Towanda

I think I'm having a mid-mid life crisis, because I just chopped my hair off, and I bought some crazy pants that are a wild deviation from my normally unremarkable wardrobe, and I put myself on a diet.
I'm not sure where this is coming from. Maybe it's the first signs of spring emerging from a dismal winter that make me feel like a new woman. Maybe my life has held fast to routine for so long that my psyche demands change before I have a nervous breakdown. Or maybe all the requests for bedtime stories about Pegasus Unicorn Princesses is slowly driving me insane. I can't really say. But I can say that I feel like I can conquer the world, and I'm slightly concerned for anybody who decides to cut me off in traffic.
https://youtu.be/lx0z9FjxP-Y

Lost

I can’t find my dustpan. This is a problem because a dustpan does not travel very far. It emerges twice—who am I kidding, maybe once—each day from the side of the fridge and then it gets shoved right back in there 30 seconds later when its job is through. This leads me to believe that one of the littles stole it, and it is therefore lost forever, or at least won’t be found for months until I randomly find it stuffed in the barbecue outside or something. Hmm. Mental note to check barbecue later. I think somewhere out there is a vortex of knickknack hostages. Every kid knows to take their parents’ important stuff there to disappear—just like every kid knew to blow into their Nintendo game every time it froze back in the 90s. It’s right up there with the infant sucking reflex. Kids are just born knowing this stuff, people.

So far I’ve lost approximately nine spoons, a dozen shoes (they never lose both shoes; just one shoe from every pair they own so they’re all worthless), dental floss, a can opener, and about a hundred sippy cups. Sippy cups are the calling card of the Miskin family. If we’ve been to your house, chances are you have one of our sippy cups under your couch. We won’t talk about all the toys we’ve left places, because it’s one of my best de-cluttering methods. Who cares about a few lost barbies, but try making soup without a can opener. It’s about as easy as EATING the soup without spoons.

The bully

I have yet to figure out exactly what to say to another parent after my own child hurts their kid. After all, she's, three, and I'm pretty sure she'll grow out of it--or at least I think she will. Otherwise I'm raising the world's first female bouncer. Like, isn't "Hey, I'm sorry Alaina pushed Gavin off a bridge" or  "Myles may have a bruise because Alaina strangled him with the curtain sash today" a bit inadequate? (Yes, both of these things really happened.)
The girl can be ruthless. She will search out a weak spot and destroy--and she likes to practice on her brother. (At least this way I don't have to apologize to anyone, right?) Jesse  got stitches after he sliced his nose open when he fell and hit our tv stand. So naturally, now when Jesse annoys Alaina, she pokes him IN THE NOSE. What's a mom to do! I feel so conflicted, because if I'm too lenient she may start torturing animals and then become a serial killer. Too harsh and I may crush that bright and spunky spirit that I love so much. No pressure.

Ions

Caleb convinced me to watch Rise of the Planet of the Apes last week, and it was so awful. I want those 106 minutes of my life back. But that's what you do when you're married; you sit through bad movies because your sweetheart likes shallow plots, terrible dialogue, and physics-defying special effects. Why? Because the next week he will sit through five hours of "Wives and Daughters" with you, despite its poor cinematography, sappy romance, and overly-dramatic theme music. It's give and take. (Let the record state that I LOVE Wives and Daughters despite its previously-mentioned shortcomings.) Thankfully we found an audiobook that required no compromise between us. It's called The Disappearing Spoon. We both are loving this book, but probably wouldn't recommend it to "normal" people because it's a history of the elements of the periodic table. So we may not like the same movies, but we've got chemistry! (I couldn't help myself.)

Old Fogey

My mom has always told me that I am an "old soul." I used to resent that statement, but as I am approaching "upper 20's" status (happy 27th to me tomorrow!) I have come to accept reality. I am an old soul. I love to go to bed early and wake up early. I am a school nurse (the next youngest school nurse in my district is older than my mother). I play racquetball with a group of ladies who are all over 65. I am already hitting the point where technology eludes me, and I don't even care. I've also hit the point where large groups of people overwhelm me, and I'd much have an intimate conversation with one or two other people rather than socializing with a boistrous group of 20. (Too much daggum racket!) I'm all about matinees and discounts, and I already have some gray hair. Time to come to grips with my identity.

Random thoughts that made me chuckle

My sisters recently read some of my blog posts and told me that I am ridiculous. They are probably right, but blogging is cheaper than therapy, so here we go.

When I was younger I had these huge gapped two front teeth. I basically looked like a beaver. My parents couldn't (or as I saw it, wouldn't) afford braces. They suddenly came up with the money for their third child. Justyn and I complained relentlessly, but Dad said she was the only one worth the investment. How kind. So anyway, every night I slept with a rubber band around my two enormous front teeth. I'm no dentist, but the gap is gone, and my teeth are all a uniform size. I attribute it to sheer will mixed with a little divine intervention. 

I took Caleb shopping for clothes over Christmas. It's his LEAST favorite pastime, but I decided it was time when he asked me to patch the patches in his shirts. I tried so hard to find things he liked, but he refused most of the shirts I picked out because, and I quote, "they won't look good with my lab coat." I have no idea what to do with this.

You know what phrase is an oxymoron? Urgent care. When have you ever received urgent care at an urgent care? We made a trip there the day after Christmas when Caleb had a nasty run-in with a box cutter. Either the staff were all descendants of turtles, or they were deliberately working as slowly as possible to punish us for making them work during the holidays. Four hours, four stitches, a hematoma, and a suicide inquiry later we decided that maybe next time we should try our luck with super glue.

I'm expecting some big returns on these 2 investments.

It's been one of those weeks. Been one of those years, actually. As 2014 winds down, I am currently battling a 13-month old with a NASTY case of strep throat, and a defiant nearly-3-year-old displaying some evident bitterness that her brother is getting lots of attention. And that's pretty much how 2014 has gone. Between his Tylenol-resistant 104 degree fever and her tendency for urinating on every piece of furniture in the house, I've come up with a goldmine of New Years' Resolutions. They are:
-To not get pregnant
-To get 8 uninterrupted hours of sleep for the first time in over a year.
-To speak more softly to my children
-To take Caleb on our first weekend getaway
-To try to remember the many good things that have also happened this year, such as making many lasting friendships, working as a school nurse, and reading some of my now-favorite books.
-To laugh more, such as the time last week when I put Alaina on time-out, and as I shut the door I heard her knock and mutter through her sobs, "Do you wanna build a snowman!?"

They say children refine you, but do you ever feel like you are becoming worse as a person from dealing with all the stresses of parenthood? I do. And I only have 2 children. How do moms of big families do it?!? But ask me if I'd rather just not have any kids at all, and I'd say, "Of course not!" My children are my treasure! It's just the kind of treasure that likes to sneak into your bed and kick you in the face at night.

Teeth chattering

I've decided to become an advocate for global warming. Yes, you heard me correctly. For global warming. After Jack Frost killed my favorite season with subzero temperatures and icy winds, I decided that a warmer world doesn't sound so bad. So I'm buying an SUV. And I'm cranking up the furnace. And I'm all for the Keystone pipeline. Burn those fossil fuels, baby, burn!
Ok, clearly the cabin fever is getting to me, but really. It is SO COLD. I've never read Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, but I'm pretty sure the logic is that Venus is closer to the Sun. And, I'm pretty sure they're lying about the whole fire and brimstone thing; I bet hell is just like the Midwest in January.

Dumb phone

Last week I gave my smart phone a lobotomy, and I'm very pleased with the results. It's still a mildly intelligent phone, but less of a time-sucking vortex.
1. I uninstalled my Facebook app. This doesn't mean I cancelled my account; it just means that now I have to make a deliberate choice to get on FB on my laptop, rather than just browsing every time I look at my phone. I waste much less time.
2. I put my phone in airplane mode whenever I go to church or read my scriptures on my phone. Less chance of distraction.
3) I only turn my data on when I am home or when I need something specific. It's liberating to be off the grid every once in a while.
I have, however discovered Overdrive, which has changed my life. No need to whistle while I work when I can read!

From the plains of Minnesota...

Tennessee is America's best kept secret. We went there this past weekend, and I would share pictures, except for Jesse gave my phone a bath so I have no photo evidence of our trip. But can you say rolling hills of autumn heaven? We learned a few tidbits of wisdom while down South. 1) the southern accent is contagious. It wasn't long before Caleb picked it up. Now I'm worried he'll grow his beard out and start wearing camo regularly. 2) bringing kids on a vacation will nullify the "vacation" part. 3) eating Sonic cheesy french fries on a hotel room floor with a one and two year old is way more fun than trick-or-treating in snow. 4) for the first time since Jesse's birth I witnessed my baby actually sleeping "like a baby." Both of our kids zonked out for hours in a stadium filled with thousands of screaming (mostly BYU) fans. Glorious. 5) when you get drowsy on your drive home, you can a) do the rational thing and pull over for a nap, or b) do the Caleb thing, and run laps around a gas station in 25 degree weather. So embarrassing. On the bright side, that same crazy man also showed some brilliance and resurrected my phone by running it through a "desiccator" or "decimator" or some other aggressive-sounding machine in his lab. So endearing.
At least the one photo we got was a cute one.

A half gallon of heaven

If ever there was a food that represented Lindsey, it was this.

I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful.

Hysterical. The word derives from the Latin word histericus, meaning "of the womb."  The ancients thought a woman's female reproductive organs were to blame for any emotional fits she displayed. They weren't too far off, I think. Where am I going with this? Well, some days I feel like a slave to my hormones. I usually take pride in my level head, so I can't stand that I can look at a calendar and say, "Caleb, you better avoid me for these three days of the month because I will be completely irrational and most likely try to kill you."
How can one person's emotions vary so drastically? Join me, I pray you, on my own personal emotional roller coaster ride of the last 24 hours:
1. Find some rad pants at the thrift store for three bucks. I am beautiful and trendy.
2. Two hours later, two-year-old urinates on carpet, which is followed by reprimanding her in a less-than-pleasant tone. I am now the basest of parents, and worthy of CPS intervention.
3. Hang up finishing touches in Jesse's Pinterest-worthy nursery (yes, a year late). I am crafty and creative.
4. Accidentally download virus onto family computer. I am stupid and incompetent.
5. Alaina repeats the word "stupid"after computer incident. See #2 feelings.

My roommates and I used to have compliment sessions in college. Nothing boosts your morale like hearing a thirty-minute discourse of reasons why you are the best ever. Some days I could sure use one of those. Maybe I'll plan one for this week's family home evening lesson...

Life lessons learned

Folding laundry next to your sick baby might mean returning the clothes to the washing machine sooner than expected.

Won't you be my neighbor?

You know, they say Daniel Tiger is a kid's show, but it's really a parenting show. All those catchy jingles are great for teaching. My sister might disagree. She thinks I'm one of those modern parents who spoils her kids. That may be true. But at least I'm not this bad:

http://youtu.be/9WfP_e3hsb4

Zzzzz

I am a sleep snob. Or at least I used to be before having two children. I am that person who went to bed at 9pm in college so she could get 8 solid hours in before her 6am clinical the next morning. And after graduating, I am that person who didn't even consider working night shifts because she preferred poverty to sleepless nights. I am that girl who used to lie her smiling face on her pillow every night and exclaim, "Ahh, my favorite part of the day!"
Unfortunately my sleep snobbery has reluctantly been put to rest (pun intended) within the last two years. You can thank my two adorable offspring for that.
Sometimes I go to bed at 9pm just so I might get six hours of sleep by 7am. Between thunderstorms, Alaina screaming for fear of thunderstorms, Jesse waking up 3-4 times, Alaina falling off the bed, and nausea from eating chips and salsa too late (that last one's my fault) I'd say our nights get a little crazy around here.
When we are young, people make us sleep when we don't want to.
Then when we grow up we want to sleep but nobody will let us (aka my life).
And then we get old, and have the freedom to sleep, but we can't.
And then we die.
So I guess in the end we all get to take a nice long nap.

If I die

Have you ever had that conversation with your spouse--the one where you give them instructions following your death? Ours is a continuing dialogue, where I throw in the do's and don'ts whenever they come to mind. Caleb hates it. I can't say I blame him. The subject's a real downer.
Like, for instance, when you're watching 17 Miracles, and your wife randomly says, "You know, if we were both stranded somewhere, and I die, I give you permission to eat me." This is then followed by a charged debate on whether cannibalism is ever truly acceptable, and whether or not I would take the liberty to eat Caleb if he were the first to die. FYI, My answer was, "Only with your permission!" (I didn't get it.)
And then there's the touchy subject of remarriage. I am well aware that Caleb would whither away without a wife to stuff food down his throat, so I have made my own list of worthy replacements. My only stipulation is that she be uglier than me, so I can be reassured even in the afterlife that I am his first love. I can see the wanted ad now:
Distraught Widower seeking replacement wife to raise 2 young children and manage household. Cheery disposition and "sweet spirit" required. Frumpiness encouraged.
Sometimes I will randomly ask Caleb, "So, what do you love about me?" just so I won't miss the good stuff in my eulogy. And speaking of funerals, I once heard of a man who died from complications of diabetes. His wishes were that his funeral be followed by an ice cream party, since his disease prevented him from eating his favorite treat while alive. I'm liking the sound of that.
As for Caleb, he won't give me much instruction in the case of his demise. He only says that purchasing a life insurance policy is tricky because he never wants to be worth more to me dead than alive. He says I met get ideas.

Lately

Murderer

Today I killed a firefly. It was an accident. I thought it was a mosquito, and as I crushed it's poor little body between my bare hands it sent out one final spark as if to say, "Goodbye cruel world!" In that instant I would not have felt more guilty if I was Lord Voldermort himself drinking precious unicorn blood, for there are few animals I love more than fireflies.
It reminded me of another time that I accidentally killed an animal. I was in the middle of heavy traffic a few years ago when out darted a kitten onto the freeway. A kitten! How did it get there?!? I watched in horror as he helplessly dodged cars, and then stopped frozen in front of me. In a split second I had to decide who deserved to live more: the kitten or the drivers on either side of me. Then a thump. I killed the kitten. And then I cried all the way home.
Sorry, this post turned out to be a real downer.

We just won't mention humidity and arctic winters.

Either it's the sleep deprivation or I am officially a converted Midwesterner, because hearing this song on the radio made me cry like a little girl.

Finding favor

Lately I have been overwhelmed by the negativity I find every time I go online. It seems that every news article and blog is determined to defame, attack, or hurt somebody. Compile that with the ever-increasing reports of mass shootings, and I could sure use a spoonful of sugar every once in a while to help swallow all the nasty reminders that humans can sometimes be terrible to each other. I'm not for censorship, but my heavens, is it necessary to destroy any person or organization that holds unpopular beliefs or mishandles a situation or even just says some dumb things? So instead of finding fault today my blog will be finding favor with some people and groups that deserve some positive recognition.

Here's to my neighborhood grocery store bakery that passes out a free cookie to my kids every time we go. It's a great incentive for Alaina to obey.

And let's hear it for Shane from the water company for being so accommodating with all the pipe problems we've had in the front yard.

Wanna know what else I love? Libraries. We frequent three libraries in our area, and I just love taking my kids there. Hooray for their summer reading programs too.

I love that the IU Health organization provides so many delivery options for pregnant women.

Chase Bank gives Alaina a sucker every time we use their drive-thru banking. And they always address me by my name. It's simple, but that extra customer service really impresses me.

I am a huge supporter of my husband, who works his tail off in grad school, and still finds time and energy to be a great spouse and father. Moms tend to get lots of recognition for their service and sacrifice, but let's not forget dads. They have hard jobs too.

Lastly, I just love the leaders of my church. Whenever I hear a prophet or apostle speak I feel like I get to know them better. I can tell they love the Lord. Their words uplift me and make me want to be better. I believe the Lord speaks to them, and I sustain and support them.

Life's better when we lift others up rather than tear them down.
With whom do you find favor?