a day in the life (with an old lady thrown in the mix for good measure)

I had been working tirelessly cleaning a house that was badly in need of cleaning and every time I turned around, the Un-makers (AKA: 3 year old twins) had undone something I had just put in place. Finally I fed their bellies and decided it was time to go outside. I was thinking that surely they would have fun outside and in the process, I wouldn’t mind the Un-making.

I took them outside expecting them to swing and run and kick the ball. I expected them to play with the fairy houses and jump on the trampoline. I expected that I would be able to continue the unending work that has been the clearing of the enormous and magnificent tree we lost in the fall. I got the garden tools out and started piling sawdust and shavings from the chainsaws into the wheelbarrow. I had already taken at least 12 loads to the woods in the past weeks. When I started to rake and clear until I could see earth again, my tools were stolen. Every time I put one tool down, an Un-maker would come and sneak it away and rake shavings back into the garden. Another Un-maker found the old charcoal from the last campfire and started putting new ideas of Un-making into the other one’s head. All this time, there was screaming and whining. There were complaints about who’s stick was who’s and which tool was too heavy. There were screams every time a bug buzzed in sight or sound (which happens to be about every 10 seconds), followed by panicked running and flailing, including the loss of tools and sticks flying through the air hap-hazard. I was loosing my patience!



I sent them to the trampoline, tired of their constant bickering and screaming. As I wheeled another load of shavings to the woods, I saw an elderly woman parked in my neighbor’s driveway eyeing the scene. I shushed the girls and tried to let them know that they were alarming the entire neighborhood.

As I continued the raking and piling and moving of shavings, the girls would not stop their screams! I walked over to the trampoline, my face stern, “Stop all that yelling. What is the matter?” “A sca-wy bug! It’s going to eat my blood!” “That? That’s just a pretty little lacewing. He won’t do anything to you. He just is resting.” Screaming and crying in bursts continue as I walk away. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, I walk over and say, “Just go back inside,” as I grab them off of the tramp one at a time and scoot them toward the house.



I rake and pile and I can hear banging in the house.  I try to ignore it. Knocking on the window grabs my attention and I can see them in the mudroom getting into the bags on the hooks. I try to ignore them. On my next trip back from the woods, I spot the elderly woman and she’s walking toward me. I drop the handles of the wheelbarrow as she says, “Hello!” and walk over to greet her. She introduces herself and tells me that she will be at my neighbor’s to work in the garden. I exchange pleasantries about the garden and she tells me that she has a background in gymnastics, eyeing the trampoline. “Oh,” I say, “would you like to jump?”

As she speaks, I am noticing her petite frame and her gray hair pulled loosely into a simple ponytail. Her eyes full of wisdom and something that I can’t put my finger on. Contempt for the way I’m being overly friendly? Curiosity? Energy? She’s been telling me that my rules I have set for the trampoline are not adequate. She has been informing me that she is willing to help teach the kids tricks and that if they won’t be happy about the new rules that they can come out one at a time and the kids inside can watch the one who is having a turn on the trampoline, among other advice and tidbits about enforcing the policies she has prescribed.

I smile and change the subject and tell her that the twins were screaming on the trampoline because they were scared of the bugs. She says, “What bugs?” To which I laugh and say, “Exactly,” with a little knowing tilt of the head. I tell her about the “sca-wy bad dweams” they have been plagued with, keeping the whole house up all night with screams and crying. I told her how at 2:00 AM I had to turn the light on and show my child each layer of her bed so she would be satisfied that there wasn’t a wasp in her bed waiting to sting her. The woman tells me about an incident in her childhood with mice in her bedroom. I tell her about last week when the cat caught a bat and brought it upstairs to the older girls’ room and it was still alive. “Well, that’s what it is!” She qualifies herself by telling me she used to be a teacher and that the bat incident triggered the night horrors and that what I need to do is go to the library and find a book about bats that is sweet and help the girls overcome their new fear. (I didn’t bother telling her that the twins didn’t ever see the bat.)

After watching her show me several tricks on the trampoline—seat-drop, swivel, seat-drop; back-drop, swivel, back-drop—and listen to her explain what games I can teach them that will help with various forms of development, (though she’s aware that I grew up with a trampoline and can do all kinds of tricks that we had previously gone through one at a time and name by name) I realize that the house has been very quiet. I also realize that this woman is driving me crazy.

“I need to go check on the girls,” I say, excusing myself.

Inside I find the work of the Un-makers. My purse has been emptied, all gum opened and wrappers littered on the floor. My wallet turned out and emptied. My emergency tampon has been opened and is lying in the middle of the floor and the band-aids have been opened and one is stuck on the floor underneath the table. I listen and hear nothing. I call to them and hear quick footfalls upstairs. I go up and find them hiding their faces on a bed with their bums in the air. They had found leftover Easter candy and had been eating as fast as they could. I heave a big sigh as I collect as many Robins’ Eggs as I see on the bed and floor and walk out shaking my head. I come downstairs to put things back together and hear them giggling and jumping on the bed, high on sugar. 



The next day I enjoyed, more than usual, the boyish games being played on my trampoline.

december views

Behind me I heard little voices: "I love you, Princess."  "I love you, too, Ladybug." So I stopped what I was doing to take a picture.




She loved her play dough snow man.  She put a little face on it with a marker and then when I told her to show it to me so I could take a picture, she said, "No, I want to look at it like this."  And then she just sat there.  So I clarified, "You want me to take a picture of you looking at your snowman?" "Yep."  So I did.


Her little tree.  She's very proud.  My favorite part is the clown nose that is being used as an ornament.



His retired work clothes.




Disguised for an activity at the mall.  This cracks me up every time I look at it;)


She can peel a clementine in one long stringy thing.


This is my oldest daughter's: a vintage compact.  She found it at an antique store a while back and loves that it has a secret compartment.  I hid a secret love note in it.  Someday she will find it right when she needs it, I am sure. (Because Father blesses us like that--little stuff right when we need it.)


Jake brought home this big tupperware that held cookies in it from work.  This little munchkin fell in love with it.  After hanging out with him all day, she said on the way to bed, "Mommy, I want to sleep with my cookie.  I love that cookie."




Home made play dough.


Through the windshield.



Merry Christmas, friends!  And happy all the other stuff that's going on, too.

xx

so what if I don't want to think of a title for this post?

There are times that I make decisions based on what I see other people care about. For instance, I don’t care if my kid eats something off the ground, but I’ve noticed that other people seem to care, so when I see them pick up something that fell on the ground I tell my children, “Oh, don’t eat that. That’s yucky.”

I have a drawer by the stove that is full of utensils: spatulas, measuring spoons and measuring cups, whisks, a ladle, a can opener, vegetable peeler. You know. That drawer. I just had all the stuff in there, there weren’t any organizers and everything was just chillin’ out together. Like a party. One day my mom and mother in law and sister in law were hanging out in the kitchen. Maybe they were cooking or something, but they all wanted me to organize the drawer. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind that I should make a point to go to the store and purchase something to go into my utensils drawer that would keep my whisks from getting unruly. So I told them they could have at it. By the next day I had little compartments within the drawer and everything was in its’ place. Weeks later one of them asked me if I liked the drawer better and if I could find what I needed quicker. “I guess so,” I said. It really didn’t make a difference to me either way. But after a few years of living with it like that I can see that I always know which area of the drawer to go to when I’m reaching for my measuring spoons. (And that comes in handy when you’re making a quick batch of chocolate chip cookies.) Now I notice if someone else unloads the dishwasher and puts something back into the drawer in the wrong place. I found myself correcting my son when he was helping me out one day. “Actually, the measuring cups go HERE.” I heard myself and was a little annoyed.

But I can see that other people like the drawer better when it’s organized and neat. So I do it.

There are all kinds of things that people do that I wouldn’t do unless I felt pressured socially. Things like worry that I have a trampoline with out a net. I wouldn’t care if it didn’t have a matt around the springs, but it does because I inherited it like that. I have a trampoline because it is fun to jump on. Why can’t it remain simple? You feel like jumping high and doing a flip because it is fun, so you go onto the trampoline and do it. That’s how it was when I was a kid, but now there are all these safety measures people have taken.



When people jump high on something that is 3 feet off the ground, there is a risk of falling. Sometimes people might get the wind knocked out of them and every once in a while someone gets a broken bone. To me, these are unfortunate moments, but natural consequences of being human. But there are people, lots of people, obviously, who feel that if there is a risk, we should find ways to prevent these things from happening. So they design things and sell them, making the world a safer place.

My guess is that those people don’t have ADD.

Today I killed a mouse with a shovel.

Don’t judge me too harshly yet; he had his leg caught in a mouse trap and the cat had been tormenting him for quite a while when I caught him with leather gloves. I stuck him in a bunch of grocery bags, bloody trap and all, and gave him a good whack out on the driveway. I broke the shovel. Then I felt like a horrible person.

And my day went back and forth, up and down, good and bad for the rest of the day.

The first day of school was canceled. Isn’t that something? The first day? Does that mean they have to make it up next June? Oh, Irene.




I wiped up about 15 pools of urine throughout the day. (potty training twins.)

But I also got to cheer about 35 times when they went wee-wee and poop on the potty.

And I got to hang out with my mom.

I made fresh peach sorbet and peach freezer jam. (now my mouth is watering.)

And there are two crock pots filled with apple butter that is making the house smell divine. (They are from my own ancient apple trees! Which I’ve never been able to harvest because they are…ancient…and huge and the apples are craggy and small and I can’t ever reach them. But we had a hurricane yesterday and she knocked them to the ground for me. Hence the apple butter making the house smell delicioso.)

I cried when I saw that I had a 7 year old form of Irene let loose up stairs and I couldn’t even walk around for lack of free floor space. (mama’s tired.)

But then I got to be the hero when I found my daughter’s beloved lost blankie so she could sleep on the night before the second first day of school.

light.er

It’s the greyest and rainiest day. And I feel great. I am standing in the middle of such an enormous mess. I am dirty and I need a shower.




But, by golly, wouldn’t you know it? (I don’t ever remember saying “by golly” but it seems that today it fits.) It’s the first day that I feel clear in so long! I feel hopeful and even though I have a lot of work to do, all the sudden I feel capable of doing it.



When I feel blue I get quiet because I don’t want to be that downer kind of girl. The complainer. Because I know things are supposed to be fine. I know I am blessed and there is no reason to feel so badly.



I’ve had people tell me that I blame my ADD for things that I shouldn’t. That I lean on it a little or make it into an excuse.



Now I’m realizing that the people who have made that assumption don’t have ADD.



I’m not trying to say that every time I’m down it’s because of my neurons misfiring; I’ve had a lot that I’ve been dealing with lately. Stuff that I’ve wanted to share here but can’t for whatever reason. One big reason is because literally EVERY time I sit down at the computer, when I return my awareness to my surroundings, something has been trashed. My folded laundry has been thrown about; the toilet water has somehow found itself covering the bathroom floor, rug and my babies’ clothes; the food pantry has been invaded and its contents been trod upon; someone has started screaming for whatever reason; I have to break up a fight; the cat food has been dumped out; the kitty litter has been scooped by a two-year-old (yikes!!!); you.name.it.



Even right now. I have left the computer while typing this at least a dozen times.



It’s simply exhausting.



You might be thinking, Brittany, why do you have five children? That is a good question to which I don’t have a cut and dry answer, and I’m simply not willing to go there. I am accepting that as part of my plan; part of how my life is supposed to be, and I’m ready to figure it all out in the middle of chaos.



Moving on. I was just considering why I feel better today and I think there are several reasons.



I’ve been sick and I feel a lot better today. Tired, but much better. (Someone unplugged the monitor so I have no idea if the babies woke up crying in the night and I am grateful that no one was vomiting their guts out like the previous night because I would have had no idea. I realized at about 7:00 that that fuzz I was hearing was just plain fuzz, not the fan in the babies’ room.)



Another reason: a while back my doc cut my ADD meds in half because my blood pressure went up. All is balanced and today I went back on the full dose. Just knowing that I was going back on the full dose lifted my spirits! Just the knowledge that I wouldn’t be completely overwhelmed for my entire day was such a relief!



That’s when I realized that if there is judgment from well-meaning lovely people, it is simply because they don’t understand the constant never ending battle of ADD. I am well aware of the bad rap that ADD gets and I wish I could wad it all up like a piece of trash and throw it in the garbage. Kick it to the curb.



I think I’ve babbled enough for today. All I meant to say is that I feel lighter. I feel hopeful.

And that feels good.

drumroll, please

I have something to tell you.


I have an article in the current issue of Somerset Life Magazine!



I was feeling like it wasn’t really going to happen. Like something would fall through. Like it wasn’t for real, maybe I just dreamt the whole thing. Why should I be in a magazine as beautiful as Somerset Life?

But I looked inside and there it was! My words and pictures in print!

I’ll even share my dweeb moment with you. While at Barnes & Noble I decided to buy the girls a little treat (they liked the looks of the m&m blondie) and a water along with my magazine and when I went to pay, the cashier was looking the magazine over while waiting for my card and I said, “I’m IN that!” She was like, “…oh, mmm hm.” So I went a step further and opened it up and held it up blocking her view from anything else and said, “See? That’s me!” (With a mouth wide open and eyes round as saucers to really geek her out completely.) She smiled and gave me a little, “wow,” as I took the ceramic mugs away from the girls who had grabbed them up from the display in front of the register and were about to drop them on the ground. Then I clumsily strolled my babies away, bumping that huge unruly stroller into a nearby table. But I didn’t care. I had just bought a pretty magazine with my own stuff in it. And my stuff added to the pretty. Oh, happy day.



So anyway, I’d now like to give you my thank-you speech: I’d like to thank all of the little people (you know who you are) for making me feel like a star. Now that I’m, like, almost as big as C Jane and stuff, I’m sure I’ll be speaking at lots of important blogging events in the near future. If any of my adoring fans are dying to witness my greatness in person, just be patient: there’s enough of me to go around. But just barely.

No, but really, part of what the article is about is how awesome this little bloggy tribe is. How I feel like I have really found a sense of community. I feel wrapped up in support here, and it’s a safe place for me to be myself. What a gift!  I love you guys!

Xo

Britt

conspiracy {update}

Just in case you were wondering, I’ve broken through. I packed a big punch.

You know, I’ve always thought it was a little weird how “they” diagnose you with ADD and then just back right off and expect you to just take care of it all by your little dysfunctional self. It’s like saying, “the reason your brain is a little funky is this: ADD. Don’t expect to ever be able to start any projects, large or small. But if you DO miraculously start something, then don’t expect to actually FINISH it. Now, go and figure out how to deal with it.” And then “they” go into a little room and laugh at you. “They” realize that the way society works is basically made by the people who don’t have ADD, because the people who do have it mind their own business. “We” (the ADDers) would be just fine without schedules and deadlines. But the other folks want it and need it and enforce it, and the joke is on us (the ADDers) because there’s no way we’d be able to concentrate on the task long enough to actually break through the system and loosen everyone up a little. Everyone else has such staying power! So, “we” try to fit ourselves in, a square peg in a round circle.

(you can’t imagine the sheer force of will power it took me to complete that paragraph, and I hardly have the stamina left to proof read it to see if it even makes any sense!)

I.

Get ready.

Called.


A psychiatrist.


WAHHHH ha ha ha haaaa! (that’s an evil laugh)

That’s right, I poked a hole in the conspiracy to keep my mind at bay, victim to the distractions of pretty things and making cookie dough as an escape. I was so desperate and overwhelmed that I actually took the time to make several phone calls in order to do this. (That might not sound like a big deal, but it’s like climbing Mount Olympus. Which incidentally I have also done and it was quite lovely and rewarding. Candice and I did it for my birthday one year…AH! See, I got distracted, but I caught it! And I’m not even medicated!!)

Some day in the near future (hopefully) you might find me…say…not only making dinner at the appropriate time and finishing it, but actually having all the ingredients needed. On hand!

Upon telling Jake my plan, he responded with, “Brittany! There’s no possible way that you’re going to walk out of that place without a prescription!” And to that, my reply is: exactly, my love. That’s my big evil plan. To take a little pill. Wahhhh ha ha ha haaaa! (again, the evil laugh)

I’ll show “them!” I’ll show them ALL!


update: so I went in, and sat there on the chair, facing my shrink and she flat out told me no meds while I'm nursing. period. I cried. but onward and upward, my friends.

confessions on a cold and rainy spring day

taken by her big sister

I forgot about my son’s dentist appointment—it’s in five minutes.

I yelled at Jake in the middle of the night. (It had to do with crying hungry fussy babies and sleep) (sorry, babe.)



I can't get this one to stop fighting with her brother.

Lactating for two is a messy business.

I’m wearing a Spidey band aid and under it is a dying wart. (eeew.)

did you have a nice easter? (and some other random stuff)

We had a nice Easter—I hope yours was happy too!



Sorry I’ve been MIA, I just have been super busy and haven’t felt the need to blog about it. I have this weird thing, too, where my blog world and my real world are colliding and I don’t know exactly how to handle it. It feels…uncomfortable and nice and weird and new and old all at the same time.



I just received my Squam Art Workshop packet in the mail. Yippeeee! That’s right I’m attending an artist retreat and for the first time in my life surrounding myself with artists to see what millions of things I can glean from being around them. I will be painting, taking photos and learning to be a superhero. (I know, I know, I already am a superhero. But even superheroes need a little coaching here and there.)



My boy is doing a bit better after having his tonsils and adenoids removed a week ago. He is still in a lot of pain. We, his family, are in pain when we get too close to him and have to smell the bad breath that accompanies this surgery. Holy cow.

hello, stranger.

So I’m back. I’m not good at the details—too hard to sum it all up. The pressure! Utah, family and friends, snow, wedding, big houses, yadda yadda yadda. Good times.

Since I got home, I’ve dealt with snow, rain, puke, washing puke from lots of places, washing my hands a lot, being sore from running for the first time in a couple weeks, constipation (if it was my own, I most likely wouldn’t be so open about it), and motherly/wifely duties that consist of cleaning and cooking and keeping everyone going in general. Hey, I didn’t say that I’ve been dealing with any of these things well. I still feel blessed and lucky, no worries.

This week I will be filling orders for aprons, forcing laxatives, getting ready for my boy to have surgery on Thursday (tonsils and adenoids), cleaning, feeding, reading, doing 3rd grade homework with my girl, finding beauty in the simple things, studying, making phone calls to my sisters while I’m doing the dishes, and trying to become a healthier person in general because I believe in that sort of thing. Isn’t my life so intriguing?

There. Now I feel like I can blog like a normal person again. Sheesh.

the cows came home

I am a peace-seeker. I avoid conflict. I don’t like controversy; it makes me squirm. Don’t get me wrong, I stand up for myself if I need to, but most of the time I don’t need to. I usually keep things nice and cozy. But for some reason (maybe it's hormones--who knows) I feel the need to put something that is completely uncharacteristic on my blog. I'll probably regret it as soon as some feisty person wants a debate (which most likely I wouldn't take part in), but here goes...

So Britney's crazy. The poor girl should be crazy in private. Stop buying the magazines with her on the cover--they won't stop printing them if we keep buying them and I want to scream every time I'm in the check out line at the grocery store. Even when I'm watching the news, trying to catch the weather, I hear about her. I'm tired of hearing about the train wreck. I know it's hard, people, but just look away.

And here's something else I'm sick of--Oprah. Blah blah blah. She's like a {false} prophet--what she says goes. That's a little freaky. Sometimes it makes me not want to read the book if I see "Oprah's book club" in the corner even though it's a perfectly good book. It's a little rebellious streak in me. The crappy thing is that if she wanted me on her show tomorrow, I'd go in a second. (But only if it was about my business or something positive. I would never want to be on Oprah talking about how dirty my kitchen sink is or that last night I yelled at my kids.)

Something that drives me nuts is when someone says they are open minded, but what it really means is that they are open minded about what they believe in, not that some people believe in God, and some don't. If you say you are open minded, people, then you have to be open to the fact that organized religion may have validity, not just open to the idea that God may not exist. In fact, even though I'm guilty of it, hypocrisy in general really frustrates me. I am always checking to see if I'm being hypocritical. Just yesterday I caught myself doing it when I reprimanded my daughter for fighting with her sister. She said, "she started it!" I responded, "You fought back and that is just as bad as starting the fight." Then I realized that I had just done that with my dear husband. Pretty humbling. If you want someone to stop judging you, then you shouldn't be judging them about being judgmental in the first place. If you want to be open minded, then you shouldn't be openly derogatory about what someone else believes to be true.

And while I'm at it, I didn’t like Eat, Pray, Love. I was so annoyed with the author the entire time and wanted to shake her and yell, “Snap out of it woman! Pull yourself together!” It makes me crazy that everyone loved it so much and found so much wisdom in her words. While I can say that there were inspiring passages, profound moments, and truths scattered sparingly throughout the book, overall I was very disappointed. Who says that to take care of/find yourself you have to abandon commitment and personal integrity?

Here's a controversial one: I think it’s embarrassing that such a huge majority of people like Hillary or McCain enough for them represent our country. I think it's too hard to run for president--it should be more simple and less expensive. 'Nuff said.

I don’t care what a stupid groundhog says, I want the sun.

That's right. I went there.

whew! I feel better. I may have to delete this later;)

If you need to vent about something, go ahead and get it off your chest. Leave it in the comments - don't be shy. (just don't be mean--there's no excuse for rudeness:)

• Brooke has an important post that brought tears to my eyes and is very close to my heart. Please read it here and consider making a difference however small it may be.
• There is a wedding here this weekend. Things are crazy around here, so I haven't and won't be around much. Jake's brother is marrying the love of his life, and if I were a boy, she might be the love of my life too. She is everything beautiful and feminine; strong and good; smart and competent

• Happy Birthday, Roger!

• We finished the tile in the mudroom. It was a lot of work! Our awesome friend Captain Rob helped us and now we're old pros. (translation: I watched him do all the hard work, then did a little bit myself. Jake got a little more practice than me, too) I love how it turned out!

• Rachel and I went to Stephenie Meyere's Q/A and book signing out here. It's the second time I've met her and she's incredibly nice and very generous. And pretty, too! We met some very fun people in line (three hours!!) and learned some interesting information. From Stephenie's mouth: Edward and Bella have a very fun and interesting relationship, but there's not enough room to write about the details with all the story lines going on; it gets edited out. Also, She compares an upcoming book (I couldn't figure out if it is Breaking Dawn or Midnight Sun) to Midsummer night's Dream.
• While I was taking a picture of one of my address books, I got a little visitor. He got a scream of surprise from me, and then leaped into the garden.

• The weather is beautiful and the garden looks especially nice for the middle of September in New England. (Thanks to the upcoming wedding, I took special care to water more frequently.)

it's a little too sunny for a realy nice garden picture, but you get the idea...

the vegi garden

• I told Jake to comment about the hammock and let you know about his research, but he's in the throws of wedding prep as well, so I just went out and looked at the brand: pawley's island
• Here's the German Pancake recipe everyone has been asking about:

1 T butter or so

6 to 8 eggs

1 c. flour

1 c. milk

dash of salt

Preheat oven to 375, and put the butter into a 9x13 baking dish and put it into the oven to warm it up and melt the butter while you're preparing the batter. Beat the eggs, flour and milk very well, until a bit foamy. Pour into the pan with melted butter and bake for 20 minutes or so. It will fluff while it's cooking, and you should leave it in until it's brown around the edges. When you take it out, it slowly deflates, so if you're serving others, it is best to present it straight from the oven--it's more dramatic that way:) You can serve it in many ways, the most simple being what is pictured below--butter and syrup. You can go all out with fancy syrups or jellys or fresh fruit and powdered sugar...

ps--as a favor the happy couple have asked me to take thier wedding pictures. I don't really know what I'm doing, but I'll wing it--I'm getting nervous! Please send a little prayer out for me that somehow the pictures will capture the beauty of a wedding day! Thanks:) Have a great weekend!