I had a good week. Last Sunday, I committed myself to being a better mom this week. Specifically, I decided that I was going to try harder to not yell at my kids and to chill out and stop obsessing so much about selling the house. I had been concentrating too much of my efforts on keeping the house clean in case I had to show it, and too little effort on enjoying my kids and on controlling my temper. Dumb. So this week I did much better. I was reminded that if I have been praying for it, the house will sell when the time is right, and I've no reason to stress about it. So anyway, I'm cool, the family's cool, and this weekend was SUPER cool. On Friday, after the kids and I left the library, we met Brian (and practically every other young family in town) over at the bank that was serving free hot dogs and ice cream. We all just sat out there on the lawn enjoying the food and the perfect 70 degree weather. Does life get any better than that? Oh, yes it does. It gets better when you realize that your bank is giving out free ice cream too (AND they have triple brownie fudge), and you just happen to have a check to deposit. I only felt sheepish for a minute when I saw a couple I know from the gym in the ice cream line and it occurred to me that they had just seen me eating free ice cream at the other bank a few minutes earlier. My confidence returned, however, when I realized that I had also seen them.
And THEN when I drove through the tunnel on my way to Eugene to do some grocery shopping, I kept honking my horn at Janey's request and the semi in front of me honked in reply. And THEN I withstood the temptation to buy everyone a 4th of July tee shirt AND I put back the five pound tub of licorice that made it all the way to the register with me at Costco. And I didn't even hit traffic on the way home. And Jim and Deena called just minutes after I got back into town to invite us to go up the coast a little to build a bon fire and watch fireworks at the water's edge. SO AMAZING. And then yesterday, on our way to the ward picnic where I actually participated in the relay races, Brian pulled over at the scene of an accident and was able to offer his help. And to top it all off, we watched the fireworks AGAIN last night down at the river and the family sitting nearest to us gave each of the kids a glow necklace thing to play with. It was just one of those weekends when I felt like all that was missing was everyone holding hands across America singing Heal the World. You know what I mean?!
Other than that--we bought a previously-bank-owned lot just north of town (in the neighborhood where we built the spec house) on which to build our dream home when this house DOES sell. (By dream home I actually just mean a house with a side-facing garage) Brian ran about 8 1/2 miles on Monday. (Did I already mention that he got in to the St. George Marathon this year? Did I mention that he is NOT a runner? I'm so excited for him!) Me and the kids are loving going to the lake several times a week. Camp has been assigned Mrs. Griffiths as his kindergarten teacher for the fall, Danin goes around squealing "I see your bum," and I believe that some of Jane's fits have lasted an impressive 45 minutes or so. What a life.

Real quick

You know what other movie I really like? I am Sam. Such a good movie...

Get This

Do any of you have reoccurring nightmares? Yeah, me too. Mine always have to do with my fake teeth falling out. I wish I could say that these nightmares are the result of the totally irrational fears that plague me, but they are not. Fears that plague me?--Yes. But irrational? I wish. I didn't get my permanent bridge until after my senior year of high school. During that summer, there was a time when I actually had two temporary bridges in my mouth. They had seriously just stuck the teeth in there with what I assume was something similar to denture adhesive. Anyway, one day while I was eating lunch, they straight fell out. And it wouldn't have been so bad except that I had a date that night. (Do you remember this, Meg?) So while I commiserated about what on earth to tell my date, my dad began insisting that i just call the guy and tell him the truth--which i eventually did. Hey. This is Ann. I'm just calling to let you know that I won't be able to make it tonight. My teeth fell out. Yeah, that's awkward. But anyway... I got through it mostly unscathed--except for the reoccurring nightmares. But the reason I'm thinking about this is because I recently had one of those nightmares again, AND because I talked to my dad tonight who told me that my mom's bridges fell out--her PERMANENT ones! Can you believe that? She's down in Haiti/Dominican Republic right now and before she left, she had to get a root canal. Well, the drilling must have gone a little far, because not long after she left the country, her teeth fell out. Unlucky for her, there is no way in HE** she can get them put back in down there. Lucky for her, nobody down there gives a flyin' rip. (Does anyone even know what the heck "flying rip" even refers to, or is it just another one of those phrases that doesn't make sense to me because I've just been hearing it wrong my whole life? ) But man, I just couldn't believe that happened to her. Crazy.
P.S. Because it's Fathers' Day, I'll mention that not lying is just one of the many things my dad has taught me. He also taught me to stand up for the little guy, work hard, be grateful, be brave enough to do the right thing--even when you have to do it alone--just to name a few. I've always known that my dad loves me and is proud of me, and I've always been grateful for that.

Ahhhhhhh

Man, what a good day. Today was (gratefully) so different from the past few Sundays. Today Brian did not have to hand Danin to the lady in the pew in back of us in order to carry Jane and Camp out kicking and hollering under both arms. (And this was all while I began my talk on how we joyfully read scriptures as a family, mind you.) And today Jane didn't wail "I waaaannnntttt to go hoooommmmmmeeeee!" all through the sacrament. And today there wasn't fighting all day. Today was just as a Sunday should be: peaceful, cheerful, enjoyable. What a blessing.
And you know what? Come to think of it--the whole weekend was good. On Friday, Brian took Camp and Jane on his scout camp-out. This meant a full 24 hours of just me and the Little Poo. I usually only daydream about days like that--days where I get to take a nap, the whole house stays clean, Danin and I eat slow-churned, low-fat cookies-and-cream ice cream (of course, with the amount I eat, it is anything but low fat...)and I enjoy the relative peace and quiet. But you know what? It wasn't as good as I had expected. The nap was good--don't get me wrong. But I found that I didn't know quite what to do with myself to pass the time. I can only paint Dan's tonails and tickle her for so long. You know what I mean? But anyway...at the same time that it was a good break, it was also a good reminder of how lucky I am to have my kids--who keep my head and my hands constantly busy.

What else... Let me tell you about Brooke. She and her husband, Ryan moved here about four years ago and I liked her instantly. I remember meeting her for the first time in the primary room. She had a navy blue dress on (with polka dots, was it?)--kinda fifties-ish--and a ribbon or head band in her super long, thick hair. She was super outgoing and she smiled sincerely when I introduced myself. It wasn't too many weeks later that I learned--upon painting my living room a fabulous granny-smith-apple-type green, that she, too, was in the process of painting her living room an outrageous green! Her project was, in fact, much cooler than mine, though, because she was stenciling a pattern of fleurs-de-lis (sp?) with a silver paint marker over an entire wall! So cool. So anyway, since then we've become really good friends, and I've been so grateful for her. She's been the type of friend that almost makes me giddy because I have so much fun with her; the kind whom I can laugh and shop with--the kind of friend who will tell you if you pick out something totally ugly, or if you have a booger hanging out. The reason I'm mentioning this is because she moved to Wisconsin last week, and I miss her. I'm not going to go caress her picture or anything, but I'll miss her and I'm so glad she's my friend.
Other than that, (and the fact that Brian finished the dental office!) nothing of any major consequence is happening here. I did learn a new word, though. Ubiquitous: existing or being everywhere at the same time: constantly encountered. I Keep hearing everyone use the expression "uber"--something--like uber excited or uber organized. So maybe that expression would be considered ubiquitous. Or maybe swine flu in the MTC could be described as ubiquitous, or maybe urine in my kids' bathroom would be considered ubiquitous. I'm not sure. I'll have to keep looking for its usage.
And you know what I've decided? High school graduation addresses are--for the very most part--lame. And being the scholar that I am--I have figured out why. It's because all high school graduation addresses--or valedictory addresses, or what have you--concentrate on something that is actually quite insignificant and meaningless: high school. You know what I mean? How can you give a powerful, moving, heartfelt speech when it is about high school? It can't be done. Or, rather, I haven't seen it done. The only circumstances under which I can imagine a great high school graduation address would be those where the speaker and those being spoken to had really honestly taken advantage of their opportunity to learn--maybe one in which the opportunity for education at all had just recently come; or maybe one where a great deal of sacrifices had been made for education's sake; or maybe one where you had a group of people who represented the first in their families to ever graduate. Wouldn't that make for better graduation addresses? I think so. (Just to clarify--I'm not slighting those who have given high school graduation speeches--I just feel bad that there is a tradition that requires them to do so at all.)

Anyway...that's all for now. Enjoy the pictures.

Like I promised--my toenail picking update

If you are reading this post because you came upon my blog after doing a google search for something having to do with toenail picking, then I am talking to you. You don't have to feel alone and embarrassed any longer. We are in this together. Even if you, like me, witnessed and then took up toenail picking at a young age, there is still hope. We can all come together to offer support and encouragement to one another, and together we can beat this destructive addiction. And it's simple. There is just one simple step on the road to recovery. What is it, you're dying to know? It's called socks, my friends. We need to wear them. All the time. I'd been good for months until about a week ago when I got too cocky and took off my socks as I curled up in my favorite chair. And yes, the temptation to pick was still too strong. I lost a couple of strong, grown-out toenails that night. But don't despair. I didn't throw in the towel. Rather, I threw on my socks. And you can too. Yes, I know summer is upon us and it is so much cooler and more comfortable to wear sandals. And, you know what? You can wear them. Wear them to the store. Wear them to the movies. Wear them shopping. Wear them where ever you will not be tempted to pick. But when you return home, put on your socks. Your feet will stay clean, your carpets will too (did you know that the oils in your feet are transferred to the carpet--making perfect sticking spots for dirt?), and your toenails will not be picked. Seriously! Look at my toenails! No more painting faux-nails for me! I actually have that white strip at the top of every one! Granted, I'm now realizing that picking my toenails is not my only problem. How in the heck am I supposed to get rid of that crusty white stuff on the sides of by big toenail? Do I have to use files and lotions and stuff?! I hope not...but anyway....I'm on the road to recovery and you can be too. Hang in there...
P.S. Yep. In honor of my new look, I even put my toe ring (which I took off right before the marathon in 2006) back on. What a reunion...

I dreamed a dream

Welp. Another couple weeks have come and gone. And they've been good. Brian's in serious crunch mode trying to finish the dental office that he has been working on. And Brian's crunch mode is unlike that of most others. His is the kind where he only sleeps a few nights a week--the others he just works straight through. Right now he is asleep and has the alarm set for 12:45 a.m. at which time he will get up and go back to work. I don't know how he does it. I would die. Seriously. I'm just praying he doesn't. But anyway... In case you're interested (Terry), you can go here: http://-6www.holmesoffice.wordpress.com to see how the office is coming along.

And me? Well, I actually did a little artwork. Not the amazing kind that Tiffany does, but the kind where you have at least been able to take up some space on a wall. My bedroom has forever needed a little help, so I needed to figure out something that I could put in white frames that would tie in the colors in my duvet cover. Soooo, I went to Michaels and got some blue and green jewelry pieces, and then I just glued them onto some mat board and framed them up--I mean, why wear jewelry when you can put it on the wall, instead? Very uncharacteristically modern for me. I've always considered my decorating tastes to be casual traditional, but a little modern flair has just started penetrating my boundaries. Get a load of my new lamp! I almost feel like a traitor! I still prefer (and plan to remain loyal to) curved lines, turned legs and feet, and raised panels in furniture, but more and more I'm starting to enjoy and appreciate the non-stuffiness of somewhat modern accessories. I suppose my style is more transitional these days...(I heard that classification on HGTV the other night.) That's as far as I'll go, though. I can't imagine ever being a fan of splattered paint artwork or lucite. You know what? What the heck am I talking about? At this point, my house is nowhere close to having a style. I need to be speaking in the subjunctive. If my house had a style, I would want it to be transitional. Yes, that's MUCH more accurate. But anyway... I also framed up two little scraps of the material I used to make my duvet cover and put the frames--along with my cool lamp--on top of my dresser. Those aren't really doing anything for me due to the fact that from even a three foot distance, the colors and pattern of the material are indistinguishable, but at least the white frames still brighten things up a little. And I painted a couple of paisley designs on two canvas boards (thanks, Sarah) in order to take up some space on the wall next to the armoire in the family room.
And lastly (and best of all) I bought a few more ceiling medallions and added them to the cool one that my mom gave me for Christmas, and I hung them on my red entry wall. I need to get a few more, but I think they look fabulous. I got the idea in my Better Homes and Gardens magazine. It was a Christmas decorating idea. They were supposed to be reminiscent of snowflakes. I decided however, that they were definitely cool enough to have up all year long. (Kinda like my red berry wreaths.) Pleeeaaassseee.

Wow. This is not a fun post for anyone but me. You know what would be a lot more interesting to a lot more people? A post about my toenails. I am not kidding you--I swear at least 25% of the few hits by blog gets come from people who have done google searches about toenail picking. Isn't that hilarious? So the post I did about toenail picking about a year ago gets far more hits than anything else I've ever written about (with my Pampered Chef post coming in at a distant second.) Sooooooo, in honor of my toenail-picking comrades, my next post will give an update on my toenails. Now THAT is something you don't want to miss.

P.S. You know what is even cooler than the fun I've had doing my little art projects? The fact that I had a dream about Scotty last Friday night. Earlier that day in the car, Jane told me that "she had a brudda name Cotty who died, too" and something about water and Jane trying to help him or something like that. So that night, I had a dream that I had started a race and was in the lead, running through water, until Scotty caught up to me and was yelling my name, smiling big. He was only wearing shorts (and maybe shoes)--which is exactly Scotty style-- and he gave me a huge hug and I told him I loved him, smiling big back. Then, he ran ahead and that was that. (I was running in the Rhody Run the next day--hence, the race.) Anyway, so cool. I hope you really are putting in your miles up there, Scotty, because I'll be ready for a re-match next time I see you.

Happy Mothers' Day

I hope you all had a wonderful Mothers' Day. Mine started out a little rough--neither of my kids would go up to the stand to sing with the other primary kids and the song they would have been singing is the very one I often sing to them at bedtime: I often go walking. Where the heck is the love? And Camp's primary teacher came by my class to deliver the Mothers' Day card he had made me. She said she wanted to get it to me before it was possibly destroyed. She said that Camp was in somewhat of a destructive mood and that he had said something about cutting it all up and killing something/someone. Yikes! (To my family--can you see me pulling at my collar right now?) But other than that, my day was pretty darn good. I was treated to the greatest luxury: a nap. Man, sleep makes me happy. Aaaannnndddd, while I was sleeping, Brian and the kids made me cookies. Oh, and Brian got me a couple of house plan magazines (man, there are some ridiculous plans out there), because I am in the process of looking for a house plan for our next house. I will likely be putting our house up for sale again this week. Why? Because in anticipation of so many of you coming to visit us, we've decided it would help to have a guest room. So tell all of the people you know who are moving to Florence that you know of the best house for sale. To start out, I'm going to be giving the for-sale-by-owner thing a whirl just to see what happens. But anyway....
Let it be known (in case I die, or in case it isn't known already) that I love my mom, and I love being a mother. I am grateful for the chance I have as a mother to experience the closest thing to Christ's love that I will ever experience in this life. I am also grateful to feel unconditionally loved by my mom and by my children. I hope they feel the same from me.

P.S. A special "Happy Mother's Day" to Brooke, who is sure to be one heck of a cool mama to the little Lima bean chillin inside her. And CONGRATULATIONS to Heather and Mim on their new babies!