Something New

Okay, so I'm taking Lucky Candice's advice, and posting about something new. I am going to apologize in advance that it's still not very deep, BUT at least it's something new.

First, I wanted to post a YUMMY, easy recipe that is on our menu weekly:

Newman's Casserole:

1 lb. ground beef

Whole Wheat Pasta

Bag of Frozen Broccoli

Spaghetti Sauce (we use Prego Traditional)

Grated Cheese (we use mild cheddar)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Brown hamburger. While it's browning, boil water in two separate pots for the broccoli and pasta. Drain grease from burger and pour a little spaghetti sauce in there and let simmer for a minute or two. Drain pasta and broccoli; make sure the water is gone or it will make it runny. Put hamburger on the bottom of the casserole dish. Then layer the broccoli and pasta (mixed together). Pour more sauce on top of that (a lot!) and then cover with grated cheese. Bake at 350 for 25-30 minutes.

Second, I have some advice that was passed on to me by my cousin Nan who has six young kids: Do one load of laundry every day and fold it and put it away each day. Then it never is overwhelming. I know that seems simple, but I am a schedule girl:

Sunday: coupons and grocery list

Monday: floors; wash all towels

Tuesday: grocery shop

Wednesday: Major cleaning of one section of the house (on a rotation)

Thursday: wash all bedding

Well, I used to only do laundry on Mondays and Thursdays (when I do the towels and bedding). That left me with a mountain of laundry that I dumped on my bed and folded and put away for hours once the kids were in bed. Now I still have a little more on Mondays and Thursdays, but doing one load a day is NO big deal and it has made my life easier.

Let me know if you have advice! And, let me know if you try my recipe!

Okay, that's it!

Girl Stuff

I always wanted to have boys. I have no idea why...I was a girly-girl growing up. I loved my Barbie dolls until I was fifteen. I loved playing jump rope, dolls (of all kinds), dressing up, every genre of dance, etc. My dad tried to toughen us up. I took golf and tennis lessons. He coached soccer and softball, just so I'd play. The problem was...I had already danced for six years before I tried sports, and I wasn't very good.

(My Girly-Girls)

Fast forward to high school...I was still a girly girl. Dance ruled my life, but I was an OUTDOORSY girl. I still wasn't that great at sports, but I was the official family lawn girl and then I found mountain biking, camping, hiking and white-water river rafting...and I was hooked. I am sure I was the only Dixie Rebelette that spent the weekends biking "the loop" with all the dorm boys and pursuing a degree in secondary teaching, but dreaming of giving it all up to be a river guide on the Snake. (Guess what? I still do.)

(These are photos from the High School Musical 2 Party that I had...yet, another "girl thing" THAT I LOVED!)

Anyway, I digress... I wanted BOYS. When Amelia came along, I was so happy to have my long-awaited baby, that I didn't care that she was a girl. Then, I got pregnant again, and I wanted A BOY! And then my sweet Mikayla came along. Well, I just knew that they would be athletic and tomboyish and would NEVER dance or heaven forbid, become a cheerleader. Well, it didn't happen. Now, my girls love camping, getting dirty, and just tonight Amelia picked a roach out of the gutter just to hold it, but they LOVE everything else girl...dress ups, make up, fashion, dance, and yes, cheerleading. Sigh...what's a mother to do?

But, I have a secret to tell...I love being a mom to girls. I love it all. I get exasperated by it all, but man, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'll take it all...the make up that has permanently stained the playroom carpet, the whining and crying, the fashion problems we have each morning, and the fact that my daughters would rather be cheering than playing. I love it...because I love them.

Kindergarten!

My baby started kindergarten yesterday. Seriously, how in the world can a mom be expected to thrust her child into the classroom of a stranger and leave her for EIGHT HOURS, five days a week and just trust that she's in good hands and that she'll be okay? It about gives me a nervous breakdown, seriously. Does this mean the time has finally come that others will have more influence on her than I do?

Okay, so she was excited, and Dave and I both walked her into her classroom and she ran ahead of us and sat down before we got to the door. She wouldn't hold my hand and she was all smiles, so I guess that means she's happy. But after school she was exhausted. She didn't talk a whole lot and just told me that they took away the folders Aunt Chellie gave her and that the kids kept stepping on her shoes. But then she told me she had a great day.

While she was gone, Mikayla got some one-on-one time with Mom that she desperately needed and the girls got a break from each other. I got so much done around the house and still had a BLAST with Mikayla. Here she is helping me peel potatoes for dinner.

I checked Amelia's schedule on the fridge at least every fifteen minutes, just to see what she was doing. I missed her like crazy! BUT, from the second she got home, I had nothing to do, except for hold her, love her and go into the playroom and tickle her back and watch the movie with her.

I know she'll do great. I know the kids will love her as much as her preschool friends did. I know the teachers will see what a good girl she is, but for now I'm sending her off to the unknown, and I'm not sure she's too happy about it, or me either.

I Love Josh!

I'm sad today. I'm sad and happy and proud and excited and scared and everything else. Joshy is leaving on his mission TOMORROW...well, to the MTC. I just want to be there to say good bye. I miss him already. It's funny because we live clear across the country right now, but it's different. I know he'll be gone for two years. Today Amelia called him and left a message and said, "Joshy, when you get back I'll be eight and we're all going to go on a Disney Cruise!" The thought of her being eight before I see him again made me want to cry.

Anyway, he is such a great kid. He just turned nineteen three days ago. He is mature, talented and good-hearted, and will be an amazing missionary. I love you Joshy.

And to end my rambling of mixed emotions, I have to tell you a funny Joshy story: When Josh was about seven, Dave and I were "babysitting" the rugrats: D and Joshy. We weren't even married yet and Dave seemed to forget that little Josh was the little brother of three GIRLS, and had maybe not experienced the big brother type games. He introduced "Hot Box" (a made-up game that just allowed the Marsh boys to pummel each other without getting in too much trouble). He then proceded to give Joshy a bloody nose just minutes into the game. After instructing both of them to not say a word to our mom and dad, we got the blood stopped and the mess cleaned up. As soon as Mom and Dad walked in, Josh screamed, "You'll never guess what happened to me!!!!"

Another of my favorite Joshy stories is the time that Josh was probably about ten and we decided to take D and Josh to a Drive-in movie. Well, after traumatizing the children by putting them in a Geo (they were only used to big cars and were scared to death), we introduced them to the fact that Chaun and Dave are cheap....I mean, frugal. Before entering the movie, we made the kids lay down on the floor of the backseat and covered them with sleeping bags and got them into the movie free. How dishonest was that? At the time, we were just trying to save money. Anyway, we treated them to a fabulous movie night, but when we got home all Joshy could tell is how we sneaked him into the movie.

That's my brother: true, honest, and good. I love you Joshy!

I wish I could have posted a picture from our last trip, but I hate Kodak Easy Share....all of my photos have been transfered on to that, and I can't post them on my blog.

Eleven Years

Happy anniversary to the man that I love more than anything in the world! I've already done some mushy-gushy blogs about Dave, so here are eleven little-known facts to commemorate our eleven years together:

1. Dave and I met in 1993 and weren't married until 1996. Dave, as always, is methodical and thorough in making all of life's major decisions.

2. The dress that I wore to the temple my first time is the same dress that Napoleon Dynamite's date wears to the prom. It was also my bridesmaid dresses but in green. I'm so proud.

3. We spent the first three years of our marriage WITHOUT the following: a washer, a dryer, a toaster, a dishwasher, an electric can opener, a microwave, and more.

4. I've been given flowers approximately fifteen times in eleven years. But what he lacks in frivolous gift giving, he makes up for in other romantic ways. Just this morning I said, "Happy Anniversary!" And he replied, "Peace out, Bay-buh!"

5. I out-eat my husband at each and every meal and finish about three times faster.

6. I have out-weighed my husband by at least 50 pounds during two glorious times in our eleven years.

7. Sometimes Dave makes me laugh so hard that I pee. And sometimes I get so mad at him for making me laugh that I yell at him, which is a dumb thing to do when it's just funny.

8. Dave thinks he dances like John Travolta and isn't afraid to show people. I love to dance with him --no inhibitions! I just have a hard time not leading...and offering advice.

9. Dave has no idea just how good (and smart) he really is: at work, as a husband, as a father, as a brother and son, as a friend, and that's what makes him so endearing to everyone.

10. Dave can play songs using gross bodily functions...and they are loud, like a tuba. The girls think it's cool too, so I hope that a family orchestra isn't started some day.

11. I live every day knowing that I married the man who completes me. He understands me, loves me and puts up with me. He is MY everything.