Wait, I've got to go check the Calendar.

I SWEAR there are several holidays between now and Christmas. I've grabbed the calendar to prove it.

Yep. Thought so.

October has HALLOWEEN... and the lesser celebrated Columbus Day (which I celebrate by SLEEPING IN, man, I love being a state employee) and let's not forget Leif Erikson Day. (On a side note, had it not been for those two men, we would be living in crowded flats in Europe and dentistry as we know it would be an unknown. I say we should a LEAST put out little boat decorations or something).

November has freaking THANKSGIVING and Veteran's Day.

So why, oh WHY, when I walked into the store today was I assaulted with little dancing snowmen and Santa's shaking their plastic rears to Christmas music??

What about the ghost and goblin crap? Maybe a turkey or pilgrims shaking their rear. Yeah, there was a whole aisle full of orange and black bagged candy, and yes, there were pumpkins for sale. BUT HONESTLY.

I see nothing wrong with starting to PLAN for Christmas. I've started rolling ideas around in my head, budgeting, you know, stuff like that. I have NOT however pulled the Christmas decor out of boxes, I have NOT started blaring "Jingle Bells" out of the stereo, and I DO NOT want to buy any Christmas crap right now. That's what you do in DECEMBER (and in our house, not until 1/2 way THROUGH December).

A 4 Year Old's Thought Process

So, on our commute home today, Evan asks me why Montana is so far away. And I try to come up with an answer that is truthful, easy to understand, AND will convince a 4 year old that I know what I'm talking about. No small feat in rush hour, stop and go traffic.

Me: Well, there's Utah, and it's pretty big, and then next is Idaho, and it's pretty big, and THEN you get to Montana.

Evan: What is Ig-ah-do?

M: Idaho is a place where people live, like you live in Utah.

E: Who lives in Idaho?

M: Remember Aunt Sara's friend Jessica? Jessica's sister Paige lives in Idaho.

E: Oh. *pause* Is Paige a girl or a boy?

M: Girl

E: Well, does a boy live in Idaho to kiss her?

It's a VEGETABLE!!!

So, yeah. I went grocery shopping today, and Harmons had their spoon roasts out and on sale. And you just can't pass THOSE up. So I rearranged my dinner menu for the week, and picked one up. And you can't have a roast without potatoes and, in our house, parsnips and rutabagas. All three items found their way into my cart.

As I was being rung up, the cashier pulls the rutabaga out of the cart. "What's this?" I was expecting it, I get that question a lot. I told her. "What do you do with it?" I roast them. "Oh, so it's like a meat??" No, it's a vegetable. "Oh."

A bag of carrots and a bag of onions later, the parsnips show up. "Are these Okra?" Umm, no... again, I was expecting to get asked what they were but I didn't ever think a long, white carrot- like thing would be mistaken for okra, but I kindly said, Parsnips. "Oh, those are those white crunchy things in Chinese food, right?" Umm, no, those are water chestnuts. "Oh, well what's a parsnip taste like?" I tell her it's kind of like a cross between a potato and a turnip, but sweet like a carrot. "Ohhhh, I like cherry turnips a lot, maybe I'll try one of these."

Um huh. And she wasn't even blond.

Time.

Seriously. Where does it go?

I wake up in the morning at 5:30. I exercise... sometimes, at least for a few minutes, but not nearly as long as I should be, I brush my teeth, shower, dress, hair, makeup... Somewhere in there, I make coffee, wake up Evan, cook breakfast, inhale my own breakfast while running in circles trying to get Evan's teeth brushed, Evan dressed, Evan AWAKE, Evan to eat, make Mark lunch, grab my own "whatever" for lunch. I leave the house for work at 7.

I drop Evan at daycare. I start work at 8. What I do for the next several hours has no bearing on my "life" other than it provides me and my family with insurance... oh, and a paycheck. I leave work at 4:30.

I get home at 5:30, if I'm lucky and traffic isn't too bad. I make dinner, I clean, I do laundry, I run errands (library, Wal-Mart, groceries, blah blah blah blah) all between 5:30 and 8. 8 means getting the boy ready for bed... that means brushing teeth, bath/shower, pjs, story, song, drink of water. In bed by 9. Then I get myself ready for bed... brushing teeth, washing my face, making the bed (yes, I make my bed at night), pjs, and asleep by 10 (if I'm lucky).

That's where my time goes.

When do I have time for doing the things I actually WANT to do... or NEED to do even?

Not that I don't want to sing Evan to sleep. I dread the day when that stops.

But I really want to read the new Harry Potter. I don't want to finish it, I don't want to grab snippets of minutes when I can read one page. I want to sit and be engrossed.

I need to finish two baby quilts, and one scrapbook. I've promised them to people. I am LATE.

I want to actually clean my scrap area... organize it. Get it out of the boxes. TOUCH and SMELL my supplies (and yes, maybe sniff the adhesive just a little!)

I need to make Evan a Halloween costume. It's "Tradition". (And I need at least 30 minutes to sit down and figure out how to MAKE it.)

I WANT to connect with all of my friends again. I seem to have been spinning out of control, and in a desperate need to simplify/SURVIVE, I have lost track of people I care about.

I NEED to clean CLEAN my house. Like hands and knees with a toothbrush clean. Not just quickly wipe things down and move on to the next chore.

I want to just PLAY with my son. I want to not look at him and see more work, I want to look at him and see someone I enjoy spending time with. Same goes for my husband.

Family Reunion... of Sorts.

Well, it was a gathering of family... some of which I see often, some I had never met.

This is everyone:

From left to right, starting on the back row: Wade, Johanna (my sister-in-law) and Shawn (her husband and my half brother), Shane, James; Me, Grandpa Arthur, Nancy (my mom), Steve (my Dad); Mary, Evan and Sara.

As usual at family get together, a lot of the time was spent playing various games (rummy, poker, Ticket to Ride, Cranium, and a few choice others). We found out that Grandpa Arthur is a card shark! He took all the boys for all their chips in a game of poker, and totally smoked Johanna and Dad in rummy.

Random pictures: (Okay, all the random pictures include Evan,)

Evan and I playing Power Rangers SPD (you can't forget the "spd" part, cause that totally makes a difference, or so Evan says).

Evan and his Aunt Sara during the "Great Underwear Fight".

Wade and Evan chillin' ... Wade is reading and Evan is playing with James PSP.

Evan and Uncle Shawn getting down and dirty.

Evan playing "golf".

It gets me everytime.

I guess that's good, it means I remember. But you would think after 6 years, I would not burst into uncontrollable tears every time I hear it.

There is a radio station here that plays the same tribute to Sept 11th victims every year. I can usually hold my own through the Alan Jackson song "Where were you when the world stopped turning" The tears start to form when they play Diamond Rio's "One more day" and the kids talk about the parents they lost... and then... There is a part of it where the Operator who took Todd Beamer's phone call is retelling her, and his, story. That's the part I completely loose it. Just the thought that there are people in this world that knowingly give their own life for the safety of people they don't know causes that lump to form in my throat, and my eyes to completely blur over with tears.

I know there were other people that day that did what they didn't think they could do... that gave all that they could... that lost everything. Todd Beamer is a face/name that represents so many of those people, because their are so many.

To grow up or not to grow up, that is the question.

Evan is having a dilemma. He's not sure if he wants to grow up.

The last week, this has been the conversation on our commute to school/work:

Evan: Mama, when I get big I'm gonna drive a FORD! (or whatever the vehicle fascination of the day is)

M: Really?? That what color?

E: But Mama, I'm not getting bigger.

M: Well, you get a little bit bigger everyday.

E: But Mama, I don't want to get bigger (queue the tears), I gotta stay little. But then I can't drive my ford.

M: Sweetie, it's okay, you can stay little as long as you like.

E: (Still crying) But I just gotta stay little.

(Then I have to try and figure out how to hold his hand, in the backseat, and maneuver through traffic without becoming part of the traffic report.)

Then this morning, I set him up at the table with chocolate milk and waffles. A cartoon on, and we have a fun breakfast. He asked if it was a school day, and I said NOPE! It's a play day. Just Mama and Evan (Mark had to run down to Fairview). He then announced that "Cartoons are for little kids, I'm DONE with watching this cartoon. Let's go play."

Roughin It.

Okay, want to know the truth? We don't rough it when we camp.

We have a camp trailer... with working "facilities". And running water. And electricity. Hell, my husband rigged up a solar panel to keep the batteries charged for life.

Mostly we camp to get away from the concrete covered city. We don't want to get away from toliets and showers.... and... well.... The TV keeps the babies happy when it's storming outside.

YES... that is a LCD FLAT SCREEN TV in our camper.

You have to understand... we normally watch movies at night on Mark's laptop (which, even though we're miles from everything still picks up wireless internet from somewhere). But, Mark got sick of the small screen, and the dark screen if you're not postioned just right... So on the way down this last weekend, knowing it was suppose to rain at least part of the weekend, he decided to stop at Wal-Mart. They were actually SOLD OUT of all the small NORMAL tvs, so my husband, who has wanted a new tv for our bedroom decided to go with the HighDef flat screen and swap it with the one in our bedroom after we got home.

I guess next weekend, when we take the crappy tv down, that will be roughin it.

Patience and Coals.

One of my favorite parts of camping is cooking. I'm not talking about hotdogs on a stick (however, those are mighty tasty), I'm talking about real food. I love using my dutch, my cast iron pans, and well, whatever else I think will work to make a wonderful meal for whoever shows up at our campsite. I've actually gained quite the reputation!!

I have to start the fire around noon to have enough coals to start cooking by two... and then I spend the whole afternoon shoveling coals, and stoking the fire. (Granted, when it was 90 out, that wasn't the high point, but I still had fun.)

Next to the fire pit, I have two large flat stones that are my base. (I threw my back out this summer moving the second stone into place, but I just needed the extra room. ) Coals go down on the stones, then the pans full of food (or just the food) then more coals. Then I shuffle and crack lids, and replace coal, and shuffle some more, add water, stir, replace coals, shuffle pans, etc etc etc, until dark. Then it's dinner time.

I can't imagine having to cook like that every day, but it sure is fun when I have no other worries!!