Is This Is a Mid-Life Crisis?

I'm not sure, but I might be approaching a mid-life crisis.  In the last week I’ve experienced hot flashes, the inability to wear high heels and to top it all off I broke out into some weird hive-like rash which has caused the left half of my body to itch like crazy.  I think it might  be psychosomatic.  Because I just realized that in five years all my children will have left my home.  FIVE YEARS PEOPLE!!  

Five years ago we were just settling in for a cozy fall with all six of our off spring nestled safely in the Morgan Hacienda.  Our oldest was preparing to leave for a mission, two were in high school, two in middle school and we still had an elementary school student.  Recess and hot lunch were daily parts of our vocabulary. We guzzled 13 gallons of milk a week and consumed four boxes of cereal in the same amount of time.  Every night all eight of us knelt down for prayers.  (Ok, who am I kidding, it was more like every other night but still!)  Sunday mornings after some nagging, exasperated sighs, and last minute ironing I could look down our church pew and see six Morgan children attempting (and failing) to stay awake through the service.

Five years was not that long ago.

I can’t help but think that these next five years are going to fly by.  Currently more than half of our children (because I include our daughters in law as children) live outside the home.  Four are in Utah, one serving the Lord in Maine.  The house is quieter—everyone is plugged in listening to Hamilton and I find myself watching a lot more Dateline and pondering next steps.  And itching—what is UP with this itching???

But then I think, this is what life’s about, right?  This is what we have these children for—to raise them up to one day fly the coop.  And give us grandchildren.  Lots and lots of grandchildren.  And so, now I’m spending a lot of my quiet days thinking about what I want my life to look like five years from now.  I don’t have any answers but I do see lots of possibilities.  Traveling with Dave, volunteering, writing, speaking, and snuggling grandkids.  (Did I mention about the grandchildren?)

Some days I miss reading bedtime stories and listening to the sound of Nick Jr.  I miss when parenting made sense to me instead of the constant balancing act of trying to parent teens and young adults.  I miss a full dinner table, nursery rhymes and when the time out chair was all the leverage I needed.  But I also really love now.  I love new daughters in law, and the freedom to go out to lunch every day, and grown up conversations with all of my children and watching the fine people they are becoming.  And let’s not forget the grandchildren possibility.

But the itching?  I’m so over that.

Today I Will Find Joy

Today I will find joy.  Today I will count my blessings, smile more, appreciate all that is right in my world.  I don't know about you, but lately I've been finding myself worrying too much.  Like Olympic size worrying.  Are my children happy? Will they turn in their homework, will they make good choices, find good friends, learn to iron, for heaven's sake?

Will Dave hear soon about his book, will planning a wedding (!) stress me out, will I be a good booster president/wife/mother/servant of the Lord???  Will my new diet and exercise plan get results, will I learn to be more patient, will my carpets ever get cleaned?

Do I need to be nicer (yes), do I stay up too late (again, yes), do I need more healthy food and less Oreos (sadly, yes)?  How will Davis finish his Eagle Scout stuff, how will our new budget work, how can my children develop confidence,  how will I make "all my wildest dreams come true" (Napoleon Dynamite style)?  What ARE my wildest dreams even???

It's exhausting!  Like crazy making.  I've found it's too easy to let all the anxiety ridden "wills, dos, and hows" creep into my psyche and rob me of all the joy that is in my very, very blessed life.

So today I'll be thankful for my husband who has cleaned the kitchen every day for the last two weeks!  (Seriously, I don't know what to do with myself--it's awesome).  I'll be grateful that my six crazy kids genuinely like each other, in spite of their differences or maybe because of them.  I'll enjoy lunch out, a good book, the chance to serve others, a quiet house, a healthy (not perfect) body, and the sound of the rain on my roof.

Because I am blessed.  You are blessed and God is good.

Advice From a Parenting Expert

I was recently asked to submit an article for a website called: Power of Moms.  I believe I mentioned them in my last post, but basically it's a great, free site, that focuses on "deliberate motherhood."    But it's been challenging for me to write an article for the site because I keep thinking, "what do I know?"  And then I realized, that I had this misguided notion that people who write about or teach about or give talks about motherhood are somehow perfect--that they have perfect families with kids that are always well behaved who always make the best choices.  Or I thought that they must be the type of moms who always speak with a soft tone and whose children hug them goodbye every time they leave the house (or something equally June Cleaver-like.)  Then it hit me--wouldn't I want parenting advice from someone who actually understood what I was going through?  Who best to help other moms in challenging situations than a mom who has lived it?  And let me tell you, I've lived it alright.

So with that in mind here are some things that as a mom I do know:

1.  As a good friend told me recently, "Don't compare your family's 'Behind the Scenes Story' to another family's 'Highlights Reel.'  That seems so obvious and yet we do it.  All.The.Time.  Someone at church once said to me that they wished they had a perfect family like mine.  I literally laughed out loud.  I do not have a perfect family.  You do not have a perfect family.  Let's keep that in mind shall we?

2.  If you don't set limits with your children at a young age, you are in for a world of hurt at an older age.  Believe me, it's much easier to control the actions of a 5 year old than it is the actions of a 17 year old.  So when you have put your preschooler on timeout for the 5th time that day for talking back, stick to your guns.  It's making you crazy now but it will save your sanity later.

3.  To avoid going completely nuts when you have teenagers you must learn to not let their moods affect your moods.  As one of my favorite parenting authors says, "keep their wind out of your sails." Seriously.  That idea was a life saver to me.  Teens will be moody.  Often.  If you let your attitude be affected by their attitudes you're in for a world of hurt.  It was tough enough being a teen when I was one--I don't want to relive it 6 more times.

4.  Take time to focus on the good in your children.  Too often it's easy to get caught up in all they are not doing versus the other way around.  Maybe their room looks like a bomb went off and they forget to take out the trash but aren't you glad that they keep their curfew, are kind to their siblings, and notice when you actually cook dinner?  One of the best things I ever did while in the middle of a challenging parenting time was to make a list of all the troubling things my child was doing and then a list of all the great things they were doing.  The first column had a grand total of 5 items.  The 2nd? 26!  And yet I was spending all of my time fixated on those 5 negative ones.  Look for the positive.

5.  Give yourself a break.  I mean this literally as well as figuratively.  Every Monday I go to lunch.  By myself.  It's my time to eat tacos and read a book and get myself recharged for the week ahead.  While I'm doing that it's a reminder to me that as a mom, I don't have to perfect--I just have to try my best and trust that in the end, things will work out.

Motherhood is so very hard but I wouldn't trade it for the world.  Most days:)

Embracing Imperfection

My original goal when I started this blogging adventure was to find a way to be held accountable for trying to get myself and the kids organized.  I think that was a noble goal but I've realized that all that's really come out of it is that I'm starting to realize that I'm a little bit (maybe even a lot) crazy.  Every night I lay awake thinking about all the things left on my to-do list and I can't figure out why I can't seem to get on top of them.  It doesn't seem like it should be that difficult and yet, it is.

Have you heard that story about the grasshopper and the ant? Basically it defines two types of people.  Lousia Plummer, a modern day author had a unique take on the story.  First, there is the ant who is an industrial, hard working soul.  The ant's home is always tidy.  Her children eat home cooked meals every night, never have to scrounge through the sock basket for two socks that match and  every evening their homework is done, piano practicing is complete and all 12 of them are in bed on time. (Or something like that.)

Then there is the grasshopper.  The grasshopper is the opposite of the ant.  Her house is messy but that's because she's neck deep in finger painting with her toddler, baking bread for a sick neighbor and writing the script for the upcoming school play.

The moral of this modern day story is that even though the grasshopper and the ant are different--they both have a lot to offer and neither one is "better" than the other one.  I really love that idea and I've spent a lot of time thinking about which one I am and I've come to the conclusion that I'm neither.  I'm a gnat.  You know--those little bugs that are easily distracted, attracted to the light and seem to congregate over a recently shampooed head of hair?  Case in point:

This morning I headed out to the gym with two goals in mind.  First, I needed a work out.  Secondly, I had a Weight Watchers meeting to lead in a couple of hours and I still hadn't prepared so I thought I could kill two birds with one stone and burn a bunch of calories on the eliptical while studying up for my job.  This was a good plan that went completely out the window when I walked by the aerobics room and heard some funky music playing which sounded like a whole lot more fun than the original plan.  So, like one of those pesky gnats drawn to light I made a bee line for "Belly Fit."

Now, if you have not had the pleasure of experiencing "Belly Fit" I will explain.  Its sort of like a cross between aerobics and yoga with a whole lot of flower child, mumbo jumbo thrown in.  I'm really not the new age type but like I said, it had some funky music that was calling to me.  So there I was, "throwing my earth fireball" and "stirring my pot of energy" (I am not making that up) and thinking about why I can't seem to get my act together.  This went on for the next hour and the whole time I'm trying to "unleash my inner goddess" I'm thinking, "forget the inner goddess I just want to know why does an organized life seem to elude me?"  What is the solution?  And then, as I lay on the floor at the end of my work out (you know it's a good class when you get to practically take a nap at the end) I  got in touch with my "heart center", "embraced my imperfection" and attempted to accept it.

I'm probably not ever going to have a perfectly clean house.  It's not going to be look like it came out of a home decorator magazine.  There, I said it.  The chances of that happening are pretty much nil--unless I get a live in housekeeper.  Which I'm like 99.9% sure will never happen.  And I'm going to have to be ok with that.  My life is busy--and not just busy but full.  Full of kids and teenagers, and band boosters and church assignments, and service and work and dates and Baja Fresh.  And happiness.  A whole lot of happiness:-)

I'm not giving up--I'm just going to try to not be so hard on myself.  There's loads of room for improvement --but I'm going to try to be ok with small gains--like matched socks--instead of a complete overhaul.  And who knows?  Maybe all those small gains will add up--to a whole laundry room full of folded clothes.  In the meantime maybe stirring my pot of energy wasn't a bad way to spend my morning after all.  I'll get in touch with my happiness chakra and get back to you.


P.S. I know you've all been kept up at night worrying about that smell in my den.  I know I was--I had visions of dead rats or raccoons or worse under my floorboards.  Dave, being the manly man that he is braved the crawl space and happily reported that there was nothing under there.  In the end, it ended up being our surge protector--how weird is that?  Jordan figured it out--he came in, took one smell and said it smelled like moldy electronics.  (How he knows what the smells like, I have no idea) but there you have it.  $24 later we had a new cord and the smell was gone.

The Calm Before the Storm

As I sit here at the computer I was struck by how peaceful I actually feel for a minute.  The house is quiet with only two of the six here, dinner is cooking on the stove, the house is clean (alright--my bed isn't made and there are a few clothes on the tub but it's generally clean) and it feels...wrong.  I mean it's nice--but not normal.  Not at all.  Yesterday I actually felt like doing some halloween decorating which the kids were appalled at--"Mom--it's not even October yet!"  Yes, I understand but the chance of me having both the time and gumption once October rolls around is pretty slim.

Anyway, I'm taking a moment to enjoy it because life seems to be changing faster than I like some days and while change is good, it can also be hard.  I realized that I'm not the only one here who struggles with that sometimes.  Just the other night one of the kids was setting the table and switched his place to Carter's old place at the table and another child (again--they prefer anonymity on the blog) about had a heart attack.  Like, he was seriously upset about it.  So, the end of the table sits empty, sort of like a sad memorial to the brother away for the next two years while the rest of us pass mashed potatoes past the vacant place setting.  

But while change is difficult it's also rewarding.  I like that my kids are doing a better job of picking up after themselves.  In fact I remarked today that my child who I thought was a slob for sure actually has a clean room now that he moved into Carter's old one.  (Apparently the same mentality doesn't exist for bedrooms--comfort and privacy prevail there I guess.) Who knew?  He just needed his own space it seems.  The kids are doing their laundry.  I'm doing a better job at planning meals and more importantly I'm looking at ways I can let my kids be accountable more and make more of their own decisions.  Now granted, sometimes they aren't always the decision I want them to make but that's part of those growing pains I suppose.  And so, I guess I'm grateful tonight.  Grateful for the few minutes of calm before the storm (because the storm will come I'm sure), grateful for these six crazy kids and the one fabulous husband, and grateful for the chance to change and improve.  And trust me, there is still room for improvement--loads of it.

Dare I say: progress?

The back to school craziness is in full swing here at the Morgans.  Here's the calendar I spent 2 hours figuring out the other night:

I was pretty proud of myself for putting that together--I'm just hoping I still have the gumption to do it when October comes around...I cannot tell you the number of school years I started a calendar like this and got one or two months into it and then gave up because it was too overwhelming and then I ran all over the place like a chicken with it's head cut off trying to remember which kid I put where that day...(thank heaven's for smart phones because at least now I can set an alarm.  When I remember to take my phone off of silent--which isn't as often as I should.)

Another one of my main goals in starting this blogging adventure was to improve my children's resilience and self reliance and frankly, to improve mine as well.  I've been thinking a lot these last six months on how we raise happy, capable, hard working kids and I'd like to tell you I have the magic answer but I don't.  Because I don't think there is one.  Kids come with their own personalities, strengths, and flaws and that's the way it's supposed to be and for us to expect that just because what works for one will work for another is naive.  And I was naive.  I remember that as we continued to have boys thinking, "well at least I'll know what I'm doing."  Riiiiiight...and then came Kennedy and when she was born I actually looked at the doctor and asked if there was an instruction manual in there as well.  (Note:  there was not.)  However, we are managing to make some progress here at the Morgans.  (I hesitate to even say that because I'm afraid Karma might come back to bite me but what's life without taking chances?)

The one thing that has become apparent to me is that we MUST allow our kids to do hard things.  I love this:

We were discussing this with our kids last week for family night and one of them said that we need to find an uncle with a farm so they can spend summers there to learn the value of hard work.  No farmer uncle to be had here but we do have a cool Disney roller coaster building uncle!  (Does test driving roller coasters count as work?)  So while we may not have a beet farm to send our kids to we have started giving them some more responsibility.  Here are some examples:

Example #1--Laundry:  I blogged about this previously.  With all these kids there is always laundry to be done and while I was actually pretty decent at keeping up on it I really wanted the kids to know how to do it.  The older ones had been doing their own for a while but we now have ALL the kids doing their own--and they are doing a great job!  An added bonus of this is that I am finding that their rooms are staying cleaner with them in charge of their own laundry.   How, you ask?  Because after 20 years I finally figured out that if I gave EACH of them their own hamper in their rooms that clothes ended up in them!  Previously we had two hampers in the hall for whites and darks but I guess it was just way too much to walk the 8 feet out into the hall to put their clothes in them...(I know--this seems like a no-brainer but after six kids I think it's painfully clear I have no brain left.)

Example #2--there is no example #2.  When I sat down to write this post I really thought that I would at least have another example but apparently I don't.  Dang it!  But I'm not going to get discouraged because one example is better than no example!  Right?  RIGHT?????

My Disneyland Epiphany

I know that I devised this blog originally as a place to vent my frustration and hold myself accountable for some changes for myself and my children.  And for those of you who have been following along since the beginning of this little journey (and seriously, if you've managed to stay with me, props to you) you know by now that I haven't made a great amount of progress.  Honestly by this point I was hoping that my kids would be chore doing fiends and I'd be a picture of organization with chore charts done, calendars made and that GIANT pile of clothes on my tub a thing of the  past.  But alas--that hasn't happened.

BUT--I have realized something recently.  Most anyone who knows us knows of our love for Disneyland and when the planets aligned, not only did I manage to find and marry a man with the same last name as me (Kristyn Morgan Morgan!) but I found someone who loved Disneyland even more than me!  And so, Disney is part of our family traditions and our children have quite literally grown up in the Magic Kingdom.

Now while I love taking my kids there--because my kids are pretty dang awesome--it hasn't always been easy.  First, there are 6 of them.  And we lose some of them.  A lot. (See previous post). Also, they need sunscreen.  And slicking up six kids takes FOREVER.  Then there is the whole food dilemma.  They are picky and finding a restaurant where they all will eat is nearly impossible.  (And it costs a fortune to feed them--churros alone could force you into bankruptcy. ) And so with that in mind Dave and I in recent years have taken to going to Disney once a year alone.  And it's awesome--I highly recommend it.  I don't have to lotion up anyone but myself and the top of Dave's head, we get to eat wherever and whenever we want and I don't have to carry or push anything!  This year we had the pleasure of running in the Disneyland 10K--and it was AMAZING!!!

What was even more amazing is that we leave our kids home--alone--when we go.  And they survive!  They get along, don't throw wild parties (that I know of), GET THEMSELVES TO CHURCH, and have the house clean when we return!  So that's something right?  So when I get frustrated with my progress or the dirty socks on the floor or the nest of towels in the bathroom, I have to remember that the percentage of teenagers who would roll out of bed on a Sunday morning to get themselves and their siblings ready for three hours of church starting at 9 am has got to be pretty small.  And that means that the Morgan's can't be a total mess right?  I mean somewhere along the line something sunk in and so while we are far from perfect I have great kids.  They may leave empty goldfish boxes and nesquick cans laying around but they are great kids.

Where Did I Put That Kid?

Do you ever feel like you're losing your mind?  Because most days I feel a little nuts.  Let me explain.  I was over at the school the other day fitting band kids for uniforms and while I can create a super organized system for outfitting 130 marchers I can't seem to keep track of my pen.  Or my measuring tape.  Or my lists.  What the heck?  And the sad thing is this isn't unusual for me.  A couple weeks ago I spent an hour looking for the can of spray paint I had in my hand literally 2 minutes prior to losing it.  Luckily I found it--two weeks later.  In my bathroom...

I was telling this to some friends the other day and I mentioned that it was a wonder I can keep track of 6 kids--and then I realized that I can't because we've lost all of them at some time.  Here's just a few of the many examples:

Church frenzy:  Every Sunday it's kind of an olympic dash to get six kids up, showered, fed (ok--who am I kidding, they don't get fed.  Just this Sunday Kennedy was sneaking peanut butter crackers during the opening hymn) dressed, loaded in the car and to church by 9:00 am.  One Sunday we arrived at church, slid into our pew and I looked over and we were missing one suit with a boy inside it.  Mr. Davis was not there.  So back home I went and proceeded to find him under a pile of blankets asleep.  In his suit.

Disneyland:  I have a whole series of experiences losing kids here but two stick out in my mind and they both involve McKay.  The first was when he was about 18 months old.  This was back in the day when Disneyland had these old rickety strollers with a canopy that prevented you from actually seeing your child once they were in the stroller--what genius invented that?  Clearly not a parent of six kids.  We were at the park with a bunch of Dave's family and I had McKay in the stroller and was headed from Tomorrowland over to the castle to meet some friends.  I got to the castle at which point our friends asked me why I was pushing an empty stroller.  I said, I wasn't, I had Mckay in there.  Only he wasn't in there--he'd hopped out somewhere between Space Mountain and the Castle.  After a few minutes of frantic searching he showed up at the Star Trader hanging out with a cast member.  Then several years later we lost him again.  One minute we were all together and the next we boarded Heimlich's Choo Choo and we only had 5 kids with us.  Mild panic set in and security was called.  I used to dress all the kids the same back then (they won't go for that so much anymore, dang it) and when they asked for a description I just said, "he looks like that one."  About 20 minutes later he turned up in the lost child center no worse for the wear.

I'd like to say I have some great insight into why I'm like this--or at least an idea of how to cure it.  But I don't because I just spent the last 7 minutes trying to remember this great idea I had for this paragraph of the blog.  I'm being serious--I just spent 7 minutes staring at the screen, wracking my brain for this clever idea I had not 10 minutes ago and it's gone.  So frustrating!  I've read about systems that are supposed to help me overcome this problem and they probably work--except I can't remember where I read that or what they are.  This is hopeless...

"Wipe Out Winco Style" and other morning adventures.

It's been a pretty crazy week at our house as Wednesday we sent Carter off on his mission.  It's a strange feeling leading up to sending a missionary off--or a college student I suppose.  You feel like the clock is ticking down and you should be making the most of your time left but you can't quite figure out what you should be doing.  So in lieu of something grand we did what we usually do when we can't think of anything--Target and Red Robin.

Carter had to be at the airport by 4:30 am so after a tearful goodbye--I'm gonna miss that kid--we headed home.  I was too keyed up to go back to bed so I decided to do my grocery shopping for the week and I have to say, grocery shopping at 5:30 am is about a million times better than grocery shopping at 5:30 pm.  There aren't any lines (but you have to dodge all of the boxes piled up in the aisles--kind of like "Wipe Out Winco Style"). So while I was jumping over cases of mac and cheese I had an epiphany of sorts.  You see, I've always been pretty much a night owl.  I've never liked getting up early and I found that I was way more productive after 8:00 pm than I ever was before 8:00 am.  Until about a year ago when I discovered I still don't like getting up early and yet by the time 8:00 pm rolls around I pretty much don't want to do anything--except sit on the couch and watch  "Ghost Hunters."  (I don't care what any of you think--it's all real!) Yet as I was cruising through Winco I thought that perhaps now I would become a lark!  I felt so good having my shopping for the week done by 6:00 am that I went home, put all the groceries away, unloaded the dishes, cleaned the kitchen and started the laundry!  I was so productive!  And then 7:00 am came at which point I crawled back in bed and didn't emerge until 10:00 am sluggish as ever.

I think I would be much more productive if I got up early.  The day has a way of getting away from me and before I know it it's dinner time, I still haven't decided on anything to cook, my errands are halfway done and I'm wondering where all my time has gone.  It's not that I haven't attempted to change my ways before.  I've tried turning on my bedroom lights first thing in the morning and breathing grapefruit essential oils which are supposed to make me more awake but instead now I have a Pavlov's dog reaction to the smell of grapefruit and I just want to hit a snooze button and roll over whenever someone cracks open a grapefruit.  But I really think that I could be more productive and help my children be more productive if I can switch this internal clock somehow.  If anyone has any great solutions I'm all ears.  As long as they don't include grapefruit.  Just the thought of it is making me tiredzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz......

Criminal Minds--Morgan style

I hate moles.  Almost as much as I hate hot dogs which is saying quite a lot.  Without fail every spring/summer some nefarious mole decides that the Morgan lawn offers up some tasty treats and he reeks havoc on our lawn.  It pretty much makes me crazy.   We did a bunch of research on it and tried various things like mole "repellant", flushing them out, chewing gum down the holes, etc.  Epic fails.  So about 4 years ago I got fed up with this annual infestation and called up the mole dude to come and eliminate the problem.  (Those of you who don't condone animal/rodent violence may want to stop reading at this point--because by "eliminate" I mean kill those little suckers.)  So Mole Man shows up, sets his traps and a few days later, voila--dead mole!  The only problem with this is that it's like $200 for the guy to do it so I talked him into teaching me how to catch them and now I'm pretty much a pro.

Now, at this point you are asking, why in the heck is she writing about moles?  Good question!  Because it's been a good example this year in how I am turning things over to the kids and teaching them responsibility!  The thing is--setting the traps is a little bit tricky--you have to have some muscles (which I do but they're lady muscles that are good for like lifting cute weights and rearranging furniture.) You also have to have a little patience in finding a good spot and getting the trap positioned the best way.  But I figured that it might be a good learning experience for my kids.  Plus, I don't do dead rodents.  Disgusting.  So I figured that if I offered a mole bounty this could be a win-win situation:  my kids earn some money and learn a valuable skill and I don't have to mess with a mole carcass.  (Seriously disgusting.)

And so about two weeks ago one of the boys and I went out to set the traps.  We figured out the best place (we thought) to put them and my manly son (he prefers to remain anonymous because mom blogs are sort of embarrassing I guess) dug the holes and set the traps.  At this point I think he thought this was going to be a pretty easy $20.  He was wrong.  Because moles are smarter than they look--and if you've ever seen one you know they look pretty stupid.  And ugly.  So the next day, the kid goes out there and sees the trap is sprung--excellent!  Except, no mole.  At this point, he pretty much decides to give up but I figure this is a great lesson in resilience and seeing something through to the end right?  So I instruct him to move the traps and he sets them again.  Now, here is where the mystery begins.  I know--you're dying from anticipation...

At this point, my son heads out to camp for a week.  (Dang it--now I've narrowed down the suspect list for you!)  So a few days later I go out to check the traps and one is missing.  Like there's a big ol' hole in the ground and no trap.  So I'm thinking maybe it went off again and my camper noticed it before he left and maybe pulled it out or something.  Except I can't find it anywhere.  And I looked a mediocre amount.  Which is a lot for me.  So it started making me crazy.  Where is the stinking trap?  Because they aren't super cheap and I still want that mole caught.  Anyway, we wait the whole week, my son comes home and tells me he didn't do anything to the trap.  At this point I'm thinking somebody-like some mole lover-- stole it.  And here is where the detective work came in--and thanks to watching Criminal Minds way too much McKay cracked the case.

Kennedy comes in and tells me that there is a mole trap in the back yard--yet the trap was set in the front yard.  We go out and check and sure enough--there's the trap--with a decomposing mole in it.  SICK!  Using his great sleuthing abilities McKay deduces that the trap went off, killed the mole, an animal happened upon it, dug it up and drug it to the back yard!  Case solved and mole caught!

So what did I learn from this about my children?  First, my kids are capable of doing hard things.  Second, this was a great lesson for my son in seeing a job through to the end and it was a great lesson for me in letting him do that.  My natural tendency would have been to reset the traps myself after the first misfire but I let/made him do it.  And finally (and more terrifying) , I learned that apparently I have larger animal problems in my yard than moles...

Are we handing out dollar bills like candy now?

I fear that I may have gotten sidetracked in my journey to get a clean house.  I blame pinterest of course.  As you may recall I  think it's inspired by the devil and I fell into his trap this last week.  Dave was away at scout camp and so I embarked on the quest to make over my bedroom with a number of pinterest inspired ideas.  I'm actually pretty pleased with the results--which is shocking for those of you who know my creative capabilities.  It only took me 6 tries to pick out a wall color--"White Asparagus."  The kids are convinced it's just a fancy way of saying "white" but we all know better...

Anyway, what this all means is that while I was busy picking out paint, scouring Goodwill for bargain furniture and creating roman shades from ugly green mini blinds (seriously--pinterest has ideas for EVERYTHING) my house looks like a bomb went off.  (Except my bedroom--my bedroom looks SPECATCULAR!) I was lamenting the state of affairs to the fam when Dave made the comment, "so we're pretty much just handing out dollar bills like candy now right?"  One of the boys argued that the metaphor (or is it a simile?) makes no sense because there aren't any people just giving out candy.  Unless it's Halloween.  Which it isn't most of the time.  But Dave was on to something--it's still way too easy for these kids to get their dollar bills.  But not anymore!  Not only do they have to have their rooms clean by 10:00 am but they have to have anything else of theirs picked up as well.  We'll see how it goes.  (Personally I predict a couple of kid funded trips to Baja Fresh this week.)

Remember how I posted a while back that I was going to have the kids start cooking dinner three nights a week?  I'll let you in on a little secret:  that hasn't happened.  At. All.  I don't even cook three nights a week.  There, I said it.  I am a TERRIBLE mother--most nights our dinners consist of quesadillas, ramen, cereal, or a variation thereof.  So how the heck am I going to get my kids to cook when I don't even do it?  Seriously, how?  So that's my new goal--to actually cook dinner.  It's not that I've always been this way--for years I cooked dinner every night (every night but Friday because that's our sacred date night and date night MUST involve me getting to eat out.)  It's just that as the kid's schedules have gotten crazier I've become more of the short order cook--plus they are all so dang picky.  Some of them won't eat fruit.  Fruit. I am not making that up.  So I figure that if I put this out in the blogosphere (is that a hip word or what?) maybe I'll actually see it through.  Maybe.  Don't hold your breath.

The Piano Blues

As I'm sitting here typing this I'm listening to my son, McKay (who is 16) play a beautiful piece on the piano--a medley of "Joseph Smith's First Prayer" and "Praise to the Man."  I am not gonna lie--it makes me proud.  Proud and glad that we made our kids take piano lessons for all those years.

Piano lessons are interesting.  I find that it follows a cycle much like this:

Phase 1, aka, "The Honeymoon Stage":  this begins around the age of 8 when the child is jumping up and down for joy at the prospect of taking lessons.  He eagerly does his theory first thing and asks when he can practice the piano and then proceeds to play the week's worth of songs in one day.  Mom and Dad look on, dreaming of their future concert pianist and patting themselves on the back for providing this opportunity.  

Phase 2, aka, "Two Weeks Later":  Reality sets in.  Practice is hard.  And it takes away from valuable nintendo playing time.  At this point Mom and Dad (but let's face it, it's really Mom) must devise ways to keep the pianist engaged.  Sticker charts, pennies lined up on the piano, candy treats, cold hard cash--we will stop at nothing because, dang it, we don't want our off spring growing up and saying that they wished their mom had made them practice the piano--seriously there are more than one of you reading this that said that to your mom, correct?

Phase 3, "The Torture Years":  Yep--it's torture.  For both the child and yourself.  And it will last--for a loooooooooooong time.  You will listen to endless scales--played at lightening speed so that they can get through them quickly and you will go crazy in the process.  Your child will spend hours sitting/laying on the bench whining that they don't knoooooooooooooow what note that it is and it's tooooooooooooooo hard.  There will be tears.  Lots of them.  And a few from your child as well.  There will be the endless battle to find their piano books: "I put them right here and SOMEBODY took them"  (only to have Mom find them exactly where they should be).  There will be frantic car rides to lessons when your pianist discovers he forgot to do his theory--again--and you are trying to help him transpose a song while navigating traffic which quite frankly probably ranks right up there with driving and texting as far as safety goes.  On good weeks your child will practice every day.  And then you find out that there are never good weeks and instead you're batting .500.  If you're lucky.  You will be forced to attend hour long recitals when all you really want to hear is the 2 minutes your kid plays.  And it sounds exactly like it does at home, so why are you here?  The child will curse your name, proclaim the fact that they have to practice "unfair" and they will tell you that they will NEVER make their kids take piano lessons.  And you will pay hundreds--no thousands of dollars--for all that.  

But finally...

Phase 4, "The Reward":  one day you will be rewarded for all that grief with your child playing a beautiful piano medley not because you made them, but because they want to.  Your house will be filled with lovely music and you realize it's been a long time since you were going mad listening to the 654th rendition of "Chop Sticks."  And it's worth it.  It really is.  

Harmony=Tacos?

Progress Report #2:

At this point I'd like to tell you that I am seeing notable progress in the cleaning department here at the Morgans.  Except I can't.  Because we aren't.

One of the great things here at the Morgan house is that we generally are a pretty happy bunch.  We've been blessed with harmony in our home and I wouldn't trade that for the world.  We have a good time together, the kids like to hang out with each other and I can honestly say that yelling is few and far between here.  Those are all great things.

What I'm struggling to figure out is how to keep the harmony and get a clean house in the process.  Because my house pretty much looks exactly the same since I started this little blog--except now we have jars with money.  So...clearly I need to reevaluate.  I know that most of this rests on my shoulders.  I need to be better about holding them accountable--but dang it, how am supposed to know whose apple core that is sitting on the ledge between the family room and kitchen?  (Seriously, why is there an apple core perched there?  Is is THAT hard to throw it in the trash?)  Now,  I've seen those moms that spend a good portion of the day yelling at their kids to "clean up and get their chores done or else!"  And honestly--I'll take a messy house over turning into that.  I honestly believe that yelling at our kids is never the answer.  Sometimes I listen to how parents treat their children (or their spouse for that matter) and I think, "how would you feel if someone was talking to you like that right now?" But I'll tell you something--those kids grow up and if you're a yeller, guess what they turn into?  Yep.  Yellers.  And they yell at you.  Now let me be the first to admit that I have had some pretty non-stellar mom moments when I wish I could take back what I said and I hate that feeling.  Yelling just doesn't seem to be the answer.  And now I'll get off my soapbox...

So...due to my lack of progress in regards to getting my kids to not be slobs I've set some goals for the week:

1.  First, I think it's time for me to look at each room with a critical eye and get rid of what we don't need and organize what we do need.  (Those top hats are on the chopping block.)
2.  I've got to go back to holding the kids more accountable by (calmly) asking them to please clean up their messes.  I've also got to let them know when they are losing money out of their jars when their jobs aren't done.  Right now, because I hate conflict, I sneak their dollars out of their jars when nobody is looking and then run to Baja Fresh with my booty.  I'll still head out to Baja but they'll know their laziness is funding my tacos.
3.  I'll make sure to thank them when their jobs ARE done.  How often do I forget to do that?  I mean, I love it when they thank me for making dinner so I can return the favor.

Now, lest you think this great experiment I've started is a complete failure, it is not--but more on that next time.  I know.  The suspense is killing you...

"Keep your wind out of my sails!"

I read a book a while ago that I may or may not have mentioned in a previous post.  (It is well established that I am lazy so even though I could take time to go back and check, I'm not going to.  After all, I've probably either scared everyone off or bored them to death so there are probably only about 5 people left who read this this thing anyway.  True friendship...)  What was I talking about?  Right--the book.  Anyway, it's a book by Dr. Michael Lehman titled, "How to Have a New Teenager By Friday" and I ADORE it!  Seriously--everyone with teenagers should read it.  In it he discusses the special "challenges" that teenagers come with and one of the comments he makes is that we can't "let our teenagers wind get in our sails."

Some weeks it's pretty windy around here.

Now, I would say that a majority of the time I really like having older kids.  We have some great discussions, I love seeing them mature and come into their own and they are way smarter than I was at their age.  But there are times that I want to look at them and ask, "what planet do you hail from?"

Most of the time it begins by me asking what I think is an innocent question.  That's what I get for thinking I guess.  Because it's met with incoherent mumbling, or eye rolling or the (somewhat) polite response to "get off my back."  So as I resorted to vacuum therapy today--what is it about vacuuming that seems to restore my sanity?--I repeated over and over, "Don't let their wind get in my sails.  Don't let their wind get in my sails."

Dr. Lehman explains that it's hard enough for teenagers what with all their raging hormones and what not that they don't need us parents getting all put out with their attitudes.  But man--sometimes I'm put out.

This approach of course goes against my natural helicopter mom inclinations.  I don't like it when all isn't well on the home front.  What I want to do is hash it out and get them to see that for heaven's sake their mother is right!  About everything!  Except I'm not, dang it.

And so, as we continue on this journey to helping our kids become more resilient and responsible I have to sometimes turn a blind eye to the mumbling and eye rolling.  I remind myself that most of these "windy" days are really inconsequential in the eternal scheme of things and most of the time, parenting teenagers is pretty rewarding.  Most of the time.

"It's cheaper than a therapist."

In our quest to teach our children resilience and self reliance I find it's a constant balancing act.  I've mentioned before that I hadn't realized how much "hovering" I did as a parent.  Let me tell you folks, I hovered.  So now, I feel in some ways that I'm in parenting 101.  In fact I mentioned to someone the other day that I felt like I knew what I was doing for the first 20 years and all of a sudden I'm not so sure...I mean heaven help you if you are the unlucky friend who runs into me in the Target baking aisle after a long day of me questioning my parenting approach.  (Apologies Michelle but you are considerably cheaper than a therapist.)

Now, don't get me wrong.  Even with some of the "stuff" we have going on at the Morgan household I still feel like we did pretty well. I mean, I was 20 years old when Jordan was born!  20 people!  I was a baby--a baby I tell you!  But there's always room for improvement.  I mean, you're talking to the mom who apparently didn't read the whole section on newborns in her parenting guidebook where it says that it might be a bad idea to put your baby to sleep on the same side every time.  Poor Jordan--it took two years for that kid's melon head to even out.  (But he did do a pretty decent impression of a pirate with his "aye matey" squinty look.)

Now I realize that hindsight is 20/20 so I'm not beating myself up too much but I do want to be better.  So I find myself questioning my approach to lots of things at the moment.  Do I remind my children to do their chores each day?  If so, how many times do I remind them?  At what point does "reminding" cross over into "helicopter mom nagging" territory?  Do I pick up their mess or leave it there for 8 hours until they come home from work?  If I leave it there, how do I keep from going crazy looking at it?

If there was anyone left out there that thought I have my act together this should make it pretty clear that I don't.  And you know what?  I'm kind of ok with that because that means there is room for improvement.  I think that too often we're afraid to "let it all hang out there" because we feel like  everyone else is better at "this" (whatever "this" is) than we are. But I tell you what.  These last few months have shown me that we ALL have things that we struggle with.  None of us are perfect--it's just enough to keep trying.  And besides which if I'm going too crazy Target's right down the street and law of averages suggests  SOMEONE I know is bound to be there.  Hey Michelle--you have any baking to do???

Hey Mom--what's for dinner?

For some reason I had this crazy notion that once summer came this new plan of teaching my kids responsibility/independence/resilience would be easier.  Not so much.  I'm struggling to figure out when to do the room checks when kids are still lounging about until 11 am.  I know, I know!  I'm one of those moms who lets their kids sleep in during the summer.  I'm sure some of you are shaking your heads and saying, "no wonder her kids don't pick up their socks...."  Heres the thing though--I ADORE sleeping in!  There was nothing that I loved more when I was a teenager than having the luxury of sleeping until my body told me to wake up.  I still love sleeping in though that tends to hardly every happen.  I also think that my kids deserve a bit of a break.  After all, during the school year all of my teenagers have to be at early morning seminary every week day at 6:10 am so I feel like being able to sleep in during the summer is a reward for that.  Call me crazy.

So...I've adjusted my expectations a bit for the jar method.  I've decided that for now, I don't care so much about the bed being made because I still want to do my room checks each morning.  BUT--the room needs to be straight and they must have their daily job done before bed the night before.  We'll see how that goes.  

I'm also getting ready to implement phase 2 of "becoming a responsible citizen/resilient child."  The dreaded cooking aspect.  I've mentioned before that I pretty much hate cooking.  I've spent a lot of time analyzing it and here is what I dislike about it:

1.  Planning the menu--because there is NOTHING all six kids like.  Except when I make scones for dinner.  And fried bread dipped in honey does not constitute a meal.

2.  Shopping for the food--I seriously have to work up the courage to go to the grocery store.  I'd rather go to the dentist than Winco.  And don't even get me started on Wal-Mart...

3.  Paying for the food--I have two issues here.  First, the money--but I don't whine too much about that because Dave is my sugar daddy.  Secondly, I'm always slightly ashamed at the amount of sugar cereal, cookies, crackers, etc that make up my cart.  I feel like the cashier is silently chastising me for the amount of junk food I'm purchasing.  I always feel like saying--" I really buy healthy food too--see my bag of apples?"

4.  Bagging the groceries--it's like Tetris gone bad.

5.  Putting them away--because this means confronting last week's leftovers in the fridge and the soggy tomatoes in the vegetable drawer.

6.  Cooking the meal--it takes an hour and is consumed in under 10 minutes.

7.  Cleaning up--speaks for itself.

So as you can see, the only part I like is eating it.  Which is why the workers at Baja Fresh and Panda Express know me by name.  

But--I do want the kids to learn how to prepare a meal from beginning to end.  That means that I want them to plan, shop for, cook and clean up the meal.  This is going to be a huge adjustment for me because I am a last minute chef.  The kids ask for dinner and I never know--or I tend to change my plan from one minute to the next.  It's like cooking ADD.  So, my plan is to assign each kid a night and let them be in charge.  I'm starting with just three nights a week because our summer is busy plus I don't want Jose at Baja to forget me just yet.  

Wish me luck!

"Pomp and Circumstance"

The crazy train has ramped up to turbo mode the last few weeks around here so I haven't posted for a while.  I know, you're all cryin' in your cheerios about that I'm sure.  Is it just me or is the end of the school year just nuts?  It's been extra busy for our family as we've had Carter graduate this last week which is really fun--and really sad too.  It's caused me to reflect on a few things so forgive me as I wax poetic here for a moment...

I've realized that even though I'm frustrated with my household's lack of organization and discipline that somewhere along the line we did a few things right.  I mean, look at this kid:

Yeah,  I know I'm his mom and all but that is one good looking kid right?  And not only that, but he's a really nice kid!  He's thoughtful, he's smart, he's got college plans, he's nice to his mother and in two short months he's off to serve a mission in Brazil.  Brazil!  That is a long way from home!  But I'm so happy for him and the young man he's become.  I also can't believe how stinking fast it went.  I mean it literally seems like only yesterday he was wearing his "lucky shirt" every single day and carrying around his pet "chain."  (Yes--I am one of those mean moms who won't allow pets because heaven knows I can barely manage the stress of keeping six kids alive, let alone an animal.  Plus they smell.  And shed.  And need a babysitter when we go out of town.  Oh the list is endless really...)  Anyway, in lieu of a pet this kid had a dog chain collar he carried around.  EVERYWHERE.  Even the bathtub which is where it probably met it's rusty demise.

It got me thinking because I promised to be brutally honest on this blog and I can't lie.  The last couple of weeks have been rough in the parenting department at times.  Oh, we have our cute jars and some days all of the kids have their beds made and their rooms straight.  But just as many days none of it is getting done--I'm just getting richer.  And meaner. 

Case in point:  our weekly jobs were not done this week--one of the kids tried to get out of it by saying they didn't know which one was their hook.  Seriously? Those flashcards didn't help at all.   Anyway,  because of that I was out mowing the lawn at 9:30 pm Saturday night because I was mad and just too beaten down to make the kid do it.  I mean--he has it agency right?  Stinkin' agency.

But then I stop and look at that picture of Carter or I watch Kennedy and Parker in their recitals, or see Davis and McKay headed out to a day long rehearsal, or watch Jordan playing the piano for the primary kids in sacrament meeting and I think, "you know what?  It could be worse.  There may be a mountain (and I tell you, it's a MOUNTAIN ) of clothes in the laundry room at the moment, and there are still weeds in my front yard, and my bathrooms are nowhere near as clean as they should be, but I have great kids.  Really great kids.

But they better watch out 'cause summer's here and I'm attaching names to those hooks. 

"I'll need 150 one dollar bills please."

I mentioned awhile back about how we have had many forms of the chore/allowance system at our house.  Good news:  I have a new one!  I actually got the idea from a book I picked up at Desert Book the other day.  I'd tell you the name of it but I'm much too lazy to go upstairs to my bathroom and find the book.  (Yeah I know--I'm a total bathroom reader but I promised to be real so you don't get much "realer" than that revelation.)  Anyway, the author used the jar system to inspire/threaten her kids and so we're giving it a go around here.

Basically, each kid gets a jar at the beginning of the month with $30 in it.  Each day I check to see that my cleaning expectations are met.  If they are, they keep the cash.  If not, I take $1 out of the jar.  At the end of the month they get to keep what's in the jar.  The kids liked this idea but I think that's mainly because I offered them double allowance for the month of June to get the plan started.  (Normally they get their allowance at the beginning of the month and since this new system will work backwards with them receiving the money at the end I figured it was only fair to give them the expected cash at the beginning as well as at the end.  Also--it was worth paying extra to not hear them complain...)  So, this is what we agreed on as far as rules:

1.  Bed must be made--this should be pretty dang easy because none of them use top sheets.  I know, we're barbarians around here.  Someone said once, "they need to learn how to sleep with a top sheet so they are used to it when they get married."  Trust me--learning to sleep with a top sheet will be the least of their problems when they get married.

2.  Floor of room must be clear with clothes put away and trash in the garbage.  (Again, trash in the garbage should be a given, but remember, we're barbarians.)

3.  Towels hung and dirty clothes in hamper in the bathroom.  (Seriously, why is it SO difficult to just hang up the dang towels?)  I could do a whole post on our towel situation alone.  Maybe I will...

4.  All must be done BEFORE leaving for school.  (If they are smart they will clean up the night before.  If they were smart.)

My part in all of this is to actually check the rooms each day.  That's a pretty big commitment for me but I figure that it will be easier if I do it in the morning before my brain becomes to full of all the other things I have to do.  Like Facebook.  Or People.com.

So now you can go ahead and place bets on how well this system works.  Who knows?  Maybe I've stumbled onto the answer to all of our chore problems.  But probably not.

Progress Report and Cute Shoes

Well, I'd like to report that our house has transformed itself from chaotic and cluttered to controlled and clean.  I'd like to report that, but it would be a lie.  Because it looks pretty much exactly the same.  I managed to put away the clothes pile on the tub and I kept it clean for a whole day--a whole day people!  But the pile is back and it's even bigger than before.  I've also added  4 pairs of ballet flats to the pile.  (I have a serious weakness when it comes to ballet flats, just ask my husband.) In my defense, this week has been crazy busy with a band auction, traveling out of town,  general life nuttiness, and the acquiring of two new pairs of ballet flats (they are ADORABLE)  but my house is still a mess.

What I CAN report is that we have made some progress in the area of giving our kids more responsibility and I'm finding that I'm becoming more aware of the times when I tend to step in and do for my kids what they can otherwise do for themselves.  If you would have asked me a few months ago if I was a "helicopter mom" I would have said no and that would have been correct.  Because I am a full on "search and rescue team Mom." A kid forgets his lunch:  I'm running to school to leave it in the office.  Daughter lost her brand new ballet tights--I'm headed to the store for a new pair.  It's a sickness really.  As I've worked to be more aware we have had some successes and here are some examples:

1.  Handsome Morgan Boy VS Cranky Teacher-- we had a situation involving a scathing email regarding one of the Morgan Clan.  In the past, I would have tried to really get to the bottom of the situation and "fixed" the problem.  I've never been one to assume my kid is not at fault--in fact I usually assume my child is at least 75% at fault but I have always tried to remedy these situations when they arise. After all, though my kids aren't perfect they are pretty great and everyone should know this. This time, I did speak with the child and then sent a quick email to the teacher telling her we had discussed the situation and I was going to leave it up to the two of them to work out.  And guess what--they did!  Without my expertise.  Imagine!

2.  Personal Assistant--one day my schedule was packed with work, driving kids to lessons, making a meal for a friend, meetings, etc. (Shopping for ballet flats may or may not have been on the agenda.)  I really needed to do some basic grocery shopping and figured I'd have to make a late night trip.   Side note:  I HATE grocery shopping.  Like seriously despise it so I tend to put it off as long as possible. And then, as my 20 year old and 14 year old were headed out the door to the mall I had an "aha moment"--these boys were more than capable of going to the grocery store for me.  So I wrote them a list and off they went.  They came home later (after a few frantic texts regarding brands of spaghetti sauce) with the shopping done!  

I know that doesn't seem like a lot but I think it's a start.  After all changing your thinking is really most of the battle and I'm finding that more and more I'm stopping and thinking, "Is this something I need to do for them or can they do it on their own?"  Surprisingly, most of the time, they can do it on their own and I think they feel a sense of accomplishment when it's done.  That really is the whole point of this whole thing anyway--so maybe I'll ignore that clothes pile for another day:-)

Putting First Things First

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to travel to Utah for a Women's Conference sponsored by BYU, my alma mater.  The best part of the conference was that I got to attend with 5 of my sisters in law and my amazing mother in law.  I'm so blessed to be surrounded by such fabulous examples of womanhood.  I had spent some time looking over the different classes offered and found one that I just knew I needed to attend.  The title:  "Putting First Things First."

How fitting right?  Most of the time I feel like my brain is going in like twenty different directions.  I'm sure that at one point in life (most likely prior to giving birth to these six monkeys) I could see a thought thru from beginning to end.  Not so much anymore.  At any given time my thought process resembles an eight year old on a pogo stick.  Here's an example of the six thoughts running through my brain at this very moment:

1.  "How long ago did Carter take his pain meds and when is he going to stop drooling?"  (He got his wisdom teeth out this afternoon.)

2.  "What was it I planned to make for dinner tomorrow night and how many of the ingredients do I actually have in the house?"  (answer:  less than half and I went to the store yesterday!  And left the grocery list in the car...)

3.  "What time do I have to be at the school to help at the Bookfair tomorrow and how nice do I actually have to look?"

4.  "How am I going to remember to send the emails for the auction because I normally write my reminders on my hand but if I do that now in bed I'll wake up with 'auction emails' tattooed on the side of my face from where my hand was squished into my cheek all night.  (And I know this because it has happened on more than one occasion.)

5.  "Wait--what am I writing about??"

See?  It's a wonder I can string more than two sentences together coherently.  I'm a scattered mess!  And this gets back to the heart of the problem that started me on my blogging adventure:  how do I organize my life so that I can better help my children and be less frustrated with the state of affairs at the Morgan hacienda?  I think the answer lies in the title of that class, "Putting First Things First."  I'd love to tell you that I came out of that class with a plan for establishing my priorities.  I didn't.  Because the class was full and instead I wandered the cafeteria in search of a caffeinated Diet Coke--a fruitless search by the way, but I digress...

BUT--I have been giving some thought to what is most important to me and this is what I came up with:

1.  My spiritual/emotional/physical well being--because if I'm not taking care of myself how can I possibly take care of anyone else?

2.  My husband--after all when the kids grow up and leave (they WILL grow up and leave, right?) it's going to be him and I.

3.  My children--because they are only under my care for such a short period of time and I don't want to screw them up too badly.

4.  My church callings and assignments

5.  Other Volunteer assignments (Band, dance groups, community events, etc)

I'm still working out the kinks to how I'm going to make this work--if you have any suggestions, I'm all ears.  Oh--and bring me a Diet Coke while you're at it...

PS--I read this post through the next day and realized that I only listed five thoughts, not the 6 I referenced.  I was going to change it and then thought, "Nope--that about sums it up..."