole time,her younger child is running in front of people screaming and stepping on blankets. Apparently she had had enough and yelled into the phone, "Ugh, sometimes I just hate my kids!".
She then proceeded to grab the toddler by the arm and then take the 6 year old kicking and screaming, out of the game.
She left in a huff and marched the toddler, the disappointed 6 yr. old and the black cloud that most likely follows her everywhere, to the car and they all drove off into unhappiness.
Now I'm the first to admit that motherhood is hard and a daily challenge.
I have been spit up on, puked on, and peed on, cried at, yelled at, and spit at. I've been tired, exhausted and darn near comatose. I've cleaned up more messes, fixed more owies, and done more laundry than I can even think about.
I hate doing dishes, I don't like dusting and I just don't even wash the windows.
And then there's the arguing that goes on between 5 children under 10. I'm convinced that kids just like to argue. The topic is not even important...
they just like to bug each other.
I try to hold it together but as much as I would like to think I'm Ghandi, I'm probably closer to Genghis Khan.
There are days I think I might lose it.
But I would NEVER say that I hate my children. I wouldn't even think it because I cannot even fathom feeling it.
I am humbled daily that God thought enough of me to send me FIVE of His children.
They have such incredible gifts to share with me.
My Lindsay Lou Bug got an extra service gene in heaven.
I depend on her way more than any 9 1/2 year old should be depended upon. She is so eager to please and is willing to do anything that she thinks will make me happy. She succeeds at everything she tries and is humble about it. She is such a fantastic oldest sister and the kids look up to her for every decision. It's such a comfort to know that she will lead them in the right direction. She is very in tune and recognizes significant moments. She wants everyone to like her and be her friend. She instantly loves and is fiercely loyal. I think she is amazing.
My little Kenna Menna is the definition of wonderful. She is full of wonder. She can spend hours in her imagination and never get bored. She has taught me to look at things as a child. It's easy to be cynical and get distracted by daily duties and she constantly reminds me how lucky I am to live in a world where caterpillars magically turn into butterflies and tiny seeds become towering trees. Kenna is the epitome of childhood. She sees the possibility in everything and everyone. She loves music and has a beautiful little voice. She shares her talents with anyone. She adores babies and cries every time that Sarah McClauchlan Animal Cruelty commercial comes on. She prays sincerely and with perfect faith not only for her family but for random strangers. She cut off 15 inches of hair so another little girl could have some hair. She is hope and compassion wrapped up in bubblegum and hairbows. I just love her.
My Olio is like the yummiest, homemade piece of chocolate cake... doused in gasoline, lit on fire and thrown in your face. Her humor and charm come naturally and she is a boatload of fun to be around if you don't mind being told what to do and how to do it.
She is never afraid to be herself or to speak her mind which thrills me and also scares the crap out of me. She doesn't let anyone tell her what to do {including me} I admire her confidence and secretly wish I had more of it. She makes me laugh several times a day and I am sure that we will always be BFF's. She keeps everything fun and exciting. And I just love that husky little voice of hers.
My little man Ethan is such a joy. As long as he has a car, truck, train or all of the above somewhere on his person he is a happy camper. {this is especially helpful at dance recitals and while visiting teaching}. Ethan loves his sisters and waits by the door for them every day to come home from school. He is anxiously waiting for his little brother to grow up. I find matchbox cars in Tyson's jammies all the time. Ethan often forces helicopters and dinosaurs into Tyson's fat little hands and then gets frustrated when instead of making the appropriate sound effects, the baby simply shoves them into his drooly mouth. Ethan loves to be outside and is enjoying his latest discovery...the wonderful world of bugs. He teaches me that life isn't too hard if you have a good attitude. (and a toy or two). He is my little buddy and I think he is awesome.
Tyson is so....six months old. I'm still learning his personality, his likes {mommy milk} and his dislikes {not being held}. He giggles and plays and he has got to be the sweetest, fattest baby I've seen in at least 3 years. And then there's that special look and smile that he gives only to me. It's like I am the single greatest thing to ever happen to him.
Everyone knows how I felt about having a FIFTH CHILD. I was so worried and was apprehensive about it even to the day he was born. The concern over what kind of mother I would be to him was almost overwhelming. But after all the chaos of delivery and the nurses and doctors had left, Greg went to make calls and it was just me and Tyson.
He looked up at me with those minute old eyes and a moment passed between us where spirit communicated with spirit and that little fifth child thanked me for letting him come to earth to be in our family.

It is a moment I will never forget and one I will cherish forever.
He will always be my baby and I will always be his mother.

My mother came to everything we ever did. And there were 7 of us. I don't know how she did it but I always knew that she loved me. Thanks Mom. You're the best example I could have. You too Jill. When I get flustered I picture you two and I think, "I can do it." Dr. Pepper helps too.
So even though the laundry is always behind, the vacuuming hasn't been done and my hair looks like Ethan did it, I hope my kids know that I don't hate them.