May I never forget. A list worth your read.

 6 years ago I put this sign up on top of the door leading from my classroom to the rest of the world.  It wasn't just for students.  I was well aware of the vast miles and miles I would have to traverse before I made my final steps out of that door.  Let me say, it is more than difficult to leave such an investment of myself and my time.  Actually, I've been freaking out all day... like I just lived through a war and I've been endeared to it somehow, not knowing how to function with civilians again.

But function I must.  And with half our income.  Still, those hugs waiting for me at home verify the right choice to bow out of the battle for a spell.

Notice, please, that one of them is in pajamas after 1pm and the other has no pants.  

Yes, my children do need their mother.

 May I never forget:

•  The bottle of warm urine found in the middle of my room.  I still wonder at how it appeared moments after I stood in that very spot, a quiet enraptured (or so I thought) class of 15-year-olds all within my gaze.
• The new "use" of clickers to record sexual stamina under the tables.
• The moment I realized that was NOT a photo of an innocent handle I had given everyone.
• The essay using Noah's flood to disprove global warming.
• The girl who asked me why I had gotten plastic surgery if it was going to make me look older.
• Urinary incontinence post child birth with no time for bathroom breaks.
• A parent asking me how much pornography on his kid's phone was too much before he should worry.
• The kid who wrote an essay about his dad taking him to a strip club when I asked him to write about some place of safety in his life.
• All the teen age boys who cried (way more than the girls).
• Catching several of my students looking flushed and sweaty in the school dark room.
• The guest sniper's slide show of inappropriate photographs of Iraqi's he had shot.

Perhaps these are the memories I should recall when I second guess my departure from public education.  Oh, and there really are SOO many more. Some much too horrible to document in print.

I will miss it though.  Deeply.  Perhaps deeply enough to go back to war someday.
We shall see.
We shall see.

 Me:   Why are you calling Grandma Cindy MOM?  I'm your mom.  Call me mom. (hurt feelings)

Annie:  No.  Megan calls her MOM.  You call her MOM.  I will call her MOM.  You're Nicole.

Me:  Please call me MOM. I am your mom.

Annie:  Then why does QUINN call you NICOLE?  QUINN says NICOLE.  You're NICOLE

Me:  -------
(drawing a blank here.  no response possible for such a logical train of thougt from a 2.5-year-old)

 Annie:    Mom, catch me a lady bug.  I want to hold it in my hands and let it crawl so it will tickle me.

Me:    O.K.  (look outside forever.  give up.  come in.  Hours later, Annie goes outside)

Annie:   Mom, look, I found a ladybug.  (holds up her hands.  nothing.  it's pretend).

Me:   Oh really?

Annie:   His name is Croose. 

Me:    Croose?

Annie:  Yes, Croose.  His name was going to be ANNIE but then we would have TWO Annie's, so his name has to be Croose.

 She won't crawl.  She scoots places on her bum, sucks her thumb all day, and holds soft things when she needs soothing.  She is a dream.  Super chubby.  So happy.  She will eat Mac & Cheese all day long but nothing else and cries when it is all gone.  She as 4 teeth:  2 on top and 2 on bottom.  She says TA TOO TA TOO and MA MA and DADDY.  Her eyes are deep dark brown and her whole face lights up when she smiles.  She can wave, shake her head NO when she doesn't want something, and clap.  Her hugs are tight.  She wants to be with Annie always.  Loves stroller rides (unlike number 1), and her cheeks get red when she has dairy.  She is my heart and I am her favorite and we are best friends already.

 Annie and V:

or I could just take care of things now

 DRUM ROLE PLEASE...

at exactly 10:57 tonight, APRIL 15th, I completed our taxes YET AGAIN.

AND I WAS 1099'd!!!!!!, had to figure out a 982, and am still panicking over a 1099-S I'm not sure should have gone somewhere other than where I put it.

IS THERE NO END TO MY MANY SKILLS AND ABILITIES?!

...No, really.

I feel a strong need for more appreciation over here.  I'm handling way too much I think.  Too much.  I need to hear something like, 

"Your interpretation of Maslow's Self-Actualization in his Hierarchy of needs 

as it relates to personal and private spirituality is spot on Nicole."

-or-

"Wow, I didn't realize that when I had all my babies on welfare, you had to go to work and leave your babies behind so you could pay your medical $$$ bills.  I think I'll go off welfare now."

So that's not going to happen.  Instead, how about that VIOLET? 

Isn't she the bees' knees?

Yep- I'm going to need a bit more uplifting etc.  Valentines might work"

 In my line of profession, I'm just not going to receive a significant amount of validation. 
Chubby Baby helps.
Mother's Day might too.
...or I could just take care of things now:

"Holy smokes Nicole- I didn't know you could read TAX CODE 

and come out on the other end of it alive!"

-and-

"Seriously? Have the 6-year-olds dance AROUND cowboys hats?!  GENUIS!"

READ why we will NOT be going back to the park.

There is progress on the back yard... and even more exciting:  a timeline!

The date for the first blade of grass to break through our dirt in one triumphant song of jubilee will be my birthday, APRIL 22nd, 2013, mark our words come rain or shine! It's a mountain of work but Q and I can't stop salivating over the thought of a finished back yard and the lifestyle it will afford our girls.

The last months have found Q outside before and after work with the spotlights on so he can see the yard.  There has been an excessive amount of digging.  We even went to the extent of buying HAY and plastic to cover the cement so we could pour even when the weather was below freezing.  We are determined.  I often wish I could do more to help Q than just bring home the bacon to fund it.  The girls and I watch from the window and spur him on with hope in our hearts.  At least I see those middle school dollars put to good use before my eyes.  On the 12th, we couldn't watch anymore.  I suited them both up and we went outside to cheer about the cement up close.

Someone asked me how many batches of cement we had mixed up.  Batches?  You mean how many truck loads have we poured?  Suffice it to say that I may have spent my entire salary last year on cement.  In fact, Annie affectionately refers to all sidewalk as "cement" and will chide anyone who calls it otherwise.  We love our cement here at the House of Had.

 Much dismay and several stern words passed between us before settling on a distance between the wall and the track that will run around our back yard.  Why does every little decision have to be so intense?  Well, don't tell him, but Q was right to cut down those five trees in the back corner.  I shed a tear but in hindsight, he was right.

 It is refreshing to address some of the areas in our yard that have been neglected on the priority list. 

We have cleaned up the garden area and our concrete boxes look amazing now.  Hopefully we've learned a thing or two before we form up the concrete couches planned for our courtyard. I cannot wait to taste that first tomato!

Remember a few weeks back when we set up the auto for an impromptu family picture?  It took us a few tries but we managed 1 or 2 keepers from this bunch.  Those of us who are in St. George promise to not take for granted our sunshine and short sleeves in January!

Do you catch yourself praying that your girls will be best friends forever too?

 Our chubby baby V is so different from Annie.

Thank heavens she likes the stroller, actually sleeps, and cuddles.

Oh Annie.  Today V ate a leaf.  It could have been worse.  When we were at the park, a boy pulled down his pants and pooped under the slide.  We will not be going back to the park.  Yard please.

Two Sundays ago I put Annie in one of my dresses. 30 years later and look how cute!  She loved the lace ruffles and called it her Valentines clogging dress.  Her nursery teachers said she did not stop clogging during class.  Annie can name a lot of the steps too.  She's got a shuffle, brush, and rock step down pat.

 She is certainly a free spirit. So aware.  I caught her telling someone only Dad can say "dam-it" but mom does sometimes too.

 I can not imagine days without holding her hand or hugging her.

 It may be a result of my occupations.  As a clogging/tap and middle school teacher I am so used to noise that I realized this week I always have something on at home like the radio or T.V.  Even when I don't plan to watch, I find myself turning on the news for background noise.  Today I tried to leave everything off and was annoyed at how difficult it was.  I don't want MY kids suffering from my background noise addiction.  HELP! 

 ...and THAT, my friends, is our January 2013.  Mostly.  There was a trip to SLC and DELTA but it was such a blur of lifting the 80 lb car seat in and out in the cold that I may have blocked most of it from memory.  Most of it.  Annie is another story.  She can recount every single detail of Brian's tuba concert like it was this morning.