TEXAS MOUNTAIN RANGE

I posted earlier this week about my daughter and her family living on Mount Mattel-the only known active volcano in Texas.  Who KNEW that here in the flatter than flat side of Fort Worth, her house would be smack dab in the middle of an entire mountain range.  This range is known as the "Dirty Clothes Peaks".  Why there are peaks surrounding the laundry room door, which put all those peaks I have climbed to shame.  A ten mile hike to the top of one of those lovely Rocky Mountain peaks pales when lined up with the mountains of laundry spilling from the laundry room into the kitchen.

Having been raised by the Queen of OCD--I have delusional thoughts that laundry should be done in a systematic way.  Laundry put in a central location to be washed--sorted into like colors and materials---washed and dried according to their labels.  WHAT WAS I THINKING!!!!

To begin with---the Little People tend to enjoy undressing--ALL OVER THE HOUSE--SO this means the first step is searching for all the unclean clothes--in each and every room--above and below every available surface.  How silly of me to think the laundry basket placed in the bedrooms/bathrooms would be the target for those items needing laundering.  Strip and Throw is the motto of these Little People. 

SO--I gather the clothes and then begin to sort---only to find after I have been called away to save one of these Little People from some impending doom or disaster- that #1 daughter has stepped in and crammed an entire load and a half into the super sized washing machine with total disregard for the correct sorting protocol. My eyelid began this funny twitching upon discovering the over-loaded-ill-sorted washer filling with water. 

The first week the Princess was here, I diligently sorted her clothing into its own pile of spit up and poop drenched items so that we could wash them in special soap to protect her delicate skin.  That lasted until #1 did a load one day and I discovered everything from baby clothes to dirty towels all in the same load.  Her rationale was we will use the gentle soap on it all.  I cringe and my mouth begins to jerk to one side, when I discover blue jeans and white big boys all in the same load---but hey it gets clean.

The MOST frustrating part of the laundry detail is the socks.  #1 has the philosophy if they have two clean socks on of the same length--all is well--NO NEED to match.  I begin to twitch when I see these precious little feet in mis-matched socks.  SO the first week there, I take the boys' socks and play match the sock.  I am left with a sack of mis-matched socks.  My plan is to throw them away---this does NOT make #1 happy--we NEED to keep those mis-matched---EVEN THOUGH there are 20+ pairs of matched socks now.  So slowly over the next three weeks we have once again ended up with a basket of mis-matched socks.  OBVIOUSLY the evil demon living in the washing machine eats one sock of each set to torment me.  Never mind that I find various lone socks outside, in the tree house, in the garage, in the car, and hidden in every conceivable crevice imaginable.

After the cleaning and drying comes the folding chore.  The Little Man has NEVER seen a basket of folded laundry that he did not feel the need to unfold and scatter.  THEN there is the confusion of what is clean and what is dirty since he has scattered them from room to room where the Little People have also shed their dirty clothes.  WHY????

I found it so perplexing that there was so much laundry, especially since one of the Little People is prone to wearing the same thing day after day---especially his favorite shirt.  NO MATTER that those jeans are so stiff they can stand alone with no leg needed for support.  What's important is having on your favorite super hero outfit.  Since one of the Little People is far from concerned about the cleanliness of his clothes, it became apparent to me another family must be living in the attic---or the neighbors must be sneaking over and throwing their dirties in the piles.  There was NO way six people could create this much dirty laundry.  I would go to bed with everything clean, dried, folded and put away to rise to more mountains of dirty clothes.  There could be no other answer than another family of 6+ contributing to the cause.

As a single person, I had been doing laundry only once a week--3-4 loads--in an orderly process ---with no confusion as to what was dirty and what was clean.  Those days have flown out the door while staying with the Little People--but on the bright side--I am well trained for another career as a Clothing Maintenance Engineer-if I can only get all these in-voluntary jerks and spasms to stop!  

A joyful heart is good medicine

Proverbs 17:22

ON THE ROAD AGAIN

It becomes necessary-on a daily basis to get these people from Point A to
 Point B.  "D" Day troop movements were easier to plan.

The simplest solution is the lovely mini van.  #1 Daughter laughs and says you fly under the radar if you drive a mini van.  It has begun to take on the appearance of a vehicle used in armed combat after two years of use and abuse by this crew.  The scrapes down the side are the beginning evidence of being rode hard and put up wet--but the true give away is the front bumper being held up by plastic ties.  IT IS A LONG STORY!

NOT THE ACTUAL VAN--SIMILAR-

-BUT YOU WILL NOTE THERE ARE NO SCRAPES OR PLASTIC TIES

Back to Point A to B---this land yacht at least has a seat for each of the four various styles of car seats.  The problem is there is no place for the resident Nanny except for the 4.78 inches between the two big boys seats on the very back row.  My wide load needs MORE than 4.78 inches.  Thankfully, the biggest boy can buckle himself in and out--but balks at helping the next in line in and out.  The last time I asked--after coercing him by playing the "OLD GRANDMA" card-I overheard him telling brother, "You have got to learn to do this yourself, I CANNOT keep helping you---I am getting tired of this."  REALLY!!!  The middle row contains The Little Man--who needs full assistance by an adult and The Princess--who gets to admire the view of her Big Brothers while facing backwards.  HEY---I am ALL about safety!

At any rate--after 15-20 minutes of loading the darling children up---we are off.  NO--NO we cannot leave until everyone has a snack and a drink of some type.  We cannot pull out of the drive for a few block journey to the park without nourishment.  THUS the fact there are various and sundry wrappers littering the floor and the spill stains on every cloth/carpet surface.  Why to drive the 20-30 minutes to my house, we have to pack a picnic hamper!  AND oh yes, we all need a book, toy, car, some form of entertainment for the next few seconds--so what is not filled with wrappers and stains is covered with remnants of the eruptions from Mount Mattel.

SO at last, we hit the road.  The fighting on the third row  and the wailing on the second road commence. The Princess does not enjoy these outings.  HOW I am able to get a block without slamming into someone is a mystery.  This occurs every time we are riding in the vehicle UNLESS it is 5:30----one and one half hour until the blessed bedtime---and I DO NOT WANT ANYONE NAPPING!  The entire back of the van falls asleep---ARRRGHH!   A 20 minute power nap means at least another hour added to bedtime.  I will not tell you about the day, I was desperately trying to keep the Little Man awake by offering treats from the picnic hamper.  When we got home, his mouth had to be scraped out since he fell asleep with a mouth full of cream cheese.  

SUCH FUN--Point A to Point B--

There are those days that I take all three of the boys in the back of my SMALL CAR!  The two boys by the window ALWAYS jump in first--meaning I have to lean over them to buckle in the Little Man.  THAT IS FUN!  Our trip conversations center around---"HE TOUCHED ME!"  "Brother HIT ME!"  "He TOOK MY CAR!"---there is NOT ENOUGH SPACE on the back seat of a Camry for these three!  The good news---I can REACH those little darlings---As I look in the rear view mirror--the threat begins with, "There is a red light up here and I am going to turn around and-----"  There should be warnings with small cars about the number of children you can safely transport without causing them bodily harm at red lights.

Our only other alternative is Dr. Daddy's COOL RIDE---a Land Rover.  It seems he does not allow all this consumption of supplies in his car and he insists there is no need for entertainment.  HUMMM!  At any rate, the only problem with the cool ride--is I have to crawl over the back seat to get into the only available spot for the Nanny on the third row.  The logistics of this happening were NOT pretty--but quite entertaining for the neighbors.  When my SIL threw down the challenge by saying, "I can get the screw driver and take this seat out so you can get in"---WELL here is the result of that trip

NO COMMENTS ABOUT THE PJ'S-

IT IS AMAZING the lengths you will go to when you have been house bound for a few days just to get from Point A to B!

He will yet fill your mouth with laughter, and your lips with shouting. 

Job 8:21

VOLCANO ZONE

Scientist are baffled by the occurrence of frequent earthquakes in the DFW area during the recent past.  When you leave mid North Louisiana--my home for most of my life (will always be home)--you are in the rolling hills.  Those same hills continue almost to the edge of Dallas with a brief re-occurrence mid Fort Worth.  It becomes flat on the edge of the Dallas area--and except for the last effort at rolling mid Fort Worth-it stays flat---FOREVER!  When I say F L A T, think of pancakes--no flatter---think of the finely sanded grain of the floors which have been trod upon for almost 100 years in my bungalow--no flatter still--in other words flatter than flat!  NOT the terrain you associate with earthquakes!  Why the only faults imaginable around here are the personality traits of some of the neighbors in The Hood!  WHY THEN ARE WE HAVING EARTHQUAKES--I DIGRESS!

It has come to my attention during the past month, that the house which Dr. SIL & #1 Daughter call home is directly on top of a live volcano which erupts daily--in fact SEVERAL times each day.  Appropriately, I have named the hissing and spitting volcano--MOUNT MATTEL.  For you see they are living upon a giant geyser which spews toys of various sizes and shapes multiple times each and every day--without exception from one end of their house to the other.  The eruptions are so violent that toys spill over into the garage and eventually bleed into the yard in streams filled with plastic/metal/wood- shaped as miniature versions of life size objects from all venues of life.  An eternal spring pouring a constant stream of child size objects bubbles from each and every room throughout the day--with no end to the supply ever found.

Once a day---we stop---and pick up--and put back---and try  to dam the flood--to no avail.  The eruptions begin the very next day---pre-dawn and continue until the last pint sized person is slumbering in their toy filled beds.  Not even the dark of the night and the quiet of slumber ceases their need to be surrounded by the objects of their amusement.  And yet--hope obviously springs eternal--for once again--we pick up--put up--and stow away the remains from the ash heap of today's eruption.

The NRA will never have to face extinction with the likes of these boys around.  Each and every room has an armament case of some type.  Guns, pistols, swords, knives, tanks, soldiers, armed hummers--and on and on.  The bullets come in all sizes and shapes and the supply is endless.  There is no limit to the number of single shot, semi-automatic and fully automatic weapons in the chests of the dwarf soldiers living within the confines of the fort within the house.  Why if all else fails, they will pull a finger out and shoot you between the eyes before you know what hit you.

I am quite certain one of the boys will be an engineer- for the blocks and building conglomerate is comprised of every known material---man-made and other.  There are enough of these tiny elements to create a pint size New York City.  DO NOT get me started on the millions upon millions of Legos.  WHAT demented inventor came up with this brilliant idea?  NOT one universal set to create many versatile replicas--but instead a new box and new set of Legos for each and every item to be built.

The rolling stock comes in all sizes and shapes with various uses.  Road building equipment, bikes, skate boards, cars, trucks, tractors, every possible item which might have a wheel--there is a replica.  NOT to be partial to wheels--there is also tracks, skis, and various other forms of movables in this collection.  From the very tinest to the size a small child could ride on.  Do not forget Thomas--and his friends and the thousands of train tracks nor the wooden road set with the village of wooden houses to go along.  Thomas also has cranes, engine houses, bridges, trees, and depots to name only a few.   Lest I forget--there is also little plastic people--to go with each and every venue.  There is also a closet dedicated to stuffed and plastic animals as well as every action figure who has ever donned a costume or cape.

Shelves of books, games, DVD's, flash cards, coloring books--and for heaven sake do not forget the colors, paint pens, clay, and sundry other forms of art and creativity.  The DVD collection alone fills a large binder.

Why would you pick it all up---why not let the volcano erupt and leave the field of debris where it landed after blowing from the chasm.  You will get a clearer picture of the need if you strew 3000 tiny lego pieces over the path between you and the children's room.  NOW turn off the lights and be sure it is the pitch dark of the night---you need to be sound asleep and have the wail of a two year old jerk you out of bed and take off blindly staggering to scoop up the shrill scream which threatens to wake up the rest of the mob.  THEN as you step bare footed onto lego after lego--you will understand WHY the volcano debris MUST be picked up before the blessing of sleep.  IF ONLY I could stem the flow--for ONE DAY--the perils of living on Mount Mattel!

My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

Psalm 62:1-2

OVER RATED!!!

One month down with this little family

The Little Princess can be the Little Tyrant.  She came into the world wailing with gusto and lets all of us know when she is unhappy.  ALL she wants is to be held in the correct position, fed at frequent intervals, and NOT TO BE FOOLED WITH!  She MUCH prefers a poopy diaper to a change and spit up infused clothing  to you stripping her and starting over.  Something tells me she is establishing just who will be in charge!

Meanwhile--the two year old is my new BFF.  I do not take a step out of his field of vision without him yelling at the top of his lungs--"YUYU---YUYU!!!"  He seems to be having the biggest adjustment--but has compensated by attaching himself to me.  One of his favorite things these days is wrapping around my ankle and me dragging him around the house.  We have come a LONG way in this month.  He has gone from getting up at 4:30 AM to 5:30---I consider that doable.  Since my running days--I have had a problem with the hour number being four on that digital clock.  He is back to willingly taking a nap--even asking for night-night.  I count the minutes until I get my hour nap when he is down for his.  He is quite the character and I have scheduled several "Lessons from the Little Man" posts to come.  He teaches me something almost every day.

BUT---I am happy to report--I will be home more now and able to write and BOY did they give me things to write about.  My CUP RUNNETH OVER!  I will still be at their house when Dr Daddy is working or needing to sleep--but we will begin trying to establish a new normal----AS IF ANY OF THIS WAS NORMAL!

I told my sweet friend who is also a counselor I was loosing my grip on sanity during one of the more intense days.  She reminded me sanity is over rated!  WHY YES---YES INDEED!  Playing the crazy card gives permission for all sorts of weird and unusual behavior AND the good news is no one thinks any less of you.  Why EVERY Southern family has their "Crazy Relation"!  I will generously offer to sacrifice my sanity for the sake of the family!  Something tells me I need not volunteer--that I was unanimously elected to the post of Crazy Lulu a long time ago.

So---I will not post everyday as before until the princess gets us into more of a routine-HER ROUTINE.  I will post when I am home.  One way to not miss and I promise you I have lots of funny stories to come about this past month is to sign up as a  follower on the right side of this page or follow me on Google + (Whatever that is!).  The next post will concern living on a volcano.  We all knew there were earthquakes happening in this region--but I made the amazing discovery we seem to be living on an active volcano.  WHO KNEW!

Thou hast anointed my head with oil; My cup runneth over.

Psalm 23:5

LESSONS FROM THE LITTLE MAN

There is a great deal of singing  and dancing that goes on at The Little Man's home.

One of his favorite songs is "Frozen Heart" from the popular "Frozen".

He takes his sword and acts out the motions and sings the lyrics--it is pretty darn cute.





"Beware the frozen heart."

A good life lesson for us all. 

 Why would a heart be icy--frozen?  As I thought this over, it is not from heartbreak.  This creates a bruised and torn heart---but there is no ice.  A broken heart may cause a protective barrier to be erected around the heart in an effort to prevent further injury---but the heart still feels--it is not icy or  frozen.

A frozen heart---is perhaps created when we are unwilling to forgive---hold a grudge--have deep seeded anger which simmers deep within us.  I learned a LONG time ago--my anger only hurt me AND gave power over me to the one it was directed toward.  Even righteous anger can become a wall between us and God--if we allow it to become an idol in our lives.

Why would I allow anything to stand between God and me?  What would be so important that I would give it the power to become more important than my relationship with Him?  When anger and resentment rule our lives---they become idols of our hearts.

SO---as the title song says---"LET IT GO!".  I for one am not able to let it go with my own power or because I say I will---I have to hand my inability to forgive--my anger over to God--and allow Him to help me give it up. There is a need to tell Him I cannot do this on my own---ONLY with your help.  THEN the thaw begins and my heart once again loves in warmth.

Today if you hear his voice,

do no harden you hearts.

Hebrews 3:15

EVERYONE NEEDS A DAY OFF

I read a great deal of historical fiction and love "Downton Abby" (not quite as much this season as previously though).  I began to notice a pattern---even the nanny gets a half day off.  I  gently shoved that idea on the  table at #1 Daughter's home and WAA LAA it happened. 

The first time was truly a half day-12 hours. #2 son came for the weekend to meet the princess--so I bolted out the door before he had scraped his shoes off on the door mat.  It takes thirty minutes to drive to my house so there went an hour---30 minutes for a good bath---and 10 1/2 hours sleeping.  

This day off has turned into 28 hours when Dr. SIL had the rare day off.  I collapsed on my bed and slept 3 hours as soon as I got home.  THEN I began the task of catching up.  It seems that MANY things slide into the column of I will do that later when you know The Little Man will be up at 4:30-5:00.  After everyone is in the bed, the dishes are washed, tomorrow's lunches ready to be prepared, a load of laundry in the washer and the dryer, I head for the bed myself.

I have learned that a 5 minute shower is plenty to get the top layer of spit up, sticky, today's meals, dirt from the boys' excavation site in the back yard, and any other of sundry substances I have come into contact with during the 15 hours since I got up.  Everything else can be put off---until Nanny's Day Off.

So after my nap--here are a few of the "I will do that later's"-

 I have shaved my legs--well in truth first I had to cut a little length off the hairs and then shave since I have not had my razor out of the bag since arriving at #1 Daughter's house 2 1/2 weeks ago.  After my long soaking bath to accomplish this--it took about 30 minutes to clean out the tub.  HEY--I am SMOOTH now!

Then there were the eyebrows who had been cast in their own production of 50 shades of gray.  Ms Clairol #12 fixed that problem--but then you could see all those stray brows.  Out came the tweezers.  Proud to report---you can now see I DO have eyebrows and all the wild hairs have vamoosed!

After sleeping 10 hours---it was time for a shower to wash my hair which had accumulated enough product during the week to allow it to stand as stiff as a board--straight out.  I have now officially been in the bath more minutes in one 24 hour period than I was for an entire week.  Happy to report I will begin this next stretch of Nannydom clean.

My nails---Well Scarlett, I will think about them tomorrow!  I did actually get a layer of make up on and my clothes are clean and I am rested.

The Princess and Her Knights

What I am left wondering is HOW IN THE WORLD DOES SHE GET ALL THIS DONE?  I raised 3 only children--they were born in three different decades-and one was pretty independent before the next came along.  This notion of having 4 babies in 5 1/2 years is only for the super woman.

I have an entire group of posts coming, once I resign my nanny position, of Living in the Land of the Little People.  NOT for the weak or faint of heart--the realities of day to day life with four children in your space make for an interesting story.  I am nominating my daughter for Most Courageous---for it truly takes courage to pull this off and keep smiling, laughing, and loving what you are doing.  She is MY HERO!

JUST SEND CHOCOLATE!

I am passing up falling into my bed the moment the house grows quiet tonight for my annual Valentine's Day post.  As these days are whizzing by, I am gaining all kinds of material for posting--including living in The Land of the Little People, but there are not enough hours in the day for blogging while on Lulu Duty.  I will be back-bear with me for a while longer.

Today is the day--many dread.  Those who are alone--and lonely find no cause for celebration when the day of love comes around.  Lost hope and disillusionment with no dream of fulfillment of the desire to share this day with 
another. The best to be hoped for is a quick end to a 24 hour reminder of the state of loneliness surrounding the day.

We celebrate romantic love, which is certainly a wonderful thing, but perhaps instead we should celebrate love as we find it in our lives--in all the forms it can take.  I am reminded of the saying my sweet daughter uses with her boys,

"You get what you get,

and don't throw a fit."

She can be very wise for one still so young.  

So today---I am celebrating the love of my sweet family--children, grandchildren, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, great nieces & nephews, aunt, uncle, cousins--the entire kit and caboodle--I am filled with love for them all.  The love of my friends--old, new, long time, brand new, some I see quite often, others very seldom--and still I think of you all with great love and affection. My life is filled with love.

Yes--it would be nice for Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet--or perhaps just take me for a walk and enjoy a simple chat.  We have made the day a celebration of romantic love--but there is so much more to love than romance.  The most beautiful love I have ever seen is that of a couple who have been together for years and years--and yet still hold hands--still listen to each other--still pledge to stick it out --no matter what.  Life is not a romantic novel and with time life can become difficult--but the enduring promise for better or worse takes my breath away.

God has chosen for me to not have a partner---but He also has filled my life with sweet family and dear friends.  Today I celebrate my love for each of you and wish you a joyous celebration filled with the knowledge of the most enduring love ever shown---that of our Father.

But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.

Psalm 13:5