Good Karma

Someone recently sent me "good karma" on facebook. Undoubtedly, this was undeserved, but I was grateful it came my way.

My body has not fully recovered from babysitting, illness and many sleep deprived nights. I was particularly exhausted when Owen woke Sunday morning at 5 am with more blood draining from his ear. Illness or pain are the only trump cards he can play to get up before 7. Trump won.

I arrived at church early (with a tired and cranky Owen) to play prelude on the organ. I scanned the pews to find some victim to take my child while I played. Not a soul in sight. Finally, five minutes before the meeting began people began to arrive. My neighbor (who by the way has three children of her own) graciously offered to watch Owen while I played the organ and Joey, a member of the bishopric, conducted the meeting. As a side note, this neighbor is the type of person who is sooooo good, kind, charitable, giving, etc., etc., etc., you might make it into heaven just by knowing her. Right now, that's the only card I have. She held a crying Owen while his mother sat at the organ exhausted and sobbing.

I was very grateful for her at that moment. I was further grateful for a loving husband who promptly took Owen home following the meetings so I could fulfill my other two callings without stress or strain. Joey then took Owen while I crashed for two hours that afternoon. Then, as if I deserved even more blessings, someone anonymously left a delicious meal at our doorstep.

I have found the blessings tend to come in batches, just so the recipient knows it isn't a fluke. Three weeks ago, the same good karma rolled our way. Within one 24 hour time period, I found out I could get private health insurance (which was, by the way, no small thing), Joey received funding for his PhD, and the most exciting story to tell is Joey winning $500 for sinking a 3-point shot at a Utah game. As Joey can attest, it pays to be a devoted fan.

I am feeling grateful today. Grateful for the people who give of themselves - time, meals, love - to make my life richer. I have found that life can be difficult, exhausting and down right hard at times, but blessings will trickle in to give you the energy to face a new day. I am grateful for the good karma sent my way. Pass it on. Do something extraordinary tomorrow for someone undeserving. I'm glad someone did it for me.

Paige, Meg, Gone?

Yes, we arrived back home from our adventures in babysitting on Wednesday. We had been in our boring apartment not quite an hour when Owen went to the front door, and said in a very sad voice "Go? Go?" Soon his desperation was complete when he said, "Paige, Meg, Gone?" Okay. Now my heart was breaking.

Here are the many reasons we are sad to be home:

1. Mail and milk brought right to your home. You don't need to brave the wind, snow or heat for a five minute walk to go to the mailroom.
   
2. Attached garage.
   
3. Double-headed shower. Granted, most homes don't have this, but Joey's sister's does. Heaven in a bathroom.
   
4. Jacuzzi tub. Owen and Paige would go "swimming" daily. Hours of good, clean fun.
   
5. An entire basement devoted to children. A small playground if you will. The kids could run wild, play and scream and our neighbors didn't hear a sound.
   
6. A backyard with gates to nearby neighbors and friends.
   
7. A house big enough that you can vacuum, laugh, talk, etc., etc., etc., without fear of waking the baby.
   
8. A master bedroom that is actually a master bedroom. I could easily do cartwheels or toe touches in the room without fear of breaking something or myself.
   
9. Water dispenser and ice machine in the refrigerator. I drank more water the last week and a half than I have my entire life.
   
10. Tanner. This is one of the coolest 14-year-old boys I know. He is fairly responsible, extremely loving and has a sense of humor like my brother's (bodily functions and all). I loved talking him once Owen and the girls were in bed. He even watched Food Network with me. (Owen is saying Tanner as I write - oh, sad).
    
11. Meg. Owen called both Meg and Paige "Meg." If Meg wasn't related and six years older than he, I think he would want to marry her. She'd carry him down stairs, lift him onto the slide, get him toys, help him when he was hurt - a second mom, but with more spunk.
    
12. Paige. Owen's playmate from 7:30 am to 7:30 pm. She'd great him with a smile and would fill the house with laughter. She could not keep her hands off of him and couldn't resist being around him. Even when I was laying him down for a nap, she had to watch - as if to soak up every last waking minute of him. She'd even translate for me when he would talk in unclear sentences. Funny, Paige translating. Sometimes she needs a translator herself. She is one of the purest people I know. I'm sad she's not here now.
    

I am sure there is more and I will probably be adding to the list as the days go on. I love those kids and feel like the days (and nights) are not quite complete without them. In a dream world, I'd be with them, in their house all day (except during nap time and at 10:30 when I go to bed). That would be my life - filled with some of the most wonderful children I know and in a home where there is happiness, laughter and a little bit of chaos. We love you! Can't wait to see you soon.

My Valentine

I saw this on a couple of friend's blogs and I thought it was very appropriate today. Here is a little bit about my valentine:

What is his name? Anthony Joseph. Joey are Joe as I call him.
How long have you been married? 5 1/2 years.
How old is he? 27
Who eats more? Burritos, beans and rice - Joey. Ridiculous, heaping amounts of ice cream - me.
Who said I love you first? Me. He had to “figure out” what it means to love someone. Which means there was not a return “I love you” when I said it. Sad day.
Who is taller? Joey
Who sings better? Joey. His band has a CD and he sings lead vocals. I was a music teacher for four year years, but would never claim to be capable of singing publicly. I sing in front of kids, their parents or poor teacher and that's it.
Who is smarter? With books like Digital Signal Processing sitting on our table, a live-in computer science expert and math genius living in our house, Joey is definitely smarter. But, for what it is worth, I kill Joey in Sudoku. Ask him, he gets mad.
Whose temper is worse? Temper? Well, I'll just say we are equally opinionated.
Who does the laundry? Me. Thank heavens for a super capacity washer.
Who does the dishes? I cook, he cleans up.
Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? I do. The left side is against the wall. I get up several times at night, so I need easy access to the door without climbing over him.
Who pays the bills? Hello, I did mention computer savvy husband right? Everything is automatic withdrawals online. I do however do the taxes and take care of all the junk mail and documents that come to our house. Ooooooh, that stuff irritates him.
Who mows the lawn? Ha, ha. I'd love to if we had one.
Who cooks dinner? I cook the first one. He microwaves his 10 pm burrito dinner.
Who drives when you are together? Whoever is less cranky.
Whose parents do you see the most? Our parents live across the street from one another. We see them both fairly frequently.
Who is more sensitve? Cry baby me.
Who has more friends? Joey. Hands down. I'm a loser, what can I say?
Who has more siblings? Joey is the youngest of five. I am the middle of three.
Who wears the pants in the family? Joey, but I wear a great shirt.

I am glad to say that Joey is my valentine. Love you babe.

Better, Badder, Uglier

Our nine day babysitting extravaganza can only be labeled: comedic tragedy.

Better: By day three (and following the late night make him "cry it out" episode), Owen was sleeping through the night beautifully. 12 hours. We can't complain.

Badder: Meg, age 7, woke several times that same night, with the stomach flu. Joey lovingly tickled her head, got her water in between trips to the toilet to throw up. The following night, Owen woke with a bloody ear. I took him to Instacare. He had a plugged tube in his ear that had created a dam in his ear, creating a ton of pressure. It finally blew creating a bloody, pussy, mess. Consequently, the hours preceding the eruption were miserable. Owen was inconsolable. Six hours of "try not to hit something, kill someone, or lay down and cry" miserable for baby and mom. We took the girls to Grandma's house last night so we could try to get some rest. This morning, left ear has joined right ear, producing equal amount of liquid and puss.

Uglier: Owen likes playing with Meg's Hannah Montana doll.

Sad Day for Republicans

A brief note on the election . . .

I profess to be neither a Republican nor a Democrat. I took a class in college that thoroughly discussed the need for parties, particularly in their creation of our great country. But, as I have headed out to the polls, I have sincerely tried to make my decisions based on character, integrity and vision - not party affiliation. Obviously, I have found myself on both sides of the fence.

Despite Joey's frustration at the need to affiliate with a party in order to vote this past Super Tuesday, I conceded, and for the first time ever, declared myself "Republican" in order to put the "X" next to Mitt Romney's name. Granted, I will be calling the clerk's office shortly, to once again be "unaffiliated," but I thought it was important this time.

Today is a sad day for Mitt fans (and I might venture to say Republicans) because Romney has officially suspended his campaign. Which means, consequently, Senator John McCain will be representing the Republicans (I won't even pretend to hide my disappointment). The better man did not come out on top. Thank you Mitt, for conceding with grace, dignity and charm. You have come into your own these last few months, and will be the man to beat in 2012. Maybe, I will have to re-affiliate then too.

Adrenaline Rush

We are currently staying at my sister-in-law's house watching her three wonderful children. We have suddenly gone from a family of three to a family of six in one short day. Although they are wonderful children, the whole process has shown me the good, bad and ugly of babysitting.

The good:

• Owen has two best friends. Meg, 7, totes Owen around on her hip and he worships her - he cried when she left for school and even called out her name instead of "mama" in the middle of the night (too bad she wasn't "on call"). Paige, 4, loves him tirelessly. I found the two eating cupcakes early this morning.
  
• Owen's new found friends, my secret babysitters, have allowed me to write a quick post, prepare a talk, plan a lesson, cook dinner, take a shower, work out, etc. without Owen at my leg.
  
• Meg, Paige, Tanner (14), are each incredible children. It is nice to be home with laughter, conversation and excitement every night.
  

The bad:

• Owen is not napping well in his makeshift bedroom. He has exchanged his midday three-hour nap for a 45 minute cat nap.
  
• He isn't sleeping at night either. Tuesday night, we woke three times before midnight. I called it a loss and let him snuggle with me on the couch before we retired to bed sometime after 1am.
• Last night, we let him cry it out. He fell asleep beautifully, but woke at 1. His lungs didn't stop until 2:45. I tossed and turned until 4 for a brief nap until 6:45 when kids needed to be up and at 'em for school.
  
• I feel like a new mom, but without the napping perks.
  

The ugly:

• Me. I am exhausted. If it wasn't for a surge of adrenaline and the excitement of managing six people's schedules, I'd be passed out somewhere. Babysitters, nannies, and moms do not make enough money. Two days down, six to go.
  

The Other Michele Wilson

Believe it or not, but all the boys in the Wilson household married either a Michele or Michelle. Here is the former with her daughter Samantha:

Michele is a fabulously hip, hardworking and devoted wife, mother, sister and friend. Believe me, everyone wants her to draw their name for the Wilson family Christmas gift exchange. Not only will she buy everything on your "wish" list, but she will throw in a few goodies that you didn't know you wanted, but are so grateful to have. The first year I took part in the gift exchange, she had my name. I was floored by the overflowing gift bag I received. I couldn't believe a person could be so ridiculously generous to someone they were still getting to know. This is typical Michele. She truly is one of the most giving people I have met.

She is also stylish, talented (she has a J.D. after her name in addition to being quite the snowboarder - what a combination!) and loving. Our family is better for having her in it. Happy Birthday Michele!