S.O.S.

I realized something.

I was given Spice as a way to humble me.

This is the child I swore I'd never have. The one that cries when not given her way. The one that hits back when being disciplined. The one that screams in the grocery store just because she can and knows that I'm completely mortified.

She's the child my husband deserves or so his mama says.

But if you ask my mama she'd tell you I was a good girl-so why do I get Spice??

To humble me.

So I won't roll my eyes in the grocery store the next time a child screams because his mama took the grocery list from him.

So I won't think "well, if she spanked that kid, she wouldn't act that way!"

Spice is unlike any of my other kids. You know...all two that I have. She's really quite beastly. I feel bad saying it but it's true. She's a monster. It's one of her many nicknames. You call out, "Monster!" and if she was the obedient type, she'd come running. However, she's hardly obedient, so she just looks at you and smirks.

And sometimes she glares.

Seriously, not even 18 months old and the child glares.

Yesterday I'd just had it. I was worn out. Her endless crying is driving me crazy...crazier. I told my husband that I'm considering getting a babysitter for her. Yes, I'm a SAHM but I'm considering paying someone to take care of her. No, it won't happen, but just letting myself think about that is a little piece of heaven.

So, Josh went through a list with me of all our parenting tricks. Okay, they aren't tricks, but he was just asking me questions about what I do when she screams, hits, disobeys, etc. I answered correctly to all of his questions and he says the most insightful thing: "Well, I don't know what ta tell ya."

Brilliant.

Last night I laid in bed and took this issue to the Lord. I told Him I just can't do this. I can't parent this baby. I don't know how. I'm failing her. I told Him. And I waited for this neon flashing light that was supposed to give me direction for how to take care of things from here on out but I got nuttin.

Sometimes He just doesn't answer right away.

I realized I have a whole lotta friends that are more experienced in the ways of the kiddos and I've decided to come to you for help.

Help.

Please.

For once, I'm not looking for sarcasm. I'm looking for wise council. I've never in my life felt so defeated as I do right now.

If you're unsure of what to say, can you just pray, please?

Spice is the cutest lil bug. I love her so so so much. But she cries a lot. A lot. If you pick her up, she shuts up. But I can't hold her all day. If she's gotten in trouble and I flick her hand or swat her leg, she hits me back.

Help.

Please.

It'll be cute tomorrow and maybe a few years from now but tonight it just makes me tired.

We had a really good day. Until Spice decided to ruin it. I don't know what got her diaper all in a bunch but man we had a rough afternoon.

I needed a few minutes to veg. A few minutes to just zone out. Because I'm a good mom like that. So, I checked my email. And then I checked Facebook and I realized the girls were giggling with the occasional scream from Spice.

When I checked on them, I found them in the hallway with Crayola markers strewn everywhere. Mostly on their faces.

It's funny, right? I know. But we were supposed to take family pictures this weekend. And even though I scrubbed them, it's not completely gone.

Aren't they the funniest? I love them. Even when they make me tired.

A New Schedule...a very Flexible Schedule.

Before I write out my post, I want to thank everyone who left comments or emailed me in regards to my last post. Thank you for loving me and praying for me.

In an effort to get some priorities in order and enjoy my life more, I've been working on a schedule for myself and our household.

It's almost funny to say that because we're such a fly by the seat of our pants kinda family. But contrary to popular belief, this family of four does like some sort of structure.

I wrote out two lists (yes, a list) one with things that need to be done everyday. Like making beds and brushing teeth and putting on a bra.

The second list is all the chores that need to be done weekly divided up from Monday-Saturday. One of my new goals is to have Sunday truly be a day of rest.

Here's an idea of what my list looks like (this is still a rough draft):

Monday: Vacuum and Dust, 2 loads of laundry
Tuesday: Clean the bathroom, sweep the entryways (front door and sliding glass door) and sweep the kitchen.
Wednesday: Run errands, clean up around the outside of house (read: clean up after the dogs)
Thursday: Vacuum and Dust (yes, again. I do this way more than I should so I'm cutting it back to twice a week) load of laundry, mop kitchen and bathroom
Friday: Clean out the fridge, menu plan, grocery shop and sweep the entryway again
Saturday: Change the sheets on beds and do any maintenance stuff needing done.

It's pretty basic. But I think that's good for me.

One of the nice things about being a SAHM is that my days are flexible. If I'm needed somewhere besides home on a certain day, my chores for that day can wait a week and it won't be the end of the world. (Must remember this when I freak out!)

Already my day has run much smoother than any day I've had in a long time.

I think I could get used to this.

Time to Relax and Enjoy

During the hard conversation I had with my mom, she brought up something that I'd love very much to deny. To say she's wrong. That she doesn't know what she's talking about. And pffft.

However, after mulling over her words these last few hours and talking them over with Josh, I know there's quite a bit of truth in her words.

She says I need to relax.

If you were to stop by my house right now you'd think all I do is relax. There are dirty dishes in the sink, a pile of papers on the counter, crumbs on the kitchen floor, toys in the living room and a garbage can in the bathroom that was dumped over by the dog that I've yet to clean up.

It looks like I relax a lot.

But did you notice how I could tell you everything that is out of place? I can tell you absolutely everything that's messy in my house right now. And I could tell you everything I haven't done that I should have done today. I can tell you all the bad stuff. Because I dwell on my bad stuff.

All of it.

All the time.

I make plans and I make lists. And if I can't follow through with each and every plan and item on my list, well then heck, forget it all. Then I get down on myself. I'll sit and stew about it and it affects my relationships with my husband and children.

My mom said that I don't just enjoy them.

And I believe in a way that she's right. I am always feeling that I am failing them in one way or another. Since I'm just laying all of this out here, I may as well tell you there are many many nights I will lay in bed and sob. Sob. For every wrong thing I did toward my family during the day. For every moment I was impatient. For not taking the time. I will lay there in bed, choking back these sobs and asking God why He'd let me be part of this amazing family that I have when I am such a mess of a girl.

If my house is not perfectly clean-it is completely messy. There seems to be no middle ground. When I finally decide to clean it, my children are starved for attention because I've become so focused on getting the house spic and span that oops! Forgot you need food and clothes and some lovin'.

I'm so scared to be the girl that I was so many years ago. The girl who didn't cook or clean ever or take care of her sweet husband. And in my fear of being her again, I'm crippled. I focus on the negative. And I can't see past it. I just sit there. Bound by my fear.

I can't see my computer screen. It's a good thing my fingers know how to type without me seeing. The tears are blinding me.

I know deep within my heart that this is something I need to go to the Lord about. But that requires asking for help. I don't ask for help. I have a line that I say often, a line my husband laughs at every time I say it. And sadly a line that my daughter uses as well.

I can do it myself.

But I can't do this myself. I can't learn to live without fear by myself. I can't learn to let the small things go and just relax by myself. I can't learn to let the big things go by myself.

I need to lay this at His feet. This feeling of needing to do it all. This feeling that if I don't do it all, that I'm a failure.

I need to give this up. Not entirely sure all that 'this' is. But all of it needs to go. Because it's killing my insides. And threatening closer...deeper relationships with the ones I love most. It's crippling me and making me no good to anyone around me.

I need to learn I don't have to do it all for it to be good enough.

But I think most importantly I need to learn that I don't have to do it all for me to be good enough.

It's time. It's time I take this heavy burden that I've brought upon myself and give it to Jesus.

Doing Hard Stuff

I feel like I can breathe.

I feel a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

And my heart.

Doing hard stuff is, well, hard. The reward of doing hard stuff, however, is amazing.

And freeing.

I very recently read a post on atrophy in relationships. It hit me straight in the heart.

After reading that post I realized I had four...four relationships that I believe are in atrophy.

After today, I feel I'm down to three.

Today I had a very long, difficult and emotional talk with my mom.

My mom.

She's not someone I've mentioned too often lately on my blog. Because it's hard to blog about someone you don't talk to or see very often. This isn't something that's easy on my heart. My mom is someone I love. Love deeply. But when you love deeply, you hurt deeply.

And we've hurt each other.

We talked today for over an hour. Face to face. Hard stuff. Especially for people who don't like confrontation.

I'm not going to sugar coat it and say everything is perfect, because it isn't. But it's going to get better. We decided to try harder, to put out more effort.

It's not easy. It's so hard. But I'm looking forward to the benefits that come from putting forth effort.

Now, it's working on the other three relationships...

Just the Normal Random Post Since I can't Think of Anything Else to Write About

Hmm.

Think I'm bloggy funked.

Shall we do another random post, since I seem to be sooo good at those?

Okay, good. I was hoping you'd agree.

I love that I'm doing my "diet" again. I love the freedom to have Starbucks and McDonald's and not feel like I have to deprive myself of them and still manage to lose 3 lbs in this last week.

I've had Spice all to myself the last coupla days and I'll tell you what...I think I know why she normally cries all the darned day. She just wants to be an only child! She's a peach when her sister's not around to quarrel with.

Speaking of an only child, I loved that about going to my dad's when I was little. I was an only child (as far as we knew) and it was wonderful. He loved me, I loved him (we didn't say this of course) and I didn't have to share him or the presents he bought me. ☺

My mom is picking up Sugar tomorrow morning to keep her overnight. Considering making a rule that if you take one child then you must take two. But I'm not going to press my luck. At least not this time.

My husband and I have been looking at a map lately and we're seriously looking into a birthday trip for me (well, and him and our girls, too) across the US to meet some of my wonderful bloggy friends and IRL friends. (Yes, I do have a couple of those.) You may get an email in the next few months from me, inviting myself over.

Next Friday we're headed outta town to visit friends. I'm so excited that I have butterflies.

My daughter decided to get into the Q-tips the other day when her mama (oh, that'd be me) decided to play just a few minutes of Bejeweled on FB. It was cute and hilarious and of course I took her picture. And then I made her pick them all up and put them in the garbage.

Thirteen years ago this month is when I noticed my husband for the first time. It'd be another month before we were introduced but this is when I noticed him. I truly believe love is blind because that flat top and t-shirt tucked into the Lee jeans woulda made me run any other time than then.

A coupla months ago my neighbor girl brought over a puppy and announced they had a new dog. It was (notice the past tense) a Dachsund. I asked her, "what kinda dog is he?" She informs me he's a Rottweiler. A month goes by and he's not grown a lick. I ask her again, "um, what kinda dog is he?" She then informs he's a miniature Rottweiler. Ahhh. He annoyed (past tense again) the heck outta me and they'd often bring things to our house that Tanner had taken. Today I come home and see him lying on the side of the road. He might have bugged me but my heart hurts for them today.

My husband will be home in about 30 minutes. He's been in Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Utah in the last two days. Looking forward to seeing him and my four year old daughter.

Speaking of my four year old daughter. Josh calls me yesterday and tells me that Sugar had a bit of a meltdown yesterday morning because she couldn't find her shoe. They looked all over the Peterbilt. Sooo many places for a shoe to be in there, you know. After about 20 minutes of looking, he finally tells her to put her tennies on so they can run in the truck stop. They return to the truck and she's playing in the back for a bit when she yells, "Daddy, I found my shoe!" He asks her where it was.

"In the fridge."

Why he didn't look there in the first place, I'll never know.

My Happy Heart

Did you know a happy heart is contagious? It really is.

Yesterday I read Natalie's post and realized I should really try to be more thankful instead of letting myself be all funky.

This morning I had a friend {unexpectedly} walk in my door, plop down at my kitchen table and tell me that her car had just been stolen.

After she left I checked my email and received an email stating many of the things I have to be thankful for.

And I do. I do have so much to be thankful for. So, as they come to me, I'm going to write them out. In completely random order because that my friends, is how I roll.

I'm thankful for:

A SIL who is bold enough to email me with everything I have to be thankful for. To remind me that I've got it freakin' good.

My children. Both of them even. =) They are happy and they are healthy. They make me crazy but oh, how I love them.

This roof over my head. This house I've been blessed with for nearly ten years. Would I choose this town to live in? No. But I love this house.

My neighbors. I trust them.

My dishwasher, and washer and dryer. Yesterday morning I loaded all of them and put them to work. Three major tasks I didn't have to do, my servants did it for me.

My van. It's reliable. It's spacious. It has heated leather seats. And most importantly-cup holders.

Losing 1.4 lbs in 4 days while drinking Pepsi and eating muffin batter. {okay, so that's not all I ate.}

My amazing husband. He was up at 3 am for work this morning. He called to tell me if he gets home early enough tonight he'll watch the girls so I can grocery shop and do whatever I want this evening. He loves me. He truly does. Oh, that I may be worthy to be his wife...

Friends. I don't have many, I really don't, but I treasure those I have. Even if you're only in this black box, I'm thankful for you. For your emails of encouragement and the occasional phone calls. Thank you.

My church. We aren't as involved as I'd like to be but I love the people there and I love the teaching there.

Coffee. I've been drinking home brew a whole lot lately and I've come to enjoy just sitting at the table with my girlies and drinking a warm cup of coffee.

Fall colors. Though I hate to be cold, isn't this the most beautiful time of year?!

Dogs that are patient with my girls.

My mother and father-in-law. There just aren't words. They've done so much for me, for our family. Thankful they only live about 3 miles from me.

There's more, I'm sure. But I just wanted to list off some of them. Partly to remind myself and partly so you don't always think I'm a big downer. =)

What are you thankful for?

Every Minute Counts, Even if it's Just Two

I believe life begins at conception.

I believe a baby is a real person at conception.

I know that sometimes things happen and a baby doesn't always make it to birth. This breaks my heart and even though it's hard, I have to trust that the Lord has a plan.

I know that sometimes things happen and a baby is born and lives only a short amount of time. But he still lived.

Wyatt, a baby who wasn't supposed to make it to birth-did. Wyatt lived for two short minutes, but the point is-he lived.

Wyatt's mama, Danielle, is seeking to get a birth certificate for her son. The state of Tennessee is not recognizing the fact that Wyatt lived and they are denying her this certificate.

Please take a moment and read the petition. If you live in TN and/or have family or friends in TN, please pass this information along. And if you feel that two minutes counts for living, please sign the petition.

Maybe it's just me

Anyone else feeling panicky about the health care situation?

Are you a soon to be homeschool mom who's FREAKING out about that little fact?

Have you been without chocolate for too many days in a row?

Missing someone?

Worried that with winter coming the blues are going to get even worse, even though you aren't sure they could get worse?

Do you sometimes consider deleting all the blogs you read because you're sick of feeling like the worst wife/mom on the entire planet? Seriously, I'm lucky to get out of bed most days. But to clean, cook, wipe noses/butts, laundry, smile, etc. just seems too much sometimes.

Think you're all alone?

Dreaming of some time alone with your husband but don't have anyone who can watch your children? Even though people offer, you know it just wouldn't be right to dump your kids off.

Wishing for restored relationships with family and friends?

Are you dieting and sure that you're going to fail again? Because you have 5 million times before?

Scared to live in America, the Land of the Used to be Free, Home of the Brave?

Trying to spend money more wisely and failing?

Wondering when you stopped seeing eye to eye with your spouse when it comes to training and disciplining your children?

Wishing Jesus would just come back already so we don't have to deal with everything listed above?

Going Top-less

Muffin Top-less! This is the first post in my newly (but not so new) created weight loss blog:

I created a blog several months back. Maybe even a year ago.

I was on a journey to lose 19 lbs.

Oh, if it were only 19 lbs. Since then, I've gained another 10. I now have 29 lbs to lose to be at my normal body weight.

I've been thinking of every excuse in the book for why I've gained another 10 lbs to my already overweight status. I'd like to blame the 17 month old baby who cries all the time. Or the 4 year old who's learning she has a mind of her own. Or that my husband has a job that can keep him away up to five days a week. Or the poor relationships I have with my family and friends.

Do you see a pattern there? I do. It's blaming others.

That's awful.

If the weight itself weren't bad enough, blaming others for me being fat is just downright disgusting.

What made me decide to do this again? To blog about being fat and trying once again to lose weight?

This weekend my husband decided I needed a new pair of jeans. I own two pair. The first pair I can't button all the way, so I use that famous pregnancy trick of using a rubberband, but I'm not pregnant so I shouldn't be using that trick. The other pair of jeans have holes in both knees and every time I put them on, I end up putting my foot through the knee hole first by accident and making the holes even larger.

Back to buying the jeans...

We head out on Saturday to get the jeans and I'm having a horrible time finding a pair that I like. I don't believe skinny jeans in size 521 should be legal. I also was not a fan of jeans with slashes through them and hot pink material shining through the back. There were also jeans with holes and if I'm going to have jeans with holes in them, they're going to be earned not bought! And did you know that they don't sell jeans already equipped with rubberbands? Such a bummer.

I finally find a pair that will probably (sadly) fit. No holes, no slashes, no tapered leg. I head to the dreaded dressing room. The room with two full-length mirrors. Side note: If I could shower with my clothes on, I would. I hate seeing myself without clothes. Side note over. I shove off my still tied tennies and unbutton and slip off my holey jeans. And then I made a horrible mistake.

I looked in the mirror.

I saw my legs. The front of them and the back of them. I saw the cellulite. I saw that you can't tell where my calves end and my ankles begin.

Then I made an even more horrible mistake.

I lifted up the back of my shirt. There was no need for me to do this. I was only buying a pair of jeans. But I just had to look. It's like when you're passing a car accident and you don't wanna see if someone is gushing blood but you just can't turn away. It was then that I saw...

I saw my back fat. I saw the fat that spills over my bra. I saw my pretty tattoo that is now stretched out.

I saw what my husband sees every time I take my clothes off.

And I was thoroughly disgusted with myself. I hate looking like this. And I hate that I've let it go on another four years. It's gotta stop.

It's gotta stop now.

Today is the first day to a new me.

If you wanna follow my journey, feel free. Just keep the fat jokes to a minimum. ;)

Take it or Toss it but I think it's worth Taking

A couple of years ago when Sugar was about two I was out with her and some family. I don't remember exactly what she did but whatever it was, I got after her about it. And then I was scolded.

If you ever wanna get someone's back up, just tell 'em they're not parenting right.

Even though I had a few choice words on the tip of my tongue for the woman scolding me, I simply said, "You raised your kids and now I'm raising mine."

To which she replied, "well, I did a better job."

Uh huh, she said that.

I dropped it.

Did I forget it? Obviously not. But I also considered the source and decided to leave the conversation there.

I think if I could tell any new parent or parent-to-be a couple of the most important things about being parents it would be this, you're going to get a lot of advice.

Take some and toss the rest.

Look at the children (whether they are still children or are now adults) of those who are giving you the advice, are the children happy? obedient? respectful/honoring to their parents? If so, take their parenting advice to heart. If they have wild, outta control kiddos that you're thankful aren't yours, then maybe the advice they're giving you on how best to raise your baby should just be taken with a grain of salt.

The other non-asked-for parenting tip I'd like to give is this:

The most important word* to teach your child to obey would be, "stop."

Why?

Last week we were walking across a dimly lit parking lot with very few cars. Attached to this parking lot was a mall parking lot with a lot of cars. Some parked. Some cruising along. Josh was on his cell phone, I was carrying Spice and Sugar wanted to run.

"Can I run to the truck, Mama?!"

The truck was in the mall parking lot.

"No, but you can run to that red car right there. When you get to it, stop." The red car was at the edge of the parking lot we were in. What I didn't realize was that at the edge of the parking lot ending was a strip where cars were whizzing past.

She goes running. Those long legs flying (kinda Phoebe style) and her long, dark hair flowing behind her.

Out of the corner of my eye I see a car coming from our right, cruising fairly fast but they are in the mall parking lot. In those few seconds I have enough time to panic but not enough time to do anything if she decides to disobey and continue on for the truck.

Sugar gets to the red car.

Stops. Turns back to look at me and waits.

And zooom, that car in the mall parking lot goes by.

Had she not obeyed in that moment and continued on toward our truck, she would have been hit by that car. I shiver just thinking about it.

If I could do it again, knowing there was an area so close to the car I told her to stop at, where cars were cruising along-I would have just had her walk with me.

Over these four years of training her we've had to discipline for disobedience. Just teaching a child to stop when you say can be a life or death situation and I totally learned that last week.

Stop, or any other command for that matter, needs to be obeyed the first time whether it's "stop touching the lamp" or "stop pulling up my shirt in public" or "keep your hands to yourself" or "stop at the red car." If a child doesn't take you seriously with the little stuff like a lamp or indecent exposure, what's going to make them obey when it's a life or death situation?

Sugar isn't perfect. I'll be the first one to say it. But in that moment she was obedient and for that I'm thankful.

*Maybe "stop" isn't the most important word but in that moment last week, to me, it was.

He Heard Me

On my way to an appointment last week (yes, the appt.) I noticed my shoulder was hurting me. My right one if you really wanna know. It wasn't that big of a deal right then just a bit annoying.

Then the next day I noticed that the pain was centered around my shoulder blade and made it difficult to move my arm. I was getting a bit more annoyed.

By the end of the week I couldn't take my clothes off without help. And medication wasn't touching the pain.

I wasn't sleeping because there wasn't a comfortable positition that I could find.

I was down right miserable.

I kept telling Josh, "if it's not better by Friday...or by Sunday..." Monday came and I could hardly clean my kitchen. You don't realize how much you use both arms to do everything until you're down an arm.

(did that sound funny to anyone else?)

(okay, good. you too, huh?)

Moving on.

I'm not one to run to the doctor over silly stuff, and while the pain I was in did not even one little bit feel silly to me, I just didn't know why I was in pain and that seemed silly to me. Maddening really. But I just did not want to call a doctor. What would they be able to do for me besides hand me a big fatty bill? If they'd accept second born children as payment I woulda gone in about 16 months ago.

Hello, I'm totally getting off subject.

So, back to Monday while I was doing dishes. I got pissed. It was day seven of incredible pain and I was done. Sick of it.

I yelled. I cried.

"Lord, heal me now!"

Wouldn't ya know? I woke up Tuesday morning healed.

Completely healed.

I think He was just waiting for me to rely on Him, to call out to Him.

I'm slow. It took me seven days to cry out. When I finally did, He heard me and He answered me.

The Night My Husband Learned Not to Interrupt

Tonight I'm sitting here at the computer and my husband is installing a light fixture that's been missing since...ohhh, about 9 years ago.

We are on top of things around here!

Anywho.

So, he's just a few feet away from me and I start to say something. I don't get out more than two words and he says,

"No. Probably not."

We both start to laugh.

And then he says, "okay, what were you going to ask?"

I tell him...

"I was going to ask if you'd like me to take my clothes off right now."

We both got another really good laugh and then he asked what I was really going to ask him. I actually wasn't going to ask him anything, I was going to tell him something.

I entered us into a contest for a trip for two. I find out Friday that I win. Yes, I'm thinking happy thoughts.

And begging the Lord pretty please.

Through the Years

Inspired by this post by MckMama.



In June of 1980, three weeks after the eruption of Mt. St. Helens, a little girl is born to a single mama. I am that little girl and my mama was just 19.

In 1981 I would meet my dad for the first time but I would never in my 18 years of knowing him, call him "Dad".

Late Summer of 1983 my mom married my step-dad and he's the man that for the next 12 years (tho' the marriage didn't last that long) I will call "Dad".

In May of 1984, I become a big sister when Erica is born. It will be approximately 22 years before we are friends. Six weeks after she's born, we move from WA to Alta Loma, California. I meet my step-dad's mom and step-dad. My grandmother introduces me to Ritz crackers and peanut butter while watching cartoons in bed. My grandfather introduces me to Chocolate and Peanut Butter ice cream from Baskin Robbins. I believe this is the year that I fell in love with all things chocolate and peanut-buttery. Praise the Lord for 1984.

In 1985 we move to Phoenix, AZ and I start Kindergarten. I remember during a nap that I had a dream my stepdad came home with bandages on his face. When I woke up...he came home and indeed did have bandages on his face. He'd burned himself when a radiator cap busted. 24 years later, it still freaks me out I had a dream about it and it happened. I finish Kindergarten in G*view, WA and meet Peter Herrera. He's the first boy I have a crush on and this crush will last through my freshman year of high school. I fall asleep on the bus almost daily and my mom always has to pick me up from the bus garage.

In 1986 my youngest sister, Megan, is born. We move to Fontana, CA and I start year round 1st grade. For Christmas my biological dad gives me a boy Cabbage Patch doll because I told him I wanted a brother.

In 1987 my sisters and I would live with my grandma and my two young aunts for a couple of months while my mom and stepdad look for work and a home in Seattle, WA. At 7 years old, I watch and fall in love with Dirty Dancing. Though I wasn't old enough to watch it on the big screen then, 20 years later I would be. We move to Seattle, my teacher eats cow tongue and it takes 45 minutes to get to school by bus. My mom has left my step-dad, I finish 2nd grade in G*view, WA. My new crush is Matt Sorensen. This crush will last until I meet my husband. I get chicken pox and have to miss my Valentine's Party.

In 1988, I get a Nintendo for my birthday. My sister is bit by a dog. And I start third grade at the same school I attended for second grade! It's the first time I have a best friend. Her name is Rachel Clark.

In 1989 we move to Selah. In 4th grade I have to do a report on Hamsters and present it to the class. My first time public speaking made me sick. It wouldn't be the last time I get sick before public speaking. This is the year my dad starts sending me flowers for Valentine's Day. And also the year he will join in the force that cleaned up the Exxon Valdez oil spill in Alaska. And for my 9th birthday he sends me Moose Slippers.

While shopping with my mother in Shop-Ko, we separate so I can buy her a gift. I have to go potty and can't find a restroom. I wet my pants. Since it's winter of 1990, my jeans steam off the car's seat when we get home. This will be laughed about til 2009. For a few months of fifth grade we move back to G*view but then return to Selah. My fifth grade teacher is my first male teacher. In a drawing at the end of the school year I win the prize of taking home the class gerbils. This thrills my mother to no end...

I stay in Selah until a month into my 7th grade year when, in 1992, I make the decision to move back to G*view and live with my grandma for a couple of months. I end up finishing out 7th grade in Selah, I win a prize for the best colored picture. I win a Pepsi and a Snickers bar. Still one of the best contests I've ever won.

From 92-94 we move four times. We move out of our apt. into and then out of the fifth wheel, into the Icky House and then back to G*view for my high school career. It's 1994 and it's the year that will change my life.

Summer of 1994 we start going to church, I give my heart to Jesus on a school bus. I have a crush on a boy named PeeWee. And I make friends with three girls who will be my best friends even 15 years later.

In 1995 my best friend, Lindsey and I attend a soccer game. Before the game starts a boy named Trevor asks me out. I have my first real boyfriend. I join Cross Country. Our church gets a new Youth Pastor. Trevor and I break up. I start dating a boy named Eric who is well over 6' tall and I decide then that the man I marry must be tall. But it won't be Eric. We break up.

One Sunday night in October of 1996 while attending evening service at our church I meet the cutest boy I've ever seen in my life. He's wearing a Cross Country shirt that's tucked into his Lee jeans, running shoes and he's sporting a flat top. I don't know his name but I tell Lindsey, "he looks like a Josh and I'm going to marry him." I'm 16 years old. We're introduced in November and start dating shortly after our introduction. I fall head over heels. He's 5'8" and doesn't really like me. We date though for a few months then he breaks up with me. I'm completely devastated and have decided life is not worth living.

Josh comes around to my way of thinking in May and we get back together. Half way through my Senior year of High School, we're engaged in December of 1997.

One month after my 18th birthday we get married. Josh buys me my first car, an '82 Honda Civic hatchback and a grey cat we name Roger. To thank him, I'm the worst wife ever. I don't cook or clean. I don't do laundry and we spend a lot of time and money eating out and going to the movies. I beg him for a baby, he says no but I gain 30 lbs anyway. 1998 was a tough year.

To celebrate our first anniversary we head to DisneyLand and Sea World and while we're there my mom calls with the news my dad has drown. We fly back immediately. 1999 is even tougher. We buy a house, I'm 19 and Josh is 21. For Valentine's Day Josh buys me a Beagle. And I'm sure it's to pacify my desire for a baby.

Over the course of the next several years, I'm still overweight, a bad wife and bad keeper of my home. We start a lawn mowing business and I decide to lose weight using the Weigh Down Diet. This is successful and I lose 35 lbs.

In June of 2003 Josh quits his job and starts driving a Peterbilt around the Northwest. He's gone 5 days a week. I get my first real job as a barista in an espresso stand in town and make friends with a girl named Keri. She's single with no kids and I think her life is perfect. I've lost all focus on Jesus and my marriage. My life is falling apart around me.

In 2004 I apply at Pier 1 imports even though they "aren't hiring" and am given a job within the week based on my nice handwriting. I fall in love with sales and am actually good at this. I'm promoted to Assistant Manager within a few months. I can now support myself. My husband and I separate and file for divorce. I live on my own for the first time in my life and I've never been more miserable. Josh and I still talk on the phone occasionally. One night we make the decision to make our marriage work. I move in with Lindsey and her husband for a few weeks. Then in with my mother for a couple of weeks. And then back home. I recommit my life to Jesus and my heart to my husband. I quit working at Pier 1.

In 2005 Josh quits driving truck. I learn what it means to be a keeper of the home. My house is clean most days. I cook more than we eat out and the highlight of my life is the day I give birth to the most amazing little girl. We start attending a new church.

Life is going great. My marriage and my little girl are wonderful. I start blogging. I don't have many friends who live near me. That changes in October of 2006 when I get a MySpace account and reconnect with my friend Amber from high school. We become inseparable.

Last day of February 2007, Josh and I go out to dinner. We come home and I have the worst stomach pain I've ever had. At 1 in the morning we decide to go to the ER. It's confirmed I have appendicitis. I have an appendectomy and go home the next day. A week later I go in for a follow up and am told that when my appendix was removed so was a malignant tumor. 4 days later I have another surgery removing half my colon and 41 lymphnodes and leaving me with a 6" scar down my belly. The rest of 2007 is great. Amber and I fulfill our lifelong dream of seeing Dirty Dancing on the big screen. We drive 400 miles round trip to watch Johnny get Baby out of the corner. Josh and I hem and haw and decide in July we'll try for another baby. I get pregnant in August.

In April of 2008 our Beagle dies. Our "first born" and we realize how much we loved her in spite of her driving us insane. Exactly one month later in May of 2008 I give birth to another baby girl. And she cries for the next 17 months (and counting) of her life. We'll never hem and haw about having another baby. November of 2008 Amber and I fulfill another dream and see New Kids on the Block in concert 3 hours away from home (and my baby), I use a breast pump that is hooked to jumper cables outside of my van. It's quite memorable and totally worth the embarrassment and any picture she may have taken...

In April of 2009 my husband quits his very steady 7-5 Mon-Fri job and we load up as a family and drive around in a Peterbilt 5 days a week. People think we're nuts but support us anyway. I find creative uses for plastic bags, blog about it and still have friends.

It's fall of 2009, a new year right around the corner. And the beginning of a new chapter.

Birthday Giveaway Winner Is.....

The winner of a one year subscription to Martha Stewart magazine is.... wait for it....

wait.for.it.....

......

Amy!!! I think this is the first time Amy has ever left a comment, and this weekend was the first time I've visited her blog. She's a newlywed and I'm totally loving the photos they've posted of their honeymoon. Very cool!

Congratulations, Amy! Email me by tomorrow (Tuesday) night at truckfamily@gmail.com with your address and I'll get this (possibly already read) magazine in the mail to you. Plus the little postcard says to allow 6-8 weeks for delivery of your first issue...AND it says you'll get a free tote bag. How fun is that?

Thanks to everyone who entered!