“Mmm — smells like tomato soup!”

We are attempting a garden this year — yay!!! That’s what I asked for this time for Mother’s Day (instead of a dishwasher), and it’ll be great to have the kids help and work together and reap the benefits of freshly homegrown food again.

Until then, we’ve got some herbs started in the kitchen, but the basil isn’t growing, so we bought one at Whole Foods the other day. I asked Levi to pick out which plant he wanted, and we all took turns smelling them — Ohhhh heavenly!

He finally decided on one and exclaimed, “MMMMMMM smells like tomato soup!” Guess that was the one for us!

And of course, for dinner that night, we had to make fresh tomato soup out of tomatoes, Levi’s freshly-cut basil, milk, garlic, salt and pepper, and a teeny bit of pure maple syrup.

There wasn’t a drop left.



Like a Zombie

Man…first I thought, “It’s a Monday. Mondays are always hard.”

Then I realized it was Wednesday.

And when Thursday came, I mistakingly thought, “Fridays are just rough because everyone just wants to be done.”

And when today finally DID come — wow. What a Friday it was. We’ll just say it was a fitting end to this challenging week.

I don’t even really know for sure why it was so hard…

I mean, yeah, a sad, sick, crabby, teething baby Bria isn’t too fun…

And a red-nosed, hacking-up-a-lung, won’t-sleep Zachary is pretty sad…

And an ornery, stubborn, sassy Levi is always a struggle to be patient with…

And an Owen who picks on Levi who picks on Zachary who picks on Bria is dang annoying…

And a forgetful, entitled, squirt-of-a-teenager in Benjamin is hard to get used to…

And Mike’s job is stressful and super busy and he’s about to become Rotary president and he helps do the Boy Scouts and he has city council meetings he goes to and I want to support him but it stinks not having him home much…

And we’re battling a flea problem with our cats…

And our dogs found a way out of the fence and took off…

And we’re working like mad (but not getting very far) in trying to catch up and get schoolwork done and assignments turned in and papers sent in before the end of the school year in a month and I ask myself on a regular basis if I can really continue homeschooling…

And the everyday noise, chaos, wrestling, dirt, mess, laundry, noise, and more noise that comes with the territory of boys is absolutely exhausting…

And the baby’s crawling and climbing and reaching and just getting into everything faster than I can keep track of her and clean up her destruction…

And I’m Just. So. Tired.

And…I yelled.

And…I screamed.

And…I cried.

And…I threw stuff.

And…I kicked a door…and broke it.

Yeah…it’s been a rough week. And I don’t think anyone likes me very much right now. I’ve been a witch. Sometimes they might’ve kind of deserved it…but really, I know better.

So I apologize. And then apologize again. And shower them with love. And some more love. And more apologies, of course.

And I am absolutely IN AWE at how quick these people I’ve been given to teach and train and raise and love and nurture — can forgive.

I mean, really?? I still remember being mad at my mom for cutting my bangs too short, and making her cry because I was so mean about it and said I was gonna keep that paper bag on my head forever so I could hide my hideousness from everyone. I mean I guess I eventually forgave her, and she might not even remember it now, but will my kids remember seeing me lose it and throw a fit like a 2 year-old and kick a hole in a door?

They probably will.

But they’ve already forgiven me for it.

Sometimes I want to feel so justified in being mad about stuff. But it’s really just a bunch of hogwash. Who cares, in the long run? There are so many things I turn into a big deal that really don’t matter that much. The PEOPLE matter.

“Don’t let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved.” — Thomas S. Monson

Okay I SO need to put that on my wall.

And on my ceiling.

And in my fridge.

And in my car.

And in my purse.

And on my mirror.

And plaster it onto my heart so that I’ll never ever forget that these PEOPLE are more important than just about anything else on the planet.

So I feel like a zombie. Big deal. I knew this motherhood thing wasn’t going to be all peaches and cream.

So I just BARELY got a shower for the first time in days. Woe is me. Did I even stop to feel grateful for that amazing shower I’ve been coveting for days? No. Not till just now.

I’m a MOM. I’m a WIFE. I am crazily blessed with SO much. Hard days come and go. I know that. But I need to let it go and move forward. Enough is enough. Get over yourself, Kaatia. You can cry about it, it’s even okay to scream about it once in a while, but deal with it and then move on and for heaven’s sake, don’t wallow.

Zombie or no, here I come.


10 Months = First Tooth!

She turned 10 months old today (well, technically yesterday), and her first tooth FINALLY broke through!! It’s on the bottom, front, right. It’s SO stinkin’ cute to reach in there and feel those little jaggety spikes popping through her gums!

And she handled it like a pro: only 9 nights out of 10 she’s been waking up screaming…having bouts of extreme drama-queen fussiness during the day…shoving everything she can get her hands on into her mouth at a non-stop pace…even biting me a little (OW)…rosy cheeks/fevers/ears hurting/runny nose…screaming at such an ear-piercing, high-pitched rate that I’m surprised she doesn’t break the dogs’ ear drums…

Ah…the life of a mom of a teething baby…

But we’ve got one in! Whoo-hoo!

How many more to go… ?



Jumping Alone

I went outside tonight with the intent to exercise while moving around the sprinkler in the attempt to keep the grass that’s currently growing.

I ended up jumping on the newly-finished trampoline — super fun!! — for quite a while…so nice to have it to myself for once! (And I only wet my pants a little.) ;D

Then I dug and moved dirt and shoveled and lifted and rearranged and kept moving the sprinkler for like another hour and a half.

It was fun. Not much point to this post other than that, and I shall do it again. Night. 🙂

He Even Cleans Up Cat Puke

Lastnight we came home to lots and lots of evidence of a sick cat on the carpet.

It was one of those times that I was really glad my usual role at that time of evening is to hurry and throw something together for dinner. That meant that Mike was left to help Levi clean up his cat’s mess. Oh, darn. ;D

Quite a while later, after lots of complaining from Pumpkin’s owner, Levi and Mike finally succeeded in cleaning everything up. They had used paper towels, wipes, the vacuum, and finally the carpet cleaner.

That part of the carpet hadn’t looked that good in a long time!

I am so grateful for a husband who will come home after a long, tiring, hard day at work, and not complain himself about doing something like that.

A husband who, after having dinner with us, doing family night and reading scriptures with us, and helping with some outside work, will take it upon himself to help get little kids to bed while I feed the baby. To read books to them, help them brush teeth and get jammies on, sings songs to them while he tucks them in, and help them say their prayers.

A husband who will stay up late with Benjamin, helping him with his math problems so that he can understand them better — since I am having a hard time teaching algebra. And even though he was tired and had to get up early this morning, he still went and got the baby and changed her from head to toe before he brought her in to me for her usual early-morning feeding.

And then he left, to go out into the world, to work hard to support this family, even though it has been difficult lately.

I am so very, very blessed to have an amazing husband, father of our cuties, best friend, confidant, awesome supporter and encourager, and to be married to someone who just has so much patience with me — it is humbling and inspiring.

I want to be a better person for you, babe. I always have. And I will continue to try harder to be the wife that you deserve. I love you, and thank you.











I can’t believe the audacity!

The gall!

The shameless, blatant disregard for my wishes!

And my wishes?

To keep her young…little…as a baby…


But here she is, in all her glory, not even caring about the fact that she just started crawling about a week and a half ago and zooms from crumb to crumb all over the floor now…

No, not caring that her teeth will be coming in any day…

And not even caring that she’s imitating everything and getting into everything and eating more and more and nursing less and less and communicating better and better and looking older and older and her hair is getting longer and longer…

No, as if all THAT wasn’t enough —

She’s now started standing up. Pulling herself up on things.

And being WAY too big.

(And of course getting stuck in that position, not knowing what to do, and squawking till someone comes and saves her.)

Dangit. My baby’s growing up.


Bragging Rights

Okay his zombie obsession aside, I know I’ve gone on and on about being proud of my oldest a lot lately, but I really, truly am.

He is such a good, GOOD kid.

Today we were driving a long way and he was kinda bored. Forgetting for a second about the fact that it was Sunday and our family tries really hard to make the Sabbath a different day from the rest of the week, I suggested he read the book he’s been working on.

That book is Catching Fire, book #2 of The Hunger Games series.

Not exactly a ‘Sunday’ type of book.

On Sundays, we try to keep things G-rated, basically. Movies? G. Games? G. Music? G. And books even? G.

It’s a day of rest, and we try to take a rest from lots of things. Not just work, not just school, not from physical labors, but to rest our spirits, our minds, everything. We go to church. We talk or write letters to family. We do quiet activities together like play board games or work on a puzzle or take a family walk. We try to have less distractions and more focused, reflective time (if we can in the midst of our crazy kids’ craziness).

It’s good to take a break.

So anyway, Benjamin started to read his book, when Mike asked, “Wait — is that a good book to read today?” I was like Oh shoot…I suggested he read it…

So I said, “Well, if you’re going to tell him he can’t read it, tell him now, before he gets too much into it…”

Mike was quiet for a minute and then said, “He’s a teenager now. He should make his own decision.”

I looked at my Benj, and he didn’t really even hesitate.

But I did notice just the tiniest, slightest smile as he stopped reading right then and put away the book.

I said out loud, “REALLY??”

He was just like, “Yeah.”


I don’t even know if I could’ve done that.

“There is no one giant step that does it. It’s a lot of little steps. ” -Peter A. Cohen


“Girls are more fierce than boys, Mama.”

So says Levi, with a very serious look on his face.

Why, I ask?

Because, he says — if a boy asks a girl to marry him, and she doesn’t want to, all she does is whack him on the head with her purse. It hurts a lot, especially if her purse is big and heavy.

And that makes girls more fierce than boys?

Yep, he says, so if anyone ever thinks that girls are weaker than boys, they don’t have any idea what they’re talking about.


The reasoning of a 6 year-old. I love it.


We Can Fly!

Oh my goodness I am so proud of my boys!! After two months of driving 40+ miles several times a week for rehearsals — and dragging the three younger kids for a few hours each time, and then practicing lines at home, and watching everything we could on Peter Pan, and even reading the book — Benjamin and Owen got to perform it today and I got to see it!!

Levi and I were so excited to get to attend with a bunch of school children today, and we can’t wait to go back this weekend for the public show!! Yay!!

This has been a huge leap for them both; it’s Owen’s second musical and Benjamin’s third, but they both had small parts before. It’s so awesome that their amazing director, ‘Miss Vikky,’ had so much faith in them and trusted that they would rise to the occasion as Peter and John. They have both really blossomed and are having such great experiences.

Can’t wait till Saturday!! 😀


What The Heck Is Fly Honey??

… I asked my 3 year-old when he insisted that he didn’t want jam on his toast, or “regular” honey.

This conversation had already been going on for a few minutes, and I was getting a little frustrated.

Why can’t you just have honey?

No, I want FUH-WYYYY honey.

What is ‘fly honey?’

It’s honey with a fwyyyyy.

We don’t have honey with a fly, Zachary.

Yes, we dooooooo! I aw-weddy towd you dat, mama!

I don’t even remember how it happened exactly, but eventually I opened the right cupboard that had the “fly honey” in it, and holy WOW he just about screamed my ears off —

“Dat’s IT!!!!!!”