Mobile Memories

Since I haven't blogged for so long, how about an update in the way of mobile memories-pics I've taken on my phone for the past month?

Cashing in Pizza Hut reading rewards on early-out day:

 H and his best friend Charlotte, playing their own version of hop scotch:

 The school carnival (as you can tell, the hair-painting booth was pretty popular):

 One last trip to the zoo with friends!

 Minecraft Mania in the neighbor's garage:

 Sweetie got her ears pierced! She was very brave:

 Girls' Night Out pedicures!

 Sweetie's 2nd Grade Puppet Show. Sweetie was the narrator of the Little Red Hen:

Memorial Day swimming at the Rocks! Little Zelly's first time swimming: 

 

 The box fort

 Now for some post-move pics . . . An evening down by the creek with cousins:

 Our hike to the Y, which H kept calling "the Z."  "Are we at that Z yet, mom?" he'd ask.  The kids were such troopers! It was fun to take a break from the moving mayhem and get out together. We had plans to hit the water park, but the high was 78, and we Arizonans do not swim when it's 78. That's winter weather!

 

 Ending the hike with treats from the BYU Creamery

Home Sweet Home

We are working on changing our mental picture of "home, sweet home."  Here is an actual picture of the new reality:

It seems like forever since we moved and yet we're still eating on the card table and are surrounded by half-painted walls, floor samples, and boxes. Part of me doesn't really want to remember the misery of the move--packing and loading and cleaning nonstop until after 10pm consecutive nights in a row (with the kids and baby going crazy around us), a moving truck that never showed, movers who were 5 hours late, a changed delivery date of our possessions, etc. etc. But the other part of me never wants to forget the goodness of the people who surrounded us--friends who helped pack; neighbors who dropped off treats, returned library books, ran errands; and friends who came over to clean without a moment's notice--just sensing the desperation in my voice when they called to see how things were going (or were not going!). Endings and beginnings are hard, and while I'm excited for the future possibilities that this move brings us, I will be forever grateful for the people God allowed me to learn from and associate with in the spot of the universe where we lived the last 8 1/2 years.

Cleaning My Way to Heaven

So I suspect that the way to heaven has a whole lot more to do with love than with cleaning, a thought which would usually fill me with thanksgiving, as my cleaning often leaves a lot to be desired.  But I feel as though I should receive some heavenly rewards for the work of the past 48 hours, which has included the following:

• vomit clean-up on bedding and carpets and beds, all without the help of a washing machine, which I sold on Craigslist the morning of the vomit-fest
• the disgusting accumulation of 8.5 years worth of grime underneath said washing machine
• the baby's loose bowels over plenty of outfits (again, without the help of washing machine)
• the 3 year old's pee off of the bedroom floor and his clothes, his way of voicing his displeasure at being put in time-out (and even though I made him go to the bathroom before time-out because this is not an isolated incident)
• broken glass due to the 8 year old's encounter with all of the lightbulbs I'd removed from the lamps to pack them
• an entire box of Cheez-Its, a bag of Goldfish, a half a container of Pringles, and a good amount of pretzels ground into the carpet by the 3 year old

Add that to the fact that J is out-of-town, all of the extra bedding and bowls were packed before the vomit incident, and that all 4 of the children got up in the night last night and the baby got up 3 times. Surely that warrants at least a guesthouse in the back of my heavenly mansion? 

As I rocked little Zelly to sleep tonight and snuggled her close, I said a quick prayer in that moment of peace and I thought about how that prayer is different than the prayers I uttered in my desperate times when Mister was a baby and had C-diff and never slept. Then I begged Heavenly Father for sleep. I begged, I bartered, I threatened, even. Tonight I prayed that my little one would sleep better, but I added, "and if she doesn't, help me to be able to deal with it."  I feel like I'm a little better at the dealing with it than I used to be. So maybe the cleaning has helped me on my way to heaven after all.