Colorado Crockers

I just watched a TED talk (which I am completely addicted to, by the way) about finding your life's purpose in under 5 minutes. Now, if that isn't worth doing than nothing is! And seeing how it is 1 am and my children are asleep and my brain is not, I might as well tackle the meaning of my life. Ready? 1. Who are you? Hi, my name is Gretchen. I am a daughter of a King, wife to Matt, mother of 4 beautiful children under the age of 8, a teacher, a friend, a sister and daughter. I am a seeker of truth and asker of questions. I am a ridiculously idealist cynic. I am passionately reserved and an extrovert who needs her space. I am a jack of all trades but master of none. 2. What do you (love to) do? (i.e. what are you supremely qualified to teach other people?) I like to cook but I don't like to follow recipes and there is a good chance I like to cook because I REALLY like to eat. I like to sew but I don't really know how to use a pattern and I usually only sew...

I was single parenting this week. I have a fair amount of experience in this, generally it goes well. Our hardest moments revolve around leaving the house. This makes having to be ready and in the car at a bit after 8 on Monday for school a bit of a circus. This Monday was no different. I had made the girls cinnamon toast, completely forgetting that Addilyn doesn't love it. She politely asked for plain toast and I told her that was fine. By the time breakfast 2.0 was ready for her, she was dressed and ready to walk out the door. Fast forward about 5 minutes and 1 piece of jelly toast later... I am not sure how a 5 year old girl even manages to make as big of mess as she did with 1 piece of toast. Apparently, some of the jelly slid off her toast and instead of licking her fingers or grabbing napkin, she proceeded to wipe her hands on her khakis...and her new shirt...and face...and even in her hair. It was 1 piece of toast. It required a full wardrobe change and sponge bath. ...

My 8 year old has a rockin' thigh gap. Not familiar with thigh gap? You must not be a tween aged girl or fitness obsessed 20 something. Google the term, you will get some pictures of what some call beauty. Lucky for me, my 8 year old doesn't know it is considered cool to have said thigh gap. She also doesn't know that the "cool kids" are often the ones who pretend they don't care about school, she doesn't know what a rainbow loom is, or that clothing from Justice is in for kids her age. She is into legos and robots, superhero comics and American girl dolls. Because she is 8. She has never had a "boy friend" or even pretended to, but she has a lot of little boys she like to talk about minecraft with. Maybe it is because we homeschool, maybe it is her personality, whatever it is, I am pretty sure I can take no credit for her general disinterest in things that are popular. Her drummer beats and she happily marches on beat. I struggle with th...

I have found myself not posting much lately. Obviously, since the last time I wrote was JULY! Despite moving cross country, living in the in between for over a month while single parenting, getting the kids enrolled in school, homeschooling, painting and updating a new house, and getting a bunny, I have stopped writing because my internal editor has been working over time. See, I process in my head and refine ideas in my writing. When I don't have time to write, and thus refine, I find I avoid it least it seem unfinished. So this is me, getting over myself. I will write half thoughts, drop terribly unbaked ideas, and subject you all to all types of  drivel  that may not make a drop of sense. You have been warned. So today is Eliana's 8th birthday. I am afraid up until this point I have learned more from being a parent that I have possible been able to pour into this kid. I get the better part of this deal, hands down. I hope that maybe MY learning will slow down so I...

I was reading this today and it caused me to reevaluate. I have been trying to live in JOY lately, and often, not always, succeed. You see, 2 weeks from tomorrow the kids and I will be getting on an airplane with one way tickets to CO. Back home. My heart is joyful, my brain is frazzled and I am getting a little twitchy from the stress. We are buying a house (that I have never seen) enrolling kids in school (that I have never visited) and living in limbo while Matt finishes up stuff here and we start life there and...oh my. Jamison is getting his molars, all 4 of them. My normally crappy sleeper is worse, if that was even possible. I lovely little neighbor girls has a little issue with lice (and a much bigger issue of a broken family and being shuttled from home to home, but that is a different post) and so my little girls have been repeatedly combed and groomed to prevent the infestation from spreading. I am attempting to pack up a family of 6. Notice I say "attempting...

A friend of mine posted this  on Facebook today. It spoke to my heart. When I am really doing good,when life has a rhythm and I am not feeling overwhelmed and undermanned, we have a pretty stellar bed time routine. It starts with a clean up time, followed by a bath or shower, jammies on and everyone collects on the couch with bowls of popcorn and we read a story together. Up stairs we go, teeth are brushed and into bed. But that isn't all. The last part is my favorite. We lay together in bed and say the best thing and worst things about our day, we name the things we are thankful for and then I tell each child a moment in the day that I was proud of them. I would love to say that last part was one of those conscious choices I made to be a good parent, but I would be full of crap. It all started one night that followed a day where I felt like all I did was harp on my kids. I felt like a terrible mom. They felt picked on and sad. I didn't want to end the day that way so I tol...

I have divulged the family secret that we are terrible about modesty in this house, so if there is anyone to speak truth on this subject I am fairly doubtful it would be me. Me, the mom who has on multiple occasions taken a child on outings sans undies. Me, the mom who doesn't own a bathrobe and generally has to attend to someone elses need upon exiting the shower before I can even attempt to get fully attired. This does not mean I don't have an opinion on the issue because of course I do. I have read many an article on the subject that sounds like this . Now that one is delivered with a bit more love than most, but the the tone is the same. I grew up in the church. I have heard the spiel. Heck, I worked with the youth, I have GIVEN the spiel. The church and I both missed it. Yup, I was wrong even though my heart was in the right place and I threw scripture at it. Imagine that, you can be misguided even when toss the bible at a problem! Here is what I believe I, and the ...

ser·en·dip·i·ty    /ˌserənˈdipitē/ Noun The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way: "a fortunate stroke of serendipity" My life is lived slowly. It might be because I find myself moving at the pace of a newly walking one year old boy or a incredibly distracted 3 year old girl. It could be by chance but in my most honest moments I must confess that I really like to move slowly. I like to drink my coffee not in a travel mug. I like my kids being able to paint pictures in their jamies until 10:00 am. I like having a clear calendar and nothing expected of us. I don't sign my kids up for stuff, despite the lingering mom guilt, and instead plan trips to museums, lakes, camping, and the library. All on our own time. At our own pace. The other day I had just put my kids down for some quiet time when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find a friend of ours who was dropping off some items her husband had purchased...

I figured I would title this in a way that no one would question the content of this post. Yes, this is a post about sex. A friend of mine posted this link . I agree with some of it. I like that the mother takes special time to be with her children. I like that she did some research ahead of time. I can tell her heart is in the right place and they way she handled it was maybe right for her family and her situation. Yeah. We don't do it that way. First, we suck at modesty in this house. My kids like to be naked and I think it is a stupid thing to fight about. We do discuss that it is bad manors to leave the house without underwear (though we did end up at the park last week sans-panies and in a dress), that it is polite to be properly attired when we have people over. We have found this to be a self correcting problem, Eliana now feels more comfortable dressed and there was never any shaming or "cover that up!" that lead to this, only maturity. Second, we t...

This is a blog post I almost didn't write. I almost didn't because I don't really have anything to say. "Who would want to read that?!" my inner voice critiques. But I don't write for "them", I write for me, I write because it is a discipline that sharpens with time and effort poured into it. Even taking time to gather the scattered thoughts into sentences when the subject matter leaves a lot to be desired will, at least in theory,  allow me to better express myself when I really do have something significant to relay. That day isn't today, but I have to assume at some point I will be interesting. My house is quiet. Well, not exactly quiet. Perfectly quiet doesn't happen around these parts. Relative quiet. Four children down for a rest type quiet. There is still the noise of the dryer (because it is Monday, and damnit! I WILL complete my laundry today) and a box full of kittens in the kitchen. One of the kittens is protesting loudly to it...

It seems wrong to have my first blog post in monrhs be a unorganized collection of brain droppings. It seems like I should be doing a cutsie family status update full of pictures of my smiling children being success, adorible quips and quotes from my three year old and deep pondering about the meaning of life. But it is my blog, damn it, and that just isn't the space I am ocuping today. I slept from 3-5:30 am, and not of my own choosing. I am grumpy. My husband is traveling. The weather has turned humid so don't even get me started on the state of my hair. I didn't get to drink my coffee this morning between meeting the needs of many little people. Then there is the news; the heartbreak of families losing everything in the storms in the midwest. As I serve my kids cold cereal, there are mothers stumbling through soul sucking grief of losing a child. It makes my lack of sleep and coffee bitching seem petty. My son is such a blessing, this is what I keep telling myself. T...

This kid is 10 months old. 2 months away from his first birthday. That means I have been 10 months without a full nights sleep. Who am I kidding...it has been more like 7.5 years. Jamison is a busy little man. He crawls. He cruises around stuff. He stands. He has made it a personal mission to eat as much nasty stuff from off the floor as he can. He has about 8 words and several signs. He is SUCH a ham and loves to make his sisters laugh. He also has quite the temper (*sigh*) and when told no or removed from something he is not supposed to be in to he will arch his back and SCREAM. Oy. This poor dude was also the victim of my most epic mommy fail moment. The other morning I set him on the floor to get him dressed. As I was sitting right next to him, he reached over and put his hand on the humidifier. The one that is usually off during the day and I had yet to unplug. I immediately grabbed him but the damage was done. His poor baby hand was fried. He screamed...and...

Dear Organized Religion, I suppose we have both known this was coming for quite some time. It isn't any secret to anyone familiar with my life that we don't get along. For so long I have tried to make it fit, to shove my heart and thoughts and dreams in a neat little box with your name on it. But I am done. I will no longer defend you. I won't stand for your oppression, your hate, the wars fought in your name. I will stand on the side of those weeping because of you. Those who feel like they have no place, I will be holding there hands. Those who are forgotten because there life isn't neat, who have other plans on Sunday morning, I am going to hang out with them. Many of my friends like you, they hang out with you regularly and like how neat and tidy you are. They like the security of feeling like they are in the "right" while everyone else (God save there souls) is wrong. They enjoy having all the answers, knowing the right phrases, being on the...

Blogging is a strange tension. My life is far from exciting, my children are cute but deserve some level of privacy, my marriage is healthy but non necessarily fodder for blogging. I also attempt to be real. I would hate for anyone to ever read this and think I have got it all together, or that I think that I have all the answers or that my life is all rainbows and butterflies. Eliana is learning that stories have a beginning, middle and end. If only that was so. The middle of my story might be the beginning of someone elses. What I feel is an ending might only be a new beginning in disguise. I believe we all play a part in a bigger story, that our tails are just chapters in a larger book of which we are not the author. But some tails are hard to write about. They are sensitive or scary or just hard to find the words for. Real life is messy and not neatly summarized in blog posts. My heart is so scattered, my thoughts are f...

If you can eat "normal" food, feel free to skip this post...and go eat a donut in celebration. We are now all gluten free at our house. Sad day. Or maybe not. Matt has found he feels 10 times better when he avoids wheat, Annabelle is a much happier little person and my other girls don't have belly aches. Oh, and now I won't be dying at a young age of cancer. So I suppose it could be worse than having to be gluten free. It is, however, brutal on the food budget. S everal years ago I discovered Pamela's Baking and Pancake mix. It rocks. From this magic I can make cookies, muffins, pancake and waffles in a jiffy. Oh happy day!! Except it costs $15 for a bag that we can kill in about 2 weeks. Oy. Back to the drawing board. Through the combined knowledge of gluten free cheap-skates such as myself, I have come up with this recipe for a DIY Pam's mix. It is awesome. Cheaper than buying it, I make a double batch and keep it in a Tupperware. For pancakes, mix one...

I am not sure when it happened, my sweet little AJ getting so big. But it is official, she had the 5 candles to prove it.  This girl, who so boldly marches to drum beat in her own little heart. The kid who chose to be a donut and and IPad for Halloween. The kid who chose to have a Snowman birthday, with brownies, not cake or cupcakes. The kid who wanted to go out for ice cream to celebrate when it was single digits. She is so awesomely herself. And now she is 5.  So snowmen we had, in the shape of pancakes  her favorite food. Along with eggs, sausage and applesauce. The friends came over and we made indoor snowmen from a dough of baking soda and shaving cream. It was a giant mess, and oh so very much Addilyn Joy. I am beyond blessed to be this girls mama. I am grateful for her each day. I love her spirit and her spunk. I can't wait to see the amazing adventures she is sure to undertake and the woman she will become. It is going...

Addilyn was being a butt-head today. This might not be so surprising to those of you who don't know Addilyn well, she is after all a five year old girl and we all know five year olds are prone to butt-headed-ness. She isn't a butt-head  At least, not usually. She is my happy, go lucky, roll with the punches kind of kid. Until shes not. Then she is a pain in the butt. Moody. Grumpy. A pest to her sisters. General butt-headish behavior. And that is when I know I have messed up. We could call this an Addilyn problem, and, on some level, that wouldn't be entirely inaccurate. I believe we are in charge of how we deal with our emotions. But she is 5. And I am her mom. And I know adults who don't do that whole "emotion" thing well so it is a tall order for a short person. Addressing the need behind the behavior is the quickest way to root it out. So even though I want to thump her and tell her to pull herself together, I ...

My kids think they have chores. Ok, so they kind of do. I hate free loaders and I won't be raising any so I do put my kids to work in all sorts of ways. We don't really call them chores, just kind of "hey, you live in this house so you are expected to help keep it up, it takes a team". Except for J, but he is really cute and bald and toothless and that really gets you a long way. No, the chores my kids truly kevetch about are referred to as their "5 things". Each day, some time after they have consumed the breakfast lovingly prepared for them by one of their parents (who are we kidding, we all know Matt is the breakfast guy around these parts) my children are expected to do the following: get dressed, brush hair, wash face, brush teeth and make bed. Whoa. Am I a mean mother or what. Here is the catch; there is no screen time of any sort until they are all done. High stakes, my friends, high stakes. Each day when I take a shower, I leave Eliana in c...

I am an introvert. OK. Maybe that is a misrepresentation. I am PART introvert. I live in a weird tension between being someone who loves people but needs space. I have been out of my space, my home, my life rhythm for the last month as I spent time with my family and friends in Colorado. I loved it. I loved having coffee with people I usually am forced to only enjoy over the phone. I love hugging my niece and harassing my nephew. I shopped with my sister. I went out with my dad. I spent lazy mornings with my mom.  I hugged on my friends kids, slept in their beds, and spent hours of quality time with people who matter to me. And now I am grumpy. I am home, or at least where my possessions happen to reside, and I feel like I need to curl up with a book and lock myself in a room to "recharge". I have lost my balance, I spent too much time OUT and not enough IN. I don't really have good words for it, for the feeling of wanting to hide from the world. ...

Sleep deprivation. Loosing the "pre-baby" body. Less "me" time. No time alone with hubby. These are all the sacrifices people talk about when you have a baby. These are things you are expecting, anticipating, freedoms you know you are giving up. The there is the other stuff, the "second string" sacrifices you may have only heard when eves dropping on mommy friends. Things like never getting to pee by yourself or getting puked on or children running off with important things like cell phone or key or wallets. Then there is the dark side. Things mothers don't often talk about because you just can't bring yourself to discuss it over a cocktail or even at a playgroup. Things you can't say out loud least your children repeat them. Things that sacrifice our very pride. It goes beyond the humility of our children looking like booger crusted hooligans at church on those mornings you just can't seem to get your shizit together. It goes further...

The accident was on my mind all night. In my dreams I was trying to save them or I was crashing my car or.... This morning I woke up feeling anything but rested. I spent a nice morning at a friends house while our kids played. We talked about the accident. I am still trying to find the right "box" in my head to put it in. Death? Things you never hope to see again? Pain? Car safety? Through the wonders of technology and firmly filed under the heading "small friggin' world" I saw a friends post on Facebook. RIP. My stomach sank. I got that cold feeling. The one you get when watching a horror movie and the stupid blond girl is about to go for a walk. At night. In the graveyard. By herself. Stomach in my feet, I started to put together pieces. I knew him. The man who died while we waited for help to come. The man who I talked to, who I told everything was going to be all right. The man who I couldn't help. That man was Ryan. Ryan who graduated the same y...

Ok, so I suck as a blogger. I am long over due for a post. I am sorry, friends, that I have done a crappy job staying on top of this. It seems wrong to have the first post of a year be a sad one. I feel like I should be talking about all the hope I have for a new year, a clean slate and blah blah blah That would have been my post, but life doesn't always go the way you think it is going to. We watched the Broncos game today. I am not a fan of football...or really any sports. I didn't grow up in a household that's pulse beat to whatever sports season it happen to be. And I pretty much suck at sports. The game was a good one though we lost and our season is now over. The devastation of Broncos fans sent ripples through Facebook. The creeping crud has been making its way around our family, today it was Jamison who was feeling sickly and we were all out of Ibuprofen.  Despite the single digit weather, I was off to Target fo...