We came home from the park on Tuesday to find two guinea hogs chillin' in the driveway waiting for us. Cute, but um...not where they are supposed to be. I thought I was going to cry. I just wanted to go inside and finish painting gold dots in the girls' room and listen to my book while the kids played house. Instead, I channeled all the strength of my pioneer ancestors and went searching for the post puller and driver. Damn it if I didn't build a DIY fence stretcher, string a straight fence line, and set those posts by myself. Don't get me wrong...I am living the dream. Raising our family on acreage with lots of animals and plans for a big garden. Our home orchard is even under way. We have gotten so much done as fast as we can in the last four months. It is just so much back breaking, never-ending work. Why couldn't my dream have been a white, minamalist, two bedroom condo on the beach? In my dreams I simply glazed over the necessaries of fencing and vet bills. By late Tuesday afternoon when I called Husband to bring me Subway, like now, I also informed him that I was moving back to my almost finished house in the golf course community. He could shoot the stupid deer who ate my broccoli. Stupid, stupid disease-carrying, garden pillaging nuisances. Bambi and his buddies are further down the crap list than even the well pump, which seems to be behaving itself for the moment. Thank you for that because Mommy's time-out is a hot shower- drought or no drought.

I keep reminding myself that I was in a similar slump four years ago. I found out I was pregnant the first month after moving into our last house. For all my planning, things still moved in slow-motion for about two years. Maybe it's a blessing. I don't make the wisest pregnancy paint choices. Remember my yellow kitchen and the "cheap South American hotel" color scheme? I can't find a picture of it right now, but honest. Picture a cheap South American hotel minus the paper mache Jesus on the wall and you'd have my house back then. So, I keep reminding myself...Patience. It's a virtue. One I lack. Like it or not, I am being forced into working on it.

Just so you know, eventually things came together. When we listed our house it no longer looked so South of the Border. These are the pictures from our listing. They make me miss my old house, but also help remind me that it took me years of back breaking, never ending work to get there and that was a much smaller house and yard to work with. This was staged for the listing. I know because it was hard to move out my beloved green piano, all our family pictures, and my even more beloved cow-hide rug.

Her Majesty Turns 6

After her breakfast of donuts and pink milk (which she promptly switched out for chocolate milk because she likes the color of pink milk, but not the taste) Scrunch announced, "Well, you can call me 'Your Majesty' since it's my birthday. I agreed but only after noting that maybe she should call me the same every other day. I still haven't gotten a straight answer as to whether or not it will happen.

At first, I wasn't sure it was such a good idea, but we went with it after seeing her reaction to singing 'Happy Birthday' to 'Her Majesty'. She laughed and laughed and laughed. Scrunch can be an intense kid and is not always so easily amused so it was worth her reaction. I think she might have been better behaved than usual because Her Royal Highness felt the obligation to set the example for her subjects. She was so excited that all of Primary would sing to her ON the actual day of her birthday.

She seemed to love her birthday this year. As the first one up she got to spend a little more time just with Mom and Dad which she usually forfeits by being my latest sleeper. She carefully reviewed each of her presents before opening them. Her gift wrapping is one of her favorite parts and it has now become a tradition to see how they are wrapped. The glittered 'after Christmas sale' ornament bows seemed to cut it this year. I was so proud of her when she said 'Thank you' after opening each present without being prompted. We put off a 'friends' party for another year and I was worried she might regret it when we went to a birthday party on Saturday, but she didn't even mention it. You just really never know with her.

The last several weeks have been filled with some intense conversations about her adoption as she processes what it means. There have been tears when talking about her Birthmom and lots of questions. I read some really great articles from qualified professionals that used the metaphor that processing your own adoption is like climbing a mountain every adopted child has to climb. Depending on their personality it may affect how they approach it and at what point, but they all have to do it. Some choose to go around it, others ignore it's there, others a little bit at a time, and others up and over. True to her personality Miss Scrunch seemed to take it on and not stop till she had conquered it.

These questions and all the talk of adoption kind of came out of nowhere. We've always been open and just treated it as a fact. "All babies grow in tummies. Not all of Mommy's babies grew in Mommy's tummy." Things like that. At one point she commented that she had been for sale. Turns out she heard somewhere how adoption is expensive and because she knows that her Birthmom 'chose us' she interpreted it to mean she had been for sale. She took a few opportunities to push the limits and made some comments about not really being "part of this family". I was so grateful to be able to tell her about the temple and her sealing to us and for her to be at an age where she could understand a little bit more about what that means. We finally figured out that all of this wasn't really about her Birthmom, but about her. She is still 6 so in her mind the world still revolves around her.

My pregnancy opened up some questions for her as to where she fit in. I knew we'd address the fact that other children were biological at some point, but I didn't think it would be kindergarten. I was thinking more along the lines of 13. But that is Scrunch. One morning I told her she was my favorite Scrunch and would always be. She asked me if she would always be the oldest in our family and I told her that she would always be my first baby. We talked a little about the night she was born and that was it. She seems to be cool with it and hasn't mentioned it since. On her birthday I told her that we loved her and hope she knew how much we loved her. "I know Mom. And I know C loves me too." She looked at me waiting for my response. "Tha'ts right. We all love you very much." She smiled and that was it.

Her birthday is the one time we make contact with her Birthmom. I had given her the option over the last couple of weeks to draw a picture or write a letter to her but she wasn't interested. I sat down last night to write her my yearly email and debated whether or not to tell Scrunch. When she came in to ask what I was doing I told her and asked if there was anything she would like me to tell her. I was a little bit nervous as to what she would say and whether or not I was prepared to fulfill my promise to relay the message. "Tell her I wish I could drive and that I got a bean bag for my birthday. Also that I am going to see Frozen again in the movie theater." You got it. Your wish is my command. Happy Birthday Your Majesty!

I just figured out how to post multiple pics in a post from my phone.

Taking pics of Scrunch during tumbling is joke. She's too wiggly and I'm too slow.

Let's see if I can figure this phone blogging out.

I look at this picture and think, "Holy Crap! My three year old is huge. And has very big feet."

Stream of Conciousness

I am going to blog more. No really, I swear. I really am. Right after I figure out if I want to write about the books I've read, the books I want to read. The projects I've gotten done. The ones I haven't. That I finally cleaned my craft room! Oh my gosh, I have a craft room! My kids. Oh, my kids. My goat kids? My favorite goat is having "at least" twins! I thought I was going to cry during her ultrasound. I was offended on her behalf when the vet commented that she didn't have the "cleanest looking uterus in the world". What does that even mean? We'll start a club Sparkles and I.  I learned to draw labs on a goat. I've been a nurse for ten years this year and I have done more venipuncture on caprines. Weird, huh? I think I'm going to puke. Why do I still want to puke? I am starting to feel better, but not awesome. After waiting, and waiting, and waiting we finally heard a heartbeat. My midwife was prepared to stand there until the baby grew big enough to hear for sure. Everyone was relieved. I didn't realize how stressed and anxious I was. I like visiting my midwives mostly for the book recommendations. Are audio books the same as the "reading"? I actually "read" (not listened) to two Jane Austen books. Audio books let me spin, do the dishes, clean the bathroom, and fold the laundry while being entertained. Listened to Anne of Green Gables with the kids. Oh so good! Stitches is only a couple of weeks away! So is Juju's birthday and Scrunch's birthday is next Sunday. I managed to put off a "friend" birthday party for another year. She just wants to go to the movie theater again. They won't stop singing the soundtrack to Frozen. Thanks a lot Aunt Goose and Aunt Miq! Come back Aunt Goose and Aunt Miq! Come back Grandma and Grandpa! We've had out of town visitors every week since Christmas and it's the only motivation I've had to clean my house. Tomorrow I am going to clean my bathroom. No really, I swear. I really am. I might blog again, too. Maybe.