Thank You for Loving Me

Nikki,

I look at you and I feel love.

You are to me, my entirety:

The love of my life, my true friend,

Beautiful bride eternally.

Daughter of God, growing in faith,

Mother of children strong and true.

Valiant in work, fervent in prayer.

I pray to be worthy of you.

Better half? No—my better whole.

You raise me to a higher place.

I’ll gladly take your hand in mine,

As we strive together towards grace.

You look at me, and I feel loved.

Thank you for loving me.

In which Bubba wakes me up before the sunrise

Around 6 a.m. I awoke to my sister Erin's dog Bubba barking.  I thought, Silly dog is barking at leaves!  I lay in bed for a moment and decide I need to use the bathroom.  I stumble over children on the way to the bathroom and take a peek at my phone to see what time it is.  6:05 a.m. I blink to the bright phone screen and what's this? I have a new text that arrive at 6:02 a.m. from my sister Rachel, who lives in Hawaii, where it's only 3:02 a.m.

Rachel:  You out shopping?
Me:  No sleeping lol
Rachel:  Let me in its cold outside
Me:  Lol here??
Rachel:  Yes!  Shhhhh
Me:  Ok
Rachel:  Freezing

So I grab my mom's purple robe that makes me look like a fleece hippopotamus and head for the front door.  Danny says, "Where are you going?"  As if he should know, I reply, "The door!" as I fly out of the room.

There was my sister, Rachel, her hubby and her 6 kidlets.  Black Friday suddenly got more awesome than Thanksgiving. 

I am thankful for sisters. 

You need to contact your husband now - Part IV

A couple of the brethren from my church came in to give me a priesthood blessing.  And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that is the reason I did not have a 30 1/2 week baby or hemorrhage enough for a blood transfusion.

The bleeding slowed considerably after that.  I sent Sarah home around 4 a.m.

Around 8:30 a.m. I had an ultrasound.  The technician checked everything from the amniotic fluid levels to the clearness of it-- checking for blood in it (which there wasn't any).  He measured the baby and she was measuring about a week bigger.  He checked the placenta.  It was still way down low partially over the cervix.  But it appeared healthy and attached.  He looked at my ovaries per my request.  They were normal and walnut-sized.

From the time I arrived at the hospital until I was discharged about 12 hours later, they did a CBC (complete blood count) every two hours.  At first the levels dropped considerably.  But then they slowed.  And then they remained steady.

When the doctor came in again to discharge me he explained, "No cooking, no cleaning, no chores."

He continued, "No bending, no lifting..."

"What if I bend over just slightly and change a diaper after the toddler has climbed on the couch?" I asked.

"No bending!" he barked.  "And no diaper changing," he said as he noted it on the clipboard.

"So, am I on bedrest then?" I asked.

"No.  When you're on bedrest you have to lay down all the time," he stated.  "You can sit!" he said with a smirk.

"And," he added, "you may walk leisurely about your home.  But you need to get help.  No doing anything."

And so I did.  I called my sister to verify she would still be coming the end of July.  I called my mother-in-law to see if she could come take care of us until then.  I called my friend Jeannie and she did come and take care of us for about 2 weeks until my mother-in-law arrived.  My twins even started calling her, "Mom."

And here we are, a couple hospital visits for contractions, one for possible fluid leaking (don't worry I just peed myself) and one profuse bleeding (this morning as a matter of fact) later, still pregnant.  Today I'm 33 weeks.  I'm praying we make it to at least 35 weeks.  There's nothing sweeter than being able to take my baby home from the hospital with me.

The End.

You need to contact your husband now-- Part III

I used my iPhone to look up my email from Danny with his emergency contact info.  Danny had written in the email to call the base operator and give him the number to connect to him in case of emergency.  So I did.  It seemed like an emergency after all.
Granted, it was like 1:30 in the morning, but the operator was very confused. 

"How did you get this number?" he first inquired.

"My husband said you could connect me to his number in -------------------," I told him.

"That doesn't sound like a number for -------------------," he said.  "Tell me again."

So I start to repeat the first four digits again- only to be interrupted again.

He repeated the first four numbers back to me.

"Yes, that's right," I said.  "Do you want the rest?"

He repeated the numbers again.  "Hmm, that's not how that country's phone numbers start."

"Well how does it start?"  I asked him. 

He told me three of the four numbers I gave him.  Then asked me for the whole number.

So I recited to him the entire number.

"Yeah, that has too many digits.  It shouldn't have that many numbers in it," he said.

"Can you just leave out the number that you don't think fits and try it?" I asked.

He tried the number.  No answer. 

"Well, try it the other way please," I suggested.

He tried without the extra number.  No answer.

He mulled over the strange number I had given him with one too many digits. 

"Yeah, that just can't be right.  ---------- country starts with ***.  And this country starts with ***.  I don't know why you have that number," he wondered aloud.

"I don't know either," I said.  Seriously, I had never questioned it.  I never thought I'd use it.  And seeing as I'm not familiar with phone numbers in that country I didn't think to suggest it had to many digits before.

Sarah was giving me the I'll take care of this look.  But Mr. Base Operator tried again and I got through to a Captain.

"May I speak with Capt. Danny?" I asked. (Actually I used his last name-- but I'm not printing that on the internet.)

"He's at lunch right now.  Can I give him a message?" he said.

"This is his wife.  I'm 30 weeks and I'm bleeding profusely.  I don't know if I'm delivering here or if I'll be transferred," I told him.

"Do you want to leave a message for him?" he said.

"Could you tell him Nikki called?  And that I'm in the hospital trying not to have the baby yet-- but I'm bleeding a lot." I said-- wondering why this wasn't sinking in.

"He's at lunch.  I can give him a message," Capt. Could-be-more-helpful replied.

"Okay, well, please tell him I called and that this is an emergency.  I don't know if the baby will be okay," I tried to clarify.

"Oh!  I will have him call you.  We have a phone downstairs he can use," he seemed to be catching on.

Sarah was giving me the very serious I will deal with him look, and gesturing to me to hand over the phone.

"Well, can you tell him to call my cell?" I asked.  "I'm not in country, you know."

"Yes, I'll have him call you back in 5 minutes," he replied.

I relayed the message to Sarah and nurse Sandy.  Sandy said, "Oh, hand me the phone.  I'll take care of this."

But I said, "Let's see if he calls back like he said."

The person they sent to find Danny found him in the cafeteria.

He said, "Captain, you're going to have a baby. You need to call your wife."

Danny said, "That's not funny. She's not due for two months." But he recognized the serious look on his face.

And he did call me back.  But I couldn't give him a clear answer when he started to ask questions.

"Are they going to deliver you there?  Are they going to transfer the baby?  Did they stop the bleeding?  Do they know why you're bleeding?"

I just relayed to him whatever the nurse was saying. 

Danny told me that after I had called and talked to the other captain, he was told that I couldn't call that number ever again.  It wasn't a secure phone line in their classified area.  Danny said he'd get me a good phone number and email it to me.  He asked me to keep him updated on what was going to happen via email until I got a good number for him.  He also apologized on behalf of the captain who was confused.

Sarah called a couple brethren from church to come give me a priesthood blessing.  I think she called them before I called Danny.  But I don't remember exactly.  I just remember, they had to wait a little before they were allowed into my room. 

Around the same time Sarah was calling the brethren, I started to get worried about what my prospects were.   I decided to call my parents.  My dad answered.  That's when it started to sink in and I started to cry.  I think it was the point when he said, "Be comforted in knowing what will happen is the Lord's will."

to be continued...

You need to contact your husband now. -- Part II

It was 11 p.m. and I headed into the bathroom immediately only to discover my britches covered in blood.  I passed a clot the size of a golf ball.  I briefly wondered if it was my mucous plug-- thinking I've never seen one before and thinking it didn't actually look mucousy.

I was shaking as I unplugged my phone from the charger and called my friend Jeannie.  No answer.  I should probably call the doctor.  I'm sure he'll tell me to go in.  I called the doctor's office.  There was some strange recording that kept cycling and not ever getting to an answering service.  I remembered that I had the doctor's cell phone number.  I called it as blood was pouring down my legs.

The doctor said, "Everything will be alright.  Go to the hospital and they will call me."

"What do I do with my kids?"  I asked.

"Call a neighbor," he suggested.

I couldn't call Angela; her hubby was out of town.

I tried Jeannie's cell again.  No answer.  I tried Jeannie's husband.  No answer.

I called my friend Crystal who lives just up the street.  I was shaking with fear at that point.

"Crystal," I said shaking, "I uh..."

"I'll be right there," she said and hung up. 

I went back to the bathroom again looking for some clean undies and a pad.

I had no idea Squdge was awake until he was standing in front of me staring at all the blood. 

"Mommy?"  Squdge said with wide worried eyes.

"Mommy's okay!"  I lied.  "See all done!"  I quickly stood up and hid my blood-drenched undergarments.

Crystal was at the door.  It must've taken her a full minute to get to my house.  I explained to her what was happening and that I needed her to watch the kids so I could go to the hospital. 

"Who's taking you to the hospital?" she asked. 

"Me," I started to respond.

"No you're not," Crystal interrupted, "I can call my husband and have him watch the kids and I'll drive you."

"I'll try to call Sarah," I replied.  I didn't want Crystal to have to wake her children.

I called my friend Sarah from a couple streets over, "Sarah, this is Nikki.  I need you to take me to the hospital," I said weakly.  I was sure it was fright that caused me to get weaker.

Sarah said, "Okay Nikki."  And then she was silent for a moment.

"Your hubby's not home, is he?" I asked. 

"No, he's not," she replied.  "But I'll get Jacqui to come."

I sat on the couch with Crystal while I waited for Sarah or Jacqui.  I wasn't sure which one was coming.  I felt kind of silly asking someone to take me since I wasn't in any pain. 

Squdge peeked at Crystal and me from around the corner.  He looked worried and tired.  I wondered if he understood what he saw in the bathroom-- all the blood.

Sarah came prepared with a towel for my seat, in case my water broke on the way to the hospital.  She drove us the way the ambulance goes.  It was new to me and made more sense.  As we drove, we debated on all the reasons I could be bleeding and what the clot was from. 

I was worried for the baby.  She was still moving though.  And I still wasn't experiencing any pain other than the random contraction.

When we got to the hospital and checked in, a nurse quickly appeared and escorted me to Labor & Delivery.  I thought it strange that she didn't wheel me there in a wheelchair.

As we walked she asked me to tell her when it all started and to describe the color and amount.  Then she asked me if I had Placenta Previa. 

"YES!"  I replied excitedly.  There was a perfectly good reason for the bleeding!  I was so relieved thinking we'd solved it.  That was it.  They'd stop it and all would be well.

After being hooked up to the monitors for a few minutes and having my vitals taken, the nurse said,

"Well, the baby looks good.  You have a good-looking baby there.  We'll monitor you for probably an hour and if everything continues to look good, we'll send you home."

Umm, NO?!  Someone is going to explain the bleeding to me.  I messaged to Sarah with my brain-waves.  She understood clearly what I was not saying.

I said a prayer, "Please let them know fully what is going on and that everything will be taken care of before I go home.  Please protect my baby."

And the next part was a blur.  I don't remember how fast it happened.  I do remember the head nurse putting an IV in my left arm.  I remember Sarah holding my hand as I got a really hard contraction.  Sarah was so calm.  She had a very convincing demeanor. 

Then I thought I peed the bed.  I felt a gushing of warmth.  Then came a little trickle.  Then I felt another big gush of fluid leave my body.

"Oh my goodness!  I'm so sorry!  I think I peed the bed!"  I said in one breath.  "Or my water broke!  Oh my goodness!  Did my water break?!"

Sandy, my very calm nurse lifted the sheet to look.

"Umm... no.  It's not your water.  It's blood.  I'll be right back."  She ran out of the room to get pads.

I turned to Sarah, "I know you've seen it all by now.  Would you mind looking to see if it's blood AND my water.  See if it looks diluted, you know?"

Sarah lifted the sheet.  "No, it definitely looks like blood.  A lot of it."

And if I thought the first part was a blur, the next part definitely was.  I'm still recalling parts that I had forgotten.

There were just the two nurses in the room, and someone else popping in to give messages.  Someone from lab came to draw my blood.  There were lots of questions.  Lots of talking.  My body was shaking and I couldn't stop it.

"The pediatrician is on the way."
"The O.R. is prepped."
"What's your blood-type?"
"Dr. So-and-so is here."
"Dr. H is on the way."
"Anesthesiologist is here."
"Have you ever had a blood-transfusion?"
"Have you ever had a reaction to a blood-transfusion?"
"We're going to insert a catheter now."
"I don't want a catheter without an epidural first."
"A catheter is the least of your worries, honey."
"Do you have a living will?"
"Does anyone have power of attorney for you?"
"You need to contact your husband now."

"But why?  My husband is deployed in --------.  He can't come home anyway."

Sarah squeezed my hand, "Nikki, you need to call Danny."

to be continued...

You need to contact your husband now -- Part I

Tuesday evening I had put the kids to bed.  I sat outside the little boys' room crocheting beaded socks and singing Primary songs after just having read a chapter of Stella the Star Fairy to the kids. 

They were all asleep.  So I tidied up the living room.  There wasn't much-- they had been doing a really good job on their chores.  I vacuumed making nice straight lines that no one would be dancing on for at least 8 hours. 

I ran a sink full of soapy water so I could wash the big dishes that Pookie hadn't finished.  I started the dishwasher.  Then I remembered that I had a cute new shower curtain from the base yard sale page (on Facebook), and it had matching hooks to go with it. 

I'll just grab the step stool and hang this curtain, I thought.  If it's strenuous at all, I'll stop and ask a friend to do it for me tomorrow. 

Other than a couple days of random contractions, I was doing pretty good pregnancy-wise.  I was getting worn out and had recently discovered I could no longer scrub bathtubs or even bathe small children.  But considering all things, we were doing pretty good getting along through our routines and days without Danny.

So back to the shower curtain.  It was cute.  Shark, fish, octopus, and sea creatures adorned it happily.  The hooks matched perfectly.  What a deal for $5! 

I started hanging the curtain, easy-peasy.  No pain.  No strain.  Nothing at all.  I continued through all 12 hooks and removed the ducky curtain and hooks at the same time.  I glanced at the mirror behind me to see how it looked from that angle.  Looking good!  The kids will love it!

I stepped off the step stool and felt wetness on my legs, just under my skirt.  I thought perhaps the ducky shower curtain was wet.  It was a possibility.  I felt the curtain.  Nope.  Totally dry. 

The next thought was much scarier.  Did my water break?  I reached down to check things out.  And nearly fainted when I saw my hand dripping with blood.

to be continued...

That's what it's all about.

Every once in a while I think about making my blog more specific, ie. baking, money-saving, cloth diapering, cooking/recipes/OAMC, homeschooling, frugal tips, etc.  I have also thought about splitting it up into several blogs.  Why?  Because I know I could make some good money reviewing products with a more specific blog (or get free products in exchange for reviews).

Then I am reminded (because if I have held a coherent thought that long it is most likely daytime and there are children all around) that I have 7 children home all day long because I want them here.  I homeschool them.  I sing to them.  I read to them.  I feed and clothe them, potty-train them, wipe their noses and tushies, kiss boo-boos and train them up in the way they should go.  They are my priority - not a little extra cash.

I started this blog after the birth of our third child, Bun, as a way to keep grandparents and aunties and uncles updated with pictures and the latest goings-on of the residents of Pookieville.

So mostly it is: 

a mish-mash of daily life complete with tried and true recipes from baking to

Once a Month Cooking,

horrifying potty-training stories,

pictures of kids on birthdays,

when homeschooling makes me want to poke my eye out,

cloth diapering three at a time,

frugal living,

being green,

Christmas Eve nativity,

when Danny risked his life to bring me a bag of chips,

stories about how my carpet looks like oatmeal with raisins,

exciting news like when I was expecting triplets,

to the mundane news like trying to move out of a mold-filled home,

Kiddie Kwips and on and on and on.

It will likely stay this way.

Do you feel like you're spying on my daily life?  You are.  And I'm okay with it.

I like to think that others will learn from my mistakes and have a good laugh at the crazy things my children do.  I also like to think that you can benefit from my experiences-- as I benefit from yours. 

Thanks for being with me for the last 804 posts.  I hope you'll join me for the next 804.  Follow me now and live happily ever after.  *snort*

Dear Blogger, grumble grumble grumble

I have no idea how to submit a complaint to blogger, so I'm submitting it to you!

I am not deleting your comments.  And I actually read every one of them.  I get them emailed to me when I get a new comment.  So even if you comment on a very old post, I'll know!

But Blogger is eating comments and also not letting other people comment.  And it's very frustrating!

A couple blogs I follow have not been showing me the comment button.  I can't find it at all to leave a comment when I've really REALLY wanted to!

And just now, it showed that I had no followers at all!  Okay, I know I have 67 and I am very aware and happy for each and every one of you.  I feel like someone listens to me when I post.  :)

Now for more interesting reading, see my previous posts.  Thank you for listening and have a nice day!

Yesterday I had a root canal.

My mouth still hurts like the dickens.  I've decided I'm completely done with carbonation.

The doctor asked me if I'd like a shot of long lasting anesthesia since I shouldn't take ibuprofen while pregnant.  I said yes.  Five hours of numbness later I was rethinking my decision.  Five hours past that and I was wishing I was still numb. 

From 1 a.m. until 2 a.m. I sat in bed with my face throbbing in pain wishing I could just go back to sleep and not feel it.

I better cut back on the peanut butter M&Ms too.

Yesterday the washing machine was fixed.  Hallelujah glorious day!!  But when the Sears' repairman was leaving he said, "Don't use it until tomorrow morning so the glue can really set."

hmph.

Is that 12:01 a.m. tomorrow morning?  Or is that like 8 a.m.?  Cuz you know I've got five loads of laundry waiting and my sheets haven't been washed in three weeks. 

So at 6 a.m. when I got up to take some extra-strength Tylenol, I remembered my fixed washing machine.  I started a load and sat in front of it for at least twenty minutes watching it do its thing.

And I decided, I could survive without internet and phone and enjoy the prairie life, have my own cow and a few chickens, but I CANNOT live without my washing machine.

If you take a nap, I will give you TWO Otter Pops.

Today is the perfect day for the Otter Pop bribe to work.  It even worked on my 8 year old Pookie here.

 

This little girl has a fever of 102 and said, "I'm going to nap because I'm sick."

This guy?  MAJOR sweet tooth.  Like his Mama.  I hardly got the offer out of my mouth when his head hit the pillow.

This one here is Hammy.  You can't tell?  It's because he tunnels to go to sleep.  And now as I type this I realize that I didn't remove the pillow from his head after taking the pic.  Be right back. 

These two?  No Otter Pops for them.

I do not believe in giving my babies refined sugar.  If you do believe in giving your babies refined sugar, that's completely up to you.  And if you do it in front of me, I will be silently judging you.  

The only refined sugar they get is in their Tylenol.  They're sick too. 

The reason they're naked (now it's your turn to judge me) is because we have had bad luck with bottles today.  I think the leprechauns loosened the rings right before feeding time. Poor Squdge there (on the right) has had two and a half baths today.  The half was in the kitchen sink.

Random?  I think not.  At 82 degrees I feel the need to eat Luigi's Real Italian Ice in lemon flavor.  YUM.  And I wanted to show a random pic of my house (a small part of it) so you could relate to me better.  Feeling related?  Okay. 

Let us dissect the picture-- because if you're like me, you click on the picture and take in all the details. 

Shall we? 

First of all, let's look inside the window. 

The spoon in the empty cup signifies that my sink is full of dirty dishes because the dishwasher is full of clean dishes.  The cup hasn't been rinsed out yet to go in the recycling.  The cup is empty because I snorkulated the contents in under five minutes.

The rubberband.  Why is there a random blue rubberband in my window sill?  Because a certain Pookie was zapping people in the rear-end and the rubberhand had to go to time out.  If I were the mean old mommy that I sometimes am (when I have more energy), I would've thrown it away.  Instead it's there to taunt him because there still is a bit of mean old mommy in me today. 

The empty glass.  I drink a lot of water.  I do not like washing 8 to 10 glasses just for me every day.  So I leave my glass up on the window sill for a whole day at a time.  Sometimes it even has a little water in it while sitting there.  Not today.  It got too hot.  bleck.

There are water spots on my window.  Be grateful you don't have to look at the mold that is often growing on this window.  I bleach the guts out of it at least weekly.  Actually, I Tilex it.

Outside the window there are weeds in my flower garden.  Lots and lots of weeds.  I don't want to talk about that.

The blue truck.  Beautiful.  Shiny.  Always Clean.  These people have no children.  They have a clean truck. 

The green grass.  mwahaha.  I don't live in the Frozen North anymore.

Okay, all done with the randomness.  I think Luigi's calling my name again.  Ciao.

Wow! It's been AGES since you saw my name in your reader.

So this is what's on my mind today.

1.  A four year old boy, who shall remain nameless, has had NUMEROUS accidents in his britches this last week.  And not just #1.  I am at my wit's end.  Advice?

Charlie pic taken from this post on Danny's blog.

2.  Charlie, the guinea pig, is warming up to us.  I think he can somehow sense that Gabbers and I are girls;  he seems to like us better than the menfolk.

3.  The weather has been so nice here that I feel like eating Luigi's Real Italian Ice every single day.  I also feel like lounging around in the backyard while my kids run wild screaming "HELP!" while they're playing and concerning the neighbors. 

4.  I have a couple projects I'm going to do this week.  Danny doesn't know about them.  I may be away from the blog working on them.  I will take pictures. 

5.  My babies are almost 7 months old.  I figured it was about time to create a 72-hour kit for them. 

6.  The kids had loads of goodies yesterday as I updated 72-hour kits.

7.  I think it's a really good idea to update your 72-hour kits when you Spring Ahead and Fall Behind.  Another good idea, if you're LDS, and still a good idea even if you're not, is to update them during General Conference weekend twice a year.  Then your kids can eat the goodies while listening to great talks, scriptures, and Mormon Tabernacle Choir hymns.

8.  I always think the word choir is spelled wrong.  And seeing as I've misplaced my spellcheck button, it may very well be spelled wrong. 

9.  I've been working on a new 100 things list.  But it's hard to find 100 things about me that you don't know. 

10.  This week is Parent-Teacher Conference week at the elementary school.  Because of this grand occasion, every day is a half-day.  Personally I think that the state of California is l-a-z-y in the education department.  The budget cuts are causing the schooling to be sub-par and they are always finding excuses to have holidays and minimum days.  This particular elementary school is the best in the county.  Well, other than Pookieville Academy.  We are strongly leaning toward Pookieville Academy for the little people for next year.  It may undergo a name-change though.

11.  Happy Birthday JoAnn!

This post brought to you by: The nooks and crannies of my brain.

Sometimes, like every four or five years, I think it would be a really good idea if my house went up in flames and I got out safely with my family, my quilts, and my photographs.  Then I wouldn't have to pack it all up when it's time to move.  I  could claim it with the fire insurance and start over with a more simplistic life and not EVER accrue the clutter.

I am also entertaining illusions of grandeur of living on a grassy knoll with a lovely little four bedroom home planted right in the middle and outback you can find a cow and half a dozen chickens.  We can rest under the shady oak tree that someone planted 50 years ago and homeschool my kids in the lovely breezy afternoon. 

Or we could live in a mold-free home on the central west coast paying up the nose in rent.  But at least it will be mold-free.  hopefully.

Top 13 random confessions in honor of my parents' 37th anniversary.

13.  I hit a parked car and dented it while riding my bicycle once.
12.  I was sure I was going to hell for never telling the truth about that.
11.  Mom, I accidentally broke your little blue vase and then hid it in the bottom of the closet in the house on JFK street in England.
10.  I double-pierced my ears in 11th grade using an ice cube, a rubbing alcohol soaked cotton ball, and a sewing needle.
9.  I didn't confess about my own ears when you discovered Erin did it.  She took the blame.  It was her idea after all.
8.  I snuck out of the house at least once a week in the middle of the night in the summertime to go running through the sprinklers downtown (I was over 18).
7.  Rachel and I loaded our water guns and drove past people in downtown P.G. and shot at them.
6.  I used to change my clothes in the car while driving and apply make-up on my way to work from UVSC.
5.  I double-pierced my ears again (professionally this time) when I was nearly 19 and triple pierced the left one.  That hurt.  I let it close up after less than a week.
4.  I never drank.  Not a single drop.
3.  I did try to smoke a rolled up Reader's Digest once.  Erin's idea again.
2.  I balanced eggs once on the floor of Albertson's at midnight with my bff Alecia.
1.  I rode on a bullet bike without a helmet more than once.

Happy 37th Anniversary!  Aren't you glad I'm not a dumb kid anymore?

Out of milk. Fresh out of sanity.

You know what?  We are out of milk.  And you know why?  You know why I didn't pick up milk at Wal-Mart yesterday when I was running errands for five hours with the four oldest kids so Danny could have a well-deserved nap since he'd only have to take care of the babies? 

Wanna know WHY?  Because I am a mean old mommy who refused to buy the $1.00 box of Sour Patch Kids for Bun resulting in him screaming for 15 minutes.  FIFTEEN MINUTES.  Sure 15 minutes isn't a long time to peruse blogs or talk on the phone to your sister.  And FlyLady likes to say you can do anything for 15 minutes.  Well, she's right.  Bun apparently can SCREAM loud enough for people that are six aisles away to hear and poke their heads out and look for fifteen minutes. 

So what did I do?  I high-tailed it out of there.  I bought what was in my cart already:  a package of black t-shirts for Danny to wear under his flight suit, a few casual-ish shirts for me to wear to church and when dropping off kids at school so the other mommies don't think I'm a hobo, and the bag of pretzel sticks I picked out before entering the dreaded candy aisle. 

You know what other aisle I hate?  The cereal aisle.  There's always screaming in the cereal aisle.  And it's not always my children doing it.  I just nod knowingly to the other mean old mommies. 

Sometimes I think about telling my kids when they ask why they can't have something, "It's because I'm a mean old mommy.  I entered a pact with the other mommies when I became one that I would always say 'no' at the times you really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, want that box of [fill in the blank with sugar cereal or candy]."






P.S.  Danny thought I should add in Bun's defense, it was very late.  It was half an hour past his bedtime already.  But still . . .

All I heard was "retrieve the pictures blah, blah, blah"

One of my blogging goals this year is to post more pictures.  I started this blog shortly after the birth of my third child in 2005 because of a suggestion from my sister Leslie to keep my parents, Danny's parents and our siblings, up-to-date with clips of the children, funny things they say, and pictures.  It's morphed somewhat since then-- but remains mostly about that.  the kids.  and it's like an online journal for me.  I try to remind myself that regardless of whether or not people comment on my blog, it's for my parents and posterity.  and that's what matters. 

And yes, I am blogging again even though I have a looming to-do list and I have a Tater rolling around on a floor in need of vacuuming.  Judge all you want. 

Back to my point, the pictures.  I forgot AGAIN how to download or upload or install or retrieve or whatever the pictures from the camera or card-thing to the computer.  Well, I know that I turn off the camera.  Take out the little card.  Put it in the computer.  And then something pops up from there and I can't remember the rest. 

Attention deficit much?  I like to to tell myself it's lack of sleep.  The Zoloft is working.  I find myself unseasonably happy about the mundane.

My Tuesday to-do list for your viewing pleasure.

• Take Gabbers to school.
• Pick up Gabbers from school.
• Take Gabbers to Girl Scouts, along with her friend, and all five boys.
• Don't forget to take to Girl Scouts the 20 cut-out copies of each craft for the girls (after they are finished being cut out of course).  *Note to self:  Stop volunteering for things.
• Watch the cloudy meatball movie with the kids and return to the red box thing before 6 p.m.
• Have Gabbers and Pookie do homework before watching the movie. 
• Iron Gabbers achievement patch on her Daisies vest.
• Sew on Cub Scout patches onto Pookie's uniform.
• Plan something for Wednesday's lunch and playdate.  Go to store if necessary.
• Take picture for the WFMW post and post it in the evening.
• List it also with Tuesday Tips.
• Make a dental appointment for self. 
• Think happy, sugar-free thoughts.
• Try not to think about how fun it would be to play with my blog layout and background all day instead of doing the things on the list. 
• Oh yeah, feed Charlie.  (the guinea pig)

If you know the periodic table of elements, this post is too dumb for you.

This post is ALL about how to link in the comments section.

Have you ever seen someone link in the comments section?  I don't just mean that you clicked on their name because they talked about a similar post or because they were hilarious and you just had to meet them and you found your way through their three blogs to their main one.  No, I mean when someone says something and their comment looks kind of like this:

Nikki said...

This is a neat tip. I also recently wrote about freezing leftover veggies to save money back on my blog. This is the link if you're interested.  Nice to meet you!


Well, if you don't know how to do that yet, you are going to learn how now. I tried to explain this over the phone to my awesome sister Leslie, but I couldn't get over the fact that I didn't know the name of these symbols: 

> and < 

Leslie, you know the little greater than/less than alligator mouth signs?  The one that points open . . . hmm. . . well I mean, is pointing to the one direction. . . er . . . I know!  I'll just do a little tutorial on it and then you can access it until you have it memorized.  Voila!  A blog post was born. 

<a href=http://nikkianddanny.blogspot.com/2010/02/frugal-friday-freezing-savings.html>This is the link</a>

See the red part?  That < thingamajig followed by the a href and the = sign?  That starts the link.  I don't know the correct nerdle-jargon for it; but I know it works.  And then you paste in your link.  My example up there is to my most recent Frugal Friday post.  I pasted it just as it appears in the address bar of my web browser.  Then you end it with that little alligator mouth again going this direction.  >

Now you type in how you want it to appear in the comments section.  Like, I want it to just say, "This is the link."  So after that doo-dad you type in your wording of the part you want to link, ie.  This is my link.  Then you put the other alligator mouth going the other way like this with a forward slash, the letter "a" and the opposite alligator mouth.  </a>

So, once again, it should look something like this (I highlighted the parts in red that we're still learning.):

<a href=http://nikkianddanny.blogspot.com/2010/02/frugal-friday-freezing-savings.html>This is the link</a>

Yours might look like this as you're typing it into the comments section:

I would like to share my thoughts on the subject.  You can read them over here at my humble blog under the title  <a href=http://SweetandPatientmom.blogspot.com/2010/02/a-nicer-way-to-handle-your-gremlin.html>Kind words.</a>

(That's a totally fake link.  So don't expect it to work.  Seriously, someone calling themselves "Sweet and Patient Mom" wouldn't refer to their 2 year old as a gremlin.  Would they?)

I just know someone out there knows how to write this a little more, ahem, smarter sounding.  But it's not me.  And I needed a post.  And I promised my sister.  So, if there's anyone out there that understands  "Nikki-speak" better than they understand html-nerdle-jargon and is just beginning to learn the little tricks of blogging, may they find the answers here in Pookieville.  :)

Feel free to try it out in my comments section.  If it doesn't work and you want it deleted completely, just leave another comment requesting it.  Why?  Cuz I love you that much.

I will lose 300 lbs, stop referring to my children as "Demon Spawn", and floss.

I love to make New Year's Resolutions.  Last night we had a Family Home Evening in honor of the New Year.  We focused on New Year's Resolutions:  what a resolution is, why it's a good time to set them, and why Heavenly Father wants us to continually better ourselves.  Then we set a few as a family.  (Here's a cool FHE link.)

Now most of you know, since most of you are family, that I love to be green.  Sometimes I am more green than others- like when it means being green is being frugal.  Of course, you also know I have three in diapers right now.  I just cannot fathom the idea of washing 150 diapers a week.  So, I've been using disposable diapers lately, adding to the landfill, depleting my bank account.  I know, I know.  How very irresponsible of me!  I'm actually toying with the idea of switching back.  And those of you that have been waiting eons for my cloth diapering post, wait no more.  Someone else has done the work for me.  Her whole blog is about cloth diapering!  Now if only I could convince this total stranger to write the rest of The Twin Birth Story. 

link to the post I got this picture from

Anyhow, I was blog-hopping this morning and read Gurrbonzo's post about resolutions.  Since Gurrbonzo is very funny and I actually know her IN REAL LIFE, here's her link.  She talks about using only reusable grocery bags this year.  Since she is a fresh-out-of-law-school-lawyer and knows way more stuff than me, I've decided this is a good idea.  Of course, I use those disposable grocery bags to throw away stinky diapers and to line trash cans in our house.  So I don't know what to do.  I'm befuddled.  What would you do?  Would you switch to reusable bags and then buy trash bags?  Or do you just empty your trash cans into one large bin and not need trash bags at all?  Ideas?

Excellent Award!

Thank you Connie for this award! I am honored that you would think of me. For the blogs I would like to pass this award onto in alphabetical order, because I simply cannot list them in "no particular order" my OCDness prohibits it and I definitely cannot say who actually is the best because we are all winners, there are no losers, no bridesmaids, just brides, no 1st runners-up, all queens -- except you Morty and then maybe you're Mr. Congeniality... anyhow, I digress, the list:

1) Big Morty Says

2) Boys Under Construction

3) Gurrbonzo

4) Haddorkus

5) Marcy & Adam

6) Our Little Patch of Crazy

7) Pyles of Clutter

8) The Neighbor's Blog -- Neighbor Jane Payne

9) The Peanut Patch

10) The Summerill Surf

Here are the rules for passing it on…By accepting this Excellent Blog Award, you have to award it to 10 more people who’s blogs you find Excellent Award worthy. You can give it to as many people as you want but please award at least 10. Thank you out there for having such great blogs and being such great friends! You deserve this! Feel free to award people who have already been awarded.

Cinnamon Raisin Bread

Bread dough, cinnamon-sugar mixture, melted butter, and raisins.
Poking the raisins into the dough.
The raisin-filled dough rolled out into a rectangle-ish shape.

Butter with cinnamon-sugar mixture on top.

Rolled up and in the prepared bread pan.

This is what happens when you're busy making cinnamon raisin bread and taking pictures.

The cinnamon raisin dough with plastic wrap waiting patiently to rise.

The recipe has been adjusted. Here are more appropriate portions of butter and raisins.

1 loaf’s worth of your favorite bread dough
2 tbsp. Butter (¼ cube)
4 teaspoons (tsp. or t.) cinnamon
4 tbsp. sugar
1/3 to ½ C. raisins

1. Melt the butter or margarine.

2. Poke raisins throughout the dough, knead them in, poke in some more.

3. Roll out dough into a rectangle no wider than the length of your loaf pan.

4. Spread the melted butter all over the dough.

5. Mix the cinnamon and sugar together and then evenly sprinkle it on over the butter. Do not taste it. The cinnamon-sugar mixture will be far too cinnamon-y for your taste buds right now but perfect for baking into bread.

6. Carefully roll up the dough and place in prepared bread pan.

7. Cover with plastic wrap that has been sprayed with non-stick spray or oil. Let rise about 30 minutes in a warm, draft-free place.

8. Bake as usual.

9. Remove bread from pan immediately after baking.

10. Cool bread one hour before slicing. Enjoy!