Just another day in paradise....

In February we went van shopping and ended up getting a 2012 Chrysler Town and Country. I fell in love with it on our first over-night test drive. Leather seats, DVD player, back-up camera, Blue-tooth, and ambience lighting. AND Stow-and-Go seating in the middle and back rows. No other van offers that (except its' cheaper version Dodge Grand Caravan). It was amazing. All my Honda Odyssey friends told me that if we wanted a good van we needed to go with the Odyssey. We test drove several Odysseys but they just couldn't compete with the Town and Country. Besides, our previous van was a 2003 Chevy Venture--kind of a piece of crap (although we loved it and I almost cried when we traded it in. True story). We never had to do any major repairs on it (probably less than $1,000 over the 9 years we owned it). So surely a Chrysler would be just fine. Right? 

Since February we have put over 14,000 miles on it! It has been wonderful and comfortable for our crazy cross-country trips! We got over 28 mpg as we drove to PA. 

And then it started shaking. At first we barely noticed it, but after a few weeks there was no doubt that something was wrong. Luckily, we are still under the factory warranty. . . but not for long. So we took it in over the weekend to have it looked at and two of the gasket heads were leaking pretty badly. I googled it and everything, but I still don't really know what it means, except that I do not think a car with 34,000 miles should be having problems.

I'm kind of embarrassed to tell all of my Honda friends. I really, really hope they aren't right. :) 

Also, I'm happy to have it back. 

My house is a complete disaster. There is not a single clean room. I've reached the mess threshold, though. It's really fun. Ask my family. Hah. Here's an example of what happens: I pick up the office (or ask the kids to pick it up), then I go upstairs and get the playroom clean. I come down and find that there's a fort in the office. I tell them to clean it up. I go upstairs and all the play food, cars, and batman toys are all over the floor. I tell everyone to pick it up. I have come to the conclusion that the kids also like clean spaces because that is where they go to make a mess. AGH!! Crazy Mom! Signs of independence are everywhere. . . jelly spills in the fridge, banana peels, bread crumbs and Nutella knives on the counter. Evidence of Ammon's three different outfits (which he chose and changed by himself) ...because he spilled water and was all wet. Just another day in paradise, right?

So today I told Madison she WOULD clean her room. And then I went in to help her and started throwing stuff away, which started the wild-cry about how much she LOVED her stuffed bunny and this dirty old fake-canvas bag. It was finally clean (enough). . . and then I walked in an hour later and found FOUR board games spread out over her carpet. It was a stressful morning for all of us.

Luckily we were all in a better mood after quiet time, and we went swimming with some friends. Somehow the idea of Pho (a Vietnamese soup) came up and I could not stop thinking about it. So when Joe came home (with the van--YAY!) I suggested we go out Pho dinner (did you catch that--haha!). Even the kids enjoyed it. I felt very spontaneous--which is exciting for me because I am about the least spontaneous person in the world.

Anyway, when you get Pho, they bring out a side of herbs and vegetables that you can put in the soup--things like mint, bean sprouts, cilantro, and some sort of hot pepper. Logan was kind of playing with the hot pepper and Joe dared him to eat it in exchange for 2 hours on the computer. Computer time is a big deal at our house; it is earned and hard to come by. The deal was Logan had to keep it in his mouth for 10 seconds. Logan decided it was a good deal, so he stuck it in the side of his cheek. When Joe got to 10, Logan surprised us both and started chomping down on the pepper. Joe and I were like, "WHOA!" Then Logan's eyes got huge and he spit it out and started shoving ice into his mouth. He looked like he was going to throw up, and then he spit the ice out and ran for the bathroom. Joe went in to check on him, and Logan came out physically and visibly shaking. We all gave him our ice water and the rest of some stir-fry rice the kids had been sharing. He drank four waters in no more than two minutes. He kept shaking. It seemed to get a little better when he had a fortune cookie; he said his mouth had cooled down but his lips were still burning.

By the time we got in the car he was saying, "Oh yeah!" and high-fiving Joe. Boys. They are crazy.

Anxiety Part II

Shortly after Joe and I were married (12 years ago-wow!) I started taking 21-22 credits (of English classes!) a semester and working 20-30 hours a week. Joe was also taking a ton of credits and working 3 jobs and 30+ hours a week. We both had scholarships and had to keep our grades up to keep them. Our lives were crazy. I got to a point where I couldn't sleep because all I could do at night was think, think, think. And I was always tired and lethargic because I was so busy and not getting any sleep. I didn't realize it at the time, but I look back now and call those my bad years. I have NO desire to ever live in Rexburg again because of the craziness! I went to the doctor to try to figure out what was wrong and after talking to her for a while she said she thought I had anxiety.

Great. Not really what you want to hear when you are looking for reasons why you are tired and can't sleep. But after researching and learning about anxiety disorders, it also made a lot of sense. Basically, I get overwhelmed really easily. It becomes hard to complete tasks because I'm afraid or I don't know how to start. Being successful at whatever it is I do is really important to me, and that factors into the anxiety, too.

Over the years my life has not only become less crazy (well. . . we have added 4 crazies, but I'm not juggling school and work plus a baby), but I have learned how to keep the anxiety under control--for the most part. Some tricks I have learned include focusing on one thing at a time and planning how to accomplish the task, and then of course, following through. Lots of to-do lists.

Sometimes, though, you can't focus on one thing at a time--like if there are several events happening one after the other. Then you have to focus on them all and plan for them all. That is when the anxiety comes back.

Take this week... family coming into town (SOO excited about this, but that means feeling like my house has to look magazine clean and organized and menus planned and food bought ahead of time), Madison's baptism on Saturday (need to buy a ribbon and make a collage of her life), and school starting on Monday. For some reason everything all together is really overwhelming--even though I already have a lot of it ready. The rest of her outfit is ready, all the school supplies are bought, we have school clothes, and I am ready for everyone to go to school! But then I think. . . hair cuts, lunch supplies (should I buy new thermos's or just get juice boxes?).... I know to most people this isn't overwhelming, but for some reason it is to me. Also, it makes me irritable. . . so if you have to be around me when I'm worrying about something, I'm sorry. :)

And then, by chance, two different people asked me about teaching piano lessons today. That caused even more anxiety because I'm struggling just to teach my own kids piano--something that is really important to me! And that started a round of thinking about all of my own inadequacies and things I need to improve. No--I think I need to feel on top of what I already have going on before I start trying to take on more to do.

Luckily I have also learned some tricks to shutting off my brain at night. I need about an hour of mindless tv or reading in bed. And if that still doesn't work, then I have a book on my ipod (The Misadventures of Maude March) that I listen to with ear buds when I can't sleep. I don't think I have ever gotten past the second chapter.

And apparently blogging is another way to get it all sorted out. :) So wish me good luck this week, and tell me I'm not crazy!

Call Me Maybe

It's been a crazy week--birthdays, birthday parties, play dates, family dates, getting ready for school.

I sat down with the kids for a few minutes to go over address and phone numbers. Logan and Madison have that info down, but Grant is still practicing. So I asked Grant if he knew my phone number.

Grant: "Oh yeah, Mom."

Mom: "What is it?"

Grant: "Oh, 1-900-...."

Mom: "Wait Wait Wait a second here. Don't tell people that!!!"

It looks like we have some work to do around here! 

In other news, Grant has been doing a lot of writing lately. Another getting ready for kindergarten thing, I guess. Sometimes he just puts a bunch of letters together and asks me what it spells. I sound it out, and it might sound like, "pbtks." "No mom, that's not a word!" Ok, then. He's been getting better at sounding out words and trying to get some sounds that make up real words. 

So today he wrote me a letter. I couldn't figure it out. . . but apparently it said that Logan thought he was the man of the house and he bossed everyone around and that Grant wanted to make sure I knew that Logan was not the man of the house. The only thing I could read is "the" on the first line and "damn"  right there in the middle. I'm not sure what he was really trying to say, but *dang* that made me laugh!

And finally, I'm starting to get a little bit worried about what Ammon is going to do when everyone goes off to school and he is stuck with just me all day. I tried to talk about it with him a few days ago, and it ended in some denial crying. He asks us every day if he can go to school and when we tell him no, he  can go when he is 5, he says, "I five! I go to school!" He has a cute little backpack and when it's time for everyone to do some homework (yah, I'm that mean summer mom) he pulls out a Peter Pan coloring book and some crayons from his backpack and announces that he's doing his homework.

The End.

Madison's Birthday Post

Hey everyone! This is Madison!

Q: How old are you?
A: 8

Q: What is your favorite thing to do:
A: Be with my family

Q:What is your favorite color?
A: Rainbow

Q: What is your favorite food?
A: jiao zi, mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, and cold cereal

Q: What is your first memory:
A: Dropping clothes down the laundry chute in Cleveland. Sometimes I would drop toys. That was fun.

Q: What is your favorite vacation?
A: Going to visit family.

Q:What are you good at?
A: Well, I'm good at drawing, running, reading books. Sometimes I don't listen to my parents because I'm reading books.

Q: Oooh! What's your favorite book?
A: That's a hard question to answer! Probably The Boxcar Children right now. 

Q: What do you want to be when you grow up?
A: A missionary for my church. Then I want to be a piano teacher, and if I have kids I want to be their teacher.

Q: What is your favorite song to play on the piano?
A: "I Know that my Savior Loves Me" and "Book of Mormon Stories"

Q: What is your favorite thing about growing up?
A: I get to learn how to do new things and get better and smarter every day. 

Q: What are some goals you have this year?
A: Be nice to my brothers, pray every night, practice piano, make friends, learn how to cook macaroni and cheese by myself. From a box.

Q: What is your favorite toy?
A: I got a doll for my birthday that is like the American Girl Dolls. I named her Scarlett. I got that name because my mom read "Gone with the Wind" and I liked the movie. Also, her clothes are scarlet. 

Q: What is your favorite movie?
A: Star Wars. All of them. 

Well, Madison, thanks for your time and happy birthday! We sure are lucky to have you in our family!

Headachy Day

The day is almost over, but I wanted to write a few memories down first. They are uncomfortable memories for people to hear, I think--the kind of information that leaves people wondering just what they should say. I apologize for making you uncomfortable, but it's ok.

August 13, 2004 was the day my brother, Ben, was killed in a car accident. We will never know exactly what happened that day, but he ran a stop sign and was hit by a van as he crossed the intersection.

On this day I always think about what I was doing the night before. We had just moved into married student housing at BYU and Joe had just started law school. Logan was having a hard time sleeping through the night, and we had gone outside the apartment to look at stars and to escape from the baby crying for just a few minutes. I had wanted to call my family that night, but knew they were camping at the county fair and wouldn't be home to answer my call. I decided not to call because the only person home would be Ben, and I didn't have anything to talk about with him. I will probably never stop regretting that decision.

The next morning Joe got up early to take a shower. I guess the phone had been ringing, but I hadn't heard it. He came in to tell me that my mom was on the phone. I faked a cheery "I'm awake!" voice and said, "Hey Mom!" She sounded tired and said, "Honey, I need to talk to you. Ben was in a car accident last night." "Oh. Well, he's all right, right?" "No honey, he died."

When someone dies unexpectedly you go through a stage of denial. They must be wrong. How could something change so suddenly? How could it possibly be true?

Gradually you come to accept it, and accept that your life will never be the same, but you get used to a new life, so to speak--one in which this is what happened and you don't know any different.

But you never stop wondering what if. . . what if I had been able to talk to Ben that night? What if he was still alive? Would he have kids? Where would he live? What would he be doing?

Ironically, when I allow myself to think about Ben and remember and feel. . . I think about how a lot of the last memories I had of him had to do with death.

I remember how my parents' dog was hit by a car near their home, my sister running barefoot and sobbing as she hugged the dog on the side of the road, and Ben driving in his white truck to pick up the dog and and take Rene home.

How he asked Joe and me to stop walking on the side of the busy road with Logan in a stroller because he feared that we would be hit by a speeding car.

We were only 15 months apart--meaning we were at times best friends, and other times biggest competitors. When we moved to Pennsylvania our two zebra finches died. We buried them in a McDonald's Happy Meal box and made a parade and banged on some sort of homemade drum as we marched around the house and mourned for those birds.

He was at times the protective brother who dared to tell me not to date boys he thought would not respect me.

Joe and I spent the summer in between undergrad and law school in PA, and Ben wanted to take 8 month old Logan with him everywhere. . . to the mall, to his friends' homes, on walks. I think it made Ben popular with the girls. He bought Logan a few outfits, which I still have and am saving to pass down to the next person in the family with a boy.

He helped us move our crazy heavy piano so that we could carry it across the country. When I told him over the phone that I was giving piano lessons, he asked how much I was charging, and then told me I needed to be charging more because I was so qualified.

I remember him cleaning cars and riding on tractors and dancing in the kitchen to country music.

I remember crying when it was his turn to drive because the rule was that the driver got to choose the music, and I hated country music.

I remember that after his funeral my dad got out some firecrackers he had found stashed in some of Ben's things--and we lit those things off and we celebrated his life.

Even though today has been a headachy day, I take comfort in this scripture in Mosiah 16:7-8

7. And if Christ had not risen from the dead, or have broken the bands of death that the grave should have no victory, and that death should have no ^asting, there could have been no resurrection.

 8 But there is a ^aresurrection, therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of ^bdeath is swallowed up in Christ.

I don't have time to write much more down tonight, but one thing I learned after this was how people mourn with those who mourn. Our friends didn't ask what they could do--they just did. They ironed our funeral clothes, painted the porch, and got the house ready for visitors from across the country. I have so much more to remember about those days, but I need to go to bed. 

Suffice it to say that I know that the sting of death can be swallowed up in Christ. I'm thankful for the knowledge I have that families can be together forever. One of these days we are going to have a grand union. 

It's the Most Emotional Time of the Year

Two weeks until school starts. TWO WEEKS. This is the time I start feeling emotional.

I feel crazy as I look around my sticky, fort-covered, toy cluttered house.

I feel grateful when I realize that in two weeks we will get back on a schedule and the house will hopefully get back to normal.

I feel nervous when I remember I'm going to have to start getting up early. Like 5:30 a.m. early.

I feel sleep-deprived when I think of Joe getting up at 4:30 a.m.

I feel sad when I think of my kids spending the majority of their time away from home.

I feel excited that a new school year brings new experiences and growth.

My heart feels flip-floppy when I realize that I'm only going to have one baby at home with me.

I feel anxious that we didn't do enough this summer; learn enough, play enough, laugh enough, dance enough, love enough.

I feel happy that we got to travel a lot and see family this summer.

I feel lost when I think of the kids growing up.

I feel like celebrating about fall and cooler weather and fun holidays.

I feel like crying when I think about Grant leaving me to start kindergarten.

I feel relief that we have time to work on perfection.

Daddy Saves the Day

Two Christmas's ago we bought Madison a fish tank, and a few weeks later we went with her to pick out some fish. A few months after that we went back to get a fish to help keep the fish tank clean. We were told to get a miniature catfish. Since then we have "killed" about 4 fish, but this little catfish has been around for almost the whole time. We have 4 little fish in the 5 gallon tank right now--and Madison changes their names every time you ask what their names are. That's how much we love them.

It looks like this (I'm too lazy to get up and take a real picture):

Anyway. A few days ago we were getting ready to say our evening family prayer when Logan yells, "Hey guys! You gotta' come in here!" He said it in an excited voice, so we thought it was good. "We don't want to get up, Logan, just tell us what it is!" "No! You need to see it for yourselves!"

Madison went in and started crying hysterically. So we get off our lazy bums to see what's going on, only to find that the fish had jumped out of the tank, which looks like this:

Don't hate on me, but I don't really like animals. I took a paper towel and poked the fish. It didn't move. I said something like, "I'm sorry Madi. I think it's gone." She cried louder. Joe, who appreciates animals 1000x more than I do, picked the fish up and commented that it was pretty dry and that we had found him too late. Then he held the fish super close to his eyes and said, "Wait a minute. I think he's trying to breathe." So he gently tipped the fish back in the tank. We watched it fall down to the bottom. And then a funny thing happened. . . we saw its gills (or whatever that part is by the mouth) start to move. Then it flipped itself the right way. There was an audible sigh of relief and some cheering, too.

That was last Monday, I think, and even though it took a while for him to start moving, the fish is still alive! Hopefully a little smarter, too. Don't Jump!!

The Birds and the Hornets

Somehow hornets have been getting into our house--3 in the past 24 hours. The kids have been freaking out, putting rooms in quarantine and researching the pests on google.com.

How long do hornets live?
What do hornets eat?

My idea was to try and ignore them and hope that somehow they disappeared.

For some reason the kids weren't satisfied with that.

Logan came up with the idea to just leave them alone and hope they starved to death when they couldn't find live plants to eat in the house. And anyway, they only live like 12 days. . .

Then he asked the question: Mom--do hornets get married?

Me (a little distracted with other things): Ah, no, only people get married.

Logan (distressed): Then my plan won't work because they'll just keep having babies and their babies will have babies and it will become a hornet house.

Me: Well they can't have babies by themselves, so that's not a problem because I only see one right now and it's probably a boy.

Logan: But you said they don't get married, so they don't need anyone else to have babies.

Me (realizing he was talking about sex): Ummm... well, you can have sex and have babies without being married. Humans are supposed to get married before they have sex, but animals and insects don't have to follow those rules.

Logan: Oh. Um. So do you think the hornet can have babies?

Me: Only if it has sex. Do you want to talk about it?

Logan: Um, that's ok. How are you going to get rid of it?

I sucked that bugger up with the vacuum cleaner.

My Psalm, circa 2009

As you know, I'm in a class right now that forces me to do quite a bit of writing. I forget how much I enjoy writing until I actually force myself to write regularly. (By the way, my grade right now is a 100%. Ka-chow.) I'm taking the class in order to keep my teaching certificate up to date--something I have to renew every 5 years. So, procrastinator that I am--the last time I did this was shortly after Joe got laid off from his job 4 years ago. I took a Bible as Literature class (which was absolutely fantastic, by the way). I have been reading through some of the stuff I did back then, which has been fun. I came across a Psalm I wrote for one of my assignments and thought I would share.

Keep in mind, this was the summer that Joe went to Dallas without me to study and take the Texas Bar and to start networking. I stayed in Cleveland with all the kids while trying to sell our home. It is interesting to me that only 4 years later I can see some of the blessing from the trials and understand why things had to be the way they were. Ironically, I believe I will be writing about this soon for the Personal History class I am taking now, and I will probably end up sharing it when I do. But for now, here is: 

Jennifer's Psalm

O Lord, I am human.

One minute grateful for the infinite blessings

Thou has bestowed upon my family,

And in the same breath

Anxious, angry, scared.

I remember the ways

Thou hast prepared my family

For the trials and unknown before us,

And then I doubt thy continued blessings to come.

I pray for faith in thee

To carry us over this river.

I pray for strength from thee

As we conquer this new battle.

Bless me to be as the widow of Zarephath,

That I may give what I have,

And be similarly rewarded.

May I be as Jacob of old,

Give us bread to eat,

Raiment to put on.

For thou art my God.

the little things that make life sweet

We have been looking for a library book for weeks. I mean looking everywhere. I was ready to just go pay the fee so we could start checking books out again. In a last-ditch effort I suggested everyone pray and look one more time. Little Ammon—just 2 years old—sat down and on his own said, “Hevly Fadder, pease hep me find mine book. Jesus Chis, amen.” I hugged him and went into the boys’ room. It was (and still is) a mess! I tidied up their bookshelf and pushed in the baskets. I noticed Ammon’s diaper basket and wondered if it was empty, as he has not worn diapers for a few months. I pulled it out and surprise of surprises! Poncho Rabbit and the Coyote was in there! The kids and I celebrated, Logan suggested we say a prayer of thanksgiving, and I pointed out that Heavenly Father had heard Ammon’s prayer, and that something as small as a library book was worth His time and help.

We finally finished Where the Red Fern Grows. Most everyone shed a few tears.

Then I noticed that Grant’s shorts were looking a little funny. They were Ammon’s 18-month pants!! He didn’t appreciate the laughs and wouldn’t let me take a picture.

So…. tears, laughs, and a prayer answered. It’s been a good day!

Ah yeah, I have a lot of catching up to do. But here are the kids down on the farm in PA. They were always begging Grandpa to take them for a ride. Don't worry, he didn't drive them all around at the same time. We just thought it would be a cute picture. 

The Plan that Backfired

I have two months worth of vacationing and awesome experiences to catch up on, but this story started yesterday.

The kids built 3 tepees yesterday afternoon and asked if they could sleep in them overnight. I decided that since it was a summer night it would be a fine thing to do. In fact, why stop at a teepee sleepover? How about a late night movie? So the kids stayed up late watching episodes of Gilligan's Island and fell asleep on the floor in their teepees.

Now might be a good time to interject that this is not the first time the kids have had similar sleepovers. Mommas don't learn.

Joe and I stayed up late ourselves (darn that LOST show), and as we walked through the playroom at 12:30 a.m. we laughed and whispered how cute they were spread out on the floor.

2:00 a.m. Grant started crying. That woke Ammon up, who started crying. Then Madison woke up and grumpily announced that she was going back to bed. Logan is the only one who spent the entire night in his teepee.

They all got up at 6:00 a.m. Joy.

After lunch, I declared an official nap-time for everyone. Ammon is the only one who slept.

Fast-forward 5 hours. We got invited to go swimming with some friends and everything was going well. I had some enchiladas in the fridge, ready to be thrown in the oven when we got home. The kids were happy to be with friends and were showing off their swimming skills. And then:

Grant threw a water toy in the pool and it hit Madison on the head.

Madison started crying. I asked Grant to put down the other toys he was about to throw so that he could apologize to Madison.

A whining, crying, shouting match ensued.

Grant: Madison tried to drown me!
Madison: No I didn't! Grant hurt me! He did it on purpose!
Mom: Grant, let's go sit down until you can stop crying.
Grant: NOOOOO! I WANT TO PLAY IN THE WATER.
Grant: Nope, we're not going to act like that. Stop crying or we are going home.
Grant: NOOOO! I'm NOT going home!!
Mom: OK everyone, time to go.

Lots of whining and gnashing of teeth.
In the car: very loud screaming and crying and insulting

As soon as we got home I instructed everyone to get their pajamas on and get to the table for dinner. I did not want to wait 40 minutes for the food to cook so I gave them bread and butter, watermelon, and milk. It was supposed to be a punishment, but instead they asked, "Is this our supper? You mean we aren't going to eat enchiladas? YES!! Thanks Mom! Best supper ever!"

Grrrrr.

Let's not forget this conversation:
Grant: (out of control crying) Mom, can I please sleep in your bed?
Mom: What? You are 5. You sleep in your bed.
Grant: WHAT? But I don't want to run away. And I'm afraid that if I sleep in my bed I'm going to run away and that will be so scary and I DON'T WANT TO RUN AWAY!!!!! 

So I sent them to bed and ate my enchiladas in peace.

Lessons:

• It's all fun and games to let your kids stay up late watching movies. . . . until someone doesn't get enough sleep.
• Don't expect your kids to sleep well if they decide to camp out in their homemade teepees or forts.
• If you decide to let them do it anyway, go to bed earlier so that you can get some sleep so that you can deal with them the next day.
•  If you want to punish your kids for unacceptable behavior, make them eat the food you prepared for dinner.

Why Joseph McGregor is the smartest man alive

This post is all about me.

Yes, even though today is that day I celebrate the 12th year of my union with Jennifer, it's all about me. After all, it was I who saw, 12 years ago, that beautiful young woman. And it was I who, after seeing that beautiful babe, strategically put into place a cunning plan of action to make her mine. War waged; I was victorious.

I was smart enough to peer into the future. I saw that Jennifer had excellent communication skills that would help her navigate those times when we might disagree. I saw that she had amazing vision (not literally--her eyesight is atrocious) that would help her achieve important life goals. I saw that she had incredible patience--anyone spending more than about 3 minutes with me needs it.

My infinite wisdom also recognized her deep grasp of Pearl S. Buck. She objectively tackled social issues like gender inequality from many different angles. And I appreciated her fiscal restraint in preferring a thin band of gold over a gaudy engagement ring.

Finally, I was smart enough to understand how great of a mother she would be. Genetically, I saw that hers would be beautiful babies, beautiful enough to overcome even my genes. Spiritually I knew she would be an excellent guide. And I knew she would be proactive and never let the TV raise our kids. (Also, I knew she would be insanely cute as she shook her tushie during JUST DANCE KIDS.)

So I take this opportunity to gloat--to indulge in my brilliance and admire the craft in my decision-making. I picked the perfect wife. The perfect mother. God's choicest daughter. My wife, Jennifer "Metamucil" McGregor.

Happy Anniversary, my dear.