Needs

I am not quite ready to discuss the pregnancy. I am exercising my right to deny (I know you are thinking it's a little late for that, but remember, I have memory issues) until full blown nausea and fatigue set in.
Instead I would like to discuss my needs, or the things I cannot live without (really, I probably could, but I would rather not).




My peppermint Stash herbal tea. In complete defiance of the Word of Wisdom, I enjoy my hot drink. My hot peppermint drink seems to sooth the denied nausea.



My pink grapefruit juice. Since I do abide by the counsel of the Word of Wisdom to avoid pink champagne, I indulge frequently in the next best thing.



My fat. I don't care what the new food pyramid says (sorry for being so hypocritical Traverse Mountain 3rd ward, I know I taught you this summer at enrichment that the new food pyramid is important to follow, but I don't care), I will always put my cheese, cream, and butter first. I love dairy, thank you lactose tolerance gods.



My MAC 'O' lipstick. Although I like other girls in gloss, I hate gloss. It's like fly paper. It's sticky and it attracts everything; my hair, my food, my clothing, my children, strange men...I don't care what's 'in', I love lipstick.



My design magazines. I don't care who's dating who in Hollywood, what the current trend is in jeans, what the latest box office hit is (don't even ask me if I've seen a movie yet, I haven't, I guarantee it), or who is up for a Grammy. I do have one major shallow weakness, the design magazine. I used to tell my mom when I was young that Better Homes & Gardens had called and that they wanted to come photograph the house (I could be a brat). I regret this now, for I now know how hard it is to keep a house looking beautiful with multiple children and a husband (I'm not saying anything about your beautification skills Brad). The point is, I've always loved pretty stuff. It was genetically passed to me by my Grandmother, Norah Bernadine (or Grandma Bernie).



My furnace. This morning, we woke up to a very frigid house. I tried (in vain) to get the heat to kick on. It didn't take long to discover (in 20 some degree weather) that I needed to call an expert. Finally, at noon, our home was once again warm. I'm lucky I don't have to chop wood and haul it into the house and throw it in a large furnace. I have thrown wood in the furnace (Minnesota) before, but that's not the hard part.







My beauties. This morning, as we waited out the cold, we sat in the rays of the eastern sun entering our home to take advantage of it's warmth. Since I was too cold to clean, I took advantage of the moment (Abram was unable to see the bright side of things). I cannot live without my children. They are redeeming. With each new child I experience a rebirth and a new part of me is born.
Slowly, I am working to move past the denial.

Ravencrest Riddle

What is black & white, red & bisque, and a little metallic?

Mindless

I used to pride myself on having a great memory. There was a time when names came easily, dates were never forgotten, and events were never missed on account of being overlooked.
Due to old age (or possibly that lack of REM sleep), the last year has been one of confusion and multiple apologies. I now forget everything. I forget parties, activities, birthdays, groceries, times tables, sentence structure, adjectives, and my name. In the last few months I have forgotten about 2 parties, a neighborhood fund raiser, a plethora of groceries, the primary Christmas activity, and that Norah was supposed to give a talk on Sunday (actually I didn't forget, I never knew because I forgot to pick up the primary newsletter) . This isn't a case of 'conveniently' forgetting. There are consequences for my mindless behavior. I am really sad that my family and I are missing out because of my lack of competence and that I appear to be such a flake.
So I apologize to all of you whom I have offended. I am sorry.

Please enjoy our ginger bread house.




Oh, there is one more thing I forgot about in these last few months...

this one carries very serious consequences...

VERY

VERY

SERIOUS.

As I See It

I Have Issues

When I embarked upon becoming a blogger, I envisioned posts which documented a beautiful family life. I welcomed the hope of departing (if only momentarily) from diapers, yelling, biting, hitting, potty training, time outs, sweeping, mopping, washing, drying, and scrubbing. I longed to replace the Dora and Diego lyrics etched in my now oatmeal of a brain, with creative, illustrative, and expressive prose and poetry. I wanted to once again, become a little bit of the old artistic Martha, and just a tiny bit less of the try-as-I-might (not so much) Donna Reed Martha.
There has been a little self expression here and there. And I have enjoyed the constant reminder to document the fleeting time I have with my beautiful offspring. But to take the time to actually articulate beyond surface feelings and thoughts takes a bit of time.
As much as I would like to write a post about how my life is like this...



I don't have the time or the inclination to lie to you today, for this...



is the art that awaits me.

So this post is for all of you girls who say that my blog makes you feel bad about your house, cooking, mom skills and your blog. Take it from me, the negligent launderer, you've nothing to feel bad about.

I'll try to post something less 'real' in the next few days.

And for those of you who ask for photos of the house we are building, I posted a link on my sidebar because I really don't want to be vain enough to think everyone is really that interested in a house.

39

Happy Birthday Dear Brad.

Here are 39 thank yous to my incredibly handsome, talented, good, husband to round out my grateful November.

1. Since you didn't have me at hello, thank you for continuing to say hello at least 100 times more (or so).

2. Thank you for being a spectacular kisser.

3. Thank you for being such a hard worker and a good provider.

4. Thank you for introducing me to medium rare steak.

5. Thank you for a warm, safe home.

6. Thank you for being so patient with my quirks.

7. Thank you for continuing to compliment my derriere in jeans even though it is no longer 25.

8. Thank you for being so sexy.

9. Thank you for sleeping on the side of the bed closest to the door.

10. Thank you for some sweet rims.

11. Thank you for liking my cooking, it makes life easier.

12. Thank you for always supporting me in my callings.

13. Thank you for sharing your talents with our children.

14. Thank you for loving that I served a mission.

15. Thank you for being such a handy man.

16. Thank you for being so clever (most of the time, sometimes you are too clever for your own good).

17. Thank you for always being willing to help our friends and neighbors.

18. Thank you for being nice to my mom.

19. Thank you for all the cat litter you've cleaned.

20. Thank you for the Randy Travis song you sang to me at our Wedding, my aunts still speak of it.

21. Thank you for avocado shakes.

22. Thank you for letting me often win.

23. Thank you for always being willing to serve.

24. Thank you for standing by me when I'm crazy.

25. Thank you for always telling me I'm the prettiest and the sexiest.

26. Thank you for loving sushi.

27. Thank you for being tender hearted.

28. Thank you for day dreaming with me.

29. Thank you for not being too much of a sports fanatic.

30. Thank you for being kind to animals.

31. When I taught you how to snow board, thank you for not rubbing it in my face that you were better then me after 4 attempts.

32. Thank you for allowing me to complain throughout my pregnancies.

33. Thank you for humoring me when I talk about things that don't interest you.

34. Thank you for being patient when I didn't change my name for 3 years.

35. Thank you for being my best friend.

36. Thank you for songs, laughter, and joy.

37. Thank you for the most beautiful children.

38. Thank you for being an amazing father.

39. Thank you for loving me always.

I love you.

So Many Things...

Last week I just about threw in the towel on blogging.
It takes time and effort and sometimes I feel guilty. I waffle back and forth about whether or not it is really a best choice.
Then I thought about how many good things I've already sacrificed in order to be a semi-good mom.
I've given up reading (this was a huge sacrifice).
I watch very, very little TV. Sometimes I watch silent TV while breastfeeding.
I never, ever watch movies.
I don't do anything with friends, well once in a great while.
I have employed a babysitter like 5 times in the past 4 years.
(By the way, these are not things I am suggesting every mom should do, they are just things I have had to do because I am a horrible multitasker)
So, after consideration, I decided to give it another week and I am so glad I did, because just look at all of the gratitude it has brought me today:

1. My friend, Wendy (who I met through blogging), is finally a mother after many prayers and a ton of patience. I haven't been able to stop smiling today because I am so happy for her.



2. My frustration at finding the above and being told by my 4 year old (who coincidently is named Norah Griffiths) that my 3 year old did the drawing on the door (who cannot write and who is not named Norah Griffiths) was quickly overshadowed by the knowledge that I am not alone because of this post.



3. Because of blogging, I remembered to take a picture of my girls in the new snow.

4. I get to direct everyone to my dear, talented sister in-law's blog so you can view our Christmas pictures (aren't you so excited) so I can tempt you with a family Christmas card. If you want one email me, marthagriffiths@gmail.com. Some of you will be getting them whether you like them or not, so please reserve a revered spot on your refrigerator or magnet board.

and lastly,

5. I get the opportunity to air my bouts with insanity on my blog so that all of you who live by me can understand my newly acquired ugliness.
I have a self mutilation problem. It has only manifested itself 3 times previously, but sadly, on Thanksgiving afternoon, I was stressed and sad and I took the scissors into my own hands and did something drastic. I chopped my hair off.


(please excuse my skin, stress is manifested in many ways besides chopped hair)

Like I said, I have done this before.



I did it once while in a very stressful companionship on my mission. I just grabbed all of my hair in front and cut it. I ended up feathering it to the side a la 80's style, which luckily seemed to fit right in with the inhabitants of the Provence/time warp I was serving in.



I did it during a not-so-good-for-me relationship back in my early 20's (the girl in the picture with me is my sister, and that is not the relationship I am talking about).

And I did it again after I had my first child.

You may think this is not a big deal, but it is. I have a very pronounced widow's peak and bangs DO NOT WORK. I know this, yet I continue to chop off the front of my hair every time I feel major amounts of stress. This must be a metaphor for something, I just haven't figured it out yet.
So stare if you must, but know-I don't think this is pretty either.
In fact, my hair dresser passed me in the hallway at church Sunday and told Brad to hide the scissors.