State of Obvious

First of all - 400? Really!? Gosh I talk too much! - Moving is not fun . I mean, once you get past the picking out new houses and such. The packing, unpacking, losing, dinging furniture up and general upheaval ranks right up there with getting a splinter under your fingernail. - New Mexican food = Yum . Especially Blake's Lotaburger. It's like heaven on a bun. - I don't have enough closet space. Not for clothes, for the other stuff. - I have too much stuff! - Family. It's just great. Truly . - People are nice. Mostly . - Dear memory foam pillow top, you have saved my life. Thank you. - Rain makes everything prettier - when it doesn't happen every day. - Kidney stones, well those suck. Especially when you live 45 minutes from the nearest facility that provides legal drugs. Just ask Eric (who drove himself to the hospital for mercy because he didn't want to wake the kids up). - I need more nails to hang things up. Or less things to hang. - Hey Cute Pam, I foun

So I am not sure if you realize this but June is almost over. 4 more days until we hit July and the year is half gone. That's right people, it's only six months til Christmas. And I haven't even started thinking about shopping. Here's a little something to ease the pain: I feel better, don't you?

Daddy to Carly: What's bothering you? Carly to Daddy: Joshua is torturing me. Daddy to Carly: Go tell Joshy to stop being a terrorist.

A sunset in Edgewood, our new home town:

When I was about 12, give or take, ( ohmygoshIjustrealizedthatwas 20 yearsago ) we moved into a new ward. A ward is the fancy Mormon word for congregation, basically. This wasn't our first family move, in fact by this point we were pros at the whole moving thing - I had never lived in one place for more than 3.5 years in all my life. But now we're talking about formative teenage years. And awkwardness. Oh, and also the age where you are old enough to give a talk in Sacrament Meeting. That's the main meeting for our church that everyone in your ward attends. Kids, adults, peers. I can feel sweat prickling on my neck now, just remembering. So there I was, new to the ward, 12, and terrified. My Dad gave me advice on talk prep. He provided a newish copy of the Ensign - our church's magazine - and said I should pick something from there and read it/discuss it. There was a fairly lengthy article about pioneers in there that he particularly thought would be of int

We've reached that point. You know, the point where we don't live here anymore but all our stuff is here. We are halfway between packed up and living in jumble. The problem is, my brain won't stop. OK, I know, that's a normal thing for me, the constant whirring. But in this case my mind is focused. Focused on the million tiny things left to do. Like double checking that all the clothes are clean and ready to be packed. Like making sure I've cleaned out my office so that stray trash won't get shipped across country. Like examining the floors and marvelling at how much trash a family makes in just a few days. Especially when they are cleaning things out. Tomorrow the movers arrive. They are going to pack up our life's collection into a truck. They're going to box up the Michigan phase of life and stow it for safe keeping. There is no going back now, no changing our mind. Our future lies somewhere over the horizon, south and west. These million

- the big events sneak up on you. Suddenly it seems like they just happen , even if you have been waiting and waiting. - time speeds up the older you get. Maybe it's because you move slower. - the water never stays hot quite long enough. - a good book never feels like it's over. - saying goodbye hurts even if it's the third or fourth time. - you always have to go to the bathroom when you least want to get up. - there is nothing on TV. But you keep watching. - children are always fascinating. Even when you see them every day. - na na na na, life goes on.

- How do you feel about being the mother of a black girl? I wish I could say I don't think about this very often but the truth is I think about it quite a bit. Sometimes things happen that point out the differences to me. Like last night, during dinner Carly announced that she didn't want to be 'chocolate' anymore. She wanted to be like Mommy, Daddy and Joshy. This made me sad. She sees the difference too. I don't think she feels there is something wrong, she just wants to be the same as her family. I have had to learn about a lot of things I didn't expect to learn about. Like how to keep her hair from getting too dry and brittle. Like how dry black skin gets. But, they have (thus far) all been good and interesting things to learn about. In the future I plan to study black history more so that I can have a working knowledge of Carly's biological culture. I sometimes feel guilty that I haven't done this yet. When you take education classes during the adop

I've got a serious case of the Don't Wannas. I don't wanna make dinner. I don't wanna clean the family room. I don't wanna go outside. I don't wanna read a book. I don't wanna pack stuff. I don't wanna finish fixing Josh's border. I don't wanna...do you really need me to go on? I didn't think so. Sigh. I think it's spreading too. When I told Josh to go outside and play, what do you suppose he said? "I'm an indoor person" "How long do I have to stay out there, like in minutes?" Sigh. I've heard the cure for Don't Wannas is to just get up and do stuff anyhow. Eventually you shake it off and feel better. But I don't wanna find out.

Swish swish goes the mop across the floor, wiping away a few days worth of dirt, the many tracks of a busy life. The mop moves in time with my breathing, hypnotic as my arms pump back and forth. It makes me think. Sometimes I wonder why I'm doing this , especially on days like today. Cleaning floors that are never all the way clean, wiping nose that never stop running, laundry that breeds while I'm not looking, cooking for bellies that will be hungry again soon. Why did I give up that job in high finance {read bank teller job} for this ? At least, at the bank, when someone made me angry it didn't make my eyes bulge out. I might have wanted to yell at those people, from time to time, but I never actually did yell. And at the end of the day I was done, walk away, hands clean, until the next day when it would start fresh. This Mommy job is a whole lot dirtier, and angrier, and louder, and it never stops . Swish swish goes the mop across the floor, and now Carly adds her own

We had: But not many pictures taken. Because I was too busy being buried in the heaps of love . p.s. If you were there and you took pictures, pretty please email me a copy

Some days I just think: OH. MY. GOSH. MY. CHILDREN. NEVER. LISTEN. TO. ME. And then I check the mirror to make sure that a) all my hair hasn't fallen out and b) my hair is still brown. So far, I'm safe. Today, however... Don't worry, if/when it does happen, I'll take pictures. Because that's bound to be funny.

Which also happens to be my Mother's birthday . Twenty nine years ago (give or take) she tumbled down from Heaven and started her earthly journey. It hasn't been an easy road for her, in fact it's been downright rocky. But, she keeps going. She's been knocked down, she's been torn down, she's been built back up piece by piece. She's found true love, the deep enduring kind you read about in fairy tales, and married her Prince going on 40 years ago - pretty remarkable when you remember she is only 29, isn't it? She birthed four children and somehow made it through their childhoods (my teenage years alone probably qualify her for Sainthood). She nursed my Grandparents, opened her home to my brother when he was down and out, tended her grandbabies, weathered a heart problem that almost took her life, and still she is smiling. If I told you her life story, you would be amazed she is still standing - but it is not my story to tell. My story started because of

We mailed back our closing documents today. By Friday we should officially be funded homeowners. Yay us! The other good news of my day: Cute Pam just had her gazillionith girl today. Ok so it was only number five but when all five are teenagers at the same time, I'm betting it feels like a gazillion. Anyhow, congrats Pam! Little Eliza Rose has serious old lady face - funny how newborns all do look like shriveled old people but in a cute new baby kind of way. I'm really quite sad I won't get to see Eliza grow into a plump, squishy baby (except through pictures and blogs, but that's just not the same) . I feel a bit of melancholy today - what with babies and the certainty of signed documentation. I was looking at the trees, so many here, green and glorious in the variety and I already miss them.

That's the feeling around here. Bored, too - maybe a little bit. I think it probably has something to do with the time of year, perched right between spring and summer and not really wholly invested in either one. I'm sure it has something to do with the current circumstances too - one foot out the door, the other firmly planted on Michigan soil; boxes part packed and many things pressing their way into the 'to-do' list. This morning I was not even able to list them all for this week. (Besides that, the things I keep putting off are getting kind of embarrassing.) I've been singing "There is gold in the eye of the morning, in Michigan, where I was born!" to myself for about a week now (from the song Michigan Morn - if you pop over to listen to the song be sure and note the piano part that sounds like waves lapping the shore, the beautiful and unusual harmonies, and the fun timing. This is one of my most favorite songs from my time with the Michigan Con