One fit well and was well-loved.  So well loved there came to be big holes over the knees.  The second and third pairs were cute – but didn’t fit so well.  Not really.  Not after four little heirs to the throne came along.

And so the Queen looked in her closet and sent out a proclamation.

“Enough is enough!” she said, “This is silly.  Let these useless old jeans be transformed into a beautiful skirt!”

The great necromancer, Google, was summoned and consulted, but -alas- the Queen was not satisfied.

“No, Google, I don’t want a short skirt!  Short skirts are all but useless with all the little princelings I must constantly chase down and carry.  Show me a pattern for a nice, long skirt.”

But, alas, Google came up empty handed.

Thus it happened that the Queen took matters…

How’s that?

I’ve been trying to both keep this little piece of cyberspace going,

AND

follow Elder Bednar’s counsel to not let digital distractions (for me, facebook & blogging) detract from real life. I’m grateful that television programs and the like aren’t big time-suckers for me.  “All” I really needed to do was unplug myself from this amazing bit of machinery and technology.

I’ve found two things:

One,

Wow, was I wasting more time here than I realized!  Sheesh! At first I hardly knew what to do with myself.

Two,

The more I “unplug,” the more I find myself becoming creative*, and wanting to think.  Funny, how plugging in here gives me an excuse to turn my brain off and ignore life.  Is that what I really want? Even if cyberspace is full of wonderful and inspiring…

Sleep-training the baby?

No.  Not really.  He’s doing alright, all things considered.

The two year old? 

Nope.  He’s made the transition into the toddler bed without too much fuss over the last few weeks.  Good job, little man! 

I’m in the middle of sleep-training myself.

I shall explain, and since it’s my blog and I can ramble if I want to, I’m going to tell you the long story.

There are two kinds of people in the world;

introverts

and

extroverts.

Well, okay.  There might be people that fall in the middle, but I think they’re rare.

Since reading “Raising Your Spirited Child,” this is how I define those two labels:

Introverts: Get their energy from doing things by themselves.  I’m not talking about people who come across as being afraid of others,…

The parents kids have enjoyed them to no end, as you will see.

Yes, Eagle won the binky war. For now, anyway. He started searching out small choking hazards and putting them in his mouth in absence of the pacifier… You understand.

Added note: The “pirates” are sailing the seven seas currently, with a “ship” built from every cusion off the play room couch (sigh) and a great big parachute tied to the tops of 5 chairs.

You know, I’m beginning to see that not only do children not *need* toys — they don’t even really *want* them. My kids, at any rate, are perfectly happy just being creative. Maybe I got lucky and happened to get creative genius children. Or maybe I just have three pretty normal kids (albeit abnormally cute, according to…

Ever determined to absolutely annihilate the clutter – not just shuffle it around like I used to do – I happily bring you another update.

What happened to the stuff when I cleaned out my hiding-junk-cupboard?

And the not-so-stealthily-hiding-junk shelf?

Well, the trash got trashed,

the give-away-stuff got given away (or is bagged for tomorrow’s dance-studio-fund-raising-garage-sale),

and the “keepers” have homes.

(There were very few keepers, in case you were wondering.)

The result was so beautiful I’m still riding this high.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, there was one “little” basket on one “little” counter in my kitchen,

mocking me.

Pointing its little finger of shame and keeping one little toe in the door, just to spite me.

Clever of me, though, to have all those leftovers in a basket.

• Baskets are pretty when they’re empty, so you can kind of pretend it’s pretty

…

Spot Light child time!  Yay!

Everybody stands up, and a teacher reads from a simple bio-sheet the parents filled out previously.  We don’t have a huge Primary, so the teachers all fill them out to.

If what she reads applies to you, stay standing.  If it doesn’t match, sit down.  It’s always fun to guess who it is as more and more kids sit down.

“This person’s favorite hobby or activity is… blogging.”

Well, that did it.  Everrrrrrrrrrrrrybody sat down while the pianist -cough, cough- sheepishly stood up.  The kids all look around, puzzled, whispering to their friends, “What’s blogging?”

From a different teacher comes the confession,

“I don’t blog, but I like to read yours!” 

(?! She reads…

<crickets chirping>

I have.

<guilty look on face>

Don’t worry.  I ‘fessed up and now it’s an inside joke.  Sort of.  The kind you go…cringe, ah-heh!… about.

<love you, Mom!>

It was a long time ago.  Way long.  Like, at least 2 years ago.  I think.

But the journal was over 30 years old… so does that count for anything?  I was doing family history,  Right!

Perhaps it is not a coincidence that was the last time they asked us to house-sit for them.

Hmm.

Moving on.

To restore balance to the Force, I’ll give you a glimpse into my journal.  Fair ‘nuf?  Sure.  Seems fair to me.

(No, I wasn’t writing with different colored pens.  I do that here just for your visual enjoyment and my own.  One color of font is just… just… too unvarying.)

(I was going to…

Cinderella (age 6) pondered for just one little moment before proclaiming regally,

“I AM QUEEN OF THE WORLD!”

Well, good to know she holds me in such high esteem.  If indeed she was speaking for me and not for herself… I don’t think I want to know.

In the mean time, my the 4 year old sitting on my lap keeps hitting “enter” and telling me to write “Doodle.”
So here you go, kid:
Doodle doodle doodle doooooooooooooooooooooooooodle.

He wants me to do it again, but I’m not going to.  I have an introduction to write, after all.

“What else should I say?”
The quick but uncertain reply comes:
“I love Doodle?”

You bet I do!

I love all four kids & their handsome daddy, too. …

BUT, in addition to that, I have to share a story.  Because it might just be impossible for me to publish a post with fewer than 1,500 words.  Sorry, it’s just who I am.  

SO.  I…

No, too many details.  I don’t want to bore you.  Short story, must think short…

Brain hurting.

I’ll let you follow me.  Experience what I did.  That’d be the best.

I went here,

then here,

then here,

looking for an all-encompassing link to share with someone unfamiliar with what “Conference” us crazy Mormon folk are talking about this weekend.  I wasn’t overly impressed… (I mean, don’t get me wrong here!  the Church is true, Conference is amazing, but the website… looks… a little… dare I…

But I wasn’t very quick.  Calling and setting up appointments is not a strength of mine, nor is doing research and finding things like karate studios in our area.  With those powers combined, I am NEGLIGENT MOTHER!  Queen of Procrastination and Master of Good Intentions!

And Doodle had to content himself with the “creative movement” class held at the same place & just after C’s ballet class.  It helped –a little- with his tendency to use siblings as “qui-YA” targets, and life goes on…

Until I found a flyer…