Carpet and Currently {May 2016 Edition}

It's 6:00 on Saturday morning, and I've been awake since about 5:00. I tried to go back to sleep, but I haven't been able to sleep in this week. Something in me is wide awake, but not in the "motivated" sort of way that results in me getting out of bed and being productive. It's more in the "I'm awake early, so I have an extra hour to be lazy before my kids wake up" sort of way.

Eventually, I came to terms with not being able to go back to sleep, so I rolled out of bed and started wandering the house in the dark. That's when I realized that I have nowhere to go. My kids are sleeping in the living room since their bedrooms are torn apart. There's a kid and a sleeping husband in my room, and the baby is right next door. I can't lollygag around the kitchen or sit on the couch, or I'll wake up the living room kids. I can't go upstairs or I'll wake up the baby kids... or the husband.

Normally I wouldn't be so considerate of my husband, but he worked from 4:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. all week and then came home and worked on the kids' bedrooms until 9:00 p.m. so the guy is pretty tired. Plus he's sick with some sore throat/possible ear infection deal, and he should really go to the doctor, but he won't (don't get me started...) So my whole point is, I'm sitting on bare cement in a freshly painted room because I have nowhere better to go whilst the people sleep. Hopefully the exposed tack strips don't poke me in the bum!

Our new carpet is coming today, and the bedrooms are ready for it. This is so exciting! I've never purchased carpet before, so this is an entirely new experience for me. It makes me feel so adult, especially since I went to the carpet store all by myself (+ 4 kids) and made lots of big decisions by myself and booked the carpet installer by myself and made a down payment all by myself. Scotty wasn't involved at all (which he is fine with). This feels like a huge triumph for me because I don't do "new things" well, particularly new things that involve a salesman.

I'm not sure that I intended for this post to be about the carpet, but it is sure turning into that. Quick! I must change topics before I write ten more paragraphs about carpet (which I could totally do because I love to overprocess life events - like buying carpet).

Here's what I'm currently up to (in addition to carpet stuff):

Reading: nothing for fun, but tons for school.

Watching: Endeavour at the rate of approximately 1/4 episode per day (I've watched it before and decided to watch it again. I had dreams of staying up late and binge watching, but then my kids took over the living room, so the TV is a little off limits for now).

Painting: a bed, a dresser, and book shelves for the kids' rooms.

Wearing: exercise clothes because, believe it or not, I intend to exercise at 6:45.

Learning: how to stop complaining. I have a relapse yesterday, but I'm back on the horse today (it helps that it's only 6:20 a.m. and I've yet to make contact with another human being).

Looking forward to: the dozen donuts I intend to buy for game night tonight. One of these days, I'll figure out how to eat healthy and exercise consistently, but until then, I'll just keep up with my sporadic efforts and gluttony. Did I mention there will also be pizza?

Dreading: temperatures over 75 degrees.

Procrastinating: all things homework-related. I skipped an assignment this week because I just couldn't bring myself to do it. The assignments in that class are ridiculous. They go a little bit like this:

1. Answer this question that doesn't make sense.

2. Answer this question that is a re-phrasing of question #1.

3. Define this term that is not in your text book. Try Googling - I dare you! You will find that this term does not exist in the internet world, and you will highly suspect that the course designer made it up. Nay, you will know that the course designer made it up because, if Google can't find it, it isn't a "thing."

Happy about: returning to healthy hair. After I had Eva, I lost quite a bit of hair, and about two months ago, my hair still looked so frail and unhealthy. I decided that if I couldn't get it looking better within three months, I would chop it off (which I really didn't want to do because I don't like short hair on me, but I didn't see any point in continuing to have long hair if it looked so awful). I bought some hair vitamins and a hair product that claimed to help with breakage and restoration. I'm surprised, but it actually looks a lot better! It's on the mend! I can keep my hair!

And thus ends my random morning post for the day. It's time to go pretend to exercise!

When I Should be Painting

This week, Scotty and I have been trying to get Daisy and Nicky's new bedrooms ready for carpet. We procrastinated Nicky's room. Carpet is scheduled for tomorrow (Saturday), and we didn't start his room until Monday. We had to build a closet (his room didn't have one), tear out the existing carpet, and paint. That sounds like a small list, but if you've ever built a closet, you know how much work that is. Plus, his room has a chair rail, so it wasn't just simply slapping paint on the walls. We had to do the top color and the bottom color and then tape everything off to paint the chair rail and the baseboards. Plus, we had to remove the chair rail where we built the closet and add chair rail around the outside of the closet.

(The funny thing is that I'm speaking in past tense as if it's already done, but some of this stuff we haven't even started yet!)

It has been a lot of work, but I'm glad we scheduled the carpet and put the pressure on because it made us spring into action.

I guess what I'm getting at here is that I should be painting right now, but I needed a little break, so I'm sitting on my stairs typing a quick post while my three-year-old sprays the back of my head with a squirt bottle.

That means that this post will have no structure and will address anything that randomly pops into my head (you should be used to that by now).

Another thing that has been going on this week is that it is the last week of school. Nicky's last day is today (I just sent him out the door), Daisy's last day was yesterday, and I decided that since preschool for Zoe has been a thorn in my side, I didn't even take her this week. Instead, I kept her home and attempted potty training, which was met with a big, fat FAIL.

So the potty training thing... I'm at a complete loss for working with Zoe on potty training. Two years ago (as of June), she started sitting on the potty by herself several times a day. I thought this was amazing, and I anticipated that she would quickly potty train herself. Well, she sat and sat and sat, but never "went." She did this for about 18 months, and only had one pee and one poop in the potty during that time. Then six months ago, she stopped sitting on the potty. Now, if I even suggest that she sits on the potty, she has this weird, panicky, freakout.

I was able to get her to pee in the potty one time this week, but it was traumatic and probably set her up for more potty anxiety. Since I have had three very negative potty training experiences thus far, I'm a mess over it. I don't know what to do, and in all honesty, I don't fell very willing to deal with this problem.

Zoe is different, and I haven't quite figured her out yet. I contemplate daily whether there is something bigger going on with her that might need some additional study and education. I keep hoping that she will make a huge leap in her speech or social skills - something that will help me feel like everything is going to be okay. I got her test results back from special education this week, and her social/emotional skills have decreased by half in the past three months. It was sad for me to see that, but at the same time, it helped me realize that I'm not out of line when I consider that something about her is a bit off track.

With school being out, I need to figure out how to keep some structure in our days. Hopefully having two new bedrooms for Nicky and Daisy will help a bit with their incessant fighting. Our house hasn't had a lot of "personal space" available while we've been under construction. We are all up in each other's grills all day long, and it has made for a very chaotic household. Especially with how difficult this semester of school has been for me. Also, with having most of our house torn apart, I've lost any motivation to clean. I've never been a tidy person to begin with, but now, things are in complete disarray, and I have no interest in trying to organize it.

Which leads me to this realization I recently made about myself. People have always told me that I'm "organized." In my jobs and in my church callings, I've been given that compliment (at least I think it has been meant as a compliment... you never know). I was thinking about this the other day while cleaning out my very-not-organized van. I wondered how anyone could mistake me for "organized" when, really, I'm a complete slob. I thought, "Maybe I'm only organized in some areas of life." But what does that make me? Part-organized? I dunno. Then it dawned on me that "organized" is just the wrong word. I'm not organized. I'm something else. I haven't decided which word to use for it, but I'm leaning toward conscientious, but I don't know if that's quite right, either.

Even though I can't decide which word properly describes my false organization, I can say one thing with finality: I am a complainer. I faced this fact yesterday while listening to a podcast on the Mormon Channel about complaining. I always knew I dabbled in murmuring, but I didn't realize just how bad it is until I resolved to go a day without complaining, and I ended up not being able to talk about anything because, as I now know, complaining is my main source of conversation.

Yesterday I had to go to Daisy's kindergarten graduation, and when I got to the school, there was nowhere to park, so I had to go pretty far into the neighborhood. I had Zoe and Eva with me, of course, and when I got out of the van and opened the trunk to get the stroller out, it wasn't there. So I had to carry Eva, which isn't a big deal, except that Zoe often halts on the sidewalk and has breakdowns, so I often find myself in situations where I have to carry both girls, so in those moments, it's nice to have Eva in a stroller. We got into the school well enough, but there was nowhere to sit, so I stood at the back of the gym holding Eva and Zoe up so they could see.

Then after the graduation, while walking back to the van, Zoe had tantrums, and I ended up having to carry her (while flailing, of course) and Eva plus two plates of refreshments and Daisy's "diploma." It's moments like that where I just want to curl up on the sidewalk and cry. And the whole while I was thinking, "I'm not allowed to complain. I'm not allowed to complain." Which meant, essentially, that I would never be able to tell another human about this event because I don't know how to talk about "things gone wrong" in a non-complaining way.

(So, what is your take on that? I'm just testing the waters here... would you perceive that story as complaining? I need to know these things so I can create boundaries).

Well, off to paint!

The Dirty Little Mistubishi

This year has brought a lot of unexpected change for us. One plot twist that we stumbled upon recently is Scotty getting a new job. With that new job, Scotty gets to use a company vehicle, so we've decided to sell his car.

Here's the thing, though: Scotty's car is disgusting. He pretty much lived out of it while he was finishing his degree, and I thought he'd be better about keeping it tidy after he graduated, but it turns out, being gone for 16 hours a day had nothing to do with it. Scotty is just a messy fella. I would never even dare show you what the inside of his car looks like because it's too embarrassing. But I can give you some insight into the sort of things I found while cleaning it out.

Let's start with the golf balls.



Scotty has always had a massive stash of golf balls in his car (even his previous cars). I guess that's something you do when you go golfing once a year. Heaven forbid you be without your balls! I found at least fifty in his car. I am not exaggerating!

There were also divot replacers, tees, and score sheets. Oh, and an entire set of golf clubs.

After I got the golf balls rounded up, I got this strange phone call. It was 1995. They wanted their hacky sack back. Fortunately, I found that, too!

 

It was right next to the large googley eye.

I came across some markers Scotty "found" at the church. I recall the conversation we had about them over a year ago:

Me: Did you steal those from the church?

Him: I found them in my classroom.

Me: So you just kept them?

Him: I found them in my classroom.

We can return them now.

I found a lot of miscellaneous things like zip ties, the pistachios I gave Scotty for his birthday last year, a Barbie DVD, and fireworks. 

I found a lot of race memorabilia - a Redrock Relay tattoo, a Saloman window sticker, a piece of a Ragnar medal, and a few race bibs including this one:

Scotty has this thing where he refuses to clean any Spartan dirt out of his car. There are mud smears on the arm rests from three years ago. I'm not sure this will be a selling point.

I was pretty excited about the full stick of women's deodorant.

 

For a minute, I thought I'd discovered Iron Man's missing knee cap, but then I realized it was just a bunch of tangled fishing reels. 

Fishing poles in car: 6.  

Nicky had a false alarm where he thought he'd found some money:

I found four socks, 36 pens, 12 pencils, and 8 partially used packs of gum. He had two coats, a pair of shorts, and two backpacks in the trunk. There were at least 18 bottles of water and Gatorade, and about five days' worth of diapers (unsued - just to be clear).

It was brutal, and everything in this post only scratches the surface. 

You may have guessed that Scotty's car hasn't ever been suitable for passengers. Whenever we've taken it anywhere, we've had to spend hours cleaning it out. 

It will be wonderful for Scotty to drive a company owned vehicle for a while. He has to keep it clean. My only worry is where he'll stash the stuff he would normally leave in his car. 

Everything Random I Can Throw Into A Post Before Monday Steals Me Away

This semester of school is very stressful. I have always been an 'A' student (or at least a 'Near A' student). I've gotten a few non-'A's in my life, mostly in classes that I hate, so in a way, it's always been my choice to not do as well as I could in those classes.

For the first time in my life, I am putting in countless hours, and I am getting lower grades. I took a test last night and got 25 out of 35, which is a D. I was allowed two tries on the test, so I went over all of the questions after my first attempt, and studied up on the answers as well as I could. Then I took the test again, had a different selection of questions (but some were still the same), and I got 23 out of 35, which is a lower D.

This particular class is Adolescent Development. I signed up for this class because I thought it would help me relate more to teenagers, but really, my negative testing experiences are adding to my already negative emotions about teenagers.

Let me give you a little sample of the test questions in this class:

1. Amelia wants to be a clown when she grows up. Amelia is:

a) Highly likely to start her period early

b) Slightly likely to start her period early

c) Highly likely to start her period late

d) Slightly likely to start her period late

(I have to throw in here that that is not an exact question from the test - lest I be accused of some twisted attempt at cheating -  but it is only a slight exaggeration of the real test questions. Plus, in education, we don't say "start periods," we say "reach menarche." Because we're intelligent and stuff).

And then, just to make things even better, the test had duplicate questions, so I had the special privilege of getting the Amelia question wrong twice in the same attempt.

[insert excessive grumbling about poorly written tests]

[end scene]

Moving on...

Did you notice I have a new header? Why, yes, I am an overachiever. I changed my Christmas header before June!

Thanks to my awesome friend Lynsie for designing it for me.

Moving on...

Look what I did last night:

(I'm the one on the ground, naturally)

I overcame my claustrophobic tendencies by constantly doing this:

{Britt seeks the sky}

This is something everyone should do at least once (play bubble sports, not seek the sky).

Moving on...

Note my sandals in the photo above. They were my Mothers' Day gift that I bought for Scotty to give to me. I also bought new glasses (as in cups) because I realized that, even though we owned 100 cups, there were not three alike in any form. I also switched out all of my bulky bowls and plates for plain white Correlle. I've wanted to do this for years, so I finally went wild, bought what I wanted, and texted Scotty, "Thanks for the Anniversary gift." He texted back, without knowing what I'd bought, "You're welcome. I did good this year, didn't I?" My stack of plates went from 18" tall to 3" tall. It's a beautiful thing. I'm quite fond of buying my own Mothers' Day and anniversary gifts.

Moving back to my first topic...

As you now know, I am taking Adolescent Development. For the past two (maybe three?) weeks, I have been studying puberty to the point where my head will explode if I hear the word hormone ever again (see how I had to whisper it just now?)

Let me just go on record to say that I am sick of hormones. I'm tired of testosterone and adrenal androgens. I'm annoyed by GH, and to be honest, I don't even know what that is, as indicated by my test scores, but by darn, don't you dare say GH in front of me, or I'll lose it. I'm telling you, I will!

Moving on...

I guess I better go because someone is calling me.

"Hello?"

 

"Oh, hey, Zack!"

Thirteen

Guess what I was doing 13 years ago today?

I'll give you a hint:

To celebrate thirteen years of marriage, I wanted to do a fun blog post. A list. A series of photos. Something that requires an ounce of creativity.

I started said post last night, and then this morning, I realized that I have a test coming up in one week, so I devoted most of my day to reading for school. Fifty pages later, I thought I was done. Then I looked at what the test is on and discovered that I need to read 72 more pages. That's just the reading, and not the studying and memorizing of terms and theories.

STRESS.

So creativity? I have none.

But I'll tell you what I do have: an amazing husband.

And not just in the "gotta look good on the internet" way. I am truly spoiled by having such a good husband. He makes marriage easy. I take no credit for that, it's all him.

I love that we are at the point where we have been together for more than half our lives. I love that we have a family of our own with goals, traditions, and values.

So on this day of no creativity, I declare that I LOVE THIS MAN, and I love what we have created together.

After thirteen years, that is enough.

The Feels

Right now, I'm feeling all sorts of things. Good things, bad things. Emotions that contradict each other. I think the words "all over the place" describe me well.

Yes, I'm all over the place.

I'm feeling conflicted. Zoe has been in special ed preschool for speech therapy since November, and she hates it. As a result, I hate it. Yesterday, for the first time, I started seriously considering other options.

I'm feeling overwhelmed. I'm taking a class right now that has the reputation for being very difficult. I hoped the rumors were exaggerated, but they're not. I've done 6-8 hours of homework every day this week for ONE class. I've already done 2 hours this morning, and it's only 8:30.

I'm feeling forgotten. It's lonely and uncomfortable here on the back burner.

I'm feeling excited. It's amazing how much of an impact it can have on life when you have something to look forward to. My friend offered to watch my kids on Friday so I can go do something with Scotty. I need this!

I'm feeling blessed. Some things have fallen into place over the past few weeks that allow me to see how involved God is in our lives. Sometimes that can be scary, but I can't help but notice how truly blessed we are.

I'm feeling irresponsible. I made some stupid mistakes and totally messed up our budget for this month. I'm struggling with keeping on top of things financially as I become more and more scatter-brained.

I'm feeling motivated. I listened to a podcast yesterday about morning routines. I am a big believer in morning productivity, so I spent the entire podcast nodding and refraining from yelling YES! (the kids were asleep). Then I remembered that I have very little control over my mornings since I am ruled by a team of tiny dictators.

What are you feeling today?

How to REALLY get to Glitter Mountain

Last week, Scotty went on a trip to Disneyland without us.

Without us!

But no worries. Due to my excellence in wife-ness, I was fully supportive of this abandonment. Scotty went with three friends, and while slightly jealous, I was absolutely fine with it since it meant I'd get a picture of four grown men riding Winnie the Pooh.



While the fellas were in Disneyland, I took off on a southern journey to Saint George with my Nameless Sister-in-Law. I've been to Saint George lots of times, but I haven't really experienced Saint George. I've been to plays at the Tuachan, attended Time Out for Women, and spent a few moments in Zion, but there is a lot of Saint George that I haven't discovered. It's usually just a stopping point on the way to somewhere else, so this is the first time I've gone to Saint George as a "destination." That, of course, meant I had to google "things to do in Saint George," and in doing so, I came up with this idea to go to a place called Glitter Mountain.

I found a couple of obscure blogs with directions that seemed reliable, and Nameless found the same sources and also assumed them reliable, so one night, after dinner, we attempted to go to Glitter Mountain. The whole spiel about Glitter Mountain is that it is a former gypsum mining site, and it sparkles in the sunlight. It's supposed to be beautiful... amazing... and glimmery. It was supposed to knock our socks of.

Our attempt to go to Glitter Mountain went bad right away. The first error in the directions was an incorrect street name. "Turn on Washington Fields Road" it said... Well, let me tell you something about this Washington Fields Road. It's not called "Washington Fields Road" at the intersection where we needed to turn. It's called 300 Freaking East (or 300 East, as the sign reads). So if you drive up and down the street for half an hour looking for Washington Fields Road, you won't find it. But don't worry, 300 East magically turns into Washington Fields Road a few miles later, so if you have psychic powers, you'll probably know that immediately when you see the sign that does not say Washington Fields Road at all.

So let me tell you how to really get to Glitter Mountain.



Once you're on 300 East, within a few miles, you will come across some construction with a sign that says "Local Access Only." You can just ignore that because you've already been driving for an hour. You'll drive through the construction and formulate a story about "going to that house right there" in case there is a question of why you are driving on a road you're technically not allowed on.

The construction will pass, and eventually, you'll go under an overpass, and then you can get on the dirt road. But see, the obscure blog directions don't tell you that you are supposed to turn right onto the dirt road, so when the road straight in front of you turns to dirt, you will definitely think you're going the right way.

You can then drive 10 miles at 15 mph and wonder why one of the blogs said you can take a van when clearly everyone else who drives there owns a truck or an ATV. People will pass you and look at you funny, but mostly, you will be completely isolated and wonder how long it will take to hike back to civilization by foot in an emergency.

At some point, you will find cattle.

   

They will block the road. They will moo in your window. Their babies will look at you like you're a monster. The babies will run away from you, and as a result, head the opposite direction of their mommies and blame you for a lifetime of insecurity.

 

You will only have to drive for like forty minutes before the road ends in the middle of a cattle corral. You will almost drive into the corral but then you'll think, "Wait, why am I driving into a cattle corral?"

At that point, your sister-in-law will look at her phone and realize she has one tiny bar of service. You will hold absolutely still while she looks up the directions on multiple blogs to compare. One of the blogs will mention turning right after the overpass. You will look at each other and discuss the possibility of a second dirt road 10 miles back that you didn't notice. You will drive back. The kids will be very upset. You will have many feelings that you should just return to your hotel, but pride will keep you on the hunt for Glitter Mountain. You will think, "By darn! Even if I arrive by dark of night, I am finding that stupid mountain, and then I am writing hate mail to all of these bloggers with their useless directions!"

 

You will drive forty minutes back to the underpass where you will discover that, indeed, there is a dirt road to the right. You will rejoice because the road is smooth and you can drive fast. But then you will be sad because it gets washboardy and you will have to go slow.

At some point, you will realize you are heading north, which makes no sense because you are supposed to cross the Arizona border. You will come to a place where the road narrows and only ATVs can continue on. You will turn around and drive back to a fork in the road where you turn south. You will find the Arizona/Utah border, and at that point, maniacal laughter will flow from your very soul.

  

You will continue on for who-knows-how-long, and just when you begin to question your path, you will see a few cars parked by a small, rocky hill.

You will realize that there is nothing about the hill that stands out. If you hadn't seen cars there, you would have missed it, but sure enough, upon closer inspection, it is Glitter Mountain, but there is no glitter because the sun is behind the clouds and it's nearly dusk.

You will yell at Glitter Mountain for being stupid. You will also curse all those people on the internet who said Glitter Mountain was cool, because good heavens! You just spent three hours lost on dirt roads to end up at a small hill that didn't even shimmer!

You will swear to go home and write correct directions on your blog to help all the people on the internets who want to see Glitter Mountain. But then, you will go to get your baby out of the car and decide to change her diaper, removing it promptly, only to discover that she is poopy (unbeknownst to you), and while you are attempting to find wipes with one hand, your baby will stand up in her car seat while you hold her dirty diaper to her bottom with the other hand. And right in that instant, you will feel something wet splattering on your foot, and it will be your son standing next to you. Peeing.

At that point, you won't really remember how you got to Glitter Mountain. You will just know that you did, and that it took a really long time.