White Trash Next Door

Is it rude to put your extra bags of trash in your neighbor's garbage can? I didn't think so, but I'm afraid I've offended the neighbors. Last week I put our extra white bags of trash in the their container. I have been dejunking and have lots of extra trash. We live in townhomes and we share garages so our trash cans usually stand side-by-side on the street. This morning, I noticed that their trash can is clear uphill at the next house. Considering, the logistics of the townhomes, this doesn't make any sense. They had to go way out of their way to take it up there. I hope it wasn't because of me--but I can't think of any other reason they would do that. Oops! I guess I should have asked, I just didn't think it was a big deal. I mean, you don't get charged extra for the amount of trash the city picks up.

Mud (then) Bath

This is what happens when you're busy cleaning house, baking, and noticing the kids have been quiet for a long time....Wait! They've been quiet for way too long.

Their clothes were in a pile on the patio. There were fun little mud holes created from yesterday's rain. How could they resist.

I love child labor

Yes...I forgot that a video camera is not like a camera and you can't adjust the horizontal angle, but you can still see what he is doing. He loves to vacuum. He'll be two in one month! I hope he is still this excited in 10 years.

I'm not perfect

This is just a random, late night contemplation, but I can't help thinking about it. Today, I told Madison that "I'm not perfect!" I was referring to not doing something exactly right. I thought about it later and realized most people say, "I'm not perfect," but no one ever says, "I'm perfect!" Later today, Brant was upset that I had moved something where he couldn't find it. My excuse to him was, "Look, I'm sorry I'm not perfect, but I'm pretty good." There it was again...those words, "I'm not perfect."

I give a lot of credence to positive self-talk and try to make sure I'm being as positive as I can. Especially, in the private moments you have with only yourself. I kept thinking about what I was saying. If I am constantly saying, "I'm not perfect," I probably won't be. What if I started saying, "Look, I'm perfect." It sounded kind of funny and unnatural, but it makes as much sense to say that as it does to point out that I'm not perfect.

I put ice cubes in the freezer and didn't spill a drop. In my mind I said, "Wow! That was perfect." It didn't make sense to say I was perfect. Several other things happened today, and I kept telling myself how perfect I was. By the end of the day, I could say, "I'm perfect!" I was also giggling alot as it still sounded funny.

I thought of Matthew 5:48: Be you therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.

That scripture clearly states that we should be perfect. We are led to believe that perfection is impossible, unattainable, and therefore not necessary to pursue. How many times have I held myself back because I didn't believe something could really happen. How can we achieve anything, if we don't believe it's possible? Perfection will never be achieved if we don't believe. I probably won't reach perfection anytime soon, but I can start working on it one little thing at a time.

I AM perfect...and so are you.

The Road Not Taken...or the Road You Were Afraid to Take

Sometimes, or even oftentimes, life changes the course you are on. Of course, it's unexpected. Of course, it's scary and even seems unsafe. Sometimes the lack of stability keeps you from making choices that would help you to follow your dreams. But then, sometimes fate steps in and you find yourself on a road you didn't choose. Sometimes it doesn't feel like a road, it feels more like the edge of a cliff. But then, something happens. That part of you that is a warrior; that seeks to not only survive, but to thrive comes outs. You exceed in ways you didn't know that you could. You have a reason, almost a desperation to follow your passions that were only dreams before. You've got nothing but the dream. And, you've got nothing to lose and possibly everything to gain. That is when the test of life helps you discover what you're made of. And then, you find yourself thanking Fate for throwing you a curve; because you've been walking all of this time, when you could have been flying instead.

Ari's Haircut

Written by Elizabeth (Lane) Hibbard, Ari's Aunt

Ari's hair has gotten so thin since the chemo, she literally has a few strands of hair growing out of her head. Haley decided to even it all up with a buzz cut. Ari got a kick out of getting her head shaved. She looks like an official cancer baby now. The hospital called and offered Ari a free trip to Disneyland as part of the Make A Wish Foundation. It is bittersweet. She is returning to the hospital on Tuesday for more chemo treatments.

At one time while I was there, Haley started putting some cream on her skin. She started screaming. I thought it was because it must have hurt or something. They had to assure her they weren't taking her to the hospital. She thought the cream was part of the hospital ritual and she did not want to go back.

Other than her pot-belly, shaved head, and Ethiopian legs, she runs around like a normal kid. She hasn't grown much in the last year. She is still quite tiny. She kind of waddles around like an old man. Mostly from the atrophy her legs experience from being in the hospital so much. She played with all of her cousins this weekend like she was just as alive as everyone else. You would never guess with her smile and disposition, that she has had more hardship in her short life than most of us put together.

It is uplifting to see her in good spirits, but no one really talks much about the inevitable. Her life is completely in the Lord's hands.

Dance, dance, dance

Bobbi is in town with her family for a dance competition. Her two oldest girls were competing. I took Madison with me to watch. We had such a fun time with "just the girls." She was mesmerized with the costumes and the dancing. Although, she got bored towards the end. She wanted to go up on the stage and dance with them. She started twirling and "dancing" in the aisles at one point. It was a lot of fun.

Springtime in St. George--LOVE IT!

We've been going to the park alot! The weather is SO perfect right now. I love it. I love warm places. I would not ever want to live in a place with snow again! The kids are having a good time, too. They went through the park sprinklers. I tried to talk them out of it, but they couldn't wait to run through the water. Of course, they were freezing after.

Lane STILL gets ticked when I take his picture. I took all of these with my phone and he still wouldn't look at me. I tried to be sneaky. He has no fear. He climbed up this grid that scared me to death. Then he tried to climb down another side. I wonder if he has any depth perception. He has decided to call Madi "M". He used to say something that sounded kind of like Madi, but now he clearly refers to her as "M". I hope he doesn't grow up to be a rapper. He has been wearing underwear--at home--he has used the toilet a couple of times. I hope he keeps it up. He'll beat Madi and Porter on getting potty trained.

Madison loves to run. She will run from one end of the grass to the other. And, believe me, it's a long distance. Porter can't even touch her. She is so fast. She has gotten really bossy. I try to tone it down. I understand she has great potential for leadership, but great leader/bossy sometimes is a fine line. I tell her to quit being so bossy. She usually responds, "I am not bossy. I am Madison." But...she's bossy.

Porter is always in the land of make-believe. He is always pretending to be Simba or Tarzan or that the monsters are attacking him. That kid has got an imagination. He is so done with afternoon naps. My two little mini-me's still like their naps. But, Porter wants to get in on all the action. It is fun to have him all to myself while the other two are asleep. He is so sweet. He is proud to be called a Mama's boy. Brant tries to tease him and call him a "Mama's Boy." He thinks it's a compliment and says, "Yep! I am." He's the one that always insists on giving me a kiss and a hug whenever I leave. This morning he also added a kiss on the cheek.

They're so much fun at this age.

The Golden Years

Someone once told me that the Golden Years of life are not when you are in your 50's and ready to retire. You're real Golden Years are the years that you are able to enjoy your young children. They are the years that your children look up to, love you, and don't argue with you. The years that you are their best friend. They're the years that your children rush to you with hugs and kisses; overjoyed with excitement that you have just walked in the door. They're the years they are happy just to be in the same room with you. I don't know what is ahead of me. Maybe there will be happier times. Right now, I just want to enjoy my Golden Years with my precious little angels.

Potty Training And Other Bathroom Stories

This time is going to be so much easier. I only have one--and I have not one, but TWO little helpers. The twins remember getting potty treats so every time Lane goes on the toilet they all want one. They are highly motivated to get him potty trained. I don't usually push very hard before they are two. I just start talking about it alot and getting all of the "tools" for potty training out. Then, when they turned two, I started really heavily with it. I was surprised how quick the twins caught on. Soon, our house will be diaper free. It will be strange, but can't complain. Lane is such a sweetheart.

Yesterday we had "potty" incidents at church. I was in class when someone came to get me because Madison had an "accident." I was like...what? Madi? Hmmm. Come to find out she told them that....and this is exactly what she said, "When I peed I sprinkled a few drops on my underwear." I told them that and they said that's what she told them, but they weren't sure how bad it was. While taking care of her, Porter had apparently gone to the bathroom. They said he had been in there for a long time and were about to send a man in to find him. About that time, he pulls the door open and he is standing there with his pants around his ankles, full on showing off his private parts. He announces, "Hey! I need wiped."

Fortunately, I was standing right there. I scooped him up before he made anyone else scream and took him into the ladies restroom. I can't wait to tell him that story when he gets older. How nice it would be to have the innocence of a child. I can just hear one of the many people he flashed going home and saying, "Guess what? I saw a penis at church today."

I caught Lane with the camera

This is one shot that Lane wasn't looking away. I think he was too cold. We went to watch Taylor's baseball game, but it was very windy and cold. We were wrapped in blankets, but the kids still had cold noses. We ended up leaving early. Lane is my little Brant. He loves those little caps that Brant wears. He also loves anything that you have to build. Tonight Brant and Brian were putting a bookshelf together for me. He loved the tools and the wood.

He has been such a cuddler. I call him Lovebug. He is still having a hard time with Nursery, although today he made it all the way through. I snuck out after about ten minutes. When he realized we qwew walking into church, he started to freak out. That's sad. But, he's getting better.

It's true, but I don't want to admit it

How can Ricky Martin be gay? I mean, I guess I can totally understand the how. Maybe why is a better question than how. "Why? Why, Ricky? Why do you have to be gay?" He's so freakin' hot and he's been my luscious Latin fantasy, I just don't want to think I had a pseudo-hot thing for a gay guy. Although, all the men I've loved before have been kind of pretty. Wow! Maybe this is a revelation for me. I don't want to mention names, because some of them are my Facebook Friends and there's no need to travel on that road called the past. I do remember one of my favorite hotties--he looked like Ricky Martin. He was handsome. He was dark. And, he could dance. Well kinda. Not as good as Ricky, but with some Kamikazes and a dance floor, he moved pretty good. Nothing against gay guys--I love 'em--this has just ruined MY fantasy. Which is really silly because I was never going to meet Ricky Martin, nor was I going to have a torrid affair with him if I did. Ah, sigh. I guess it doesn't matter. My life really isn't going to be much different whether Ricky Martin is gay or not. On with life.

Camera shy, camera guy

This kid does not like the camera. These were some shots I was able to take without him getting too disgruntled. His Dad is like that. I didn't know they could hate cameras so early on. Madison and Porter love getting their pictures taken. He is definitely the little odd caboose. I suppose he would rather be the camera man as he mimicked me with the camera battery.

He is the happiest guy in the world, unless you piss him off. Then, he's got a temper. He has this hearty laugh and finds most silly things amusing. He loves to grab my pant leg and take me to play with him. He thinks he can drag me anywhere. He's very smart and knows how to get what he wants. He's already learned that I'm the softy and he can't mess around with Dad.

Ever since we moved and the twins have left Nursery, he hates going to church. Last Sunday he was all smiles and happy to leave the house--until we walked through the doors of the church. As soon as he realized where we were, he acted like he had been ambushed and started screaming and threw himself on the floor. I picked him up and he started crying, shaking his head, and screaming, "No, no, no!" Madison and Porter just looked as us like he was crazy and walked into Primary to take their seats at the front of the class. Madison probably wanted to get there early so she could volunteer to talk or something. (She's done that more than once now--slow down!)

He is a little daredevil. He has had more falls from climbing things then the twins had put together. They were sensible. He is not. He loves the playground. I let him go down the little slide, but that wasn't exciting enough. He climbed all the way to the top of the biggest slide. I thought for sure the long fall would slow him down. Instead, he was exhilarated and wanted to do it again and again. Each time never lost its luster. He grabbed my pant leg and drug me to the top saying, "Mon, Mom!" (C'mon) He wanted me to share in this newfound excitement.

Brant started calling him "Bam, Bam" because he likes to hit things. I call him Lovebug. Brant asked him if we wanted to be called Lane or Bam, Bam. He smiled and chose the latter. Oh, how I love to watch my children. What a perfect stage they are in now.

Til We Meet Again

Today started out upbeat and promised to be productive. However, with an unexpected turn of events, my day became one I wanted to end; hoping I could wake up and have it all be a bad dream. One of the students at our school passed away from a drug overdose. We received the news around noon. I have worked in places where we have lost employees in tragic accidents. I've even lost an employee to a drug overdose before.

This is not the first time death has occurred in my workplace, but today seemed to be harder than the others. I think it was because I was not the person that was the leader this time. Before I have had to keep everyone else buoyed and be strong. I didn't feel that mantle this time. Another reason is because this time, drug addiction is hitting close to home. Someone very close to me is struggling with drug addiction. It is so hard to watch.

We held a group meeting to let everyone talk about their feelings. It was so sad to hear some of the issues that people are dealing with. There were many people in the room who are recovering addicts. They had great success stories, but those seem to be rare. The consensus was that a drug addict has only two roads in their future: death or spending their life as a recovering addict. Their minds are not right and they can't really hear or understand what those who love them are trying to say. Their minds have literally been contaminated with a disease that has one track--it's only to get drugs and to get high. Of course the addiction grows and with it the consequences.

I am so sad. My heart aches for the person I love who has this problem. Everything that was said is echoed in my experience. We can't reach this person. They are gone. The person we once knew has been buried deep into an abyss of a need for drugs. They don't even care or believe that anyone cares about them. Their self-esteem is so low, they don't feel worthy of anyone. It is so hard to know that there is nothing you can do. Now, I don't believe that means they are hopeless, it just means we have to put our faith and prayers in our Heavenly Father. It's just a helpless feeling knowing that you can't change their decisions or actions.

I cried more than I wanted to today. I prayed harder than I have in a long time. I hugged my kids and told my husband how much I love him. I am thankful for what I do have, and hopeful that I won't lose anyone to drugs.

Disneyland...some day

I had to comment on Bobbi's comment...she said, "Wait til you take your kids to Disneyland. You'll cry." We've been telling the twins that we are going to take them to Disneyland when they turn 5. Lane will get to go at 3. It's part of Brant's master parenting plan. When I talk about my goals for the kids, I'm worried about their academic pursuits and he wants to make sure they get to Disneyland every 5 years. He said that he's planning on taking them when they turn 5, 10, 15, and for one last time--when they're 20. I guess we make a good mix of parenting...my kids would hate me if I were in charge of everything. I can tend to be so boring.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago a friend of mine brought her barely 4 year old over to play with the twins. Madison asked how old he was and he said (mistakenly) that he was 5. Madison so, "Oh, are you going to Disneyland?" It was funny--just how much that little girl remembers things we tell her. Yesterday, she told Porter, "Be nice to me--I'm the only sister you have." Way to milk it, Madi.