I hear people say all the time that the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over and expect a different result. By this definition I have come to the conclusion that I am, in fact, insane.

Let me explain:

Every day I wake up and tell my kids to get dressed, eat breakfast, do their hair and brush their teeth. I expect them to do it. They don’t (at least not without some serious threats.) Yet, every day I tell them to do the same thing expecting that they will. I am Insane.

Every time that I wash laundry (a chore that makes one seriously insane just by itself) I assume that I am ‘done with laundry’ once it has been washed, dried, folded and put away. I even go so far as to say out loud that I am done with the laundry, or make a line through it on the horrible to do list. And at some point during the same day, sometimes even moments after I complete (or think that I complete) the retched task, there is more laundry to do. But I expected that since I have done it all day that I am done with it. I am insane.

I have this theory that one day I will clean my house and it will stay clean for more than an hour. It never does. But I still expect it to each time that I clean my house. I am insane.

There is this certain child that I have who I am convinced is the pickiest eater on the face of the planet. He shall remain nameless, but I will give you a hint: he is 5 and his name starts with A and ends with nderson. This child complains about 90% of every meal that I prepare for him. But I still cook the same thing and serve it to the boy expecting that he will eat it. I am insane.

I frequently go to the Walmart and with me are 3 little tag alongs most of the time. I can verbally tell them each time that we are driving to the store that we will not be purchasing toys today. I threaten them that if they ask for said toys at the store that I might just leave them there with a for sale sign attached to them. I expect them to listen. But still every time that we go the Walmart, there are tears, and pleads and bribing that occur because of the toys that will not be purchased. I am insane.

You see, I am insane. That is only a few examples of the insanity that I indulge in. If I think about it more then I am certain that there are more examples of insanity that I could share with you.

I am not the only insane person in my house, either. My boys, each one of them, ask me every day if they can stay home from school for no reason other than they want to. Each day they expect me to say yes.  And each day when I say no there are massive fits (this intern makes me insane because I expect there will not be a fits each day.)  They are insane.

Said trips to the Walmart where toy purchases are banished and yet they expect me to give in. They are insane.

Baby girl continually throws fits and screams to get her way. We are (trying) to ignore her and (mostly) do not give in to the pig squealing, but she constantly screams expecting to get her way. She is insane.

Kevin, who for this instance will be called the ‘baby whisperer’ tries to calm baby girls fits by whispering in her ear, sh, shhh, shhhhh. She escalates her fits when he does this (I am waiting for her to turn around and punch him dead in the face one of these times.) He expects that she will calm down. Never has (nor will it ever) happened. He is insane.

Spouse also has this habit of putting important things in random places. I call it the “stupidest place imaginable syndrome” We find his belts hanging off the hinges of doors, socks in the bathroom closet on top of the towels, keys in the freezer, phones balanced on top of molding- you get the point. He puts these things in these random places and he expects that he will be able to find them, or remember what it was that he was looking for on this particular instance. He is insane.

See, I am not alone in my insanity. We all have degrees of it.

I should check myself into a loony-bin.

You know what is really insane?!? That sound like a good break to me.

ALRIGHT!!!!!!!!!
I am doing it. I am not happy about it. There are people all around me that are telling me that it is way past time.
So FINE.
You win.
I am weening Kenaley.
 I decided that it is time today during Sacrament meeting in church today. It has been sometime coming though. She has been doing this thing that I call 'jungle gym nursing.' She tries to nurse and crawl all over me, stand up and nurse, watch TV and nurse. I don't like it. At all. So there's that. And then theres the fact that I swore that every time my babies learned where and how to get the milk, they were done and that happened about 3 months ago. And then the fact that Kenaley will start to nurse and stay on just long enough for my milk to drop and then get distracted and pull off and get the both of us soaked.
It. Is. Time.
But that still doesn't mean that I am happy about this.
There is the fact tha I am still nursing little bug about 11 times a day (the 24 hour day, not just daylight) And stopping nursing when I am producing that much milk is going to be PAINFUL!!! to say the least. Then there is the whole thing about her being my caboose and this is the last time that I will get to nurse my babies, a part of bonding that I love. And then there is the fact Miss Kenaley likes to scream when she doesn't get her way. At 1 am, and 3 am, and 5 am. LOUD. Like a baby piglet. The kind that makes your spine hurt. And the sure fire way to get her to stop is with nursing. Then theres thing where I gave her milk for the first time in her little life today out of a sippy cup and she tasted it, made a horrified face and let it drool out of her mouth like I was poisening her.  But worst of all, KEVIN!!! Weening him of the fact that I can instantly quiet the beast is going to be most difficult of all. especially when it is 1 am. And 3 am. And 5 am. And for that matter 9 pm, when she is so unbelieveably tired that she screams becasue she doesn't know what else to do with her mouth unless it is occupied by a boob. I am not looking forward to the next week. Chocolate, Pepsi and Advil are going to be my best friends.

You know what, while I as writing this I am thinking that maybe I jumped the gun. Maybe I am not ready for this. Maybe she is not ready for this. Maybe I should revisit this whole weening thing later in the future. Like in another year.

This morning as my infant daughter pulled off her own (poopy) diaper and attempted to climb into the shower with me, but more so kind of slid in head first, streaking behind her. I though to myself: when was the last time that I took a shower by myself, let alone an uninterupted shower. LONG. Then I started thinking when was the last time I got to eat my entire meal without sharing a bite or while it was still warm. Go to the bathroom? Drive somewhere with out buckling/unbucking a carseat? Go to the grocery store and not buy something that the kids would love?
My life is filled with kid. And although they climb poopy-bummed into my shower, eat my food, make messes of my once clean house, and occupy so much of my day; they also come running over to me wide armed for a hug. Open mouthed for a kiss. Tell me I love you just because. Tell me that I can have half of their candy. Draw me pictures and make me lego creations. Tell me that I am the best cook in the world. Say that they are glad I am their mom. Let me take love-bites of their neck chops. Allow me to pinch their chubby-fuzzy-naked bottoms. Confide in me their deepest darkest secrets and tell me not to tell dad.

I will trade my once private (poop free) showers, and warm meals to myself, and clean house for naked bottom pinching and chubby cheek kissing.

Good Trade.

Today my day went kind of like this: wake up, lay in bad for a full hour trying to convince myself to get out and face the freezing cold floor, rush to get kids ready for school, do the dishes, make an enjoyable breakfast for my younglings, get myself and my princess ready for the day, recall that I have visisting teaching to do about 20 minutes before said apointment, go to the bank and give away my money, go to the store and buy shoes for Kevin (SIDE BAR: Shoe prices are out of control!!! I remember paying $19 for the exact pair of shoes that I purchased for spouse today for $40!!!! CRAZY!) Pick up boy #2 from school, make lunch for the boy/princess, make lunch and visit with spouse-complain about shoe prices, go to Home depot and DI to hound for a new dressser project, pick up boy #1 from school,  force homework upon my children, sell pink dresser, make dinner, start new dresser, get kids to bed, blog.

It really seems like a lot for one little persson right? But here's the thing: in the middle of those things I believe that I went on facebook about a dozen times, nursed a  baby (who is on her last days of nursing- very unwillingly by both of us) a few times, probably ate a few pounds of chocolate and a peanut butter sandwich, and attempted to clean some of the many messes that occured in my house today. 

I feel like I did nothing.

WHY!!?!?

Well, while I sit here and type my thoughts out, I realize that it is because I haven't done anything for myself. I used to be really good at "self time" but have found that lately I really have been cutting myself short on that thing that used to keep me a happy mom. Maybe I have found new ways to keep myself happy. I do find great pleasure in painting a dresser and getting tons of phone calls telling me how badly so many people want something that I have done. And I also think it is so fun to make bracelets and hairbows for baby girl. But honestly, what I used to LOVE and spend every free second that I had doing, I cannot bring myself to do lately: Scrapbook. I am kind of bummed about this fact. I really want to get caught up (I used to be only 1 month behind before princess came, now I am about 1 year behind) and I really want to have memories on paper for my kids to look through. I am beside myself that I don't want to do it. So I have conclided that I have too many hobbies and scrapbooking is too time consuming and isn't appealing to start something that I will not have the time to finish that is why  I turn to bows and blogging and bracelets.   Maybe someday I will get my groove back and I will be able to post the awesomeness of my pages that I used to be able to create.
I need some inspiration.
Anyone???

Two weeks flew by and I feel like the only thing that I have done is set up new laptops. Thats right- plural. New laptop number one turned out to have a junked disc drive, which I thought to be strange since I got it to download my photo software that was on a disc. After that, notta. It was sadly brought back to BestBuy where I swapped it for a different one. New brand. Got that one home, reloaded said photo software, asked husband to download all the stuff that he said he backed up from my first new laptop. Couldn’t find it. (Enter weak in the knees, room spinning throw up kind of feeling) Oh- did I mention that the laptop that I have used for a year that had my millions of pieces of me in the form of data now belonged to the other wife and she demanded that it be swept of any sign of me?!? So, to recap: Husband took old laptop and swept it, said he backed up the 1000+ pictures and 50+ documents that were on it to the Ebook (external hard drive), also said that he backed up the new laptop before I returned it. But. It. Is. Lost. I spent an afternoon searching for anyway to find this information finding multiple dead ends. Husband came home from work (and although I warned him that if he were to come and face the wrath of me he better come with flowers and chocolate and Pepsi, he took his chances empty handed) And he got to work on it, too. He managed to find the back-up of the old laptop and put all the pictures (in their original unedited form- hours of work I had done) on the 2nd new laptop. I began re-editing pictures so that I could finally hand off the wedding pictures to their rightful owners. Get it done, go to put them on a disc….DISC DRIVE DOESN’T WORK!!!! Are we seeing a pattern here? Husband assumes that my photo software is somehow ruining the path to my disc drive. We go back to BestBuy- who are now looking at me like I am some kind of  cyber criminal, and get yet another new laptop- which I am now typing on. We threw the photo software in the garbage and have success with this disc drive thus far. Husband is very jealous that I got to try to have out 3 different laptops in a month. I have other feelings.

Adventure #2: Sedation dentistry for Anderson.

Wednesday morning, 6am. I get up and prepare myself in anyway that I can for what I am going to face. Let me back up a little bit.  Anderson is a JOY to bring to the dentist. He is the lucky owner of a gag reflex that does not allow us to even get x-rays of his teeth without getting thrown up on. My kind dentist has been watching his teeth as closely as he can without the valued x-ray.  About a month ago, Anderson had a tooth that was bugging him so bad that he didn’t want to eat. At all. We brought him in and he needed a root canal on one of his back molars. My fantastically lovely child screamed (and when I say screamed I am not talking about girls in a horror movie scream- I am talking about full on ‘ how does this kid hit those octaves that  can make a grown dentist and assistant and mother want to rip their ears and spinal cord off because it’s the kind that make your back hurt too. ) for the full 2 hours that it took to fix that one tooth. Ugly. I thought he was going to dehydrate.  Dentist says that there are probably more teeth that need to be fixed- but he recommends sedation. I am sold before he finishes the sentence. 2 weeks- knock him out fix them all. Deal. Anderson gets influenza the day before he is scheduled. We reschedule.

Morning of the event, the boy is not allowed to eat or drink after midnight the previous night. This is the first battle I face. I wake up Logan who needs to get ready for school and instruct him not to wake up the beast that soon will be. He fails to listen and wakes him. Anderson requests (who are we kidding- demands) juice and I explain to him that he cannot have it. He begins his first fit. We somehow manage to drop Logan off to his friend’s house to go to school, and Anderson and Kena and I are off to the dentist. They give the 3 magical medicine to the boy and then explain to me that the way it works is that he will get super wild and then all the sudden crash. Literally. Should take about 20-30 minutes.

We go into a small room with a couch, bean bag, blankets, pillows, a TV and for some unknown reason a tile floor for the kids who are literally going to fall over mid-step to land on. One  hour and 20 minutes later, Anderson is still going strong- wild as can be, dizzy and very frustrated that he is spinning around, but just as wild as that time when he ate all my ‘bad day chocolate stash’ (that story is for another day people.) I am coming face to face with the fact that we may have to do all this tooth work on him while he is awake and aware. I now wish that I was the one that got the magic combination of sedation medicine. The nurse walks him over to the dentist chair and puts laughing gas on him and miraculously he is out. Cold. We thought. Get x-rays, he is fine. Start to numb his teeth with a shot- he is up and screaming.  They stop for a few minutes and let him fall back asleep and thankfully finish all the teeth without a peep from the boy. The last thing they have to do is a cleaning. He wakes up and fits. We skip the cleaning. Manage to leave the dentist office without throwing up- me or him- and without him falling into anything. Dentist tells me that the medication lasts a long time and it is normal for him to sleep for a long time- some kids sleep for 12 hours. I am thinking that I am finally going to get mine, for making it through this day and I will have a quiet day to recover from the ordeal. I was wrong.  He was up and ready to go to Build-A-Bear before we even got on the highway to go home. I convinced him to go home and let the ‘dizzy’ go away first and then we would go. He did not retreat when we got home. He tried to tell me that he was not at all dizzy while he was standing up holding the wall to balance his wobbly body (all this while he is drooling slurring his words due to a very numb mouth.) I finally give in and take the boy and run all the multiple errands that I was certain I would not do that day. All the while he is just as wired as can be.

The moral of the story is this: When you are told that a crash and burn is to come within a certain time period and it fails, do not expect it later when you are wanting it to happen.

So there you have it. That is the adventures of my week in a nut shell.

Until next time

So I am one of those people who rarely shares my favorite recipes becasue if you have the recipe then you won't come over and eat with me any more- and I love few things more than food and conversation. But I have felt so inspired to share with you my recipe for pancakes. It took many trial and error batches to perfect this pancake batter. This very recipe  was used at PJ's and Pancakes for primary this year. It ROCKS!!!
IHOD  (Inviting House Of Danyelle) Pancakes
1 1/4 c flour
1 egg
1 1/2 c buttermilk
1/4 c sugar
1 heaping tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 c oil
1/2 tsp vanilla ( I only ever use Molina Vanilla- Its a Mexican Vanilla)

Stir it all up and cook them in a hot pan either greased or sprayed with non-stick spray.

We frequently add fresh blueberries to them when we are cooking them, don't add them to the batter in the bowl as they will sink to the bottom and only the last few will have blueberries- just drop a few onto the pancake while it is cooking.
May I also suggest my favorite way to eat them: Butter it and add fresh whipped cream. No syrup- I am not a fan.

You can thank me later.

If I get nice comments I may just share with you my most prized recipe of .....well you'll just have to wait and see.

I decided that since I just re-did a little part of my house- the boys room and SO many of you have never seen my house I decided to give you a little tour of some of my favorite things in my house…

This is the sign that sits above my scrapbook desk. It inspires me, well its supposed to.

My livingroom wall,  with my favorite most current pictures of my favorite kids.

My collection of family sculptures that sits on our mantle made of what used to be our 110 year old roof.

Our little reminder over our hall tree.

The shelf that I made on the edge of my kitchen,. 

The ever growing wall of frames that goes up my stairs. There are about 50 pictures so far.

The boys new decor; complete with a real grenade, 50 cal bullet, ammo box, a been-through-war-helmet and duffle bag.

The little tiles that I made in my bathroom.

A piece of the beach in my room.

My babies blessing clothes and when and what they were blessed for.

The best part of giving you a tour this way is that you don't see the mess!!

Okay, so I got some feeling back in my finger tips and I think that my brain will cooperate enough to type my days' thoughts.
I went to church today. I love church.  I love dressing up my baby girl in pretty little dresses and my boys in handsome suits and going to be spiritually fed and renewed. Today I especially loved church. Kenaley looked so stinking cute in her little petti-skirt and I just love watching her walk in that thing...she has no visible legs under all that fluff and I just adore the little sway that it makes when she moves. But that is not why I loved church...
Sacrament was kind of surprising, learning that the bishop who I adore and who has helped me and carried me through so many trials, who gives me the confidence boost telling me that 'yes I can do it' and who has so many times blessed my family by allowing us to serve our Savior.  But new direction can be an exciting thing. Sometimes that unexpected left turn when you should have gone right brings you to the coolest spots that you would have nevewr found otherwise. I can't wait until next week when I find out the new Bishop. I will not do any speculating here (It is really hard not to, people) But that is not why I loved church today....
I got to primary today and just like things usually are, we have these couple kids that are really having a hard time stepping away from their protective parent and into the shark tank that is the priamry room. It can be a scary place for a little minow.  Huge sea, big fish, sharks. Its a scary thing. They scream. A LOT.  We pry their little scared bodies off their parent's leg and rush them away, leaving  the chorister to fend for herself and get those kids singing.  We usually ends up outside until we can calm the blood curling scream to a cry, and then we slowly coax them into the shark tank. We have this theory, that if we can get them into the primary room and make them happy sitting with us, then we can eventually ge them to sit with their class, happily. Its a theory. I will let you know if it works. So I have 2 screaming boys- who take very well to the Halo action figures that my kids were playing with during Sacrament meeting. They are happily playing on the floor in the front of the room and I hear My number 2 lady in the hall  with the third screamer. The fact that I can hear her is not a good sign- plus she is doing sharing time, so I need to switch screamers. I go and take the screamer from her, and we take a step outside. One of the stake presidency follows me, wondering what in the world this child is screaming for. As I explain to him that we are just having a hard time walking into primary today, he offers candy if she will go. She is not at all interested.  We decide to take a visist into the nursery to see said screamers sister. Hoping that maybe seeing any family member will reassure her that she is, infact, not abandoned. It works. She starts to calm down, we talk about her upcoming birthday party and she says I can come- if I bring my chickens. Now we can walk into the primary room, and maybe hear 5 minutes of sharing time. I am met in the hall by a substitute teacher who has another scared little fish. I take the fish to sit with me making my screamer total 4. My two, now calm and happy screaming boys are sitting on the floor happily playing. Sharing time is now pretty well over and we are to practice for this fanatastic musical number that we are doing next week in sacrament. It makes me cry and I DON'T cry. Logan told me this fact last week when I cried while singing it. I love this song- this particular version of it. If I could record it next week I would so you could hear it. And you would know why I love it and you, too would cry. If not then I can't help you, your dead inside.  So I am sitting with one lingering screamer- the first one I got, (the others have now joined there class :)  or spotted family members in the hall- at which point we have lost all progress, and we turn them over) These 6 sweet kids start to sing the song: Jesus once was a little child, a little child like me. And he was pure and meek and mild as a little child should be. So, little children, let's you and I try to be like Him. Try, try, try. And it hits me. This little boy sitting here with me, my scared little minow, is so much like my Heavely Brother. He is pure and meek and mild and he is, trying to be like Him. Enter immediate flowing of tears.  This screamer, whose mom apologized over and over to me for having to deal with him totally made my day. I got to see, and hold, and coax this sweet little spirit into primary today. I got to do my Heavenly Fathers work. And was rewarded a thousand times over again by that rush of the spirit filling every inch of my soul.  Everybody who passed me in the hall with my little screamer kept saying "you will get blessings for this" and "I don't know how you do it," and "I could never do that" But today I felt that I am so incredibly lucky that my Heavenly Father trusts me enough to get to do that. To take those fantastic spirits that are so pure and  meek and mild and let them sit with me.  Today I loved my screamers.  I love that I get to watch them try, try, try.
That is why I loved church today. Screamers.
 

So that set up took me all afternoon and now I have 3 hungry kids and a husband who may not make it to dinner time. So I will post my first rambling tomorrow.  I can't feel the tips of my fingers any way and I am sure the amount of misspelled words is increasing (I come from a long line of dyslexia)