The Taming of the Yard

Ah, the yard-working month of May. The month that tells you what you are REALLY made of. The showdown between hard-working woman vs. Utah cement-hard "soil."

So, who won the battle?









Probably just because of my giant rock-hard muscles. Yep, pretty sure.

My Little Fashionista

My little Ashley has gone through EVERY clothes phase there is: pajamas all day, no clothes at all, as many clothes as possible at the same time, wearing only Carter's clothes, changing outfits 20 times a day, wearing one outfit for one week straight, etc. etc.

The fact is, she loves clothes. She is OBSESSED with clothes. I finally gave in to her desire for personal expression so that I pretty much let her wear whatever she wants as long as it is weather appropriate. I do make exceptions for church, and other formal occasions. Which pretty much means I compromise so only 20% of her outfit is completely absurd.

She revealed to me last week that the 2 most important items in a 3-year-old's wardrobe are tights and a slip. The rest of the outfit is completely negotiable.

Here is her FAVORITE combination: red snowman tights, brown leggings with lace trim, and the lacey slip on OVER the shirt. Don't forget the pink high-heel dress up shoes. I took this just as we were leaving for our Neerings family dinner on Sunday.


Isn't she cute??

Friday's Favorites - Life's Passion

Today marked the beginning of the "how the heck did I get this old and boring?" part of my life.

I went to the state PTA Convention.

All day.

Blech.

There were a couple of bright spots, but I have to admit after spending the entire morning inside, listening to speakers and perusing materials, my body started twitching and I experienced temporary ADD.

So, the plan was to eat our cute little box lunch, then chat, peruse, and sit inside for 45 minutes until the next round of classes began.

Blech.

So I made my own plan. Since it was a beautiful day, and I happened to be on the campus of my Alma Mater, BYU, I decided to take a walk. I set out on my own little adventure. It felt soo good to be outside, soo good to move, and soo good to be someplace familiar. I felt unusually carefree.

And then something unexpected happened.

I passed the music building.


My heart started to race.


My fingers tingled and flexed.


My eyes darted toward the entrance.

But I resisted the thoughts and I made my way around the library, convincing myself that there was absolutely no reason for me to be in that building.

I passed the building a second time. Why could I not take my eyes off it? And then, before I was even aware, the building drew me in. I became keenly aware of myself walking, feeling purpose in each motion, feeling life in each breath. I took in the familiar sights and sounds of the atrium as I let my legs take me wherever they wanted to go.

And I was a little surprised.

I ended up in a tiny practice room. One of the very same ones in which I had spend hundreds of hours playing the piano for my music studies. I remembered this particular piano, a cherry colored Kawai grand with a resonant, but dull-ish sound. Still wearing my PTA badge, I sat down.

And I played.

I made my way roughly through a Gershwin prelude. Why were my hands shaking?

Then I settled more easily into one of my favorite pieces, "Mouvement" by Debussy.

I knew I only had a few minutes of bliss until I had to get back into the real world. I savored the feeling of alive-ness, of embracing something that you know belongs to you. Something you know is such a part of you that it can only be called your passion.

My time was up. I stood up, and readjusted my badge in the mirror. Picking up the purple PTA bag, I left my vibrant little world of music and headed back to the real world.

But I took something with me as I left. No, I think I awakened something within me. Something that had spent too much time buried underneath housecleaning, scheduling, and care-taking. So much time that I had forgotten it was there.

And I remembered what it really feels like to be alive.

Music Recovery Program

Over the last 10 days, I've had 10 rehearsals and 5 performances, with 3 different music groups. Every May and December, this seems to happen - two weeks of a packed musical schedule. Last December it culminated with me wearing the wrong dress to my concert with the Salt Lake Choral Artists. I didn't realize until I got on stage at Libby Gardner Hall - oops. It was the dress from my New Jersey choir, so that just shows you how fried my brain gets after too much music - aaaahh!!

It all ends up being worth it. Without fail, there will be such a beautiful moment in the music where the intensity of emotion is so powerful that it takes you to a place you never could have created on your own. That happened last weekend while singing "Enemy Slayer," a Navajo Oratorio that was SUPER hard to learn. That's when I remember why I am doing all of this.


You can read our review here: http://www.deseretnews.com/article/705301115/Enemy-Slayer-musically-stunning.html

There are also no-so-good moments, like last Tuesday night. Carter's school choir was singing at Abravanel Hall, and I am their accompanist. Sounds great, right? Well, we were the first choir, and Carter did awesome. But then we had to sit with all of the kids while TEN more elementary choirs sang for more than 2 hours. Ugh.

It was also crazy to be gone every night for 2 weeks straight until 10 or 11. Double Ugh.

So now I am on the Music Recovery Program. This morning's installment of the program included shamefully putting a video on for Ashley so I could go back to sleep from 9:00 to 11:00 am. Yep, pretty much pathetic, I know.

So, when's the next concert . . . . ?

Mother's Day

I have to admit - I have my qualms about Mother's Day. If the tradition demanded that all Mother's be whisked away into a magical place that included a massage, unlimited nap time, and amazing food, I might feel differently. But, truth be told, Mom's don't really take a "day off" for Mother's day, which increases the likelihood that many things can go wrong, which you have absolutely no control over. This includes, but is not limited to: children fighting and throwing tantrums, children wiping boogers on you, sick children puking on you, children pretending that their legs are inoperable so they don't have to help you, husbands pretending that their brains are inoperable so they don't have to help you, etc.

But, this year my fam really pulled through. Mike got me the perfect funny card with a long, thoughtful note inside. Carter showered me with pictures, cards, and original writings, including "I love you mom becuse your nice. I could never love eney one beter than you."

Carter also made my heart melt by taking care of me while Mike was out of town last week. Each night as he got in bed, he would verify my well-being. These were my favorites: "Mom, do you need to go outside any more tonight? No? Good, because it is really cold and dark out there right now and I really don't want you outside in that." Or, "Mom, have you checked all the doors to make sure they are all locked? I would feel better about you in a locked house." Or, "Did you close your window Mom? I really don't feel good about you sleeping with an open window?" How cute is that???!

And finally, my personal favorite. Carter made the obligatory "Mom coupons" at school, good for any act of service from him. He only made 5 coupons at school, but he felt that I deserved much more than that, so he put our color copier to good use.



Now, it's time to cash in . . . sweet!!!

Friday's Favorites - NAPS!!!!

Alright, it's true confession time:

I'm addicted to sleep.

Or is it that I'm allergic to waking up? I'm not sure which.

Yesterday AND last Friday I was able to catch a quickie nap, and I remembered that naps are literally the most wonderful activity available on the planet! Actually, do they count as an activity? Not sure. As delicious as naps are, I have to admit that Sleep and I have had a rocky relationship over the years . . .

I tend to put off sleep in the pm hours. In other words, I am a full-blooded night person. So here is the basic schedule of my entire life: Stay up until midnight or 1:00, sleep blissfully until an alarm clock or small person wakes me around 7:00 am, walk around with eyes closed or lay down yelling at small people until 9:00 am, get REALLY tired around 2:00 pm and function at the capacity of a slug, get my new "night energy" around 9:00 pm, and repeat the cycle ceaselessly causing me and my family immense stress. Doesn't that sound pleasant?

As you may imagine, this has caused a few slight problems. Let me name a few:

Sleeping through all of my morning classes in high school and college. Drool and all. I even fell asleep taking a test once.

Sleeping in and missing half of Carter's preschool program, then entering late by falling down the stairs in front of the entire audience. Nice.

Waking up to the smell of Carter cooking prescription medications in the toaster oven.

Unfortunately there are many, many more examples. But, I digress. Sleep and I became reconciled when I realized that it was NOT lazy of me to realize that I needed it. I finally had to admit to myself that when I do not get 9 (gulp, yes nine) hours of sleep, I will feel some degree of I-resent-being-awake-ishness. Do I get 9 hours of sleep all the time? Of course not. But, I do get to bed earlier now, and let myself sleep in or take those luscious naps more often.

And here is a picture of my cute hubby taking a nap. I tried to take a picture of myself taking a nap, but every time I flashed the camera, I woke myself up. :)



Doesn't that make you want to take a nap, too? I'm hereby giving you permission.

And . . . (ahem) . . . please disregard the time on this blog post.

The Phone Call

Me: Hello?

Phone: Hello, is this Mrs. Neerings?

Me: Yes (wow, who says "Mrs." anymore).

Phone: This is Mr. Flanagan (real name) from the Elementary School.

Me: Hi, Mr. Flanagan. (Hmm, the V. Principal calling. I wonder if anything is wrong? Nah, he's probably just calling about PTA stuff).

Phone: So, I have your son down here in my office.

Me: Uh-oh (Oh, crap! What has happened? Did Carter get in a fight or something?????).

Phone: It's pretty serious.

Me. UUUHH-OOHHHH (AAAHH! Did he give someone a black eye? Say the F word? Did he bring a gun to school??? Is he expelled?? )

Phone: Yeah, we have Carter down here to recognize him for being the best behaved kid in his class. His teacher chose him.

Me (catching my breath to recover from the previous visions of my juvenile delinquent son): Wow! (And to tell me thanks, you decided to give me early-onset heart failure!!!! Gee. thanks.)

Phone: Well, thanks for your time.

Me: Uh. . . . thanks for . . . . ???

Friday's Favorites - He's my guy!

Happy Friday!! The last week or so has been filled with a little TOO much adventure, leaving me feeling a little buried and overwhelmed. Blah. I do not enjoy times like that.

So, it is with happiness that I say, "Hellllllooooo Friday!!!!!!" Sure, I've got another weekend with way too much packed in to actually enjoy any of it, but hey - I can have my moment, right?

Today's Friday's Favorites post is inspired by my previous Friday's event - the anniversary of 9 years married to "my guy." A little 3-year-old-blonde-haired girl in our household claims that he is HER guy, but I have news for you, honey . . .

HE'S TAKEN.

Here is a picture of him looking ruggedly handsome, as usual.


And I couldn't be happier. Here are some of the things I love about my hubby & best friend:

He's brave.
He puts first things first.
He's amazingly creative.
He does things because he feels good about it, not because of what anyone thinks.
Everything he does, he does very well.
He is completely trustworthy.
He is very handsome.
He knows how to have fun.
He never has fun at the expense of others.
He takes all of his responsibilities to heart.
He wrestles with the kids every day, even when he doesn't have an ounce of energy left.
He always feels a little sheepish when he beats someone at something.
He is not afraid of doing the right thing.
He can design & build anything.
He knows exactly how to make me feel loved.
He took me bowling for our anniversary - sweet!
He knows how to work hard.
He knows how to play hard.
He knows how to laugh hard.
He knows when I need to have a little more fun in my life.
He knows how to put a smile on my face.

I've concluded that a good man is hard to find these days, and so I feel like the luckiest girl on earth.

I love you Mike.


P.S. Please, please come home from your brave, fun, rugged bear hunt in Idaho safely tomorrow. I want to do something even more fun than bowling for our tenth.

Weekend Recap

Just a few highlights from last weekend. A sampler of sorts. :)

Friday: Carter and Grandma Neerings enjoy a special V.I.P. day at his school. Grandma even got to eat school lunch - yum!



Early Saturday: Mike goes to Home Depot and purchashes several sharp objects that I'm sure will cause his demise. He uses them like this and claims they are tools:



Later Saturday: Mike completely de-limbs this approximately 40 foot pine tree in 90 minutes flat. Can you spy him here?



Here is the tree after the said 90-minute "trim."



Carter has his first "privelige" of using the clippers to help dad cut up limbs. "Privelige" is a special word used for tricking kids into things they wouldn't normally do.



Saturday and Sunday: The kids get to hang out in their special "Reverence Tent" for watching General Conference on TV. This is also a secret way of tricking our kids into thinking that can be reverent AND have fun at the same time. Heh, heh.



And finally, a cameo appearance from Monday: Carter's face gets introduced to the pavement for the first time. OUCH!



P.S. - It had nothing to do with tree limbs or sharp objects from Home Depot. :)

Have you hugged your dishwasher today?

Well, it's Friday. As usual, I really need somthing to celebrate to help me ring in the weekend after a looooong week. So, what could be better than spending a moment recognizing the most fabulous thing in my house:

My *dishwasher* (insert romantic sigh).

Now I am one of those people who can say I REALLY appreciate my dishwasher. Sure, we had a couple of apartments during our early married years that didn't have a dishwasher. But we were child-less and so in love that first of all, we hardly had any dishes, and second of all, washing dishes together seemed like a romantic getaway (pathetic, I know).

So, when we bought this house almost 2 years ago, and it didn't have a dishwasher, these were my thoughts:

"No dishwasher . . . Hmmm. Are you kidding me? I'm just so glad we have a house!!! An actual house with a yard and walls and 2 levels. Who needs a dishwasher? The pioneers didn't even have running water. Dishwashers have only been around for a few years. My in-laws STILL don't have a dishwasher, and they get along perfectly fine washing all their dishes. In fact, I think I will be BETTER off without a dishwasher. Maybe dishwashers are only for the weak of spirit. Dishpan hands are considered a sign of character. Take THAT, dishwashers of the world!!!"

Yeah, that lasted about 2 weeks.

When my husband finally got tired of listening to my whining about how I spent a precious one hour of each day washing dishes for a family of 4, who cook and eat EVERY meal at home, and blaming EVERYTHING wrong in my life on not having a dang dishwasher, he came up with these amazing words:

"Babe, I can put a dishwasher in for you . . . . "

What? Give up my spartan hand-washing spirit???

Okay!

We had $500 bucks to work with, thanks to my sweet Grandma Litster and parents who generously gave us that money when she passed away. So we found the dishwasher, and a sink/faucet online, each for $50 bucks, and then Mike set in to work. He demolished the entire kitchen, rebuilt the entire lower cabinet, installed the countertop, dishwasher, and sink, and viola! - my life was wonderful again!!!!!!



Anytime I'm feeling sorry for myself, I look at my dishwasher and think, "My life is perfect. Sigh."

And if you don't have a dishwasher yet, be glad for clean running water and indoor plumbing.

Seriously.

Friday's Favorites - 2 days late . . .

So, I'm already late on my second installment of Friday's Favorites. Eeeeek!! Remember how I said that if I didn't post on a Friday, I was probably having a bad day? Yeah, well I had the stomach flu. Blech.

However, despite the puking, Friday was a GLORIOUS day. Why? One word: S.P.R.I.N.G.

Friday was the first day of Spring, and I LOVE Spring. Here's a list of the reasons why:

The weather gets warmer.
It's no longer cold.
The temperature rises.
The snow melts.
The air feels balmy.
Winter is over.
When you go outside, you are not freezing.

Yep, that pretty much sums it up. Sure, the flowers, green-ing grass, Easter and all that stuff are nice. But pretty much it boils down to: I. Hate. Cold.

Guess that makes Spring pretty much awesome in my book. Even on a throwing-up day.

Happy St. Patty's!!

To celebrate St. Patrick's Day this year, I wanted to share with all of you a picture of our family in our Irish garb. I mean, do we look festive or what?



Fake story about this picture:
I am very organized and on the ball. So organized and on the ball, in fact, that I always schedule a professional family picture for each holiday (including President's day and Arbor Day) in color coordinated outfits. I always schedule these photo shoots far enough in advance that I can use the pictures to their full potential in relation to the holiday. I also have hundreds of scrapbooks containing these calendar-correct photos.

True story about this picture:
This is the ONLY family picture we have had taken since Ashley was born. And although I enjoy an occasional splash of green now and then, I am not quite as exuberant about the color it as the picture may communicate. My parents and siblings were having a large family picture taken, and we thought each family could wear a different solid color, so that in the group picture it would be easy to distinguish who was who (yes, our family really is that big). So, a few months before, I settled on brown and cleared it with my sisters/Mom. Unfortunately, someone else had ALSO selected brown and cleared it with my sisters/Mom. Dang.

So, about a month before the picture, I decided we could do a nice earthy/sagey green color, and went to the mall to get some shirts. And then another mall. And then another. And then I realized that they don't make solid color "sage-y" shirts for 2 year old girs. So I went to more malls to find ANY shade of green shirt for a tiny girl. And then I came home shouted at my unsuspecting husband. And then I took anything that was any shade of green and removed it from my house so that I would never see green again. And then I spent $32 on a bright kelly green tank top from baby GAP for my daughter. $32 was more than I spent on her entire wardrobe last summer (thanks to great yard sales and cute hand-me-downs from cousins).

And then I went to another mall. And another mall. And another mall. I found shirts for the rest of us in the same color, and tried to look on the bright side:

We would all have REALLY great clothes for St. Patrick's Day this year.

Happy green day!!!!!!!!

Introducing . . . . Friday's Favorites!!!

Drum roll please.

You are all about to encounter something that will change your life.

I am introducing a regularly scheduled blog topic to NeerlyFabulous. Friday's Favorites. Every Friday that I am mentally sound, I will post about one of my favorite things, people, places, foods, (etc.), and tell you how absolutely wonderful it is. Why, you might ask? Because FRIDAYS ARE AWESOME!!! This is my little way to say to Friday, "I have waited long for you, and now I want to embrace you and tell you something fabulous. "

And if I don't post on a Friday, please call me and cheer me up. I'm probably having a bad day.

Now, I have thought long and hard about what the first Friday's Favorites topic should be. There were several considerations, including family members, footwear, and of course products made with dark chocolate. Don't worry, all those topics will be forthcoming.

But this week I had to choose something REALLY special.

Are you ready????







SUPER GLUE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




And now I will write an original poetic piece: Ode to Super Glue

Oh, Super Glue, how faithful you have been
In the time we have spent together.
For many years now, you have been right by my side,
Picking up the broken pieces of my life and
Mending them seamlessly.

You have worked many miracles.
Angry children have been calmed.
Wardrobes have been rescued.
Even the blind have received sight.






So many doubt your strength and power.
So many wonder if you can really fix their lives
As you have fixed mine.
To them I say: doubt not.
Those who doubt the strength of Super Glue have ways of being punished.

There have been times that I resented your bonding power.
It seemed you were mocking me, wielding your strength in places I did not intend for it to fall.
But the wooden nativity star eventually came off of my thumb.
And I realized it was for my own good.

For I would never doubt your strength again.

Oh, Super Glue. You amaze me.

Good Thing for Dad (or my kids would never have fun)

On Tuesday nights I go to rehearsals for the choir I sing with (The Salt Lake Choral Artists). Lucky for me, Mike sees it as his "special" night with the kids.

So, on this last Tuesday, I get home a little after 10, and I hear a little rustling downstairs. Great, Mike is still up!! We can hang out for a minute.

But then my logical brain kicks in. Wait, Mike is NOT up. Mike is not a night person. Mike is asleep in his cozy bed. Mike has probably been asleep in his cozy bed for quite some time.

Then I see a head peek up the stairs. Then another.

I DO love my kids.

But not after 9:00 pm.

So, I head downstairs to see the giant tent that dad has set up so they could "sleep" (ha!) in it. And, then, they were so cute that who could be mad after that.

Except when they each needed to go potty.

And then they needed drinks.

And then they needed the CD player with their special music playing.

And then, Ashley says, "I wan't to sleep in my bed."

Carter: "Me, too."

Mom: "Fine." (grumble grumble)

Dad: Zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Project Organize

You gotta love IKEA. Carter was in need of a serious organization overhaul for all of his art & writing supplies. And believe me, he needs all the help he can get when it comes to keeping things neat. So, for $10 at IKEA, we put up this great organizing system that keeps all of his stuff handy above his desk, out of the reach of smaller kids, and easy to put away.



And lest you think that I have the organizing thing figured out, here is the rest of his room.

On a good day.



Sigh. I have my work cut out for me.

March Madness

Oh, how I loathe Daylight Savings Time.

As if March isn't bad enough already. This wretched month that comes after 12 weeks of cold, miserable Winter, and teases us with the word "Spring." And just when you think it might actually BE spring someday. Bam. Another snowstorm. March disgusts me.

And THEN, they throw "Daylight Savings Time" in there. Oh sure, give it a catchy, uplifting name and maybe you can trick the entire United States of America (minus Arizona - the only SANE ones out there) into thinking that it would be a good idea.

I especially love how DST (I can't even stand to write the whole name anymore) seems to rise from the dust anonymously, with no one stepping up to take credit for the havoc they are wreaking in my life. No, Daylight Savings is a monster without a face, a phenomenon without explanation, a sad trick on the human race.

And yet, no one knows who is responsible for the madness. Convenient.

If you can't tell, I'm not a big fan.

Since I don't feel that I can adequately describe my hateful feelings for Daylight Savings Time in words, I have enlisted the help of an illustrator. She captured perfectly how our family felt this morning waking up at the PRETEND 6:00 am, which was the ACTUAL 5:00 am.







Thank you Ashley, for your creative expertise.



I need a nap.

Don't Start Anything You Don't Intend to Continue

When Mike & I were engaged, his family had a wedding shower for me, and they did one of the obligatory "everyone give Deborah some advice for her marriage" deals. I'm sure the right thing to do would behave been to remember, write down, and creatively scrapbook, all of the advice, but I am terrible at all 3 of those things. So I remember nothing.

Except one.

Mike's Grandmother (who just passed away last year) told about cooking her husband a really nice egg and sausage breakfast on the first morning they were married. Her husband greatly appreciated the gesture, and she was very pleased with herself. Until the next morning when he was wondering where breakfast was. And the morning after that. And the morning after that. You get the picture. Grandpa Gardner just assumed that cooking an amazing breakfast for him every morning was what she planned to do all along. So her advice was:

"Don't start anything you don't intend to continue doing for the rest of the marriage."

Believe me, I took the advice to heart. For a girl who kept her breakfast (granola bars) in her car during college years so she could eat on the way to a class that she was undoubtedly late for, the thought of cooking a full-course breakfast made me break out in hives.

So I avoided cooking breakfast.

And ironing.

Unforunately, Iast year I made a huge mistake. Mike rebuilt our lower kitchen cabinets so we could put a dishwasher in. After 2 weeks without a kitchen sink, I went berserk. Once everything was all put in, and the sink was running, I couldn't wait a few more hours for Mike to get home from work, finish the plumbing and install the disposal. I NEEDED that kitchen sink. So I did it myself. And, If I do say so myself, I did a dang good job. Well, except for the fact that a few weeks later, the dispoal fell off and flooded the kitchen because I didn't have it properly secured. BUT, the second time I put it in, I did a dang good job.

So now, guess who the family plumber is???

The old disposal died last month, so the job naturally fell to me, and I pretty much handled it like a pro last weekend. Do I look good under the sink, or what?

I would still rather "plumb" than iron . . . .

The Punchstache

Juice Anyone?

Every Sunday after the kids have starved through 3 hours of church, we have our most well-prepared, healthy, gourmet meal of the week: frozen pizza. Woo-hoo!

And why not top it off with a substance loosely known as "juice," with the actual title of "Thirst Rockers Black Cherry Artificially Flavored Fruit Drink."

If citric acid is a food group, we've got it made.



And if you doubt that this juice contains your 100% daily value of vitamin C, just check out Carter's radioactive mustache (now lovingly renamed The Punchstache).

And Now, We Present . . . .

Ta-da!! We have appeared on the stage of the bloggin world! And strange as it sounds, I have a little stage fright. :)

I'm just dippin' my toes in.

It's not so bad.

Hang on - I think I feel writers block coming on already.

Not to mention carpal tunnel.

Gulp.