The blonde mop

Ok, so we've established that my parenting skills are somewhat um... unique. I have learned patience over the last twenty two years, but I've always had a limit. My Kelsie, the darling girl who truly has not caused me worry a day in her life, found Mama's limit one evening when she was about five years old.

It had been a trying day already, I was exhausted and frustrated (Caleb was three & Chance was one at the time, so exhaustion and frustration were the norm). We lived in a small house with only one bathroom (family of six) and the toilet in that bathroom was backed up...AGAIN. I was in there getting ready to go somewhere for the evening, running late, hadn't even picked up the babysitter yet, the cubs are arguing in the living room, and NOW I have to plunge the toilet...AGAIN!! I saw Kelsie's reflection in the mirror, her long blond hair flying behind her. She liked to hang out with her mom, the make up process was always fascinating to her. After I curled her ridiculously long eyelashes she got bored and started looking around for some other diversion.

"Hey Mom? What's wrong with the potty?" Aaarrgh, "Do you need to use it Hon?" "No, but why is the water so high?" "Well it's blocked up again by something," (I suspected the cubs were playing a game of "drown the action figure") "and Mommy hasn't had time to fix it" THEN I gave her what I PERSONALLY thought were very clear directions. I may have even spoken loudly to drive the point home..."Do NOT flush it Kelsie or it will flood this whole bathroom, Ok?" and as I turned to look at her, to show her just how very much I was NOT joking, she looked me square in the eye...and flushed that dang toilet!!! She then had the utter audacity to look SURPRISED when water began gushing out of it with a vengeance.

There are times in a mother's life when she loses control of the ability to reason or even be sensible. I stood there in shock, water pouring on to my stockinged feet, looking at this beautiful little hellion who singlehandedly turned her mother into a maniacal lunatic.

Well, I needed to get this water cleaned up right now!! I had places to go!! Let's see, what could I use to soak it up with? Oh I KNOW!! This pink sweatsuit should work quite nicely. Why is this pink sweatsuit squirming around so much? As soon as Kelsie's clothes and hair had absorbed all that they possibly could, I came back from my brief sojourn into insanity, picked her up and stuck her in a shower (very convenient), and went about the business of REALLY cleaning up. To her credit, she did not cry, scream or, if memory serves...say anything to me.

I'm not PROUD of my actions that night. You won't find "Use your child as a mop" as a positive parenting skill in ANY of those self help books. In my defense, it really did feel like an out of body experience. Those big blue eyes looking into mine as she defiantly flushed the toilet just made me snap. She wanted to see my reaction and BOY did she! Maybe "Use your child as a mop" SHOULD be in those parenting guides, because as I mentioned before... Kelsie has been a supremely model child ever since and I'm proud to be her insane Mama.

My kid the Escape artist

Today is Kolby's 22nd birthday, so it's only right that I write some about him... come back with me... (insert eerie flashback music and affects here)

Time; 20 yrs ago, Place; Satan's Bellybutton, the biggest, hottest city in Arizona...Phoenix. Birthplace of one Kolby Carver. (birthplace of one Kelsie Carver too, but this ain't her story).

Kolby could do NO wrong in his Mama's eyes the kid was perfect in every way. He was extraordinarily beautiful, he was smart, he was an ANGEL! He was also the busiest little punk on the planet!! The first time this busyness became truly alarming was after Kolby got his "big boy bed". It never occurred to me that although his crib was a "little boy bed", it was also a highly effective CAGE!

One afternoon I put him down for a nap and sat down to watch one of the 3 soap operas I was addicted to at the time, and fold some laundry. I was just about to find out if Timothy was married to the twin sister he was separated from in infancy on "As the Stomach Turns" when there was a knock on my door. It was the neighbor across the courtyard from us coming for a visit evidently. She was holding the hand of an absolutely DARLING little boy. I answered the door with a smile and she says promptly "Is this your baby?". Well, I give the kid a sideways courtesy glance, but of course it's not my baby. MY baby is asleep in his room. Now her kid is hugging my leg...friendly little guy. I look kindly down at him. HOLY CRAP!! This IS my kid!!

Turns out the little monkey started building himself an architecturally sound ladder under his window as soon as I closed his door for nap time. He got high enough, opened said window, climbed OUT of it, hung down from the sill, and DROPPED a good 4 feet to the ground. Now mind you this is a 2 year old who is barely forming complete sentences. Thank GOODNESS we lived in a ground floor apartment!! Thank goodness also that this neighbor happened by and SAW the great escape, who KNOWS what could have happened! After that I went out and bought a window lock so he would NOT be pulling that stunt again. How terrifying (not to mention embarrassing).

Very shortly after this little incident I began to leave his father in charge in the evenings because I had to work. He was aware of the window debacle and rolled his eyes as I told him again to keep a wary eye on this little boy. So I went off to work that evening thinking everything was under control. Uh huh...

When I got home late that night I found my husband waiting up for me and looking rather sheepish. Turns out that shortly after I left, he (the husband) fell asleep on the couch. Kolby's window was locked, but guess what!? The door wasn't! Monte wakes up to a knock similar to the one I had heard a few days previous. But it's not a concerned neighbor lady for him...nope. It's the cops. "Sir, is this your baby?" Kolby had opened the door, squeezed through, and closed it quietly so as not to awaken his daddy. Such a thoughtful little dude. I guess another neighbor (obviously not the one who knew where he belonged) called the police with a lost & found baby case.

Needless to say I was UBER irked with my husband for sleeping on the job, but from then on that little maggot was escaping every chance he got. I could not leave the room...EVER!!

My husband thought he'd vindicate himself one night and brought home 100 yards of nylon rope. You guessed it, his plan was to tether my child. He tied one end to the leg of the couch, and the other end around Kolby's waist. I was MORTIFIED!! What in the heck would the neighbors think?!? I went into the kitchen barking mad and Monte followed me to try and defend his idea. I came back out with plates...and Kolb was gone. I went and picked up the rope on the floor and began to reel in my son. Hmmm, not such a bad idea after all!

I'm so proud!

I can count on one hand the times I have taken all of my kids to Wal-Mart at the same time. Cuz EVERytime I did I ended up regretting it sorely and SWEARing on all that was Holy that I wouldn't do it again.

One such day, when I was obviously not thinking clearly, I decided to take them all with me just for funsies. We were doing pretty well...had two hanging onto one side of the cart, two hanging onto the other side, and one sitting in the little seat. (on a side note, it takes an extremely long time to break kids of the hanging on habit...my 19 year old still hangs onto the cart when we go shopping. Drives me nuts). The two oldest were helping me look for items, and the bearcubs (Caleb & Chance) had yet to begin brawling in the middle of the aisle so I was counting my lucky stars.

Well, I was lured into a false sense of security and began to let my eyes stray from the crew for more than 5 seconds at a time and THAT'S when he made his move!! 7 yr old Caleb disappeared into thin air! Alright, no need to panic...I sent Kelsie to look for him in the toy department, Kolby went to electronics, and I took the two youngest to the candy aisle. No Caleb. Well he's NOT stupid, he KNOWS not to talk to strangers, we'll just broaden our search. Let's see, sporting goods (he likes guns), and cereal (the sugary crap I never buy them). NOTHING!! Starting to panic!!

We are now settling down for a good old fashioned quadrant search (I SWEAR on ALL that's holy I am NEVER bringing them all with me ANYwhere EVER aGAIN!!!). Kelsie took the front/right of the store, Kolby; front/left, and I took the back with my two assistants.

I was really starting to freak out when Kolby comes trucking up with Caleb, whom he found sitting amongst the candy up by the registers (FRICK! Forgot about THAT candy!). 12 year old Kolby was quite proud of himself for saving the day. "He was sitting right there eating a Snickers Mom, so I said 'CALEB, Mom is SOOO mad right now! Finish that, and let's GO!!'" I stopped short, wondering if this would be a good time to lecture on stealing, honesty, gluttony, and being a good example to your little brother...or just grab all five of them, leave the cart where it is and just get the bloody heck OUT of there!! Did I say five? Where on earth is Kelsie!?!?

Mineral deposit

I was eating lunch with my Mama and Auntie a few days ago, lamenting my dementia and the fact that I love to write in here, but can never think of anything to write about. My mother was kind enough to bring back a wonderful memory for me. Something that any OTHER Mama would be remiss to forget! And yet...I forget.

For Caleb's 6th birthday I decided it would be fun to get him a CTR ring (for anyone not educated in "Mormon" lingo, "CTR" stands for "Choose The Right". Kind of our version of "WWJD"). Not those narsty lil ones they give out at church that chip green paint, turn one's finger green, or deliver a wicked blood blister if someone squeezes your hand too hard. I went to "FarWest" and bought him a nice little sterling silver one with a blue (his favorite color) ceramic inlay. Very COOL looking ring for a 6 year old!

He wore it with pride and enjoyed having something on his hand that his classmates asked him about (the very purpose of a good "CTR" ring!). Lil CJ wore his new ring without incident for a good 2 weeks before I got the call...The call came from the school nurse one afternoon, (those calls always make a mom's heart stop).

According to the Nurse my little guy went to wash his hands in the class sink, and not wanting his ring to get wet (you know, I've never understood that. Who gives a rip if the ring gets wet? Unless it's one of those horrifying cheap tin rings), he tried to take off his ring. It was not easily removed (for his mama is AWESOME, and had it sized perfectly) so he proceeded to put his finger in his mouth and, using his teeth as some sort of plier-like device pryed the ring off of his finger. His teacher noticed that his hands were yet unwashed and his face was red, his blue eyes huge.

"Um...you okay Caleb?" she asks with concern. "No, I just swallowed my ring" he replies with...well, concern. This is where the nurse comes into the story and gives Mom a heart attack.

Let's see, this is my 3rd child...2 kids after psycho, overprotective, helicopter mom...and 2 kids BEFORE completely exhausted, "if you're not spurting blood, STIFLE!" mom. SOOO, I did call the doctor, but did NOT take him to the Emergency Room. Sadly, the doc did choose to inconvenience me by sending us to the Imaging Clinic for an x-ray. Frankly, I'm not certain that she just didn't want a picture of something interesting to show at the next Doctor's Bunco tournament.

The X-ray WAS very interesting to look at. A perfect little CTR ring (yes, it was quite evident what kind of ring it was) all settled in his stomach. So now I have the doctor wondering what we should do. Do we give him ipecac and have him throw it up? Yeah, lets try that!

Ipecac is evidently best used when one wants to hurl up something that weighs LESS than .4 oz.

Her next idea? Bread...feed the kid lots of bread and push that ring right on out!! Um excuse me Doc? Exactly how are we to know if the ring has extricated from it's current location? Uh huh...Say what now??

I mentioned that this is my 3rd child, not my 1st right? I stopped having to see that particular bi-product of THIS particular kid 4 & 1/2 years ago!!

Needless to say, although I love Caleb sooooooo very much, I have no physical evidence that his ring ever left his system. I'm only hoping that a sewer system somewhere in Pasco is "Choosing the Right!"

"Can we go the fun way?"

Saturday little McKenna and I were coming home after running a few errands. We had a few bags of groceries in the car and I was tired. As we stopped at the light there on Rd 100 & Chapel Hill, she turned to me and said "can we go the fun way Mom?". There are several ways to get to our house from where we were. I tend to choose the one that is shortest and straightest the most calm and unexciting. The "fun way" I liken to a dirt road roller coaster.

When my Mac asked to go "the fun way" I immediately said the most logical thing imaginable... "no Baby, we have groceries back there, let's just go the normal way". But then I glanced at my sweet little girl (who EXPECTED that very answer from her super boring Mama) and I thought to myself "She is getting so big, how much longer will a simple change in routes be exciting to her?".

So just to emphasize my sudden change of heart I accelerated Big Blue a little more than necessary and barreled on straight through the light instead of turning right like we do for Logical Lane, Reasonable Route, Sensible Street...

Her eyes lit up as we turned onto Fun Way, I sped Ol' Blue up and he rewarded us with his thundering, rumbling, Big Bad @$$, muffler's a mess, engine roar. We came to that steep dirt hill and went tearing down it with no thought of slowing down. I glanced at her again and saw a huge grin as she was defying gravity, nothing but a seatbelt keeping her tethered to earth, her hair looking as if she was in suspended animation. I'm always grateful that Big Blue is made out of a half ton of Detroit steel when we take this way because I swear if it were any other car, we'd flip that sucker coming up the smaller hill on a bit of an angle, my superior driving skills notwithstanding...

We pulled into the driveway and as my little Punkin began to gladly gather up the groceries (canned goods under all the seats, bread up on the dashboard) I decided that I DON'T need to take Logical Lane all the time. What harm is there in going "the fun way"? We still reach our destination! And the joy of a happy, laughing little face far outweighs the inconvenience of catching a head of lettuce as it rolls out the back door!

Back in Time

Well, I'm back home after the much anticipated 25th class reunion for LVHS's class of '85. I've had a hard time sleeping the last few nights because I knew I wanted to write about this adventure while it was still fresh in my mind. Visions of poignant memories and lovely witticisms were floating through my head. Do you think I can come up with any of those heartwarming sentiments now?!

Lander, WY. The town that I've loved and held such fond memories of for decades now. Going to Lander IS going home for me. The best friends I've ever had, I made there. I fell in love for the very first time in that little town. My very first anguished heartbreak happened in Lander. I guess Lander is home because that is where most of my rites of passage occurred. My mother and I were comparing notes on my beloved town. I remembered the beauty, the mountains, the Sinks, Red Canyon...she remembers the wind, the snow drifts, the cold weather, and according to her...cold people too. I guess I DID pick up on the "if you weren't born here, you're not as good as us" mentality in some people. Luckily, the friends that I made thought I was ok even if I DID come from Alaska, or Nevada, or Sheridan (plus more ;p ). Coming from so many different places, Lander was the first place I lived for more than 2 years. Yet another reason I felt I had finally found a home.

This reunion was a flashback for me. My dear friends though older, wiser, and accomplished in life, are the same people they were when we were kids.

There's the leader. The girl I would follow into Hell if she told me to. Smarter than me, so very confident, she knew from birth what she was going to do with her life and she DID it!! She always had my admiration and endless devotion.

Then there was the dear mother figure of the group. She worried (still worries) about all of us. She thought of everyone else more than herself. Perhaps this caring quality is the reason she chose the profession of teacher. I know she'd take a stand between me and danger without a thought, and I hope she knows I'd do the same for her.

There's the local girl who married a local boy. We had our ups and downs but when push came to shove, nobody was ever kinder to me. I couldn't have lived without her loving nature.

My other local girl...she was the All American. A musician and a jock, completely fun to be around and so very easy going. Hanging out with her was like walking on the Oregon Coast. Cool, breezy, completely relaxing.

I was...still am perhaps, the follower. Happy to be accepted, happy to feel like I belonged. Tried to make sure everyone got along. Wanted to be liked and tried hard not to make waves.

What we've decided about our unholy alliance...we may not always like each other, but we DO always love each other, and hell hath no fury like we will if you mess with one of our girls!!

This reunion was fun, silly, and enlightening. Seeing old friends who have grown in wisdom & maturity, yet they are the exact same people I left 25 years ago.

The sweet boys I dated back then look exactly the same to me today. They still have the mischievous grins of their youth, and their eyes still twinkle. But now those eyes are also filled with the wisdom and experience 25 years of love, laughter, pain, family,careers etc. have given them.

This has been such a wonderful gift for me in other ways. I have found again, and love dearly, some wonderful people that had slipped away from me through the years.

My sweet best friend who's heart is bigger than the Wind Rivers. Always time for those who need him. I'm so happy his true love is bringing him back to this side of the country!! ;]

Our darling, "most shy" boy who I found once more a few months ago. I tried to get to know him in High School, but he wasn't ready then. So glad he's giving me the chance to disrupt his serene life now!

Last but not least, my new little sister. I am so in love with my adorable "blood" sisters and am so protective of them... I'm elated to have another little sis (and you actually look more like me than they do) ;] Thank you Angel for all you do. You've truly walked a mile or two in my shoes.

I came home (to Pasco)a little dazed and feeling somewhat inadequate in my life. ALL of these friends are educated, professional, intelligent people who have grabbed life by the horns in one way or another and wrestled that sucker to the ground. What have I done? What have I accomplished? Then I walked into my home where I was embraced fiercely by 4 of my 5 Angel children. They missed their Mama. It hit me like one of those gale force winds from my little home town. I might not be a professional person, I never got my degree. I might be a second rate wife, I may be a mediocre person as a whole...but I'm a great mommy. I love and give every ounce of who I am to my sweet kids. They love me unconditionally and that's worth everything to me.

My letter to my favorite teacher, Mr Dennis Cone

You know, I think that most of us have had a favorite teacher. The leader of that one class that we could look forward to every day. But Mr. Cone, it takes a VERY special teacher to invoke the kind of fierce loyalty, love and devotion that you have received from so many students for so many years! You have a way of making each of us feel special. Your humor, your infectious love and passion for music, your talent for making our choirs SO fun and successful, were reason enough for your students to adore you. But you took it a step further by taking an interest in your individual students. We all KNEW without a doubt that you cared about us.

I count myself among the EXTREMELY blessed. I was able to have Uncle Dennis as my friend, teacher and mentor for Five years! At Starrett in the cafeteria every morning, watching as you patiently (oh yes, you were SOOO patient) trying to get those squirrelly Jr. High students to concentrate on your vision. One of the greatest days was when you hurdled the first row of singers, grabbed Wade Alexander, pushed him all the way back while he was still in his chair, and convinced him that some better behavior might be in order. I was a bit worried for you because I had never truly seen that shade of red before, and that was the first time (sadly not the last) that I saw the vein on your temple throbbing. It was also in Jr High that I discovered how much I wanted to make you proud. You discovered that I could read music and seemed genuinely pleased. I was thrilled that I had made you happy, and I was devoted to you from that time forth.

In HS I always had at least two choir classes. I majored in singing and found such joy in it. You helped us all to feel pride in what we were doing. Valley Singers were ALWAYS elite! We wanted to make you proud and you worked so hard to show us who we could become. We drove you nuts, we teased you, we bribed you with candy if we were tardy, and we loved you more than you will ever know.

We loved preparing for our concerts because that's when lovely Lucy would come and play for us so you could concentrate fully on your choirs. She was amazing and read you like a book. She knew where you wanted to start before you did, she was like an extension of you! You two were the "ConeCreature", reading each other's minds and knowing exactly what to do to mold all these goobs into a fantastic singing group. I especially loved when Lucy brought Molly so we could pack her around and spoil her. Unfortunately we didn't get her very often (what? she wasn't distracting us!).

Do you know what is most incredible? The fact that your influence on me carried through the years to my beautiful daughter Kelsie. I was able to cultivate a love of music in her just as you did in me. I was able to recognize her talent and encourage her, just as you did me. Kelsie sang her very first solo (on a stage in front of 100s of people) when she was 8 years old. I was able to instill confidence in her and she was bitten by the performance bug. I took her (and her brothers) through several school and church plays and talent shows for the next 6 or 7 years until she got to HS. Then guess what happened!? She found her very own Mr. Cone (only his name is Mr. Haug)! He took over for me and took her to new heights in an amazing show choir, and he allowed me to tag along and sell tickets and spearhead fundraisers ;].

Congratulations to you and Lucy on your "retirement". I put the word in quotes because I know you two well enough to know that you won't slow down. You two will always be pillars in the community in whatever you do. How wonderful it must be for you to know that you have touched the lives of thousands of people in such a positive way! What an incredible feeling that must be!

Thank God for you Mr. Cone! I shudder to think of what my life (or the life of my family) might have been like if you had not been around to show me what a joy music is. I will NEVER be able to thank you enough for the difference you've made. None of us will be able to. But please at least know how incredibly important you are to Kelly (Girl) Smith class of '85. YOU made my HS days wonderful and I truly love you so much!

Love and Devotion Forever,


Kelly Lee Smith '85

Starrett Jr High 8th grade choir
LVHS Concert choir
LVHS Girls Select Choir
LVHS Valley Singers
"The Unsinkable Molly Brown"
"Finnian's Rainbow"
Winter Fair Queen Pageant

Holy Smokes you musta been SO VERY sick of me!! ;]

I love it when I'm reminded of what a nurturing and wonderful caregiver I am. =]

I was talking to Caleb tonight about how being a nursery leader in church is VERY trying for me at times. Short explanation...I am having some pretty severe withdrawal symptoms as a result of cold turkeying a prescription med. Anyhoo, I was telling him how we have a few screamers at the beginning of the class and I'll do almost anything to shut these little creatures up. Their crying slices thru my eardrums and then rolls through my brain on an electric storm. It truly sends me into what I call a neural overload and makes me panic.

Caleb then proceeded to tell me that it was a DANG good thing I wasn't involved in cub scouts anymore or I would probably be in jail. Now Honestly, the events of the story I'm about to tell you didn't make as much of an impact on me as it did on Caleb. Oh, he remembers it with great glee...

About 6 years ago I found myself running a particular activity at our annual Cub Scout Day Camp. I think I was just teaching them a few different games that pioneer children played. I enlisted the help of Caleb and Kolby that day and they were awesome! For most of the day we were having a great time, the boys were loving the games, were excited to learn, were just thriving on the running and the fresh air in their pink little lungs. We were doing several activities with several groups of boys circuit style. Each group of about 10 boys each would rotate through every half hour or so.

One particular group of boys showed up ready to go, and I could tell right away that this group was gonna be trouble. There WAS a ringleader. An ornery, disrespectful little dude who probably only REALLY needed the love and attention of his father...Well I was TRYING to be patient and have a sweet and Christ-like attitude as this kid became more and more disruptive, more and more obnoxious, more and more out of control. As I was explaining the rules of one of our games, he started acting out and began to be physically aggressive toward a few of his group-mates. Well, if you ask my kids how I would advise them to deal with a "bully" you'll find that "turning the other cheek" has never come up. I very cleverly and stealthily (or so I thought) made a subtle move and hip-checked that kid right on his @$$. Then I proceeded to act so surprised, picked him up, brushed him off, asked him if he tripped or something and went on my merry way with explaining the game. The startled look on that kids face was flippin' priceless. I think I had him convinced that the wind knocked him over, but for the remainder of our time together he was an attentive little angel.

As this group was leaving our station, Mr. Ornery was winding back up to his full butthead status and I was finding myself sympathizing with the next station leader he would encounter. Surely they would not have the presence of mind to knock the kid on his crack as I had. As we were watching them walk away Caleb looked at me and started laughing. He said "Mom, that was the greatest thing I've ever seen!" I tried to look puzzled, but yeah...my kid knows his mom too well.

So as he was reminding me of this occurrence 6 years ago, we decided that if I had been plagued with my neural overload problems of today, that boy might not have fared so well.

The Naming of the Crew

How bout that title?! I'm so clever sometimes it frightens me. Throughout the last twenty years each of my kids at one time or another has asked me how we came up with their names. Either out of curiosity or a school or church lesson, they have wanted to know the origin of their individual labels. So here goes...

Kolby Knight: My firstborn. My initiation into the overwhelming world of parenthood. What to name this little person who is entrusting me with everything. Well I'll tell you right now that I *wanted* to name you Christopher (or Kristopher) and call you Kit. But the only way Monte would go for that was to forgo the Christopher part and name you Kit Carson Carver. Now although Kit Carson WAS a real and influential man (whose REAL name was Christopher by the way...just throwin that out there), I thought it was silly to name my baby after some guy in a book that we weren't even related to! Why not name a child Alice in Wonderland Carver? Sheesh! We could not come up with anything we both liked and the vetoes were flying like bullets. We both wanted originality, something that flowed with the last name, it wasn't coming. Finally, as your dad was selling pest control door to door, he came across a man who had a name that he liked. After selling this dude on some bug warfare he came home and shared the name with me, and I liked it too! Kolby it was!! Your middle name was easy for me and I all but demanded it, Dad didn't argue. It's my mom's maiden name, a name that conjours thoughts of a man standing for truth and righteousness. A man who will fight for what's right. A man like the man I knew you would be. My Knight.

Kelsie Lucretia: Your name was not easy to come by either. Your dad thought it would be cool to somehow tie in your name with mine. I was flattered but wasn't sure that it was the right thing to do to my little girl, after all I was named after my dad's favorite Irish Pub, but I let Monte play with my name and try to find something. Unfortunately what he came up with was Kelicia or Keleasha, I'm not sure how he wanted to spell it, but you get the idea. I thought that this name might be a little too um...ethnic, for the two whitest people on earth. After alot of names and more vetoes were thrown around (this time we had Kolby's ideas too...Cookie, Lambchop), we both tentatively settled on Chelsea. We told your dad's Aunt Christie our name choice and she said "Why Chelsea? Name her Kelsie." Well Wow! What a revelation! That was it from that day forward. Your dad and I kind of had an agreement that we'd trade off the middle names and sadly for you...this was his turn ;] Your middle name is the name of your dad's mommy. The woman that he worshiped above all others. She was a bit annoyed that we named her sweet granddaughter Lucretia, having lived with the name all her life, but I'm glad we did and I think you are too.

Caleb Justice: Your dad and I still felt like kids ourselves when we had your two older siblings. When you came along we were starting to feel like grown-ups. We had just begun to purchase our first home, we bought a mini-van, we were professional parents now! So we took a more grown-up approach to naming you. In other words, your dad pretty much left it up to me (after all, it was my turn for the *middle* naming anyway). Obviously he had to push for Kit Carson Carver again, but after that he was pretty agreeable to my favorites. You were born and we were in the hospital but I still had not come up with a suitable name for this gorgeous little creature. My first choice was Sterling which I still love, it made me think of you as a Supreme Court Judge, or a Texas Ranger. I called you Sterling for several hours but it wasn't working for me. Then I decided upon Casey Jon. Casey had some sentimental value for me and Jon is my dad's name. That would probably buy me some brownie points with my folks. I even went so far as to call my family and tell them that this was your name. But that night, actually it was around 3 in the morning, in that dim hospital room where you and I were the only occupants, I was holding you and looking at your perfect little face and I knew that your name was not Casey Jon. It was Caleb Justice. It slid into place in my mind like a Lego block. It clicked. For whatever reason your name could be nothing else. To me Son, this is important. You are meant for something great and your name will be tied to it. Keep that in mind always. What will you do with this name?

Chance Chatelain: Obviously it was your daddy's turn for the middle name again ;) After we had the usual and endless "Kit Carson Carver" argument, we both settled on Chance fairly quickly. Your dad likes to tell people that we named you Chance because that's kinda how you came to be. We do have fun with your name...slim Chance, fat Chance, no Chance, notta Chance, last Chance. I came up with your name, and while I let your dad's brain and mouth run amok, I know where your name came from. I got it from a beautiful song titled "I Am Your Child" and if your dad had any notion that I got your name from a Barry Manilow song he would have used his biggest veto on it. So I kept that information to myself until it was too late for him to do anything. To me your name means infinite hope and optimism. Chatelain is the maiden name of your Grandpa Bob's mother. A spunky and fun red-head who left him too soon. So far you've lived up to your name of potential and affirmation. You keep it up my little man!

McKenna Elyse: Our sweet baby girl. We knew that you would be our last little one so your name weighed pretty heavy on my mind. If you were a boy you were going to be named Connor (whether your dad liked it or not), but I was having a harder time with girl names. By the time you were a week from being here we had it narrowed down to McKenna and Cheyenne. Both of them brought to my mind beauty, strength, femininity, nature, and a carefree spirit. I'm a Wyoming girl so I was leaning toward Cheyenne, but I had been kind of a hog the last couple times with the baby naming. Monte's favorite movie is "Somewhere in Time" with Jane Seymour and Christopher Reeve. He had (still has) a huge crush on Jane Seymour, and I don't mind watching the movie with him because Christopher Reeve (God rest his soul) is absolutely beautiful in this movie. I digress Sweetheart...Jane Seymour's character's name in this movie is Elyse McKenna. I liked the fact that McKenna (like Kelly ;]) is an Irish name, and I liked it better as a first name so we did a switcheroo and Ta DAH.... Yes, we are very clever. I love it.

There you go my darlings. There, for better or worse, is the nature and origin of all of your names. I'm proud of all of them just as I am proud of the people they title. You five are my life and truest loves. Make good use of these names. Treat them with respect so they will be spoken with respect by your posterity.

I love you Chris

Thought of you with love today, but that is nothing new. I thought about you yesterday, and days before that too. I think of you in silence, I often speak your name. All I have are memories and a picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake, with which I'll never part. God has you in His keeping, I have you in my heart.

Tweet Tweet

I took my little Nephew Keldon a toy the other day. It's a fuzzy little chick that tweets when it sits on your hand. I think the moisture from your skin connects with these two little electrical diode uh....thingymabobs. Anyway, the chickie tweets.

Watching Baby Kel play with his chickie reminded me of the first tweeting toy chickie that I was exposed to. It belonged to my son Kolby.

Kolby loved making that little bugger tweet. One Sunday we were having a bit of an argument because he wanted to take his chickie to church and MOM thought that an incessant tweeting chickie might just get us kicked out. Well stubborn Kolby said he was TAKING his chickie and headed to the door. He opened the front door, (tweet, tweet, tweet). Then he touched the screen door (tweet, tweet). Little did Kolbs know that there was a twitterpated birdie out in our fir tree who wanted to MEET his chickie! He opened that screen door and Mr Twitter divebombed Kolby in order to rescue chickie (I can only assume it was a man bird, cuz us girls aren't nearly that hard up for love).

Well being the cool and collected mom that I am, I hit the deck screaming with my arms over my head (I have this problem with flappy flying things). Kolby looked bewildered and then somewhat alarmed as Twitter was still trying to kiss chickie. He did the wisest thing possible and chucked chickie as far away as he could. Daddy was being no help at all as he was laughing his @$$ off in the kitchen. Mama is still prone on the floor trying to regain some courage (not to mention dignity ) and little Kelsie was sitting on the floor next to Mom munching on a graham cracker taking everything in with those big blue eyes.

After Dad and Mom were able to compose themselves, we went throughout the house opening every door and window so we could herd poor little lovelorn Twitter back outside where his feathery butt belonged.

The good news is little Kolbster forgot all about taking his tweeting chickie to church after this adventure.

Intro to Me

Well, I thought I'd jump on the bandwagon and try my hand at blogging. I have a "Facebook" page that I am ridiculously loyal to...I mean I am on that thing ALL the time! But I don't feel like I can completely express myself on there. My friends wouldn't understand all the random crap that runs through my middle aged yet child-like brain.

This is mostly for myself. I like to write... and when I'm sad, writing my feelings down is usually the only way I can move on. In fact I'll be sharing some things that I've already written upon my "MySpace" page (did I fail to mention I have a MySpace? I'm NOT freakishly loyal to it. In fact I rarely visit it anymore).

Brief synopsis, I'm the 43 year old mother of five exceptional children. Ages 21, 18, 15, 13, and 8. Three boys and two girls. These little people (to me they will always be little) are my life. They're my reason for living and my extreme joy. True, there have been times of great frustration and heartbreak, but thru it all I am so very blessed to have been trusted with these amazing spirits. I'm so proud of them!

I've been married to the same man for almost 23 years, I guess in this day and age that is something to brag of. He is a good man, a good dad, and a good provider. He's allowed me to be able to stay home with my little ones for most of these 23 years.

I'm goofy to the core, I enjoy teasing and having fun. I don't take myself too seriously...EVER. My kids all have wonderful senses of humor and I attribute this (hopefully) to their mama playing with them and being silly all their lives.

I have NO idea how often I'll be on here or how much I'll contribute to it. We'll just have to see, I'm curious myself.

I'm a sucker for a Rainbow

If I could catch a rainbow
I would do it just for you
and share with you its beauty
On the days you’re feeling blue.



If I could build a mountain
You could call your very own;
A place to find serenity,
A place to be alone.


..


If I could take your troubles
I would toss them in the sea,
But all these things I’m finding
are impossible for me.
I cannot build a mountain
Or catch a rainbow fair,
But let me be what I know best,
A friend who’s always there.

Thursday, February 07, 2008 (The day Kolby left me)

19 years and this is where it is?
No "thank you" no hug good-bye.
Having a great time with him this morning
only to be blind-sided by him tonight.
What did I do? What didn't I do?
I remember yesterday when he was a baby.
He was the most perfect of all God's creations.
Big beautiful brown eyes that looked to me for guidance.
They looked to me for everything.
When they filled with tears I could kiss or tickle them away.
Now my blue eyes are filled with tears.
Where's my kiss?
Did someone tell me that being a mom could hurt this bad?
If they did, I surely would have remembered.
How did this person that he's known for a few years,
become more of an influence than the person who has adored him his whole life?
It doesn't seem fair.
What should I have done?
What shouldn't I have done?
All of a sudden nothing else matters.
The problems that are always floating through my head.
My brown eyed baby left me.
My heart is in pieces.
How do I tell his baby sister that her hero is gone?
He didn't care to tell her good bye either.
I guess I concentrate on my other four babies.
But now I'll be uncertain.
Second guessing myself.
What should I do? What shouldn't I do?

If I Love You

If I love you then there are ten things you need to know about me.

1. Don't tell me not to worry about you cuz' this is what I do. You may as well tell my heart not to beat.

2. Bill Clinton said it but I mean it...I feel your pain. I have the gift of discerning when you're hurting and I am hugely empathetic. Again, something I can't help.

3. I will defend you fiercely with all that is in me. I will go Mama Bear on the butt of anyone who tries to hurt you while I'm around.

4. I will believe anything you tell me. Even when you lie to me. If I find out you lied to me it will hurt me deeply...but I will still love you.

5. I will stand up for you if I hear someone put you down. I will probably end up insulting them in the process.

6. Nothing makes me happier than a hug from you.

7. I will think about you AT LEAST once a day, probably more.

8. I will pray for you each night. Again, not negotiable, don't even try to ask me not to.

9. Anything you want to tell me will stay between us.

and finally...

10. Your heart is safe with me. I'll do all in my power to make you happy.

All I ask in return is that you remember that my heart is tender too.