Kaboom: Story of an almost house fire

This week certainly started with a bang and hasn't let up. First of all, the kids, OK, my son opened the door onto my head the other day at full speed and I had a huge bump, now a nice green bruise that really hurts. But that's OK, nothing I can't live with. It's good to have some sense literally knocked into one's head now and again right? Another count-your-many-blessings moments happened this morning but it could have been a lot more disastrous than having one's head hit with a door.

This morning....a sock caught on fire. Yep, one little sock that almost burned the entire house down. It's a long story. But basically, because I dry my clothes on the line and do not own a dryer (and they are often still not dry the next morning with the cold weather), I sometimes throw a pair of socks in the microwave for say, one minute to warm them up for whomsoever's tootsies they will be covering.

Well, I did that this morning.....put a pair of the husband's socks in for one minute to warm up and I heard the timer go off and I just left them in there to sit for a moment. It sounds weird, I know, but it works (and I even put them on a plate just like food).

I went outside to bring in the rest of the socks to finish warming up in the house during the day, and I walked in to a house full of smoke and the kids saying "what is that smell?" Mr. Awesome (aka the husband) was running around looking for something on fire. He found it- in the shoe and sock basket.

A sock, like a glowing ember, smoking and literally singed with fiery red holes with the fibres burning and spreading, smoking more and more and growing into a flame. I grabbed the sock and carried it to the sink, turned the water on full blast and then drowned it in a full sink.

Mr. Awesome probably would have kept holding the burning sock until it caught his hand on fire- he one time set himself on fire in England while lighting a barbecue but that's a story for another day. He likes fire....a little too much and so do a lot of other English people I observed while living in England. There is a town not far from where we lived where people run through the streets carrying barrels on fire! I have no idea why; I should find it on Wikipedia.

Anyway, I'm guessing Lilz pushed the "quick on" button on the microwave again and started the socks smoking....and then she took them out and put them in the basket by the front door (she's really into putting things where they go) and once the oxygen/air hit the almost on fire sock it actually started to catch on fire. If we hadn't found it when we did the whole basket would have caught on fire....it was starting to burn a hole in the basket, and who knows from there what could have happened.

The basket with the little burned hole

I'm posting some photos to show all of this...because it almost sounds made up. But seriously, this is how life goes in our house. There's never a dull moment! It reminds of the time last year when Lilz put a plastic plate from her tea set in our real oven (I had no idea it was in there), I went to turn it on to bake a cake, the plastic melted and set on fire and we had to call the firemen for the first of many times now.

What remains of a once white sock

This morning after the sock on fire incident, Mr. Awesome said to us, "you guys are determined to burn this house down aren't you?" Ummm, no, we just have a very imaginative little girl who mommy obviously needs to watch like a hawk a little bit more.....because she of course must have inherited the pyromaniac gene from her British pyromaniac father. The microwave is now going to be unplugged unless in actual use by the way.

All I can say in closing is...thank goodness for small miracles.

Sick

...of being sick. That's me. I just got home from the doctor and I have strep throat, a sinus infection and an ear infection on top of the pesky thyroid tumor which is running my entire immune system down. Oh, and for pure joy I get to go get something done called a Thyroid Up Take Scan (they now want to do that before they will do a biopsy....they seem to have to do every ultrasound now known to man before actually testing the tissue). Our co-pay went up and they took an hour just to get me in the room (glad I picked the kids up early from school to take them with me) because they couldn't find my chart and then they couldn't find me in my insurance company's system. And they want to do more blood testing but they wouldn't do it today because I'm too sick....so I get to go back next week after I'm done with the anti-biotics. I would like a new body now please and thank you. I know it could be so much worse, but I just want to cry. I'm only 33 and feel about 100. The fun part (for real)? The kids blew up the medical gloves (well, I blew up the medical gloves) and played doctor....my son's was an alien of course, and my youngest one made hers a chicken. My oldest decided to deflate her gloves and play doctor this time. She said the alien had a skull fracture and the chicken's knees had infections....and she promptly looked in her medical book (i.e. Martha Stewart Living) for which medicines they all needed. My son sat and studied the anatomy books like they were the coolest thing ever. So all in all, if one of them becomes inspired to be a doctor or nurse, this will have been well worth it. Maybe they'll be the ones to finally heal me. :-)

Baby Number One

Mimi, whale watching, Dana Point, California Summer 07

Most of you are probably on Facebook with me so I apologize that this is a repeat- but I thought it was awesome thinking back to Mimi's birth almost 9 years ago. It's made me all nostalgic, so am turning it into a journal entry here on my blog. Just to explain- the reason I didn't want to tell Justin first is because we were living in a basement and he was working nights, we had just moved from England to Arizona and a baby was a bit of a shocker. Turns out though that he was soooo excited (obviously) and the day Mimi was born is the only day I've seen him actually cry (he teared up with the other two but not the streaming kind of tears like the day he held his firstborn daughter...my favorite memory ever). What a blessing it is to be a mother, whether we give birth or adopt or just nuture any child when others cannot or will not....it certainly is a miracle to behold. This morning, as I tried to comfort our now almost 9 year old first born begging me if she could stay home from school (because she's having trouble making a new best friend at her new school), I remembered so vividly holding her as a newborn, crying with colic pains and rocking her for hours, but being filled with joy to hear the screams because it meant that I was a mother. I would do almost anything to turn back the clock and go back to those days...it's true what they say, children grow up way too fast.

First Born Survey
Here you go mommies - a different kind of survey for a change - it's all about your first born! Just copy and paste it in a new note for yourself! Then tag some mommy friends! Let's see how much you remember!


1. WAS YOUR FIRST PREGNANCY PLANNED? Nope, I was on the pill and went sand boarding when I was about a month along and didn't know (and threw myself off a sand dune).


2. WERE YOU MARRIED AT THE TIME? Yes


3. WHAT WERE YOUR REACTIONS? Absolute wonderment and fright all rolled up together.


4. WAS ABORTION AN OPTION FOR YOU? Never


5. HOW OLD WERE YOU? 24


6. HOW DID YOU FIND OUT YOU WERE PREGNANT? I started having morning sickness morning, noon and night


7. WHO DID YOU TELL FIRST? Tricia or Tatiana, anyone but Justin


8. DID YOU WANT TO FIND OUT THE SEX? Yes, I found out on my birthday it was a girl


9. DUE DATE? 2 May 2000


10. DID YOU HAVE MORNING SICKNESS? on and off all day for a few weeks


11. WHAT DID YOU CRAVE? Papa John's plain bread sticks


12. WHO/WHAT IRRITATED YOU THE MOST? The pitocin drip to actually start the contractions- thought I was dying


13. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CHILD'S SEX? girl


14. DID YOU WISH YOU HAD THE OPPOSITE SEX OF WHAT YOU WERE GETTING? No


15. HOW MANY POUNDS DID YOU GAIN THROUGHOUT THE PREGNANCY? 10, I was so sick that I was skinnier after I gave birth than before (can't say the same for the rest of my babies)


16. DID YOU HAVE A BABY SHOWER? Yes


17. WAS IT A SURPRISE OR DID YOU KNOW? i knew


18. DID YOU HAVE ANY COMPLICATIONS DURING YOUR PREGNANCY? yes, she was late and the meconium leaked- when my water broke it was neon green.


19. WHERE DID YOU GIVE BIRTH? Chandler regional Hospital


20. HOW MANY HOURS WERE YOU IN LABOR? i arrived at the hospital around 2am and she was born at 5pm, so that was 15 hours just at the hospital but it was longer than that if you add in the home time. i pushed for 3 hours straight


21. WHO WAS THERE WHEN YOU GAVE BIRTH? Justin, the doctors and nurses and my mom somewhere


22. WAS IT NATURAL OR C-SECTION? Natural, my epidural had worn off because they wanted me to "feel" what i was doing- nice eh?


23. DID YOU TAKE MEDICINE TO EASE THE PAIN? For a while yes


24. HOW MUCH DID YOUR CHILD WEIGH? 6 lbs. 13 oz.


25.WHEN WAS YOUR CHILD ACTUALLY BORN? 5 PM on the dot, 9 May 2000, Dave Gahan's birthday which my sister was very excited about


26. HOW OLD IS YOUR FIRST BORN TODAY? 8 going on 80, she's an old soul like her mom.

Ode to...

.......Mr. Tanner.

Place: Dobson High, Mr. Turner's math class
Date: 1994
What: Inspiring Words that have never left me

Sometime this past week my oldest daughter decided to go through a box of my papers from high school and of course, they ended up scattered through out the house. Are you shocked? What else would my kids do with a box of my papers? It's a rule to throw them all over the place like a NYC ticker tape parade! She also had fun laughing at my old yearbooks and wondering why I wasn't a cheerleader, or should say scolding me for not being one.

So on Saturday I was hoovering (UK)/vacuuming (US) and my amazing new hoover (which actually works and does what it should) grabbed the corner of a paper sticking out from underneath my daughter's bedroom door into the hallway. See photo proof of how the piece of paper was almost completely destroyed.

I turned off the hoover and rescued the paper, of course I didn't know what it was but I never keep anything that isn't important so figured it was a birth certificate, or a first drawing or something equally as crucial.

But ironically it was actually something I was thinking about after I wrote my last entry about dreams. When I started asking in my last journal entry to start pondering about what happiness was, this paper was one thing that actually popped into my own mind. On this piece of paper were printed words that offered my younger self an early glimpse into what happiness should be, and from what sources it would never come from. As an adult the words mean more to me than they probably ever did to the 17 year old version of myself who originally held this piece of paper in her hands- an earlier version of myself who thought that by age 33 years old (a-hem, in other words by now) life would certainly be perfectly blissful all day every day, 24/7/365. This piece of paper contains some of the most awesome advice that a high school student could have ever hoped to receive- it is Mr. Tanner's "first day of math class" note.

For the record, I was, and am and will be forever more dreadful at math. If it weren't for my fear of math I would have become an oceanographer, or nurse, or architect, or any number of things that I wanted to be had it not been for my math struggles growing up. One time I even had a math teacher in junior high tell me that the left side of my brain must not have fully developed (at least he got fired for saying something so rude....I was a straight A student aside from math, but not because the left side of my brain never developed)!

I thought I would dislike Mr. Tanner based on the fact that I disliked math. Ended up I really liked him as a human being though and here is why, based on what he said to us in his note which reads:

"What is your passion? What is your dream? What drives you to accomplish that which no one else has? To be willing to stand up and make a difference in a society where people fear to be different? Are you one step ahead or one step behind the crowd? We cannot afford to waste our precious days for they will vanish as quickly as they come.

Will you be ordinary or extraordinary? Excellence has a price tag and many refuse to pay it.

Do you have a voice? Then speak out in the appropriate time. Use wisdom to guide your passion and reams to speak out that which burns in your soul. Let your tongue be set on fire to those words which are righteous and true.

Do you believe you were created for a purpose? Then set your sights on the things above and focus all your passion on that dream until you fulfill your destiny.

Will you be like the majority or the minority? Even if you lost everything but your life, your faith is more important than anything the world has to offer. Don't trade it in or pawn it off when times get tough or for the temporal pleasures of the world.

Never settle for second best for it will leave you like the rest. Easy paths are seldom fulfilling and often make crooked men. Take risks and soar above everyone else. Remember one final note. In all that you accomplish, keep your motives pure and never seek position or prestige. For by doing so you will the world by the motivation of love."

I don't know if Mr. Tanner actually wrote this, or if someone else did and he just loved the words as much as I do...but either way, I will always attribute it to him until I know someone else actually wrote it. My favorite line is about the idea of losing everything- and how faith is the one thing you can live with even with nothing else in the world. Maybe it's not just faith, but definitely love, family, friends and humanity of course. In this day and age, many of us are learning what is really important...the economy is stealing everything away from many of us. Suddenly the latest fashions, coolest gadgets and a brand new car every other year are things that many of us just cannot afford anymore, well, unless we don't want to put food on the table.

Mr. Tanner's note says it all to me really. Things in the end are nothing. Your outlook and the people you surround yourself with are really all that you can take with you in the end....and even if you don't believe you can take it with you (I do but know not everyone does), these are still the things that really make life worth living. It's probably illegal nowadays for a teacher to hand something like this out to students, sadly. Even if now, the state of the paper itself makes it look like could care less, the truth is that it's one of my prized possessions. I wonder if Mr. Tanner is still at Dobson?

Dreams..

Dreams.
What are they?
Can they be real?
Or are they meant to just inspire us to keep going and never give up?
Before I woke up this morning I had a vivid dream about a car crash. Not just a fender bender- but the type of crash where the car goes flying up in the air, spins and then lands plowing face first into the ground. That one is a dream that I hope to NOT experience in real life.
The past week or so, and in particular the past 24 hours I've been thinking about dreams in every sense of their meaning.
There are dreams that I actually dream...like the recurring one where I am running down a long dirt road lined with tall trees with something chasing me. I guess that would be more of a recurring nightmare.
Then there's the happy recurring dream of a peaceful newborn baby boy yet to be born (maybe he will be, maybe he won't and if not the three children I have give me more than enough contentment).
There are the dreams that I hope to live out....going to the Valley of the Kings, hiking Hadrian's wall, or simply tending to my grandmother's beautiful cactus garden until I am the age that she is now (coming up to a beautiful, spirited 85 years old).
There are the dreams of those I love, and whether or not I can ever help their dreams to come true and help them find joy.
Mainly I think about the dreams of my children.
And my dream for them- to always love and to be loved.
For myself, my own dream is simple.
I am not sure if all dreams come to life, but I hope this one will always be true:
My Dream = Happiness.

(Up next....what is happiness? Ponder for a moment if you will ).

Winston

Today, Winston Churchill has become the theme of my day so to speak. I just went on a walk with Lilz up and down Cherry Street and reflected on his life and my own. So I've decided to write up a quick history lesson about Sir Winston and put into words for my children something that they can learn from him. After that I will follow it up with just why I'm thinking of this hero of mine today. History is the subject nearest and dearest to my heart, but do understand that isn't the case for most people so I ask those of you who find it dreadfully boring to bear with me. :-)

History Lesson #1 for the Moore Children (and any other children who may stumble across this page):

Once upon a time, there was a very brave man name Sir Winston Spencer Churchill who was born in Oxfordshire, England in on 30 November 1874 . His father was a British aristocrat and his mother was an American heiress. He grew up to be a soldier, a war correspondent, a writer and painted many watercolors. He had a wife named Clementine whom he loved dearly. He later became a politician, elected to the House of Commons at the young age of 26. He later became Prime Minister. He was the wisest man around with very good insight into people's characters and had almost a psychic ability to predict what was down the road for the British Empire and it's allies including America. He could sense trouble brewing abroad before anyone else could or would even look at the situation. He saw trouble from Germany ages before anyone else did. Many people (naysayers) did not believe him and thought him to be a kook. Finally his fears started to become real and others began believing him when they saw the proof of the things Winston had been telling them all along. Because Winston spoke up, he ended up saving most of the westernized realm on earth from that evil man named Hitler. But if people would have listened to him sooner, England may have not been bombed and a lot more of Hitler's victims may have been saved. Winston Churchill then went on to become a hero to many and defined what it means to be a true Statesman by following his instincts and not giving up.

Moral of the story: listen carefully to and use your own instinct, observe things that others may choose not to see and speak up for what you know is right until you are heard.

Why am I reflecting upon the life of Sir Winston Churchill today? Well, last night I had decided to give up...not really give up but just stop thinking about all the things worrying me that are out of my control.... things I cannot change or make go away such as my thyroid tumor, food prices going up, the economic woes circulating around the globe, people losing their jobs, various wars, famines, world peace, if Yellowstone is going to erupt. You name it, I was thinking about it and wanted to fix everything which is ridiculous as a lot of that is literally out of my control and has nothing to do with me.

Of course I did have stuff going on that did have to do with me. I had gotten really tired after getting rid of the Christmas tree as mentioned in yesterday's post and the kids came home and acted as though I had kicked a member of the family out of the house (and immediately tried to drag the tree back into the house), poor little King Caed was crying last night because apparently nobody would play with him at recess (and anything I did or said gave him no comfort at all which made me feel awful), the Husband was missing England of course, Mimi was going on about a week long luxury trip to Disneyland she'd like to take complete with room service and then got sad because she misses her old school and old friends (not that she doesn't like her newer school and the new kids but she misses having close girl friends nearby to play with every day and spend the night once in a while). I just felt defeated so....

....I changed my Facebook status to read "Hilary...gives up." Kirsten, sister extraordinaire not just her own sisters but to me as well (I sometimes like to pretend I'm a McNelly sister)commented that Churchill would be sad (that I was giving up) and abracadabra, Winston was first and foremost in my thoughts.

Mainly I was thinking about all the responsibility he had and all the worries that must have plagued him during the rise of Hitler...imagine feeling that terror and responsibility to protect so many people yet having nobody believe you? Talk about having things to worry about!

It made me feel oh-so-sheepish and just a little bit insignificant when I thought my "giving up" stance last night. I do have legit things to be concerned about of course like we all do but as usual, things can always be worse. I mean, the title of my blog is based on the fact that my life has had many ups and downs like a hill; it just so happens that my name can be used as a play on words for the idea of having a hill-like existence. But I created this blog to be my happy corner in the online universe to dedicate to life's little things that matter (and big ones of course as well) and that is precisely what thinking about Churchill has done...reminded me of the little stuff like listening to your heart and sticking to your guns and seeing the big picture.

And another little thing, it's time for Lilz's lunch as usual this time of day. Grilled cheese maybe, yet again?

For anyone else out there today feeling like life isn't the best right now, remember, as Churchill said, "Never, never, never, never, never give up." (To learn more about his life, click on the Winston title).

And today....

...I will be playing the role of Zombie Mom.....with black circles under my eyes that are real ones, not make up ones and a washed over pale look that would give any ghost some good competition. I seriously need about 8 years of sleep, I think that last good night of sleep I got was on 7 May 2000, the last full night I had before being in labor, or having a newborn to feed, or child to care for in some capacity. I'm not saying I'd trade the kids (never, for anything in the world) and really I don't miss the actual sleep- just all the fine health and good looks (OK, not to say I was ever good looking, but at least I once upon a time didn't look like The Corpse Bride all the time) that go along with a woman who gets some ZZZ Zs.

The weekend was fabulous, and really bad, all rolled into one.

Fun and Good stuff: my birthday. Words cannot say how happy I was to see 32 go into the pages of history. Not happy to be older, but am happy to have survived to be 33! Hubby got me some beautiful flowers with a sweet personal note (pictures to come) and mom got me and the kids Zoolights tickets (pictures to come). Mr. Moore also got me some black forest cake which is still sitting unopened in the fridge....maybe tonight we will have time, or will feel like eating a piece to celebrate.

Bad Stuff: Caed got the flu big time from Mimi and threw up alll over the carpet Saturday night, which I got to scrub of course. It also meant I stayed up all night Saturday with him with a bowl standing at the ready and I got no sleep, at all, OK, maybe half an hour. King Caed missed Zoolights which was sad because it was meant to be a night out for his birthday and mine (we are 5 days apart). The cool thing about it is I brought him home a cool pirate light up sword to make him feel instantly better and he took to the new role with gusto....whirling the sword in the air upon it's arrival home to him complete with metal clinking sound effects (minus the other sword that it would need to hit to actually make a sound like that if it were indeed metal and not plastic).

So back to the no sleep. I really miss it. If I had time I'd look up all the problems one can have from sleep deprivation I am sure some would apply to me. If only evolution was really what (some people think) it's cracked up to be.....because if it were 100% true then I (and all other mothers like me who can't hold it together perfectly like June Cleaver) would be able to manage this sleep deprivation thing without anyone noticing, not to mention I'd have 10 arms, x-ray eyes in the back AND sides of my head, supersonic hearing and I'd be able to read everybody's minds so that I could know way ahead of time about why they are in a mood and what I could do instantly to save the day (or night). Where is Charles Darwin when you need him to explain why human mothers have not adapted appropriately!?

But when I look at that picture of Caed as a baby way up there I could never say that he, and my other two aren't worth it. They are definitely worth lack of sleep, and more. They are getting older though and am sure in a few years from now I'll be bemoaning the fact that they won't want or need mom anymore. Although sometimes I miss the days when I could sleep in till noon, I then remember that I can sleep when I die; we only live (and have babies/small children) once.