Colorado Crockers

My husband thought I was nuts, he told me it was going to be "my thing" and he wanted no part. Being me, I did it anyway. A childhood friend with a huge heart got herself into animal rescue. She put out an SOS on Facebook in need of foster home for kittens. The job description? Love on a couple cute balls of fluff until they are big enough to get fixed and find forever families. This seemed like the perfect gig; all the kitten loves with none of the cat ownership. I will never forget our first litter. My friend brought us two fluffy balls of orange fur. I am not sure God has ever created anything as heart melting as 4 week old orange kittens. My tough talking husband was smitten, my daughters in love. We loved our month with those babies, and while we were sad to see them go, we felt we had done a good thing for the world in assisting those babies in finding there forever home. Not all rescue stories are this happy. The thing about rescue is you don't get to

I have always been the kid with the messy room. My mother, bless her, did her damnedest to teach me to be neat and tidy, but to no avail. I come from a beautiful home. My mother had not only a knack for decorating, but for home making in general. Our house was clean, lovely, well stocked and a great place to be. Except for my room, which always looked like a closet vomited on the floor and a pissed off bookshelf chucked its contents out of anger. I lost things, didn't turn in home work if I even knew what it was, and generally just squeaked by. At some point in my adulthood, I realized my brain worked differently than other peoples. Where some people had no problem keeping things like bills, laundry and general life in order, it was was a ton of work for me and I rarely kept things to the standard I had in my head from growing up. Convinced I just lacked a good "system" I attempted to solve this problem like I attack all things I am faced with; the power of informatio

This is the time of year my facebook feed fills with expressions of "OMG, my children need to go back to school NOW before I kill them!". One of my favorite bloggers, Jen Hatmaker, has a hilarious post to that effect. Everyone seems done with summer. Except me. It is strange to be the only one not counting the days until school starts. I mean, I am excited for my kids to start up again, the one day a week that they go, because they LOVE the program that they are a part of and can't wait to see their friends. So I am happy to see them off, but I will miss them. This makes me wonder why I am such an anomaly. Maybe it is because we have never really done the "leave for school and gone all day" thing. Maybe it is because only 2 of the 4 are even school age, and they are my helpful two, so I am not sure why I would WANT them gone all day. Earlier this week, Matt caught me on the edge of breakdown. School starts next week and we are headed to sunny California

Some people hear God at church. Others, while reading the bible and praying. Some meditate. I have a friend who said he heard God best while sky diving. God is cool like that. You don't have to sit in a pew to hear his wisdom. Today, Him and I hung out while I was in the dirt. We moved into this house at the end of last summer. We busted our hind ends to get painting, carpet, hardwood, etc....all done before we moved in. And then there was school. And a new company. And a new job and new classes to both teach and take. Something had to give and that thing happened to be our yard. Matt is not a yard work guy. He pretty much hates it. Lucky for us, it was the end of the growing season so we could neglect our landscaping (or lack there of) without too much chaos over-taking anything. As things started to green up this summer, we got to see how truly "in the weeds" we really were. First I tackled my garden. 3 new garden boxes built, weed cloth, mulch, path stones a

We live smack dab in the middle of suburbia. Houses close together with yards back to back mean that occasionally we inadvertently get up in other peoples business. This crosses my mind on those nice evenings when we have all our windows open and I am shouting things like "stop licking your sister!" and "for the love of all things holy, put on some underwear!". Most the time, things are pretty good at our house. Our kids, for the most part, are nice little humans. I am not much of a yell-er when angry and am more prone to getting dangerously quiet. If you asked our neighbors, I am relatively certain we would land somewhere in the "normal" category. When only hearing snippets of other peoples lives, it is easy to get a little judgey. Like the time one of our neighbors locked his wife out of the house while yelling things not fit to print. In front of there 3 little kids. Or like tonight, when I could hear a neighbor screaming at her son that he was

There is a child in my house who has a hell of a time sitting still. Actually, I have a couple of those, it is just that this one is "school age" and therefore is expected to sit nicely on her behind and do...stuff. I am a bi-polar homeschooler. I have days when I remember that I keep my kids at home because I like them and I have fun teaching them. I remember that I am giving them the gift of a childhood not lived sitting at a desk, the freedom to learn at there own pace and follow their unique gifts and interests. And then I get on Facebook or go to a friends house and see the test scores and worksheets and nicely completed, holiday appropriate crafts on the fridge. I have a mini freak out moment and make my kid-who-hates-sitting glue her butt to a chair and crank out handwriting worksheets. Today, I read this . I love when science backs my play. Reading this reminds me that the reason I love our family's choice to homeschool. I love that I don't have t

Once upon a time, there was a young woman who got married at a shockingly young age. It was rough, but it seemed to work. This frightfully young woman went to college and had a job. She taught classes full of small children and was pretty sure she had this kid thing all figured out, after all, she went to school for that. And she had been a nanny. I mean, people PAID her to take care of children, so she must be good at it. Poor broad, didn't have a clue. Real life has a way of smacking you on your ass with humility. Mine came in the form of 4 children. I was an amazing parent until I actually had kids. To this date, I am pretty sure I have learned more from my children than I have been able to teach them, which is saying something (not a good something) since we homeschool. My children are approaching the age where I am no longer required for sustenance twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. Although Jamison is no closer to weaning now than he was 6 months ago, we can at

I suck at romance. I am a bit too much of a pragmatist. I am into love. Totally. I use it as my guide post for everything in life. I try to make my words loving  my actions love filled and my responses love based. Love is the yardstick by which I measure success. My long suffering husband gets this. He knows I would much rather have a small box of chocolates that he planed ahead to get me than a massive, 5 lb assortment that he ran out to get the morning of our anniversary. I put "thoughtfulness" way higher on the list than "romance". Matt brews my coffee most mornings. He brings me breakfast in bed sometimes on the weekend, especially after I have had a long night with the baby. When he really wants me to feel loved, he sweeps and mops the dining room. He plugs in my cell phone so that it doesn't die, something I never seem to be able to remember to do. He does the dishes EVERY NIGHT because he knows floaty things in dish water totally give me the woo

My kids didn't get dressed today until after 10. I am wearing yoga pants and a hoody...which almost doesn't count as getting dressed at all. So far today, the girls have painted their nail and had a "spa day". Eliana created a party for everyone, complete with making homemade brownies. The girls dressed and packed their dolls to go on an adventure, which to them to the swings in the back yard. There was a puddle and stick that made for some great painting on the back patio. The bunny was released from his cage and the girls fed her various green and growing things trying to figure out her favorite. Then they made her a salad. Jamison has driven his car, thrown the ball, stomped in the mud and fed the bunny a carrot. The weather is awesome, so everyone is currently wandering around the back yard while eating lunch. I suck at home schooling. We have done nothing school related all day, and I don't really plan on it. Not a worksheet has been filled out, a text

Eliana has a formerly yellow bunny that has been her favorite since she was small. Actually, she has 3. When it became apparent that life would not be happily lived without said bunny, we invested in a few more, just to be sure. When she was big enough to have words but still small enough that most of them were hard to decipher, she named said bunny, buba. And hence forth, all loveys in the Crocker household have been called bubas. Addilyn fell in love with a yellow blanket. Annabelle has a pink blanket and a hippo named Bo. Worried about starting school? Take buba in the car. Sad because daddy is away for work? Snuggle buba in bed until you feel better. Slow to wake up? Drag buba around until you feel able to face the world. Buba is the answer to most questions of insecurities. This evening I slipped away for some time alone. Though my sweet hubby encouraged me to call a friend to share a drink with, my soul craved quiet and solitude. The best place for that? A library, or, in t