Who's Yer Mama?

I was thinking back on some sweet childhood memories recently.  I was thinking about who different individuals in my family were to me as a child versus the relationship we have now that I am an adult.  As a child, some relatives valued me more than others.  I'm not saying they didn't love me, I am saying some embrace your childishness more than others.  Some relatives just prefer to spend time with a more mature crowd.  Hopefully this makes sense. It was at this time that I switched my thinking around a bit.

When my children grow up, how will they remember me?
There is a fine line between teaching your children and nagging them.  Will they think I was a nag because of the many times I have lost patience over a messy room?  Will they wish their mother had played with them more?  Will they tell me I made casseroles just to make them miserable? I seriously don't think they will thank me for their clean rooms or forcing them to do their homework. I am going to be very honest.  While there are many things I could improve on, I am going to focus on one.  I have noticed that my ability to be patient has been strained and I am starting to yell more.  I hate that.  Patience used to be one of my biggest virtues.  I have decided I am going to change back to the old me.  

I attended a conference recently about approaching difficult conversations.  The workshop was intended to teach us how to better communicate with schools for our child with special needs.  There were so many things in that workshop that can apply to your own personal, everyday life.  One thing stuck with me in a big way and I have decided to make that my own goal.  Want to hear it?   Here we go.
Decide WHO you are going to be in every conversation and commit to BE that person. It is very simple, really.  Am I going to be the crazy, angry, middle-aged woman or the mom who can get things accomplished with love, patience, kindness and gentleness?  At the end of the day, both types can achieve the same goal but only one fills their children's hearts with the right stuff.  Only one will grow the type of person that I wish my children to become.  

Who we are is a choice we make.  We can blame past experience, upbringing, genetics, lack of sleep, health, hunger, or present situations but we always have the power to choose how we respond to them. 

For me, I know my faith will bring me through it.  I can pray for the fruit of the spirit and intentionally think things through before I lose my head over the little things in life.  I can plan ahead and prepare for situations.  I can think through positive reinforcements to get the behaviors I want from my children.  I can prepare myself to deal with the meltdown that will ensue from natural consequences that my children will not like.  I know that preparation is the key.  It isn't about being a pushover, it is about being the mother and woman God calls me to be.
So, when you think about it - how will the people in your life remember you someday?

Mrs. Priss

Loving on my kids like...

The Mom - Defined

Mother's Day is coming up!I was going to do a cutesy post about being moms, but I started thinking about being a mom and how it has changed me.  Oh boy - has it ever changed me!

Mrs. Priss' boys - 2007

Today, I'm going to tell you about the first time I really became an empowered mother.
As many of you may know, my son Michael was diagnosed with Asperger's at the age of three.  I was educating myself as fast as I could but the world was taking the reins.  I relied on therapists, books and teachers to guide me as I learned what Michael's needs were.  I was so worried that I would miss something and it would ruin Michael's life forever.  I trusted these people to lead me through it.  I lacked confidence and was never one to speak up.  This may shock those of you who know me.
The year that Michael was in the four-year-old preschool program at the school, things didn't go so well.  I began to not trust the teacher.  All she shared were negative things.  She didn't appear to make much effort, either.  My sweet Michael was struggling to make it through a half-day in her class and came home keyed up.  I was disappointed in her but also carrying the guilt of knowing that my son was more difficult to manage than most. 
The Doc and I decided maybe it was time to try private school.  With high hopes, we met with the principal and explained our situation.  He said they would be glad to have him.  It was the middle of the school year, but we felt he could enter the class and things would be better in this private, Christian setting.  
It was anything but that.
As the semester dragged on, I began to cry every time the phone rang because the school called about something bad - every single day.  My child was constantly suspended for many things ranging from "refusal to color" to "biting."  Yeah, biting.  That biting thing was a one time deal and a turning point for us.  Michael was being bullied by his classmates and over-disciplined by his teachers and no one would do a thing about it.  I kept trying to figure out how my mild-mannered child had become such a mess.  I trusted that the teacher had his best interests in mind and was appropriately dealing with his behavior.  I was even punishing him at home for his reported behavior by taking away his favorite toys.
We got the call one day from the principal that Michael was going to be suspended for biting another child on the playground the day before.  The incident took place on the playground and the child hadn't reported it to his teacher, but his mom called when she saw the bite marks that night.  This boy had a bite mark on his stomach and said my son had done it.  All the moms out there know that a stomach is a weird place to bite.  I knew instantly there was a lot more to the story than the school was telling.
No one had even bothered to find out from Michael what happened.
When got Michael home, the Doc and I quizzed him.  One of the problems was that Michael never told on the other kids when they were doing stuff to him.  His communication wasn't very good then, but he looked at his dad with tears in his eyes and said, "I didn't let them tear my clothes off."  
Those boys were bullying him and one had pinned him down to the ground.  That bite was his attempt to get the other kid off of him.  My child had to use self-defense and no one came to his aid.
When we finally got the whole story from Michael, the tides had turned.  I was no longer crying out of despair, I was crying from anger.  
Yes, I cry a lot.  
I realized that day that if I didn't look out for my child and defend him every time, no one else would.  I didn't have the luxury of trusting other experts to drive this car.  It was my job (and Doc's) alone.  I no longer take a teacher's assessment at face value.  I question it thoroughly to make sure that everything makes sense.  I question Michael thoroughly to see what was going on in his head.  Then I think it through and use my mothering instinct.  I trust that instinct now.
It took about three months after school was over before I got my sweet boy back.  He was a mess of anxiety!  And his public school Kindergarten teacher helped me know I could trust again.  There are some wonderful teachers out there.
Nowadays, when something is wrong, I don't hesitate to intervene.  You'd better be able to back up your case if something is going wrong in your classroom.  Michael does not get away with much, but he knows his mother will defend him.  The world does not understand Asperger's and I'm hear to advocate for Michael.  I've done a some advocating for my little Jacob as well.  Every kid needs an advocate, you know.
That's the day I had had enough.It's the day they woke the Mama Bear in me.


And I still cry a lot.But that goes with the territory, right?

Do you remember a significant moment that defines you as a parent? 

Mrs. Priss

who wishes you a Happy Mother's Day --

and reminds you to be thankful for your own mothers!

It's Monday...Again?!

Hope everyone enjoyed their Father's Day! How were your cook outs, golf outings, daddy nap times yesterday? Now that we are done celebrating Dad let's get back to "us". LOL.

So my mommy friends, do you ever feel like you can not make through one more day? 

Do you ever lose "it" over spilt cheerios? Me too.

It's Monday on Summer Break  - enough said.

I'm thankful for my friends & how we help each other deal w/the daily mommy challenges we face. I pray you have good girlfriends to talk to about life. I'll confess that I'm not handling things very well lately. I let feelings build then explode vs. dealing w/issues as they arise. I "lose" it much more than I like. 

A friend of mine recommended this book. I really like the writing of style of  Julie Barnhill. You have to go check out She's Gonna Blow!  She keeps it real about mommy anger while keeping you laughing. 

I'm off to the book store, Happy Monday ; )

And speaking of good girl friends...hope to see you at our next RHOK Out! Check out the link on our sidebar. It will be a fun, summer outing to hang with the girls & take a little break from the "heat". You won't want to miss it. Lots of fun & giveaways!
xo-
Mrs. Montgomery
Going for Mommy of the Year like a ...

Hot Commodity

Free time.

You know...Free time...a quiet moment, when you lock yourself in the bathroom...or lock the kids in the closet.

Free time.

I know, you're looking at me like I just spoke a foreign language.

As moms and wives (and even dads and husbands), we don't get much of it and we all probably would love to have more.


Am I right?  


It's a hot commodity. 

So, those rare beautiful moments, when you actually have peace and quiet, what do you do?

What I want is a day to myself to just sit with a cup of coffee in my hand...

and my nose in a book...er, my Kindle.

I kind of daydream about it.  It would be a day where I wouldn't feel guilty for not cleaning the house or doing something responsible.  I wouldn't have anywhere I was supposed to be.  It would just be me and my Kindle...and that cup of coffee.

How often do you get free time?  What do you do with it when you get it?

-Mrs. Edwards

iMOM of NE Oklahoma with Money Saving Queen

We have a great group of  moms that meets here in Northeast Oklahoma. We meet monthly with the a unique focus equipping mothers with information, ideas and encouragement for real life. Our  group is geared towards moms of all stages; babies to grandbabies. 

Ashley and her cutie-patooties!

This month we had Sarah Roe, Money Saving Queen, speak on Blogging. She has a new class on February 24th called Blogging 101. If you have a blog, are thinking of starting a blog or just interested in blogs, you should check it out. Sarah is an awesome girl, very down to earth and generous with her time. 

The awesome Money Saving Queen in Red.

We try to have a testimony from a local mom whose life has been challenged in some way. This month Shelly Rogers shared how she survived a rare, rare heart condition. Heart disease is the #1 killer of America women. Shelly spoke to us about how we need to pay attention to our bodies and take action to stop this disease. Check out the information on the Tulsa Heart Walk.

Shelley and her dear friend Jessica.

We enjoy our kiddos each month as well. They get to play and have fun, while we moms get to learn some new things and enjoy some adult conversation.

 

For more info on our mom's group, visit our Facebook Page, iMOMs of NE Oklahoma

For lots of great, free resources visit the website, imom.com

 Special thanks to Dawn's Diversions for the great pics from our event!

 Lauri Rottmayer from Rott-I-Tude  and Dawn - Beautiful.

So, what do you do to refresh and recharge your housewife battery? 

It's FRIDAY. Yay! Here's to a great weekend. 

We are having a RHOK Out tonight, 

hope to see YOU there.

Happy Weekend -
Mrs. Montgomery

The Great Kid Debate

We've been having a great debate around the Edward's house lately.  I like to call it The Great Kid Debate.  It seems as though everyone from my third uncle to my son thinks that we need an addition to our family.  I think the subject is on every one's mind due to the fact that we're currently adding onto our house.  I guess more bedrooms = more kids or something.  If I would have known about this phenomenon prior to construction, I might have reconsidered.  OK, probably not, but you know. 

Now, I'm feeling like I'm part of some sort of conspiracy. 

The truth is that I'm freaking out a little.  We got pregnant with our little boy less than a month after we moved into our house and now that we're building on, I'm a little concerned that this might happen again.

YES.  I know how that happens.

*let's pause a moment while I breathe into a paper bag*

I love kids.  I really really do.  Ask anybody.  But when it comes to me having more, I just tend to...well, I freak.  I VIVIDLY remember sleepless nights, going days without a shower, feeling like I could just sit around and cry all day, worrying about EVERYTHING...it all feels like it happened yesterday, but it wasn't.  It was seven years ago!  SEVEN YEARS.  That's when I start thinking things like, we've waited too long or what if I can't get pregnant anymore??  If I got pregnant today, our kids would be almost 8 years apart!

How many years apart are your kids?  How many years is too much?   Wouldn't it be like raising two only children? 

Could I live through that? 

I really need your help.

Mimi just emailed me and told me, and I quote, "I could see you having 8 kids"!  WTH? 

I think they got to her too.

The one breathing into a paper bag with her head between her knees,

~Mrs. Edwards

I've Had An Epiphany

I know why I love you guys so much.  I've been trying to put my finger on it and it finally occurred to me why I'm so head-over-heals for all of you.  Yeah, you.  You sitting there behind the computer screen.

Take a little side-trip with me...

I have a question for you.

Do you ever feel like you are ignored?  

I do.  I sometimes feel like nobody is listening to me. 

Even Belle ignores me.

Go lay down.

Stop drinking out of the toilet.

Do NOT eat that.

You are a dog!

Get in this house!

Nothing.  
Everything is in her time and because she wants to.

Little people also ignore me.

Use your inside voice.

DO.NOT.RUN in the house/school/church.

LIFT BOTH LIDS.  (That one applies to the big and the little)

Sometimes I feel like things I say fall on deaf ears.

I do have a few people who I can count on to truly LISTEN to me.  Thank you, you know who you are.

So, this brings me back to my epiphany and why I love you guys so much.  I mean other than the fact that you're a bunch of uber fun people and that I love to read what you write...besides that...you listen to me (to us).  You're like our captive little audience.  For a brief moment, you hang out here on our blog and read what we write (or at least skim).  Thank you.

Do you ever feel totally ignored?  Is that one of the reasons you blog...to have a voice? You can tell me.  I'm here.  Listening.  I'll be your captive little audience. ☻

Sorry for the rant.  Thanks for listening.

~Mrs. Edwards

Monday MckLinky: Superhero

Today's question is a little bit of a fun one, since it's a holiday and all. I know we all wish we had super powers sometimes. Oh, how it'd make life easier! Don't you think?

I have given a lot of thought about my powers, and here's what I've come up with: I'd need to see the future, of course. And I need to have mystical meal making powers. You know, to develop food out of thin air. Okay actually, I'd just need the all the powers of Samantha, on Bewitched with a little Alice & Edward thrown in for good measure. Also, the uncanny ability to be in 4 places at once.

And, what would I look like? Well, I designed myself up right here, of course.

You better believe I'd be the Mom Wonder! Now, if only I could figure out a way for this to happen, including that body. It'd be awesome messing with people getting so much done around here. A girl can dream, can't she?

How about you? What kind of superhero would you be? Play along with us!

Rules:

1. Answer the question on your blog (or in the comments sections if you haven't a blog).

2. If you answer the question on your blog, add your name to MckLinky so that we all can discover the brilliance that is your mind.

3. Grab our button from the sidebar and post it either in your reply post or on your blog.

4. Enjoy and have some fun!

~~Mrs. Sinclair

]

Boys of Fall

Somehow the "summer" faded, and nothing got done on my to-do list. I really hate how things seem to move so fast sometimes. But, then I got to thinking, since when does school start before mid-August? I am NOT a fan.

August in Oklahoma is stinking HOT, people.

Going back to school in 100+ means our kids cannot even go out to recess for 15 minutes. However, they can practice football for a few hours. The boys picked up on this right away, don't kid yourselves. They're no dummies. Like I said this is Oklahoma, and in August men temporarily to lose their minds we start football, excessive heat warnings or not.

Since August 2nd, Mrs. Hart and I have had the pleasure of hanging outside for hours when it was 112 degrees. You would think I would have sweated myself skinny, but sadly, I don't even have that to show for it. I just have a lot of used up deodorant sticks, water bottles, and lots of extra stinky clothes to wash. I've already started to live for Wednesdays and Sundays when we are free!

I cannot even tell you how crazy hot it has been out there. And I wasn't even running in a helmet. Miserable, hot, sticky, sweaty, and sometimes- annoying. It's hard to see or remember your fondness for football when you're too hot to breathe. Now, imagine the feelings of some of the 360 boys out there.

But, then, I found this:



And my love was restored. Thanks, Kenny. (if you are unable to view embedded video, click here to view)

I wish the boys could watch it before every practice and game.  Then maybe the complaining would subside, and their enthusiasm would help them through the heat as the boys of summer become the boys of fall.

So, here's to the fall: cool nights, crisp mornings, fun for all, and football! Because, if you're from here, you know all about Oklahoma's love for the game.

~Mrs. Sinclair

This Kiss

I have three children, the oldest of whom is a 13 1/2 year old girl.

It was inevitable. We knew it was coming. We have been telling ourselves for years it was going to happen. We have tried to become as prepared as possible.

She has a boyfriend.

*cue dramatic, scary music, maybe a lightning flash and thunder clap*

Actually this isn't her first one. And actually actually, this boyfriend was her first boyfriend all the way back in 4th grade. They have history. Eeek.

She is not your typical 13 year old. And by not typical I mean "She is a knockout, turns heads everywhere we go, has a figure that could (and probably will someday) stop traffic and looks more like a 16 year old" Someone hold me. Fortunately, she is very modest and doesn't like to show off a lot of skin and/or shake what her momma gave her. This doesn't ever have to change. In fact, we talked seriously about trying to set her up with one of the teenage Duggar boys. Those Duggars don't kiss until their wedding day. But apparently those Duggars do like to......

Nevermind. We're not going there.

My daughter and her boyfriend are both really good kids. They go to the same school and are in the same grade. He and his family recently started going to the same church we attend. He lives about three miles from us, which is thankfully mostly highway so I really don't worry too much about either of them sneaking out right now to walk to a secret rendezvous spot between the two houses. Abby's pretty scared of cars. This is totally to our advantage. I will show her graphic images of car vs. pedestrian accidents if that's what it takes to keep her from even entertaining the thought of a mid-night tryst.

I remember being 13 and stating loudly and proudly that kissing was "gross" and if I was never kissed that'd be fine by me. A mere two years later I was singing a different tune, a tune that sounded more like two mouths in a slobbery liplock.

I don't know if they've kissed. I'm not sure I want to know. Okay, maybe just a little. Nope, changed my mind. Welllll.......okay, no. That's my final answer. For now.

My first kiss happened in October of 1987. I was perilously close to 15. I had held strong to my "gross" declarations until that fated night when I found myself alone with Jeremy Foust in the back of Mason Gurley's mom's Mercedes parked at a Sonic in Joplin. A group of us kids had gone to Joplin, MO, (driven by parents since we were all 14 and 15) to go through spook houses that night. After the final spooky excursion the Mercedes decided to give up the ghost. Apparently all my friends, including my bestie DeLisa, decided that Jeremy and I needed to have a love connection that night and managed to get the two of us in that car alone. And after the Mercedes was again up and running the two of us were the only kids in that car while the other seven crammed themselves into the other vehicle. (Oh, the days of no seatbelt laws.) Mason's mom was totally cool as Jeremy put the moves on me and if she saw what we were doing (she had to have seen what we were doing) (suddenly I feel the need to apologize to that woman) (guess I'll have to Google her) she never let on. There was a lot of slobber swapped in that car that night. It kind of makes me giggle and gag to think about it.

Later that night DeLisa and I were lying in sleeping bags on my bedroom floor, giggling at my descriptions of the countless times Jeremy and I had sucked face, I felt so grownup and mature.

And that is why I will never let my daughter leave the house again. Or ride in a Mercedes. Or go to spook houses....

I think I'll finish this post and go see if anyone is having a sale on turtlenecks in her size.


~~Mrs. Nesbitt

The Reason

I’ve been a housewife for 13 of the past 14 years and folks, I know soap operas paint a lovely picture, but this life ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Harriet Nelson and June Cleaver were the pioneer-esses.....pionesses....uhm....pioneer women of homemakers and they did it all while wearing skirts and pearls and sensible pumps.

Folks, you probably have figured out that there isn’t a one of us here at the RHOK that lives the calm, organized life of the 1950's TV housewife. Well, maybe Mrs. Robinson, but no one’s really sure about her. She is a mystery, that woman.

Yesterday morning I woke up at 3:30 to the sound of crashing thunder, torrential rain and a beautiful lightning show - and the realization my daughter and I would not be going on the 2nd grade field trip that day. I, however, had promised to take the kids to school and not make them ride that horrible bus (Oh, the HORROR) so I got up and started the morning routine of coffee, shower, makeup, tame the mane and bark out orders to the school-age minions. And since the littlest Nesbitt wasn’t going to school anyway and our day was essentially plan-less I called the doctor to get her an appointment to see about this cough she has had for nearly two weeks. Oh and have I mentioned I babysit a not-quite-2 year old?

We got back home after the school run to eat a bite of breakfast (Froot Loops in a old butter dish for the toddler while Oswald the Octopus cavorted on the screen) and ingest more coffee and while I was trying to figure out a way to get the coffee directly into my liver I got a text from Mrs. Hart asking me where my post was for that day. ACK! Our calendar has been rearranged a few times lately and I just flat overlooked a post. And because of the weather I had no internet at home so I was helpless on this end. Several crazy texts and a calming phone call from Mrs. McGillicutty later and all was right in RHOKlahoma again. Then it was off to the doctor’s office. In the rain. While dragging a 2 year old and an 8 year old. An 8 year old who likes to talk. A lot. About nothing. All. The. Time. Really, there are times I just nod a lot.

Now....also know I didn’t do any of this in pearls. Or heels. Or a skirt. (I haven’t owned a skirt since 1997.) I did it in my comfy jeans, Adidas and a Sooners hoodie, my hair pulled back in a clip and a minimum of makeup. June Cleaver would’ve gasped I was seen in public in such a way.

Fast forward past the doctor appointment to where I went to my mom’s office to partake of her high-speed internet so I could order my husband some golf clubs. Then we got a lead on some cheaper golf clubs. So I didn’t need the internet anyway, but Mom bought us lunch so it wasn’t a total loss.

Upon arriving home Mr. Nesbitt was disappointed I hadn’t ordered his golf clubs, but I offered to accompany him to the sporting goods store to look at a set there since we’ve been on The Great Golf Club Quest for weeks now. He hesitated - probably because he thought I looked a little unstable what with the sweatshirt with snot smeared down one sleeve, my hair resembling Phyllis Diller’s and eyeliner on only one eye because I forgot I had makeup on and had rubbed my eye earlier. He was desperately looking for a way out when I got a text from a friend asking us to dinner.

GROWNUP DINNER! Anyone with children knows the value of a good grownup dinner. Heck, there are times I've been grateful for a bad grownup dinner.

I made a quick call to my mother who gladly agreed to watch the kids (she must've heard the depseration in my voice) and I skipped merrily down the hall to fix my hair and makeup, put on a bra that actually hoisted the ol’ girls into position better than the one I had worn all day under that oversized sweatshirt and I put on earrings. My ears cried a little, they’re so used to being left naked these days.

I had a manic little smile on my face all the way to Mom’s because if something had happened at that point to ruin our dinner plans I would’ve just lost it right there in the car. Fortunately we made it out of town and managed to buy him some golf clubs AND make it to dinner just exactly on time.

We sat for two hours in that restaurant with our adult friends and had conversations that not once involved telling anyone to stop touching the one sitting next to them. I didn’t one time have to give anyone the skunk-eye for rolling their eyes at me. And I didn't have to cut up anyone's meat or beg them try a vegetable.

The drive back to town was quiet and Mr. Nesbitt and I chatted quietly, held hands and soaked up the last few minutes of couple-dom. We picked up the kids who were sleepy and quiet and well, I have to admit that I think I felt a little of the euphoria that June Cleaver must’ve felt. I smiled to myself and thought, “Oh yes, this is why I do what I do. This is it. These quiet moments when everyone is harmonious and we’re all happy and no one is fighting...” I sighed a deep sigh of contentedness and took my husband’s hand as we drove home in the quiet.

We pulled in the driveway, roused the sleepy kids and turned the key in the door while Mr. Nesbitt unloaded the precious golf clubs from the trunk. As I turned on the entryway light one of the kids, no longer in a sleepy stupor, screamed, “THERE IS A FROG IN THE HOUSE!!” and the next few moments involved me screaming at my husband, the youngest jumping onto furniture, the boy looking for his BB gun and the eldest trying to find a cup so she could trap the frog. Mr. Nesbitt came in, tossed the clubs valiantly aside and immediately came to the rescue of his family.

I stood in the entryway, partially frozen by my fear and loathing of frogs and partially by the way that moment of cacophony and chaos and noise and frightened jumping aphibians.....well....

I realized something. That was the reason I do what I do. The craziness of it all. The noise. The chaos. The squealing. The boy running for a gun, the girls screaming....and me being there to enjoy it all.


Pearls or not.

Oh, and the golf clubs? They are left handed. Mr. Nesbitt? Isn't.


~~Mrs. Nesbitt

Chaos = Motherhood

The month of May is always a hectic one at my house. I live a very unexciting life as a general rule, but May sends my sense of security and my calm life flying out the window with my sanity. I can only imagine with May will be like when all three of my kids are in high school. Actually, I'd rather not imagine. Let's let it be a surprise.

In times like these past few weeks I tend to perform the most classic of cartoon reactions to cataclysmic events and extraordinary circumstances – I start waving my hands in the air, running around in circles and screaming at the top of my lungs. Okay, not really, but I might as well be doing just that - and in my mind I really am. I like order. I like routine. I like things to be simple and normal and … predictable.

I was the kid who never truly “played” with her Barbies; I spent an inordinate amount of time, however, dressing them, combing their hair and then standing them on stands where I could admire the fact they were perfectly neat and orderly. When I was done playing I put them back in their original clothes and put them up in my obsessively organized cases. My little sister had naked Barbies with chopped hair, magic marker tattoos and roughly 4,267 shoes and not one matched another and at the end of the day they all got stuffed in shoe boxes, ziploc bags and shoved in the bottom of the closet. Based on the comparison of our Barbies alone you can probably tell that Sis has always been a little more adept at rolling with life's little speed bumps than I have ever been.

Motherhood, however, has made me a tad more flexible and for this I am truly thankful. It has been my children who have forced me to hold it together and sometimes enjoy the chaos of life.  My oldest likes order as much as I do, but sitting with her and coloring for hours – sometimes outside the lines, but most of the time inside - or rocking her and singing silly songs that made no sense (even though in my head they really needed to rhyme) was the beginning of my realization that order wasn't all it was cracked up to be. That boy of mine only furthered this realization. He has a sense of curiosity about everything he encounters. Taking a walk with him was never about taking an actual walk. Walks with him were about squatting down to inspect an ant trail or kicking a rock or seeing how close we could get to a squirrel before it would run away. He liked to scream and make noise and his energy and love of chaos keeps me breathless. My youngest is a drama queen who can never ever be figured out. She is happy one minute, crying her heart out the next. She is the epitome of chaos, but in a totally good way.

I wouldn't want Stepford children who have perpetually clean rooms....wait, I reserve the right to take that one back at any point. I love the absolute upside-down feeling I sometimes get when I have a house full of kids, only three of which I gave birth to. It's noisy and messy and the sheer mess they make is a part of my life I wouldn't give up for all the neatly labeled containers in the world. If it weren't for these kids and their friends and their crazy little lives I'd be even less capable of dealing with life's little unexpected turns of events.

Awhile back my mom and I were in my pantry looking for something. I was taking a moment to gripe while standing in my horribly clutter-filled utility room. I was exasperated. She said I needed more room in my pantry. I said I just needed a bigger house. She chuckled and said, “Well, maybe just a little more organization.” I sighed, put my hands on my hips and retorted, “Well, if we would just cancel our trip to Disney World this winter then we could started building on to the house!”

And because she is the wisest person I know, she patted my shoulder and softly said, “But your kids will only be this little once. And really, Disney World is much more important than a bigger pantry and another bathroom.” Then she went back to the other room and left me to stop doing my virtual cartoon freakout in my head as I stared at my pantry that had bags of potato chips spilling out onto the shelf below, a box of Goldfish crackers that hadn't gotten quite closed the last time someone had a snack, a package of Oreos my oldest had claimed with a Sharpie marker warning exclaiming they were “POISON!” and “TOXIC!” and “MINE!” and I resisted the urge to immediately straighten things up. I decided at that moment I would rather tolerate this one area of disorganization in order to see my youngest enjoy the magic of Tinker Bell flying out of the castle, my son “training” as a Jedi and my oldest screaming, “THIS IS AWESOME!” as we ride the Tower of Terror for the sixth time in one day.

Were it not for those three little chaotic miracles of mine I would have orderly cabinets brimming with maybe some sensible oatmeal packets, fiber bars and not one single packet of Kool-aid. There would be no fight over the last Oreo because apparently the younger ones don't believe for a second when Abby says they're poisoned. The initials KDH wouldn't be written in the dust on every surface in my living room courtesy of one Tinker Bell-loving eight-year-old. I wouldn't know the joy of picking up a trail of dirty socks, winding up the cord on the flat iron for the three-millionth time or trying to figure out how to get Silly Putty out of a comforter. I wouldn't be as knowledgeable as I am about wookiees and dragons and flying pixies. I wouldn't know the craziness that is dance team try-outs or the absolute joy of burping contests. Okay, no, I take that back - my husband and I would still have the burping contests regardless of parental status. I'm pretty sure of that.

But were it not for those three kids life would be very organized, very serene...

And very, very boring.



~~Mrs. Nesbitt

Summer in Green Country (on a little green)

What do you mean there are only 4 more weeks of school?  I'm a little shocked about that one, I don't know about y'all.

In the never ending quest to keep children occupied and not fighting over the summer, I give to you a few ideas you might persue around our little corner of green country. What's better- you can do them all on just a little of the green stuff.

A. Tulsa Statue Tour:  My kids and I did this over a couple of days one week last summer. We visited the "praying hands" at ORU, the giant Driller at the fairgrounds, and several of the large nature statues along the riverwalk.  At each we got out and got up close and personal.  The kids loved seeing how big the things were close up. Not just driving by! It puts them in a whole new perspective. And, great photo ops.

B. Tunnels & Skyscrapers: Did you know there are underground tunnels that connect the buildings in downtown Tulsa? (They also have them in Bartlesville!)  My kids and I just learned about the Tulsa ones at the end of last summer, and didn't get a chance to explore that yet.  But it's on the list this summer!

C. Spavinaw Creek and Little Blue State Parks:  These are places over by Grand Lake in the towns of Spavinaw and Disney, respectively. These are spring fed, cold water creeks, and they are indeed, freezing but the water is CLEAR. A site to see! My kids and I have been going every summer for a day trip, over the last few years. We take a picnic and the dog and play in the water, try and catch fish (minnows), explore, find rocks, & enjoy the extreme change of scenery. It's a long day, but its worth it.

D. Water Park Tour:  One day each week we try to visit a water or splash park. We really like the new QT park at 41st & Riverside. It's right on the river and holds the older kids attention better, in my opinion.

E. The Drive-In theatre: Also one we haven't gotten to try yet, but its on the list! Out of all the things I've just mentioned....this is the only one that charges admisson.

It seems each summer moves faster & faster, so I try not to procrastinate and have a (flexible) plan in place. Happy kids mean a happy housewife, afterall.  All of the sudden time moves very, very fast since getting old (er).  I just know it moved at snail's pace when I was about 15.  Now, it seems super sonic. I hope we're making some memories in the midst of it all!  If you try out some of the suggestions, make sure and let us know! We love to hear from our readers.

Enjoy the summer, wherever you are!

~Mrs. Sinclair~