Paint on your Face

I have a friend who is a face and body paint artist (www.onthespotbodyart.com) with whom I'm working on portfolio building and event photography. Following is her rendition of my children adorned. Of course, as much as my children are enjoying their newfound "modeling" status, this new venture has not come without the absolute, undying, requisite, profound need to buy more photography stuff!

Imagine Zoey posing here at the bottom. Baby face paint is lovelier in the mind than on the hands. Or in her eye.

Happy Father's Day!

In honor of all our dads out there, here's a fun crafty card to make for him. Gift not included, but I'm sure he'd prefer the card to adorn the gift rather than to just BE the gift!

Click on the image, zoom out if needed, and print.

One of my best memories of my father while I was growing up was sitting at the dining table with him, our origami books and piles of colorful papers spread about us, folding, folding, folding. The day my husband arrived home with a stack of origami books and papers made me so nostalgic, watching him repeat the folding, folding, folding with our own little ones.
Since I started doing the church bulletin, the back always has some fun children's activities on it: usually an origami design courtesy of his suggestion. I draw the line at flying objects or noise-making clickers, but it's so fun to see all the paper sculpture everyone carries around after the meeting. Lately I've been trying to tie it in to a scripture or gospel concept just to justify it remaining on the program!

Biodegradable Seed Pot

These paper seed/cuttings pots are designed to be transplanted right to the garden and then biodegrade like peat pots to eliminate transplant shock.

After coming across some online, I wanted to try making some that didn't need tape or staples to hold the folded box together when opened out. Neither stainless steel nor cellophane are on the list of vital nutrients for my garden soil. The newspaper pots still need some tape or staples, but since copy paper is more stable it can do without.

I finally found a plan that used the flaps formed at the top of the pot folded down to secure the box and prevent it unfolding, but since I don't take the newspaper, (and let's face it, all our news comes with a .com at the end of it now anyway,) I needed a pot that was made from standard copy paper.
(If using a half sheet of newspaper, just fold in half again after Step 2 and proceed as usual.)

These stand up to normal watering as long as you don't move the paper pot while the soil is wet, or the bottom will fall out. Allow the bottom to dry, and then transplant outdoors.

To print, just click on the image to enlarge, (zoom out if needed), and choose File>Print, or right-click on the enlarged image and choose Save As, then print from your image viewer.

Who needs brothers?

Levi seems to think all his problems in life would be solved if he only had a brother. Which makes me want to sing, If He Only Had a Brain. Let's face it, his sisters build forts, wrestle, play trains and dinosaurs, do karate, and Taya built him this bow and arrow. Granted, they do spend a lot of time playing princess and Barbie, dancing around in frilly skirts, and painting their nails, but honestly: I don't think brother lack is a major concern around here. He should be more concerned about that missing elbow that needs Photoshopped back on!

Taya One One

I think it was a few days ago I blogged about her turning 10, and now she's already 11! It must be nice to have so many birthdays every year, all that extra cake and ice cream. Maybe somebody gave her a speed-up-time clock, or maybe she built one for some science fair. I don't know how she does it, but amazingly she gets older and older faster and faster, to her delight and my horror. Not horror at her, I mean, just look at her! With a personality to match, she's one amazing still-little girl!

Easter Blues

No, we don't actually have the blues, we're not sad: look at how happy we look! No Easter dresses this year, (have you SEEN how many daughters I have?! If not, just look at the photo, Einstein.) I ended up in blue, noticed Taya was in blue, and then like the family fashionazi I am dug out everyone's blues. Troy willingly goes with the flow, which makes his domestic life so much simpler, and Levi is always happy to match Dad. Though frankly they didn't even notice until I pointed it out to them during church. And then I realized all the bluebonnets are out this time of year and arm-twisted our friend David who attends church with us to graciously swap family photos shoots. Though climbing down a hill in spike heels wasn't my idea of a good time, (those idyllic bluebonnet fields are actually full of thistles and thorns and mud with a freeway speeding by), and despite the full sun time of day which results in yet another Easter squinting family photo to treasure, (when will we learn to stop taking these right after church? When it stops being so convenient. And when I stop using so many parentheses. Stay on topic, girl!) we had a wonderful and relaxing Easter Sunday. And we weren't distracted by any bunnies nor eggs. We do all that pagan stuff the day before and the day after. On Easter we eat ham. And think about the Resurrection. While we sing in the choir.

8 months

Zoey is 8 months old, and it somehow feels like what I really mean is that I'm 8 months pregnant. She's the most advanced fetus I've ever seen: sitting up, smiling, eating solid flowers...er, food, and check out how well she wears that clothing! I've never seen a fetus do that trick before now. I'm also pretty sure she's the smartest thing ever; unless you count my older 4 kids, in which case it's a 5-way tie. I will say she's the cutest baby because all my other kids are no longer babies! Yeah, I know you covet my perfect children and my photography skills, and I can say that because most of you just look at the photos and never read this part. And those who read this far love me just the way I am, and are susceptible to suggestive subliminal messages. That wasn't very subtle, was it? I think this is the part that qualifies as my "Mindless Ramblings." Just pray she grows up to be just like her dad! Unless you've read his Slightly Unstable blog, in which case just be glad your own kids aren't in our gene pool!

Singer

I have had this Singer anniversary edition sewing machine for several years now, and it worked, but it didn't have a table, and wasn't in tune. Since it didn't have a table, it didn't sit level, and the mechanism hit the desk when it was running. One morning when my sewing student was here, and my kids were out of school, we were all sewing around the big dining table (my student had hers, my daughter had mine, and I had my serger). Troy must have felt either left out or too masculine perhaps from lifting weights that morning, and pulled out my old black Singer to fix it up. He got it oiled and tuned, and a few hours and Craigslist clicks later came home with a new table for it too! I found him and Levi rewiring it into the table for a knee button, so no more foot pedal. We're such nerds. I have to be honest, that's kind of why I married him. When we were dating, a big group hopped into our cars to drive to Yellowstone, and we were the last ones in the caravan. He started his car, and as everyone drove away, smoke billowed out from under his hood. I was pretty disappointed to miss the park as I hadn't been since I moved to Idaho. He diagnosed the green goo pouting out of his radiator as, "This is no problem! My dad is the automotive professor on campus." The thing limped up to his dad's shop, and 2 hours later we were watching elk cross the road in Yellowstone Park! Several months after that, we were watching a movie with some friends, and my attempt to make popcorn yielded some black smoke, sparks, and some very burnt kernels. Disappointed again, (I love popcorn!) I brought him the air popper and sat down to watch the movie. He brought it back to the kitchen, and 15 mintues later walked into the TV room with a giant bowl of fluffy, buttery popcorn! I literally thought, "I have to marry this guy." It's a good thing he liked me too!

Three Front Teeth

Okay, so I hate to admit it, but my kid, my son, my only son, our only shot to get this boy thing right, has 3 front teeth! Not by any fault of our own save for an unfortunate flaw in genetics. His right lateral incisor (can you tell we took him to a pediatric dentist?) fell out to reveal not its successor, but a giant central incisor otherwise known as your front teeth. Saw-edged to perfection, right on time, just wrong place.
So the cracked, rotten, infected, gray front tooth we've been praying would fall out was still in there, twisted and sticking out like it deserved all the limelight! Seriously, praying, because the cost of getting the thing yanked totaled $150 per tooth! Can you believe that dental insurance doesn't cover anesthesia for children?! Injections, yes, so technically it's covered, but who is going to allow that on a 7-year-old?! So funny gas was called for. We even went in to the extraction appointment, gas tanks all hooked up, and the dentist said, "If you just really work on that thing, you can get it out today." So we left as he packed up all the gas tanks again (sorry, Aaron!), and Levi got to watch TV the rest of the day while he twisted and yanked. We even tied dental floss to it while he pulled and twisted some more. We told him the dentist mentioned that the tooth fairy would bring TEN DOLLARS if he got that thing out that day, and after goodnight kisses and tears that it hadn't come out, he came out asking Daddy to do something about it. Lacking any dental tools and dental degree, Troy pulled out the needle-nosed pliers, grabbed a hold, and twisted that thing right out! Levi was still hunched up with his eyes squeezed shut waiting for the yank, and replied, "Wow, that didn't even hurt!" Sure was a lot of blood, though, and a root about a mile long! And bright and early the next morning Levi had two five-dollar bills under his pillow!

So does this kid have personality, or what?

Playing Dumb

At the park the other day, 2 twin girls were playing in a mud puddle from a recent Texas splash and dash spring storm, and their older sister showed up and said, "Ew, ick, stop playing in that!" A neighbor mom told her, "Don't worry about it: they've been doing it the whole time you were gone. They won't be any cleaner if you make them stop."

Wow. Now THIS is how to be a laid back parent, I observed.

I asked her what response she would give to the mild freak out of, "Oh, she's eating rocks!" I so frequently hear when my babies are sucking on pea gravel. Yes, it's gross, yes, it may be a choking hazard, but I'm so sick of constantly fishing them out that I've just given up. However, in an attempt to not admit that I am knowingly allowing my kids to participate in activities that promote choking, I "pretend" I don't notice, which always yields that friendly piece of warning advice that she's sucking rocks...again. So then I "pretend" I'm surprised and grossed out, and like a good mom and say, "Ew, yuck, spit those out."

My friend just laughed and told me that if I'm a laid back mom, I need to wear that. What I'm doing instead is looking incompetent, perpetuating the space-case reputation (not that it's totally undeserved, but to a much lesser degree than it appears).

So in an attempt to not look incompetent, I am in fact making myself look incompetent. It's better to just let them do things like play in the mud, eat inorganic matter, or practice toddler gymnastics by climbing on rickety objects (it's a lot cheaper than Gymboree!), than pretending I don't see it and acting flustered when it's pointed out.

I've also learned that if I'm getting "that vibe" from someone that they don't think I can handle 5 kids, that it's probably not all in my head as I have previously thought. It's probably because I inadvertently lead them to believe that by playing dumb, and that instead it's really time to step into my role of parenting "old school" style.

Any witty or quick responses for, "Back off, hover mom!" are welcome in the comments. Help me educate the would-be CPS-dialing watch dogs!

Children's Museum

Dad thinks he's hilarious. "Just gimme the marshmallow!" I can't tell if she looks more like a juvenile version of Frankenstein, or a baby with baby marshmallows stuck all over her face.

Levi's called it in to the authorities as child abuse. It certainly is nice of the children's museum to provide telephones for such purposes. He thinks it's a mock metro control station, but we know better! Who gave that kid a phone?!
They have an adorable new exhibit on Mexican-America culture, taking paintings and building 3D sets from them. Here my girls enjoy a fiesta, in case that wasn't obvious. I sure wish there was sound on photos because they rocked those guitars. They're really good. I wish I could say the same for my little pocket camera. It's really bad. But what I trade in quality I gain in convenience. My big camera has a tendency to cause head injuries when the kids walk next to me slinging it around. I think it weighs more than my baby. But the head injury thing explains a lot in regards to my kids...

No, it's not Halloween again

Here's Daddy's new jacket. Finally! I bought this fabric about 3 years ago intending to make Troy a windbreaker fleece jacket for Christmas. I didn't. The next year I tried again (if thinking, "Hey, I ought to finally make that jacket," counts as trying). This year, I actually got the fabric out, cut it out, and mostly sewed it before Christmas. It's a good thing I had a back up gift. After weeks and weeks go by of "I can do anything in 15-minute increments," Troy finally has his new jacket. It fits him a lot better than it fits the girls. It should, as that's kind of the point of custom made. And it took long enough, it had better be worth it!

Small Group dynamics

"I'm not 'just a mommy,' I'm an anthropologist, creating and studying my own small society"

Wednesday I went in to visit with Levi's therapist to get some advice on how to proceed in dealing with his ADD. My oldest daughter also most likely has it too, as probably Troy and I also, but Levi deals with it in more disruptive ways than his sister's propensity to doodling flowers and creative writing during class lectures.

So we spent a lot of time on my parenting style and philosophies, and somehow my youngest sister way of "hiding" things didn't seem like such a good plan anymore. Maybe I really am a bit of an oddball. I see myself as a boring, conservative, mini-van driving, suburban, YMCA card-carrying soccer mom even though my kids are in gymnastics. But I have 5 kids. I'm Mormon. I do things a little differently. I'm a wannabe homeschooler. We eat whole wheat bread from wheat I grind myself. My extended family is very colorful. Maybe there really is a hidden little drummer who is only in my head. And what to me is a conscience decision to let my kids learn from small decisions and avoid being "helicopter mom" may seem to others, who don't realize that I keep to myself because I'm overly talkative about trivial things, that I'm oblivious, unengaged, inattentive, in short, that I have parental ADD!

So my own small society just had to get a little bigger. I have a "problem child." I have become accountable to someone other than myself, and not the CPS. It's to my village that I've enlisted to help me raise my children: their teachers, my neighbors, our friends. Perhaps I should face up to my attempt as the salmon swimming against the current hasn't been as unobtrusive as I thought.

As one friend put it so aptly, "You're not explaining, you're not defending, you're educating. You do things in a way that's worked for hundreds of years, and society has changed. If you see yourself as an educator, people will not misunderstand you so often."

I'm a very self-conscious anthropologist, er, mama. Perhaps it's time to open up a little and let some of that go.

Bring Your Sister to School Day

CPS officer: Did you carry your baby sister to school yesterday?
Levi: Yes, because my mom and dad forgot her at home.
CPS officer: Did you get in trouble?
Levi: No.

This is why we don't base conclusions on anything a 7-year-old says. Last week Levi was getting ready for school, I brought the girls with me while Troy stayed here with the 2 little girls. Levi, thinking Troy was not home (as if we have ever left our kids home unattended, he still somehow thought we had even though Troy was in fact in our room getting dressed), picked up the baby (who was playing on the rug in front of our open bedroom door) and tried to walk to school with her. Our neighbor saw him on the sidewalk a few houses down from ours (certainly not all the 4 blocks to school that Levi reported) and handed the baby to me as I was walking back from the school and Troy was finished dressing and wondering if he was mistaken and I had really taken the baby with me after all. Now, I see this as a frightening and unfortunate experience of misplaced intentions on the part of my son, trying to be helpful, yet a great success story of our "village" support and safety system kicking in. And just because Levi only recognizes time out or grounding as punishment, he certainly did get in trouble! Chastisement, many serious talks about how we would never leave them home alone, lectures on learning good judgment, and having baby-holding privileges revoked only appear not to be punishment to him, yet with good intentions gone seriously awry are more valid and effective punishments than time out.

Enter the CPS officer.

And my piece of advice to anyone out there who has ever had any suspicions of child abuse or neglect: except in obvious circumstances, PLEASE speak directly to those involved before picking up that phone. If you have witnessed this or have strong suspicions, make the call. If you are merely head scratching, vague wondering, maybe, "bad feeling," take appropriate measures first, such as speaking to the parents and asking for the reasonable explanation. And here is why.
The CPS, without our knowledge or consent (on the strength of a single phone call with well-intentioned yet out-of-context information gained through the informant's relationship with my 7-year-old ADD son) went to our children's school, pulled them out of class one by one, and in a recorded interview asked for extremely personal information (that we have tried and tried to instill in them to not divulge without our permission, especially to strangers or when we are not present), such as their full names, address, phone number, sleeping arrangements, family interactions, and of course their private parts.

This is wrong.

It undermines all our attempts to keep them safe, from falling prey to tricky ploys by adults to lure children into behavior that is innapropriate. The next time someone asks my 5-year-old questions about where she lives, or about her private parts, it will be that much easier for her to give out this information because, why not, she's done it before. She has no idea what's legitimate or not.
So my kids came home Friday after school and dropped this bomb on us, my 5th grader understandably terrified and my young children completely clueless about the future danger they may face from a chink out of their safety armor. I could care less about the home visit; I knew they'd walk in and know right away the allegations were baseless. But what I cannot take back is the invasion of my children's privacy that makes them more vulnerable to the next person who asks innapropriate or personal questions.

The CPS itself recommends:
"Will the person know I've reported him or her?

Your report is confidential, and it is not subject to public release under the Open Records Act. The law provides for immunity from civil or criminal liability for innocent persons who report even unfounded suspicions, as long as your report is made in good faith. Your identity is kept confidential.

What are Abuse, Neglect, and Exploitation?

• Abuse is mental, emotional, physical, or sexual injury to a child or person 65 years or older or an adult with disabilities or failure to prevent such injury.
• Neglect of a child includes failure to provide a child with food, clothing, shelter and/or medical care; and/or leaving a child in a situation where the child is at risk of harm.
• Neglect of a person 65 years or older or an adult with disabilities that results in starvation, dehydration, over- or under-medication, unsanitary living conditions, and lack of heat, running water, electricity, medical care, and personal hygiene.
• Exploitation is misusing the resources of a person 65 years or older or an adult with disabilities for personal or monetary benefit. This includes taking Social Security or SSI (Supplemental Security Income) checks, abusing a joint checking account, and taking property and other resources.

What if I'm not sure?

If you have reason to suspect abuse, but are not positive, make the report. If you have any doubts about whether or not it is abuse, call the hotline. They can advise you on whether the signs you have observed are abuse."

The social worker we spoke with recommends that the informant should first consult the parents about concerning situations where reasonable. If preserving confidentiality is your concern, the report is quite detailed and usually very obvious as to who called it in, even though the identity of the informant is illegal to divulge. Making that call without first expressing concern is far more damaging to a relationship than the parent knowing who made it after the conversation.

Every parent has scary stories, and so many things can be easily taken out of context. The investigations by the CPS are very invasive, so be aware of what happens after that report is made, and do your best to make sure your reaction to the situation is appropriate. It's not a simple call and a little knock at the door. It is an extremely strong response.

We appreciate our "village" that we've carefully assembled of friends, neighbors, and teachers, watching out for us, helping us, supporting us, by invtervening to keep our kids safe, or by expressing their concerns to us directly, but while the CPS definitely has its place, please be reasonably sure if their place in your particular situation is appropriate before making a report. One of the best ways to do this is simply to express your concern to the children's guardian, and then make a decision on whether or not an expert is needed.

Furthermore, the ability of this agency to do an end-run around our parental rights by using the childcare and public school system to question our children is wrong. When 50% of the reports to the CPS are actually found to be baseless, the net is too wide, catching up in it too many unaffected children who are then placed in disturbing and possibly traumatic circumstances. There are better ways to obtain inverviews from allegedly abused or neglected children.

The Texas Family Code states:

"§ 261.302. CONDUCT OF INVESTIGATION.

(a) The investigation may include:

(b) The interview with and examination of the child may:

(1) be conducted at any reasonable time and place, including the child's home or the child's school;"

However, the home interview has been found to be subject to 4th and 14th Ammendment limitations that require due process by obtaining consent or court order before entering the home. Allowing children to be interviewed while they are not in our care should carry with it some controls and requirements beyond an initial report, and should not be the first step of an investigation. Parents should always have the right to be informed of official interviews of minors, regardless of whose care they are in at the time, and barring enough evidence or imminently dangerous allegations worthy of a court order to conduct interviews, parents should have the right to consent to or deny the interview.

Child interviews are innacurate and often not considered evidence. If a child is truly involved in neglect or abuse, the interview alone will not and cannot substantiate it: there will be other signs. Child interviews should be used in conjunction with home visits and caretaker interviews, and only when steps have been taken to reasonably assure that a child interview is necessary or beneficial. Again, they should not be the first action taken!
To make your voice heard, contacting your state representative is easy. Laws are created and changed by our request, and our power to be heard is tremendous, especially in local government. In Texas, use

http://www.legis.state.tx.us/

and type in your address to find your representatives. Our children cannot consent to questioning, and no one should be able to consent on their behalf other than their legal guardians. The CPS cannot be allowed to make that determination, which is how the law now stands by allowing interviews without parental knowledge or consent when children are in childcare.
Please comment if you are interested in being involved in the process or participating in a group letter to our state representatives on this specific area of the Texas Family Code.
This can so easily happen to any of our children. Protect yourselves by always being vigilant, asking for help from your support system (like a neighborhood watch for crime, make sure others have an interest in protecting your children), be approachable so those with concerns will involve you before they involve the state, and fight for laws that do a better job of identifying children who are truly victims of abuse or neglect.

Six months and crawling

Yeah, I know she's adorable. You don't have to tell me. Unless you want to. That's what that little comment button is there for. So go ahead, let me know. You don't have to think she's adorable for her to still be adorable, though. She already is. But sometimes mommies like to hear that. Or read it, as is so in this case. I'm making her not as cute, aren't I? Well, I made her cute in the first place, so hurry and leave a comment before I sabotage her!

All aboard to Bethlehem

Every year in Burnet, Texas, about 50 miles NW of Austin, the First Baptist church opens its Main Street Bethlehem recreation. About an hour's drive, at least 2 hours in line, and you wonder, "This had better be worth it!" It certainly is!

Free or for a donation, you enter into an amazing rock and rustic ancient city complete with a stable cave and manger scene. The live actors entertain showing the way the citizens lived and worked, and always found beautiful ways to incorporate the rumors of the tiny Messiah into their conversations. Roman soldiers, campers, shop keepers, artisans, a tax collector, prisoners, and more, on about an acre of permanent structures. There's a wonderful dinner train that runs between Bethlehem and other surrounding cities, so ignoring the overhead eletrical wires, the few electric lights inside, the modern dress and cameras of the patrons, and the train horn blaring, "All aboard!" you really can believe you might have been there! Be sure to indulge in the baker's sweet bread.

Bethlehem Bread recipe
2 1/2 lbs flour
2 1/4 c milk
2 tsp salt
9 Tb sugar
1/2 c shortening
2 pkg/2 Tb active dry yeast

Combine all ingredients except flour, and pour into a well in the center of flour. Mix well and knead about 10 minutes. Rise until double in size, punch down and rise again. Or, pour all ingredients into bread machine on "dough" cycle as directed by manufacturer.

Roll dough into large rectangles, about 9"x13". Brush top with melted shortening and sprinkle with sugar. Rise until double in size. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes, or until golden. Makes a whole lot. To serve, slice into small rectangles, praise the Messiah, and gobble down. Be sure to pass some through the bars to the prisoner behind you.

If you can make it next year, I highly recommend it! We'll go again. Meet us in the camper's section, and we'll break some bread together.

Merry Christmas from your Pals

Santa came early this year at our neighborhood party. My kids all loved his real beard, and asked for wonderful sorts of things like i-pods, PS DS, and other acronyms I can't afford. Somehow we were all able to find a clean red shirt for the event. Except those who could only find white or burgundy shirts. Close enough, I say! One of the benefits of having a color-blind husband, I guess.
I was hired to do the Santa photos, and at the last minute chickened out and hired a real pro! Which was an excellent decision based on the junk that's been coming out of my camera lately, and the fact that I have a nursing infant. The Santa provided all the props, the photographer had lights and equipment that cost more than my house, and I got the opportunity to observe without any pressure what a print-on-site photo job is really like. I designed all the card templates for the clients to choose from and learned how to use a beautiful portable mini photo lab. And the photographer, as a commercial specialist, didn't quibble over sharing the digital copy with us. By next year, I think I can handle this "grip and grin, print!" type of job. Halfway through the evening, Troy brought me the baby to nurse, and when I brought her back he said he'd rather print photos. So not only did I get to enjoy most of our own party, but he figured out how to get that printer to do things even the photographer hadn't known. So Merry Christmas from our Pals to yours!
For commercial or family photography in the Austin Metro area, www.carolinemowry.com

I'm 5% skinnier today

How to use a body-fat caliper: (and in case you're a little too obsessed like I am, order them here or you can pay full price at www.accumeasurefitness.com)

Read the instructions, even if you've already been using the thing for 3 years. That little slider-ma-bob-thingy on there, you're supposed to slide that all the way the right before measuring. That way, when the calipers click into position, that black line on there tells you how many millimeters you've pinched. Do NOT use the edge of the jaws themselves where the yellow line is, that is NOT where you're supposed to read the measurement.
So, instead of 12mm=25% body fat, I'm in fact 9mm=20% body fat. As my goal was to get to 20% body fat, I'm done. Easiest fitness goal I've ever reached. All praise to technical error paired with a touch of idiocy. Now I can be skinny and stupid. I feel my modeling contract coming on.

Pink Vinyl dumb bells Rant

WHAT?! This is supposed to be from a bodybuilding web site, and they actually have pink vinyl dumb bells on their header graphic?! I guarantee she didn't get abs like those hefting around silly little wastes of time with ridiculous form! Look at the guy, shredded, a big metal manly heavy weight like that, and you wonder why women are so confused about how to get really lean and fit?

Ladies, let me clear up something for you: you are not a man, and there is NO WAY you're going to get big and bulky like a man if you lift heavy. You want to get beautiful definition? Lift heavy. You want to be lean? Lift heavy. While 90% of your success is how much food you put in your mouth (there's no way you can out-exercise a bad diet), to get what you want from your fitness goals, lift HEAVY! Throw the pink vinyl dumb bells in the trash, and for good measure chuck the turquoise vinyl ones in there too. Unless you have toddlers who lift with you like I do, get rid of 'em because that's all they're good for!

If you freak out at anything over 20lbs, then I'm talkin' to YOU! If you know what you should be doing and not doing it because you're too "lazy" or "girlie," shame on you! But if you really want to be smart about your fitness and doing the wrong thing because you don't know any differently, I'm talkin' to YOU! All the "lift light with high reps for fat loss" advice is just not true.
My golden beginner tip of the day: do 2 sets of 12 reps, or 3 sets of 8 reps as HEAVY as you can lift! By the last 2 you should be suffering failure. If you are trying to lift 12, and only get to 10, that's fine: you're lifting heavy enough. If you get to 12 and say, "I can do 15," then you are almost wasting your time. The only thing I can say to that is, "Doing something is better than doing nothing. Slightly."
Don't give me the "I get too big," excuse. Unless you are on steroids, that really just means you are too fat. Brutal honesty time here. Get your body fat under 20%, even just down to 20%, and tell me you're too big because I'm sure I'll never hear from you.
Trust me on this one. Just try it. Up your weights, never do more than 24 reps of an exercise (2x12 or 3x8 or 4x6), and you'll see what I mean. I lift as heavy as I can safely handle, and it's still not nearly as much weight as my husband can throw in the air. Do you see me sporting guns like a man?
Pink vinyl dumb bells...on a bodybuilding site! Excuse me while I go laugh, except I might have to gag first. And come on, you have to give me credit for not making any dumb bell jokes about this. I guess I just ruined it.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all

Yep, that's a big giant dead bird on the table in the back thar. We ain't pullin' no fancy dinner here, but we did pull out the matching non-plastic plates even if we don't got no matching serving dishes. A crock pot full o' stuffing, a giant plastic water pitcher. Tha's all we need. And just pretend you don't see that baby sitting in a Bumbo chair on a raised surface. I promise, no infants were harmed during the making of this picture. Exactly one turkey was killed, tho.

Bumbo safety recall

Bumbo Baby Seat has a new warning to prevent injuries from falls, recommending placing a warning label on the seat itself to not place it on tables, counters, hard surfaces, etc. The baby can arch its back and pop right out of the foam seat, causing head injuries when falling back onto a hard surface or off a high surface. The similar product, Bebe Pod, has similar safety issues. So, do I need to order away for the sticker? Does she look like she's going anywhere? Do I look concerned?

And check out the adorable knuckle suck!

She's cute, and can indeed smile

So here's the proof that I do in fact still have a baby, that she can in fact smile, and that I remember how to blog. She's been "real" smiling in response to our smiles since September 1 (about 3 weeks old), and has been smiling spontaneously since about 5 weeks old. She's now almost 4 months old, and doing all sorts of neat things like sucking on her index finger knuckle rather than her thumb, rolling over, and blowing these really cute spit bubbles while she babbles that I'm sure only a mother can appreciate.
So quit your complaining. I don't feel bad about not posting cutie baby photos, because I don't care about disappointing all 3 readers of this blog, and because she's screaming at me lying on the floor as I try to type about how cute her smiles are. Excuse me while I go play with my adorable baby and see if I get her to smile again, all for your reading pleasure. The things I do for this blog.

Me too, me too!

While taking some smiley photos of the baby, the big sisters wanted in on the action. It's hard for me to take snapshots now, and I find my life's photo history slipping away because I want everything that comes out of the camera to be awesome. But usually, the best photos are those that just happen in a click, because photos are more about how we feel when we look at them rather than all the technical wonderment. Because let's face it, very little of what comes out of my camera is awesome, and this is really how I comfort myself.

Yo-yo dieter

Technically, purely, I am a yo-yo dieter. Given the extenuating circumstances of 5 children in 10 years, I forgive myself. But it doesn't make losing weight over and over again any easier. With each year I age and each child I bear, it gets harder, and harder, and harder. And while I absolutely refuse to publicly share my before/after progress photos (a la Body for Life bikini clad overweight model), I will share my CURRENT weight graphs.

My goal progress graph: losing weight is more like skiing moguls than downhill
And my weight loss graph from the past 12 months. Note the pregnancy curve!

While I have the photos, and I can see the progress from 170 to 140 pounds and back and then back again, it's still hard to be high again. While I know I've done it before, and I have the knowledge, tools, and confidence to do it again, it's still hard, every time. While I know it's hard, it's difficult, it sucks, and I hate it, I also know that I've been there before, and it is all worth it! Nothing tastes as good as being thin!

This time around I have changed up my plan a bit, gravitating even more toward the bodybuilding school of thought: lifting heavy/low reps, intense cardio, eating extremely clean (high protein, loads of veggies, eating most of my fruit/carbs around my work outs). I think it suits my body style well, and I've had good success with it before. While my weight loss is slower with all this weight lifting, from the photos I am pleasantly surprised to see the difference in body composition at the same weight. Muscle really does weigh more than fat, and is a whole lot prettier!

Cancer sucks

My friend Susan Cummings Grover, age 38, died of breast cancer last Saturday Nov 1, 2008, after 7 years of battle. She leaves behind her husband, Doug, and 3 young daughters age 9, 7, and 3.

Seven years ago, I got a phone call from my friend Susan. We had been trying to coordinate babysitting and date nights, and she told me she couldn't do it then or in the near future, hinting that all was not right. It sounded like some sort of flu, and I offered any help I could to her, taking her children, bringing her a meal, which she refused. She finally broke and told me just how sick she really was, that I couldn't bring in food or take her kids because chemo depressed her immune system, and asking me to keep it quiet as long as I could. She assured me that through fasting and prayer and blessings she knew it wasn't her time, and that she would be around years yet to "afflict" me with her friendship.

Susan lost her mother in a car crash 8 years ago not long before she was diagnosed with cancer. Shortly after, my own mother was diagnosed with cancer, and Susan was the first person I called. If anyone could understand losing a mother too early and that cancer SUCKS, it was her. She didn't tell me I had to enjoy all the time I had left with my mother, that at least she wasn't diagnosed at as young an age as Susan, she just cried with me and kept saying, "Oh, Emma, this sucks!" She listened, she understood, she sincerely grieved with me.

Perky didn't begin to describe her, and optimistic underestimates her. Yet never fake, never false, always sincere with a quirky sense of humor that left us wondering how she could pull it off. She was passionate and driven, and modeled perfection as closely as anyone I have ever met. We shared so many of the same ideas on raising children, marriage and family life, the role of women, finances, politics, religion, yet she bettered me in all of them without ever making me resent her for it. In fact, it made me marvel and inspired me to be more like her. She was so unique, I fear I will never find another friend like her, and regret that I can not count her as a closer friend, that I let that chance slip away, because I know she would have welcomed me as openly as she welcomed everyone with her gracious talent for friendship. Even before she got cancer she was an amazing and inspiring person. Even after she got cancer she was always optimistic and sincere.

Over the years, I have pushed Susan away, not because I thought she would die, but because as her fight started going downhill I was afraid to talk to her about my own mother's losing battle. My mom had pulled away from her cancer support groups because she couldn't handle everyone dying, and I thought Susan would feel the same way getting bad reports from me. My mom always asked about Susan when we talked, and Susan always asked about my mom. I also didn't want to "bother" Susan, because through her amazing gift of friendship you either thought she was your best friend or you wanted her to be. I figured she had myriad people better than me to occupy her precious little time, and I didn't want to steal any time from her family. I didn't want to burden her with me, and in the end I realize that says a lot more about me and my feelings on friendship than her. There was never anyone more genuine, more upbeat, more empathetic, and more supportive than Susan. I realized too late how much I valued her friendship and her unique perspective on everything. How many times did I think, "I need to call Susan for advice," and then not call her? She had a way of giving advice that made you want to do it, that made you believe you could do it, yet never made you feel guilty you hadn't been doing it that way all along!

On one of the occasions I did ask her advice, because I asked as often as I hesitated, regarding marriage and how she and Doug had such an amazing relationship, she replied, "I don't know. He's kinda perfect." It was the only bad advice she ever gave me, because both Doug and I were already married! Her insight, wisdom, and commitment border on supernatural. It seems unfair that someone so gifted at helping other people had to be taken so young, taken away from us who could learn so much from her. Yet that enduring perfection must be the very reason she was called away so early, that she didn't need more time on this earth to accomplish her eternal goals.

Good-bye, Susan. I mourn what we have all lost by losing you, yet even in death you continue to motivate and inspire to me to become better, to not regret the opportunities lost with you, but to seek out every chance to befriend and support those around me. If I cannot find another friend such as you, I will try to emulate you and become that sort of friend to others, no matter how impossible. Because you helped me see what I could accomplish, and how the effort is more important than the result; your valiant battle with cancer proved that to me.

Halloween diet

Levi came home sick from school and didn’t get to go trick or treating, so I took my 3 daughters while Troy stayed home with him and the baby. Taya was a dead cowgirl, Olivia a mermaid, and Julia the frog princess with a lipstick smack on her cheek who forgot to wear her crown! And I am a princess too: can you figure out which one?

Now comes the difficult diet part of the year, even harder than birthday season in the summer! I want warm, mushy, comfort food, and we all know that's just a lot of high-calorie carbs that call my name and taunt me with their delicious temptations to over indulge even though I already stole most of my kids' Halloween chocolates and still have to save up for pie season where I call out for help to somebody please save me!

I'm sure I can weather the seasonal holiday storm with both my figure and my wallet intact just like I have every year. Except those years when I got fat. And set my credit card on fire. Not like that. One of those other good years!

What I need to do is eat what we ate for Halloween dinner, because although it tasted very good the thought of what it emulated made me pretty queasy and was a very effective appetite control. Black bat wings (chicken with black food coloring), slimy maggots (orzo pasta in cheese sauce), blood smoothie with mosquitoes (strawberry lemonade slush with raisins), bloody eyeballs (cherry pie filling), dried scabs (dried cranberries), brain (half a grapefruit), vomit (cinnamon apple sauce with dried apple chunks), and moldy slime salad (broccoli and carrot puree). Next year I'll invite you over too.

Always behind the camera, never in the photo

We needed family photos with ALL of us in it that did not involve self timers or any running! I found an Austin photography duo on Craiglist looking to expand their portfolio, and figured 5 small kids would give them some great experience working with large families! We wore pink for the girls and blue for the boys, but with all that pink we had to balance it out with blue jeans.

For family and commercial photography in the Austin area, LR Concept Photography

Am I allowed to post with no photos?

Frequently I don't blog because I don't have any photos to post. I tried Google to see if this was a rule, and apparently it's not. So I'm going to stop feeling guilty about a) not blogging more often because I don't have a photo to post with it, and b) blogging without a photo. After that, I'm going to find more things to not feel guilty about. I'm thinking of adding things to the list such as not cleaning my house because I have a newborn, making my husband clean the house because I have a newborn, (technically, he also has a newborn, but if we're looking at percentages here she's more my newborn than his), not making dinner because I have a newborn, not eating veggies because I have a newborn (any excuse to eat less veggies, and let's be honest: it's a lot of standing there chopping, and I need two hands for that. My left arm is on loan to my newborn), and writing grammatically incorrect extremely long sentences thinking that enough punctuation is a good mask for writing extremely long sentences that are grammatically incorrect. But while I tend to feel guilty for a lot of little things, at the end of the day I have to sit down, ponder, and come to the conclusion that yes, in fact, I am amazing. The whole woman, hear me roar, yada yada and whatever.

Updates, 'cause isn't that what blogs are about? Except that they're more about photos.

Emma: lost 8 pounds. Yay! Only 20 more to go. If you ask how I did it, just be prepared that you don't want to hear the answer. Diet and exercise. I count calories. I restrict calories. Yes, being skinny sucks sometimes.

Troy: lost more weight than me. He went on a diet for moral support, yet he's a dog and loses weight faster than me, which actually makes it harder for me to diet. At least he's eating all the veggies with me. I even taught him how to chop them efficiently like a real chef so I don't have to. One more thing to add to my less guilt list.

Taya: still growing. She even has pimples now. I'm hoping they get really bad right about the time we put braces on her, and that awkward phase lasts until right before she meets her future husband in college.

Levi: it's his birthday today! He is now 7 and hasn't been kicked out of first grade yet. Apparently the incidences of screaming and wrestling have gone down, and we've stopped getting so much hate mail. His birthday is the same day as his principal's, and when the school called to ask if they could put him on the morning video announcements about it, I saw the school name on caller ID and just cringed. I realized it's not always bad news, that someone isn't always in the nurse's office for a playground bump, or that someone isn't always in the principal's office because of poor behavior. Sometimes it's because they have the same birthday. At least once a year.

Olivia: loves kindergarten! She has the same teacher that Levi had last year, so the teacher's prepared for any shenanigans. Liv loves to "work it" with that "shy" smile and sit on everyone's lap and be the center of attention while pretending she doesn't want to be! She loves holding the baby, even if she's screaming, and considers it a badge of honor when she can get her to calm down. I need to bottle that.

Julia: is the BIG sister. She's as smart as a stinker. When offered two choices, she always comes up with secret choice number 3 and outsmarts us. When offered two choices, toddlers are supposed to assume those are the only choices and choose one! She knows we're dumber than she is and knows how to get her own way.

Zoey: started smiling! She still spends a lot of time smiling at the ceiling fan, though. Sometimes she smiles at us, and sometimes we think she's smiling at us until we realize the ceiling fan above our heads actually commands more attention and respect than we do. Still, it's cute. And I have photos of her smiling, I just haven't taken them off the card so I can post them because, you guessed it, I have a newborn. But they're coming. I promise. Stay tuned...

The 28th lives on

Today, while thinking "someone's birthday should have been today," I realized that we haven't broken our 28th streak after all.

We were married on Feb 28th
Taya was born April 28th
Levi was born Sep 28th
Liv was born July 28th

and then little Julia came along, born on time just to be difficult when it was the only time in history any mother WANTED be 8 days overdue, and "broke" our streak by being born on June 20th! We lamented she was SO CLOSE, if we say it fast enough the twentieth SOUNDS close enough to twenty-eighth. Or add just a little o on top of the zero to make an 8, so close!

But then arrives Zoey and saves Julia by being born on the 8th, so we could just split the difference between the two and keep our tradition alive. What a way to make her cool 08/08/08 birthday even cooler and redeem her sister in the process. My sister Jennifer asked me, "How do you keep doing this?!" I wish we believed in numerology, because then we'd be the luckiest people I know.

Because such things in life are of the utmost importance. Forget mortgages, world hunger, psychologically traumatizing our children with our poor parenting techniques. As long as our lucky number run of 28 stays alive, all is well in the world.

Photoshop is lonely

I've been working on the laptop for over a week now, which means all my photos and Photoshop are on my desktop and haven't been touched during that entire time! Wow, it's been really wonderful. I'm not working this month, so no student feedback to give, no photo shoots to proof (well, they are just waiting patiently for me), and no new photos to post on my blog!!! That's the only downside. I have TAKEN a LOT of photos, those are time sensitive with a newborn, but Photoshop will be there anytime. Hopefully it doesn't contact a divorce attorney during our separation as we hope to work things out and get back together someday.

Surely I will miss my little PS soon enough. For now, I just read a lot of interesting web sites, watched a LOT of Olympics on my DVR, and held the baby. A LOT.

Kanga, meet cuckoo Roo!

Tonight I got a call from my sister. Several of the girls were visiting my dad, and he mentioned he's going to call our baby, "Kanga."

Confused, they asked, "Kanga, like kangaroo? Why?"

His reply, "Because they named their baby Joey."

"JOEY?! It's Zoey! With a Z!"

He said on the birth announcement that cursive Z looks just like a J, it was an honest mistake, and that he didn't read the rest of the post to learn our fascinating reasoning behind the name, our spelling explanation, nor any other information relevant to a doting grandfather.

She told me, "He's sitting there in the chair with his arms crossed just beet red he's so embarrassed!" Well, he should be. For TWO WEEKS he thought his new granddaugther's name was Joey. Not that it's not a nice name, even for a girl, it's just that it's the WRONG name!

Mom was such a fun target to tease (I wonder where I get it from...), so it's so wonderful of Dad to fill in that role now. I just hope he can take it as well as he has always dished it out! Go, Dad: we love you and hope you continue to keep us entertained!

Top 5 Reasons pregnancy is easier than a newborn

5. I'm uncomfortable
- Uncomfortable? Try afterpains. For a 5th child. Now tell me how uncomfortable you are!

4. I can't sleep
- This one blows me away. How about 2 am feedings? 4am feedings. 5am feedings.

3. I want my body back
- Newsflash: now the parasite is just on the outside, still literally sucking away at you. And you may as well cut off your left arm for all the use you'll get out of it once you're hauling around the baby for the next, oh, six or twelve months.

2. I'm getting anxious
- I hate to break it to you. Nevermind, I love breaking it to you! If your pregnancy stress level isn't high enough, your newborn stress level will be an improvement, for sure.

1. I want to meet my baby
- I didn't get pregnant to stay pregnant forever: I got pregnant to have a baby! I didn't have a baby to complain about waking up in the middle of the night or comforting a crying infant. I had a baby to love and provide for. And while pregnancy is definitely a lot easier than being a parent, especially a parent to a newborn, nothing can replace those newborn snuggly days, that rewarding responsibility of caring for someone else's every need, that exultant feeling of accomplishment, or that first moment meeting the precious child with whom you'll share the rest of your lives. Somehow it doesn't feel like a chore, it's a joy. I love this little person more than seems possible. I love my baby!

Photographing newborns is really hard

They wriggle around and squirm and make noises and sometimes even messes, and just when you think you've gotten dad to cooperate, the baby starts doing the same thing! And then when I've caught all that tiny newborn goodness, I get of photo of an "unrolled" baby that looks MONTHS old rather than 5 days. At which point I start wondering how that enormous thing ever fit inside me, much less made it out somehow!

Try some sleeping shots, maybe they'll cooperate better? Until they wake up and start screaming and squirming!

Troy and Zoey 5 days old. Well, Zoey is 5 days. Troy is 34, I think. Years, that is, not days.

names and more names

Naming a baby is so hard for me. It's not just that it's difficult for Troy and I to agree on anything even remotely similar, but it's such a step of turning this perfect miracle in a real-life, normal, ordinary person. This is the fastest we've ever named a baby, mostly because I named our last baby, so Troy just picked out any name he liked for this one!

She was born on the opening day of the Beijing Olympics: 08.08.08, which is a very lucky day in China because the word for 8, ba, sounds so close to the word for wealth that many people believe the number 8 is linked to prosperity.

And it just so happens both of her names also have Greek origins.
Zoey: life
Nicole: victorious people (or victory for Nike, another Olympic reference?)

Troy wanted her middle name to be something like "fifth born" because Julia's middle name Tess is Greek for "fourth born." But Penta or Quinta were the only (awful) options we found. He said how about, "Nickel?" So we take a normal name, Nicole, and turn it into our own private source of humor. I think for Zoe, he just likes that name, and it meets all my criteria: something everyone has heard of, but don't really know many or any. Short, or has a good short nickname. Ends in a vowel like all of our other names do. And Most of us have 4 letters in our name, and we both like the spelling of Zoey better than Zoe. My "rule" is to spell things normally, the way they're supposed to be pronounced, nothing fancy or freaky. So in this case it's just easier to pronounce with the y on the end! Like our first child: Taya isn't spelled Téa because it was too hard to pronounce when spelled the "real" way.

When I made the birth announcement a couple of weeks ago (with blanks waiting to be filled in), Troy requested her Chinese zodiac animal be on there somewhere (year of the rat). At that time we weren't thinking anything about any Chinese traditions or Olympics, we didn't even suspect I'd go that overdue! So she gets a number 5 for 5th born and a little mouse hiding in there.

So there we have it! A named baby, it took less than 2 weeks (WOW for us!), and the little history behind it.

Baby Girl Powell is HERE!

Our new baby arrived this morning, 08/08/08 at 9:33am, 20", 7lbs 13 oz (Levi was bigger, but she is the biggest girl), at exactly one week overdue. Labor was about 11 hours, from 10:30pm-9:30am. The midwife showed up at 9am, and I was dilated to an 8. That was so frustrating because 8-10cm is the hardest part of labor. I was already exhausted and really getting discouraged. This was my first labor where I had more pain relief in a seated position than walking, so I sat in the tub for about 20 minutes. Suddenly, she just descended, and I had to push her out! I hadn't planned to deliver in the water, but at a certain point there's no turning back. She was incredibly purple and didn't cry much, but nursed really well and had a great heart rate and breathing.
We got to sleep a little, but now she is awake and just gazing around. Troy is enjoying his turn to hold her after all these months. Last night we went out for a walk (it's wonderful our oldest can now stay home with the other kids, so we put them all in bed and headed out). After coming home and going to bed, Troy rubbed my belly and kept telling her, "Come out, sweetie." Not long after I started having "real" contractions. I told him to go to sleep, and about 3am left our room to listen to an audio book, snooze a bit on the sofa, and walk around. The kids woke up to mommy in labor, and were excited to go play at their friends' houses and see their new sister when they come back home.
I'm so glad labor is over, and so glad to meet my new daughter, yet a bit sad that it's over. Giving birth is such a unique and amazing experience!

I'm in labor

I am such a slow poke! It's 3:20am, and I've been in labor since about 10:30pm. It's gotten to the point where I'm more comfortable walking around than lying down, so here I am trying to find something to do in the dark. Half of me keeps wanting to stall so I can get some sleep. The other half just wants to push the baby out and lie down and snuggle with her while we sleep! That moment is the best part of a home birth: crawling into my own bed with my tiny newborn, perfectly comfortable, and snoozing for a few hours.
But hopefully I don't stall, as I can hardly stand doing this again. Delivering a baby isn't painful, but labor is terrible. Not knowing how many more hours I have to endure is extremely difficult, mentally, and given my anxiety level going into it already, I need to be done! Maybe it'll be fast, maybe she'll be born on 08/08/08 and I can just go back to sleep!

Still pregnant

Now I'm overdue, which is fine by me, but I start to worry the more days go by as overdue babies start to develop health concerns as conditions inside their warm little home start to deteriorate. I have started poking at her regularly to make sure she's still moving around: a very quiet, still little one! If anything, I look slightly smaller now, tighter, as it's like there's less fluid in there now.
I had myself resting a lot the past 2 weeks, but now I'm up and around more, working out, cleaning, walking. My feet are killing me! I've never been one to believe one can affect starting labor, but bed rest must be effective if so many women have to do that to prevent pre-term labor! The opposite must also hold true, right?
It makes me so sad, trying to get her to come out. Reluctantly trying.

It's my DUE DATE!

It's my due date today: and as usual I waited until the last minute to get maternity photos taken! I set up my studio lights, and my friend and neighbor who has a camera similar to mine came over and took these using my camera. We got a few that turned out nicely! The family photos need some serious head swapping in Photoshop, as usual, but mission accomplished!

I'm not in a hurry for this baby to arrive, I am happy that I am still pregnant. There's nothing like it, and I want to stretch out every moment. I have the rest of her life to not be pregnant with her, so she can be patient if I can be patient.

On the other hand, I have never had this much anxiety before a birth. Knowing I'll deliver at home again, knowing there's no pain killer at the ready, and just having had a natural birth at home 2 years ago that is still so fresh in my brain means that I know exactly what I'm getting myself into! Every time I think labor MIGHT be starting, I get started freaking out! We are excited and nervous and all of those other emotions that go along with such a momentous event.