There's nothing more sophisticated than diddling the maid and chewing some gum.

A couple of weeks ago, Chris and I were driving down Main Street and he spotted a Lamborghini parked in front of one of our favorite restaurants.  He was impressed.  I asked him, what's the big deal?  He tells me about how it's handmade and it costs probably $400,000.  I googled and he was a little off.  It's only $387,000.

$387,000 for a car.  Even if I was filthy stinking rich, I would have trouble paying that much money for a car.  It would be hard to justify.  Starving people on the planet would outweigh my need to blow money like that.

I started to think about what I would blow money on.  Like if I was just loaded.  And money were no option.

I love my house.  I want to live here forever.  So I don't want a big, fancy house.

My dream car is an old 1970's muscle car that costs about $25,000.

Even though I like to shop, I am happy with clothes from Penney's, Target, and even thrift stores.

I don't wear any expensive makeup.

My favorite shoes are Crocs.

I don't want to spend money on fancy purses or luggage or home decor.

You know what I would love?  I would love a maid.  I would willingly start dropping the cash for a maid to come in here and clean all this crap up.  Organize my house.  Keep it organized.  Clean my car on a daily basis.  Do all my laundry.  Toilets.  Scrub the stains out of the carpet.  Clean up after I cook.  Take out the trash.

Not having to do that stuff would free up tons of time.  I could go out to lunch and read books all day  spend so much more time with my children.  It really would be blissful to have a maid.  That's where I'm willing to blow my money.  That and a fridge stocked with fancy sparkling water.

Because I think the blind would probably be a little messier around the house. And lets face it they're not going to get all the crumbs. I'd possibly be walking around with a sponge.

Spencer and I had a conversation last night about a girl in his class who has a messy desk.  Spencer is a very organized, neat child.  Messes stress him out.  He was anxious about this girl who just takes her stuff and "shoves it in."  What's wrong with her, he wants to know.

What Spencer doesn't know is that he is being raised by that girl.  I am her.

I had the messiest desk ever.  My desk in third grade was so messy that my teacher, Mrs. Mott, dumped it out on the floor and made me clean all my stuff up in front of the entire class.  Papers went everywhere.  Pens, pencils and crayons rolled away like they were trying to flee the scene.  I wanted to melt into my chair.  It was a horrible experience for a 9 year old to endure.  Mrs. Mott didn't like me anyway and was probably secretly happy about dumping that desk.  Turns out she held my messiness against Anna too and made her 3rd grade experience a living nightmare.

I'm sure that Mrs. Mott was trying to teach me, in her warped way, to be more organized and productive and I wish I could say it was a turning point in my life.  I wish.

My locker in high school was so stinky that I never got my total locker deposit back at the end of each year.  They kept the $5 to, I assume, fumigate.

I continue to be messy and unorganized.  My method of organizing is shove the crap in the (cupboard, drawer, under the couch, garage, closet, under the bed, freezer, van) and if the door closes, SUCCESS!  All you need is for the door to close.  Sometimes you might have to shove and shove to get that door to close, but my motto is never give up.  You will get it.  Just keep trying.

Last night, I told Spencer to be nice to that girl.  Mommy is a little unorganized, I said.  He offered to teach me how to be organized.  Tonight he is starting with a binder.  Let's hope he's not using the Mrs.
Mott approach.

I can't believe it! You were *huge*! Like blubber! I couldn't even get my arms around you...

Lizzie loves to take pictures with my phone.  Usually she asks to borrow it and then she goes around the house taking random shots of herself, her siblings and me.  Occasionally, I'll go through the photos to see if there are any worth keeping and delete most of them.  This last time, she took a shot of me sitting at the computer doing something.  From the side.  It was a very unflattering shot and my first thought was, "I can't believe Chris stays with me if I look like that."

I'm a fatty.

Sometimes I forget that I'm a fatty and then I see a picture of myself how I really am and I'm reminded.  I'm not just a little fatty. I'm a really big fatty.

Ever since she took the picture, I've been thinking about it a lot.  About how fat I am.  And feeling very badly about it.  Here's the problem though:  Instead of feeling motivated to change, I feel motivated to eat an entire ring of Costco danishes.  Eating is what I do when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm bored, when I'm celebrating, when I'm lonely, when I'm normal.  It's what I do.  Food is good.  It tastes good and makes me feel good.

I'm not talking about the kind of food in pictures you post on Facebook of your quinoa and health shakes.  No.  I'm talking about the pictures of the loaded baked potato casserole and stuffed crust pizza.  I see the posts of the healthy food.  I read you say how its soooo yummy and you feel soooo good after eating it.  I don't believe you.  Have you ever eaten a burger from 5 Guys and fries?  That is what I consider soooo yummy.

And then there's exercise.  I HATE exercise.  I see you running and pxwhatevering and crossfitting and I feel tired.  I don't want to do it.  It's boring and makes me hurt and makes me tired and I don't even really believe it will work for me.

I don't know what to do.  Because I hate myself looking like this.  And I'm starting to worry about getting older and carrying this weight around.  I worry I will have a heart attack or stroke.  I worry I will get diabetes.

I don't know how to change.  There are so many roadblocks in my mind to doing it.  It's expensive to exercise and eat right.  I can't just throw items in a crockpot or casserole pan and be done.  With my busy life, I can't spend a great amount of time each night cooking.  I can't join a gym.  I can't buy workout clothes.  It will hurt.  It will make me tired.  It's boring.  I don't have time.

So I'm telling you skinny people, keep doing what you are doing.  Keep running.  Keep pxing.  Keep eating your almonds and kale.  Because you don't want to be me.  Almost 40 and fat.

Hey kids. What's the deal with homework? you're not working on your home!

It's back to school time at the Vos Household.  It's my very least favorite time of the year.  I love having the kids home.  There's nothing I can do about it so I try and make the best of it.  This year we had a special back to school FHE and talked about each of us setting a goal for this school year.  The goals they set were very thoughtful and relevant to their lives.  I read this on another blog and decided this will be my goal:

Three Unbelievably Simple Parenting Ideas: 1) Children need a minimum of 8 touches a day to feel connected to a parent. 2) Each day, children need one meaningful eye-to-eye conversation with a parent. 3) There are nine minutes during the day that can have the greatest impact on a child: the first three minutes right after they wake up, the three minutes after they come home from school, and the last three minutes of the day before they go to bed.


They sound incredibly simple and like "Duh, aren't I don't this?"  But sometimes I need a reminder.  Especially the eye contact.  I am the queen of multi-tasking.  I talk to them while cooking, cleaning, folding, washing.  I need to be more present.  Hopefully I can keep it up longer than a week!

On Labor Day we spent our time swimming and BBQing with Anna and Tony.  At night all the children got their Father's Blessings.  It never ceases to amaze me how the Priesthood works.  I love that Heavenly Father knows what my children need and need to hear and then He works through the Spirit to tell my husband what to say.  It was a very special time together.

All the backpacks got packed.  All the clothes were laid out and washed.  The new shoes were all ready.

We woke up bright and early at 5:05 and I made omelets for each child before they left for school.  This was the first year that Emily drove herself and Christopher to Seminary.  I love it!

They returned home from school with all positive experiences.  Spencer has all of his friends in his class.  Almost every single one.  That teacher is in for a boisterous year.  Cameron, on the other hand, only has 2 friends in his class.  But he was ok with meeting new friends.  Calvin is starting Chinese as an extra class at the high school every morning.  That should be a challenge for him.  Christopher has classes from one end of campus to the other.  He said he will be late to one class every day.  Emily has a class called Advanced Science Fiction.  Really, this is a high school class?  I'm very interested to read the syllabus.  Lizzie doesn't go to school until tomorrow.  She's super excited about it.  Her backpack is almost bigger than she is.

Six kids at 4 different schools.  I'm tired already and it's only day 1.