For the record: I'm NOT old

I had my first physical at the doctor's office today in 10 years.  Oops.  Word to the wise:  Do not wait 10 years...they pull out a different sheet of questions to ask you.  I must have gotten the "blue" list, instead of the typical "yellow" questions.  No one asked me:  "Is there any chance you could be pregnant?"  I mean, isn't that the FIRST question they always ask?  No matter where you go for who knows what?!

Nope...Here's what I got.

"OK...you are 42, correct?" (oh gosh...is this right?  It sounds old...ya, that's right though)

 "Are you still having periods?" (um...YA. Like clockwork.)

"Are you taking hormones?"  (WHAT?!  Um. NO. Am I supposed to be?)

"Look lady, can't ya see the pink streaks in my hair?  I'm young and hip.  Quit asking these ridiculous questions and give me my PAP smear.  Let's get on with it.  And just in case you want to know, NO, I am NOT pregnant...and the only reason I'm NOT is because my husband is FIXED.  For the record."

The Milkbone Diet

Parenting techniques change from generation to generation.  That's also true for each subsequent child.

When my first baby dropped her pacifier on the floor, I would diligently put a pot of water on the stove.  When it came to a rolling boil I would submerge it for a minimum of 5 minutes~ after all, boiling water is the ONLY thing that will kill germs, right?

With baby #2, she would get her paci/toy rinsed off under some running water--all of the germs would be safely rinsed down the drain.

Baby #3, who was a true pacifier ADDICT, would get her suck-suck (as we call them in our family) wiped-off on my jeans.

Baby #4 would get the 5 second rule (or maybe 10).  If it falls to the floor for less than 10 seconds, it doesn't count, you're good to go.

Baby #5.  Well...let me tell you about baby #5.

Signe was born in August of 2000.  Not quite a year later we got our first puppy.  Naturally, Corduroy (yes, this German Shepard/Chinese Fighting Dog mix is named after the teddy bear with a missing button--though some call him "Cujo".) liked Milkbones.  He would lie on the carpet and chew his Milkbone and small pieces would fall from his mouth.  The problem was, Signe would sit by him and wait for the chunks to fall.  Anxiously, she would snatch up these chunks and eat...

Now, I'm not totally a reckless mother.  At her one year check up, I confessed of her diet to her pediatrician.  The doctor said "No biggie...there is nothing inedible in Milkbones".  So with her blessing, Signe ate Milkbones for 8 years.  Last year came a big disappointment.  We opened a brand new box of Milkbones and right away Signe let us know, "They changed the formula".  She has never had one since.

Squirting our kids with 409

You may be wondering why my sweet husband drove 20 miles to get me a cup of coffee.  I don't even know where to start with this one...stay with me here.

The Cabin.  Heron, Montana.  People may wonder why I complain about one of my favorite places on Earth:  beautiful cabin tucked in the middle of the woods, being with the whole family etc.  Let me try and explain:


Only VERY special people can function at The Cabin.  And I can only think of two.  Mom.  And Dad.  None of us would be able to "run" things here without them...or know where things are kept.

The Cabin has no electricity ~ ~ true, we are updated with a generator and solar power.  We also have flushing toilets now (but we still have to use the "out" when there are a bunch of us here because you definitely don't want to overload the septic system) We don't call it "outhouse" because the original version here at the ranch had no door.  So we just called it "The Out".  OK, so we sort of have electricity, but if you try and use the microwave, you get lectured about "the batteries".  I don't know what that means, but we are not allowed to use it.  Why they don't throw the microwave away, I'll never know.  None of us know how to run this complicated generator thing...dad is busy all day long checking numbers, keeping a graph of some sort that is hung on the wall, and telling us to turn off lights because the numbers are low.

My dear mother has a unique way of storing things.  She wanted my sister to feed the cats...Mari couldn't find the cat food.  "It's in the cat litter bucket".  Mom says.  "Of course".  says Mari.  So on the bottom of the pantry Mari opens the big bucket of litter and sure enough:  cat food!

My other sister wanted to add some cashews to her trail mix.  She reached her hand into the cashew jar, and out comes her hand with melted chocolate chips all over it.  Oh ya...the chocolate chips are kept in the cashew jar.  This is like living at Ernie and Bert's house.


As I was digging through the fridge this morning, I found a bunch of sandwiches labeled "baking soda".  No wonder the kids forgot their lunch on their 8 hour hike to the top of a mountain yesterday!


You may see one of us squirting our kids with 409 periodically.  Well, if you read closely, above the "409", "hand soap" is written in permanent marker.  We are used to that one.  It sits by the sink...so when you need to wash your hands you just squirt with 409.


I think the only thing in the house labeled correctly is Dad's "shampoo/cleaning fluid".  For as long as I can remember, my dad has made his own "shampoo".  On it is a label reading: "Jay's shampoo etc. (Grandpa's superdooper shampoo made from super secret ingredients)  Use at your own risk "  There is a skull and crossbones drawn underneath the label.


Not only is this place "label challenged", EVERYTHING is harder here.  For instance, just getting dressed.    "Heron Hair" is a biggie.  I don't care what kind of real shampoo and conditioner you bring to the cabin, you can't look good.  Hair is CRAZY.  It won't brush, it stands straight out, and you are not allowed to use a hair dryer.  If we complain my mother says "just put some vinegar in your hair afterwards, that's what I do".  OK.  That's just what I've always wanted MY hair to smell like.  How'd she know?!


This brings me back to the coffee.  Coffee is a HUGE problem-o at The Cabin.  First of all, dad only drinks instant.  So we fish around for some real coffee that one of us has left from a previous visit.  There is no coffee maker so you first have to boil water...after that it gets even more complicated.  We have some little gadget that makes one cup at a time  (which first we have to find and figure out how to put together). OK, so I get my coffee made and naturally there is no creamer, so I add sugar.  I am quite the sugar addict, I admit, and it takes quite a bit to make me happy.  I finally get my coffee just so (this is like a half hour process) and take a sip.  SPIT!  Out it goes.  It tastes just like the Gulf of Mexico!  Pure SALT.  Oops...my bad.  I didn't read the label closely.  Sugar was crossed out and in it's place "not sugar" is written. This is when I send Dave to the nearest gas station.


Why does mom do this?  It is one of the great mysteries of Heron.

Our Magical Forest

"It's a full moon, just like they promised!!" Signe said as we were hiking through the woods at 10pm.

There is a very special place on our land in Montana called THE FAIRY FOREST. It was discovered 10 or so years ago by a couple of my daughters. There are these fluffy green ferns that are only found there. These are the "fairy ferns". Soon, we found little nooks in the trees (must be where the fairies live) and things progressed from there.

The girls started writing notes to the fairies and leaving them in a box out in the forest. It wasn't long before the fairies were writing back. This has been going on for over 10 years...and it is extremely complicated now. Each grandchild has a "fairy". Here are some of their names: (the fairies, not the grandkids) Pumpernickle, Frangipani, Acorn, Isabelle, and Twalla. Each fairy has an extensive past, favorite color, place they were born etc. etc. As I said: complicated.

Once a year there is a fairy ball that is held in the fairy forest that the grand kids are invited to. It is held at dark...which is pretty late in Montana. Last evening was the night of the ball this year. As Mom, Dad, Mari, Sarah, Teenie, me, Dave, the other Dave, Eric, and 8 of the grand kids went traipsing along to the fairy forest ( Dad following in the gator because we need lights!!) that's when Signe said, "It's a full moon, just like they promised!"

We arrived at the ball and there were twinkly lights up in the trees shining down on the miniature houses on the ground. There were some little gifts left for the kids in the present/note spot. First, everyone just stood still and watched. Soon the fairies started appearing. They disguise themselves in front of humans. But each fairy told their kid what they would be wearing.

Signe's fairy is orange with black spots, but she would be wearing a yellow ball gown. We all stood silently under the moonlight watching and listening. It was a good 15 or 20 minutes when Signe started getting a little sad because her fairy didn't show. It was time to leave and as we turned around toward the Gator a yellow fairy flew right in front of the headlight. I told Signe I saw her, and she quickly turned around and knelt down by the headlight. We waited, and she reappeared. At first Signe was disappointed because the fairy was yellow...then she remembered Isabelle said she would be wearing a yellow ball gown. "Oh!! That's why she was late! She had to change into her gown!" Signe said.

Suddenly the little fairy settled right onto Signe's hand. She stayed there for over 10 minutes. Signe and she stared and stared at each other.

When we got back to the cabin Signe showed me a note she had written Isabelle. "Dear Isabelle, Can you sit on my hand at the fairy ball? And what's your favorite color? Love, Signe"

"Mommy, I didn't even give her the note and she knew what it said. This was the best night of my life. It's the best thing I can think of!"