Things that make my brow furrow

There isn't coffee in my hands.
I wanna watch hours of Gilmore Girls but can't.
There is a fly buzzing around my head, and he isn't small.
I have my third sinus infection of the year. Ghetto
My desire for donuts right this minute.
There isn't coffee in my hands.
Sam (5) can only communicate with passion aka crazy emotions.
My husband is at work.
I have deadlines looming.
I have so many thins to do, I don't know where to begin.
There isn't coffee in my hands.


Things that make me smile?
I hear my big boy helping his brother AND making me coffee. Well played Elijah. Don't tell anyone, but you are totally my favorite.

Five Minute Friday

Don't fight it. Write for five minutes for this Friday's blog link. No editing. No back tracking. Just write. Topic? Opportunity. Ready. Steady. Go.

First of all, I am going to be typing a whole lots more slowly than usual because I may teype quickly, but there are SO many mistakes. Point proven with how I wrote the word "Type".
Opportunity? Oh we all have so many each day, every second. I know I do. I fail to make the most of most of them. I succeed in over thinking most of the ones I jump after. And if I make it that far in the process, I begin to let horrible seeds of doubt take root. Today, I had the opportunity to spend time with my kids as they got out of school early for their last day of school. I opted not to spend as much time with them because I felt my sinus infection creeping in, and I think he is here to stay. Instead, I took the opportunity to take a nap. It so rarely happens around here, and I have been getting up so butt crack of dawn early this week to get my exercise on, I wasn't going to wait to be told twice before seizing this diem.
I saw a license plate on a car that lived next door to my brother. (At least I think that's where I saw it.) It said something like CRPADIEM. I get it. Now. Carpe Diem. Then I thought it said crap a damn.

Five minutes is up.
I think I should apologize. You have to be careful when you step into this mind. It's a scary place sometimes. I am off to snuggle with my movie and tissues. Until we meet again. Crap a damn!

Ode To The Natalie Rose

There's a girl I know
She carries a glow
every day, about her

It's not just a light
It's honest and bright
every day, about her

The patience it takes
new life, high stakes
every day, about her

A season to wait
Trust in God's fate
every day, about her

In honor of my new friend Natalie Rose, in honor of anyone who has been asked to wait an indefinite amount of time while God works everything out in a way that only he can, I dedicate this poem. But mostly to The Natalie Rose.

Waiting is painful. Sometimes it even transfers over to physical pain. I get tense during the day, and I don't even realize it. Then, I go to lay down at night, and instead of melting into my covers and settling into my pillow, I find I can't release the tension. It hurts. I realize I have been clenching my teeth. I realize I have given myself a headache, dull and ever-lingering in the base o my neck. Then I get super frustrated with myself for being such a doubter through my pain.

I am choosing. I am choosing to focus on my list of everything for which I am grateful. Not grateful because I have accomplished them. Things that are amazing because they are true gifts and blessings to me. Things I couldn't have made or picked for myself or done better.

A husband who loves me most.

Five kids when I thought we would have none at one point.

A house that not only holds up a roof to keep me warm but that is super cute.

Coffee around every corner.

Writing. I am so thankful for writing.

Music. It helps me learn. It mellows me. It wakes me up.

It's Thursday. Be thankful. Make a list of what you are thankful for so the waiting isn't quite so rough.

Accountability Is Not For Suckers

The best part about besties is the accountability. I love love LOVE that when I am going through something, or need some motivation, my besties call on me or text me up to see how it's going. Well, I am looking to all of you to hold me accountable. This place is gonna track my progress (and no doubt some set backs), but I'm agonna run.

There, I said it. I put it out there in the blog world that this girl is gonna run.

I have a neighbor who is in the same boat as me: too many donuts, too little veggies, and families that need. But we have both come to a point where we are believing that God wants us to take care of our bodies. This temple will never shine, but dang it, I am going to spruce it to the best of my abilities. So, we are looking at a race in Boise that is sure to give us a fun goal and fancy environment to run our little booties (soon to be little) off. Baby fat, they time has cometh. We have the app, we have the shoes, and we have the chubby middles that must GO! I don't need a bikini body. I need thighs that are silent instead of chiming in every time I sit down on the couch in a skirt.
For those of you with whom this may strike a similar chord, I invite you to join me. Meet back here regularly for weekly training schedules, tips and to-dos along the way, and a few great recipes to replace those well-out-of-your-calorie-range meals.
Did I lose you at "weekly training schedules"? Do not fret, friend. Here are your baby steps for days 1-3; I KNOW you can do this! So does Rob:

Week one (This schedule will run slightly behind my own):

Weekly Goal

Drink your allotted water for each day

•  Drink half your body weight in ounces (ex. 100 lb person drinks 50 ounces of water each day)

Day 1

Take a 30 minute speed walk; don't be wimpy. Move that hiney.

Measure your target areas and record the results

• bicep
• chest
• middle waist
• low waist (pooch and love handles)
• hips
• thigh

Day 2

Put it in writing

• What do you hope to accomplish? What are your goals? What size do you want to be? Why are you doing this? Think on these questions and more, and write down your findings.

30 minute speed walk

10 minute stretch (whole body, but focus on legs especially)

Day 3

30 minute walk

10 minute stretch

Day 4 OFF

Day 5

One hour Dailey Method (or other high intensity workout)

Day 1 of Running App (two miles at a jog/walk combo)

Begin taking vitamin D daily

Day 6 OFF

Well played. This schedule began on Tuesday for me because of our weekend out of town. This gave me Friday and Sunday as my days off. Tweak this to meet your schedule best. Happy following! I would love to hear from any of you about what you are doing to be healthy these days.

Reminisce

Sometimes looking at our past is important. Sometimes it is just out right hilarious. This is the latter. Reminisce with me, won't you? The following story is not a test or piece of fiction. The following story is #111 why we should have our own show. 

as promised, the grocery store

::flasback segment::
Layla Grace-6 monthish
Eli-18months-ish
Isabelle-4 ish
me-the day I turned gray
It's a day like any other. We have errands to run. One including the grocery store. We stroll into Albertson's. Oh so unsuspecting. I have Eli and Layla squeeezed into the front seat normally meant for one. They are rigged, two legs in one hole and a baby blanket wedged to one side. Isabelle is walking. I have my calculator, my list, and we are all set with goodies from the cold drink aisle. I do the usual patrolling. "don't take that off the shelf." "don't lick the cart." stuff like that.

About an hour or more into it we are in the home stretch with only about three aisles to go. I am at the butcher counter getting steaks for dinner. Ah the good wife. ::pat pat pat:: then suddenly out of my apron wearing day dream I notice a cold something or other ::drip drip drop::

what is that?
 :drip: I bend to see milk splattering under my cart.
:drop: quite a bit of it.
"What? How did that happen?" ::drip drop::
"Elijah, what did you do?" and this is where, if he could speak, he would tell me he ate through the carton- right through the plastic.
Good grief. What a mess.
I wiggle closer to the lobster tank where they provide you with free paper towels... for the dive I suppose. As it turns out they are equally handy for almost-two-year-olds.

So I get my steaks and turn around just in time to notice Layla Grace has gnawed herself a little snack. This one is made of a different variety. Same animal- this time it is raw hamburger.
(Yep, you heard me)
Through my disgust and her tears, I manage to dig as much as possible out of her mouth, left wondering how much she actually ate. ew.
I notice a convenient trash can next to me and deposit the remnants of her snack into the can, and just as I do, my hand gets snagged on the lid. It is one of those big metal cans with the teeter tottery lids.

Life is now in slow motion. teeter, totter, teeeeetter, toooooottterrr.
The kids are crying, the butcher woman is agasp, chest heaving, and my eyes are wide as the trash can lid flies up up up into the air.

I am spider man as i look around me, taking it all in.
And then, the display catches my eye. I hadn't noticed you before. I make a mental registry of everything as it all comes crashing to the ground.

No. not paper towels, that would be easy. I see can openers, corkscrews, wire baskets, salt and pepper shakers, thermometers, anything metal a grocery store would carry. Yes, it is all on this very special metal itself, display. It too is on the floor.
You know what always amazes me? How everything gets so quiet when a terribly loud noise happens.)
Isabelle is the first to speak...and I quote "NO WAY THAT JUST HAPPENED!"
I am still too shocked to say anything. Still silence.

The butcher lady comes close and says, "Just go, honey. I will take care of everything."
So I unloaded my children, and we left the grocery store.

And in my best Alex Trebek voice:
"Why don't the Brewer kids go to the grocery store?"

So, if you know of a guy who is looking to take a chance on a new reality TV show families every where will love, send him our way. This is a fairly typical afternoon of nonsense around here.

Snarky Ain't All It's Cracked Up to Be

This is our squirrel. Well, that isn't her actual name, but it has been her label since our older daughter used her lisp to call this little one a crazy girl. It came out more like, "Crazy Squirrel." She was only a year old then. She is seven and still Squirrel.
This face is commonly found on her face. It means many things, and my husband can regularly be found trying to decipher it through loving conversation only a Daddy can deliver. He has grotesque patience. He could out meditate Ghandi. I mean it. Don't even bother with a staring contest.
I do not recollect what these two were talking about when I took this picture (it's easy to get distracted when I see my husband being delicious and a dad- I am human). Squirrel's face could mean any of the following depending on the day:

• This place is a tomb and I want to go to the nut shop where it's fun, or
• This guy has been disciplining me for three minutes too long, and I stopped listening six minutes ago, or
• I will not be appreciated until I am dead; you people don't deserve me, or
• Leaning against this counter isn't hard; I do it all the time, see?

When she was a smirk older than one, she could make you feel inferior. It's not a learned behavior, and I can't quite decide if this could somehow be considered her ministry or just rude.She could make Tony Robbins feel insecure. She is still honing her sarcasm, but the fact that she spent five minutes trying to convince her older siblings that the Indian man at the airport was my father (we are Lebanese), tells me she has real untapped potential. I DO know that I love being this girl's mamma.

Mug Swap

Sometimes you find people randomly in your life, so you KNOW God wanted you to know them. I have recently made a friend on Instagram. I love that app. I love watching my New Zealand friend's pregnant belly grow. I love seeing what my Florida chef friend made for breakfast because it's not eggs with her, it's artwork. I love that I get to share pictures of my kids with my dad even though he is techno-slow. But today I mostly love that my new friend Rachel and I met because God wanted me to know people out there get me.
Since moving here, I have had my doubts that I will ever have a friend. I have an unbelievable group of girls Here, Here, and Here, plus some other girls who don't keep or update their blogs. WHA!? I know. Maybe I don't totally get them. HA.
So, in honor of awesome bloggers, of women, of meeting new friends across the country only to find you look similar, act similar, and make mock of others similarly, I am participating in the Mug Swap. Bonn Bonn is hosting a coffee mug swap that will connect you with a possible kindred spirit- aka someone else who would wound others for coffee if it came down to it. Come on! Take a chance and click

Coffee Is My Manna

OK, so I know that coffee isn't really what sustains me. But, I will tell you what- I SURE LOVE IT.

I understand Lorelai's outstretched arms. That face in return is because Luke (or whoever I am speaking to at the moment) knows I am downplaying how much coffee I have consumed. I use every ounce of will power to stop at one cup of coffee. And, because my will power ounces equal around 6, I usually have my second cup on the way to work. This morning, for instance, I was served one cup in bed, and I followed it up with two more cups at IHOP. I was so tempted to go for cup number four, but I didn't ask for decaf, and I was concerned my heart or my kidneys or my bladder would explode.

Do not worry; I am alright- organs in tact.

This sums up my feelings nicely. My Mother's Day was excellently full of laying in the grass, gardening, breakfast out, coffee in bed, and some of the BEST homemade presents a mamma could ask for. But what I really want about now is a steamy, snuggly cuppa Joe.

Dear Clutter, Get Out

I don't know where it comes from, clutter. My counters are a jungle of papers and hair bands and dishes and other tom foolery. I had a day off because my boy has a cough due to cold. I did a little research and found this lady and her list of how to have a more organized home in four weeks. Yes please. That's an excellent way to kick off the summer if you ask me.

I tackled an entire week of her list in one day. I realize she is going for routine, but since I still have a week of work days left, I figure I should give our house a boost and work on routine later. This counter just looked so pretty I had to photograph her.

Then I scrolled down and realized one of my first chores was to clean out my fridge. SHEESH! I knew this was going to be an event. I do not at all understand what is happening in my refrigerator. Chaos.

I grabbed my baking soda and my old Pampered Chef quick stir pitcher. This pitcher is perfect for cleaning because I can throw in my gallon of water and my 1/4 cup of baking soda and mix it all easily without dirtying up a spoon. I emptied, I scrubbed, I soaked my shelves in the bathtub.

I even grabbed my Pampered Chef stoneware scraper to handle that beastly stuck on foods. Brilliant inventions. I use them to scrape my counters, fold papers properly, and get in the seams of hard to clean areas. I was rewarded with this beauty.

Furthermore, I threw down a challenge to myself to find 50 items to get rid of. Money Saving Mom says seven a day. FlyLady says 27 every week. I went crazy and said 50. I ended up chucking or donating 120 items.
Dear Clutter, Get Out

Pardon Our Dust

I am rearranging, but now I have to go to a meeting. I girl's gotta make some money. Be back soon.

A Chicken Decision

Sometimes My Husband gets an idea in his head to build a little box for a chicken or two.

Then instead he builds a chicken palace big enough for the Capulets and the Montagues and all their servants and all their servants' chickens.

This is one of those times. And, do you know what I have to say about that? SHE'S A BEAUT CLARK!! I love it. Seriously, I want to get my pillow and my blanket and snuggle up in that there castle before the real characters arrive: Stella, Stanley, and Fredword. Hopefully you will see these guys soon. We opted to wait until we return from our graduation trip before we bring those new babies home.

Prayers for Persevering

Persevering. It's almost an offensive word for people who are stuck in the middle of it. This is an excerpt of my prayer journal recently. I was feeling frustrated that we haven't adopted some babes. I really want to adopt some babes. I really think God wants us to adopt some babes. My children are completely offended that we haven't adopted some babes. My husband thinks we already have a lot of children. :/ God's witty comebacks are in parenthesis:
Lord, diligence and I do not move in similar circles, but I know you can change this. (You are practicing diligence).
Thank you, I get caught up. I feel like this adoption road has no end. (I see it.)
Is it good? The road, I mean. Is it happy at the end? (Of course it is. I made it).
Thank you. (Welcome. I love you.)
I love you more (Not possible).
Yeah, you always win at that one. amen

Saddest Rodeo Cowboy in the Circuit

Melancholy Cowboy

That Sam I Am. That Sam I Am. Who doesn't like green eggs and ham? Only people who are too nervous to try it. I do not know what it is about this little boy of mine, but he sure gets the melancholy mumps on a regular basis. He is sad in this picture because I won't let him carry a woman's purse. Poor kid. He doesn't know all I do for his own good. To his future wife- you're welcome.

Our Life In Pictures

Bring It

 So, we are Idahoans now. No, that isn't really a word, and frankly it could be taken the wrong way if you are a girl attempting to over come a reputation. Luckily, I like my saucy reputation. I have worked hard to spread that rumor. OK, I haven't a saucy rep. Sigh. I am just a girl who followed her man to Idaho when he asked her to. ::blush:: He is way worth it. So, we packed up our hooligans and hit the road. We landed in a rental, and we camped for about eight months before we decided to make this place a little more us. It's funny how God answers those little prayers, and then he gives a husband and wife the same ideas without them even really speaking about it. I kinda wanted to garden. My husband said, "hey, when are you going to get a garden going?" sweet. So we started chatting, and did what all laborers do; we went into the backyard and stared at our work space for a while.

The difference between most construction workers and my husband is the staring leads to a new fence, a rock framed garden area, and a tilled ground. Oh how I love that man of mine. We are planting red and yellow onions, sunflowers, potatoes, carrots, zucchini, yellow peppers, green peppers, jalapenos, corn, strawberries, wild flowers, yellow squash, pumpkins, green beans, cantaloupe, watermelons, and a plethora of herbs. And of course, do you know who we ran into at the local Zamzow (it's a garden store; no, I couldn't possibly make up hillbilly names like that)? Baby chicks who want to call me mamma. We are getting two of them. The Man is working at getting his chicken coop skilled under control. The adoption should be final in a few weeks. Of course that only gives us about 14 eggs a week, which is one breakfast for my family, so there is a good chance we will go back for one more little guy once we settle in the first two. I have my names picked out for the twins, but I am opening up the polls for baby chicken number three.

In the meantime, I need to go buy some new work boots; these snow boots just aren't giving me the farm girl look I am after.

Sometimes My Parenting Surprises Even Me

We have friends in town. You know the kind: besties that blur the line between family and friend for so long you forget you aren't REALLY related. They live further away these days, but it isn't their fault. We keep moving north. There is a slight chance we will end up right back where we started as their neighbor if we keep up this crazy pattern. At least we can grab a little Canadian chocolate on our way. Do not fret. We will share. I mean, I won't but I have trained my kids to do as I say and not as I do. I will be in the corner shoveling Coffee Crisps. Sorry for that Canadian tangent. I blame Erin Reed for ever introducing me to that sweet delectable goodness.
Our besties- anyhoo, our spring break was last week, and their spring break is this week. The kids have had to wake early and toddle off to school most of the mornings while their cousins vegged out and went exploring. Last night I got the brilliant idea to let them all stay home, and I even planned to ditch work this morning. This morning, I remembered I am getting six new students today. (To my teacher followers- no. I am not kidding.) Kids can stay home. Crud. Izzy has track. OK. The rest of the kids can stay home. CRAP. Elijah and Layla Grace are touring the middle school on a field trip.
We pull up to the school. Click. Click. Seat belts come out. "Addison, you can stay home honey. You two have fun at your field trip, and I will pick you up early."
"WHAT!! WHY WHA!!! THIS IS SO UNFAIR! OH THE INJUSTICE OF IT ALL!!"
"K. Love you."
Addison sits smugly.

Constant Reminders That He is God and I am Not

Sometimes I get discouraged when I feel God lighting up a path in my life that stays dark for the people around me. I get excited. Thrilled. Anxious. Impatient. Frustrated. Because I am raising my hand, jumping up and down saying, "PICK ME! PICK ME!" But God isn't calling on me to move just yet. Not in the obvious ways anyway. This video made me cry. A lot. But in the end I feel the hope, and I feel encouraged to continue to wait on the Lord for what he will do in the ole Brewer household. I want to serve God. I want to love God. I need to love others.
   

Thanks Farmer's Wife

Why I like Mike #30

He wants to stay married to me after 16 years. There is a really good chance that when we were married 16 years ago yesterday, he thought our lives would be very different than they are now. There are probably even times when he looked at me with really big eyes behind my bag and pretended to strangle me while thinking, "WHAT did I get myself inTO?!!" But more often than all of those times, he has loved me. And he is very good at loving me. He handles my habits and my irritations and not so pleasant qualities. And at the end of the day, he hugs me. I like that about this guy. I like a lot about this guy. I am very excited for another 16 years and then some.
Here's lookin at you kid.
Here's mud in your eye.
Here's to us.
I love you.

Bob Wiley (AKA the smartest man in movie history)

The makers of What About Bob are the creative geniuses of the century. No movie equals the brilliance and comedy that made Bob Wiley the smartest man in movie history. I try to take his advice as regularly as possible. If it has been more than a year since you have watched this movie, remedy this faux pas immediately. The following lines justify why one should watch this movie with regularity:
Bob: I said good morning GILL.

Wing the Bus Driver: Bob, I have a baby schedule to keep, Bob.
Bob: I know that, Wing.

Ziggy: We are going to die. We are ALL going to die.

Faye: Leo?! What about BOB?

Bob: Can I get a bowl or something?! He has been in here all day, and if I don't let him out he is going to scream!

Bob: There are two kinds of people in the world: those who love Neil Diamond, and those who don't. My ex-wife adored him.

Watch it. do it.

Meet Dan

 I have a knew vision of what God is asking of our family. That is not to say the things that have not come to pass are forgotten or cast aside. In fact, the new will only bring our family closer together, and my prayer is that each of my children will remember these coming years forever. Family ministry- I highly recommend it. Whether you have one kid or eleven, find a ministry that glorifies God with your time, money, heart, prayers.

When I was a kid, my mother brought us to food pantries to volunteer, my father took us every year to Child Haven (a home for abused children) to spend time with kids and sing along to his hippy guitar, and our youth leaders scheduled monthly outreaches so we were constantly giving giving giving. I thought that's how all Christians lived.

I am shocked with the complacency that has crept into our culture. "I am just so busy." With what? Honoring God? Raising kids? My answer to these questions is always no. Not that I am dishonoring God intentionally, but if I am not living FOR God with intention, I am choosing that other guy, and well. He is an idiot.

So, I have to ask, are you following God or are you in the idiot parade. If you aren't sure, JUMP to the right, cause chances are you aren't quite where God wants you.
This guy, Dan, on the other hand. I want to be him when I grow up. (And the way my mustache is changing with age, I may ACTUALLY BE this man when I grow up.)

http://www.wimp.com/gooddan/