A make-up List (52 weeks of lists)

IMG_5739, originally uploaded by lisaandmark77.

Words that Touch the Soul

I’m trying to do this 52 weeks of lists project. Last week I listed things I’m grateful for. Tonight I’m going to go back and “make up” (because this is homework?) Week 1 and come back to Week 6 another night.

Words that touch my soul….

Lavender (and yet I don’t like this scent)

My list isn’t long tonight. And it isn’t terribly artful. But I’m making it.

This photo is a bit dated now but it makes me smile and touches my soul.

It is interesting to read some of the other lists — http://www.moorea-seal.com/2013/01/52-lists-week-1.html — or try your own! I’m going to try to be back with another one this week. After all, I’m “behind”. 🙂

Top Ten Things the Kidlets do to Drive Me Crazy


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(Even if it is a short drive)

10. Mittens…gloves…etc…okay, while I get frustrated by lost gloves (especially single lost gloves!!!) what really drives me crackers is repeated glove removal with high pitched and immediate whining for mommy to Help!!!!! Put it back on!!!!!! My Glub! My Glub! Mommy! Yeah, I’m cold blooded by nature. So when I have to slip my gloves off in freezing temps multiple times in a span of 5 minutes in order to wrestle little sausage fingers back into her Glub because she felt compelled to slip it off in order to do a little taster’s choice on the snow and ice……yeah, that can set me off towards crazy town. Eating snow…also gross and irritating but…not in the top ten! Oh, the suspense, right?

9. Peeing but not flushing or putting the seat down. Now, if 10 was all Charlotte, 9 is definitely all Joey. He doesn’t even put the seat UP to pee. He just aims high? Yeah, I don’t know. But he appears to have gone to the seventies-style school of water conservation. (I could also blame his dad and his hyper ‘Don’t flush’ proclamations related to his unsubstantiated fear of scalding someone in the shower….Joey has taken the message to heart. Even if the only place I know this happens is Mark’s parents’ Sears and Roebuck house. There…yeah, it happens).

But back to that pee. It probably would just be a smelly annoyance if the dog didn’t think toilet water (especially yellow?) was so delicious. She sucks up a mouthful, gets yelled at (because you know she ain’t quiet) and proceeds to slosh said mouthful across the bathroom floor and down the hall. (Big dog. Big mouth. Long trail of stinky pee water for me to traipse through in clean, dry white socks……) Ahhhhhhhh!

8. Asking for seconds. Waiting a second and deciding they are too full. Wasteful. Infuriating. Sigh. Both commit this crime regularly.

7. Boogers and snot trails. I don’t think this needs any further elaboration.

6. Rocks in the pockets. And shoes. And coats. And gloves. And washing machines. And couches. And chairs. And closets.

5. Constant bickering. Hello, children! This is not normal. No other children could ever have possibly fought and bickered and argued this much.


Errrr….maybe this is what my mom is laughing about. But seriously….lesson learned. Please stop fighting.

20130211-121144.jpg4. Being OCD, even if they come by it naturally and from both sides. Yeah, being OCD is manageable. Dealing with someone else’s OCD is downright nutty-making. Joey insists I shut his door when I take him to bed. Not when I leave. For the 2 minutes it takes to feed his fish and tuck him in. He, my normally calm and cool one, will flip on me if I don’t do it. Why, you ask, is this so important? Because he absolutely does not want the dog in his room at ALL because she may have barfed on his rug twice this summer. He is crazy town about keeping her out. But funny enough, hehas no problem crawling in bed with mom and dad even if Gracie is already in residence…..

3. Sneaky mid-night bedroom swapping. Usually this ends in one or both tiptoeing in and snuggling up with mommy. Which would be fine if it didn’t involve smooshing me into the middle of the bed, jockeying for position with the dog. Never mind the indignant sleepy child who says “I need more of this pillow, Mom”…..[you know you have like 5 pillows in on YOUR bed, right?] This is still generally tolerable when it is one or the other. But when it is both plus us plus the dog, or when I’m getting footed in the neck…yeah then it spells sleep deprived, which we all know is the last stop before Crazy Town.

2. Undressing body parts in transit. This is particularly irritating if it is cold outside and we are in a rush. Who ties shoes well with numb fingers???

1. Always needing just one more hug. Kiss. Hug and kiss. European kisses. Eskimo kisses. Bear hugs. Big squeezes. Elaborate hug and kiss ritual……..wait….I actually love this one, even on those days when it is a deliberate and obvious ploy.

20130211-121031.jpgYep, they drive me crazy. Unlicensed little crazy-drivers that they are. But I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Although, I would like to do something about all that pee…and those boogers.

52 Weeks of Lists?


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IMG_9852, originally uploaded by lisaandmark77.

I love lists. What OCD-sufferin’ fool doesn’t?

I’m a little behind. Week 1, 2, 3, 4 were all good. And maybe I’ll get back to them as 2013 progresses. But since this is a random kind of blog, what does it hurt to start a few weeks late, right?

I found this project while poking around websites looking for Project Life ideas. (Project Life is a scrapbooking style I’m experimenting with for 2013 – stay tuned for more on that another day!) I was here:


And that led me here:


So, let’s see if we can pull this together here.

WEEK 5: Things I am Thankful For

Obviously, my husband – he’s wonderful even if we do drive each other crazy some days! 🙂

My two beautiful and strong willed children – where do they get that?

My dog and her amazing personality. Seriously, she’s hysterical, even when she’s not trying. Except when she’s puking. That is not cool.

My health (even as it tests me and tricks me occasionally)

My mom. My sisters. My brothers. My dad.

My seriously amazing and strong grandma who just survived her first heart attack at age 87. (She’s the middle wine drinker above. I’m on the right. Your right. Her left. My sister is on the left. But her right. And this is an old picture. 2009. Pre-bangs. And only 4 weeks post baby for me. But I’m posting it anyway because it illustrates several things I’m thankful for!)

My aunt. My cousins. My nieces and nephews. My in-laws.

Ok, let’s simplify and say I am thankful for family. {love them when you can}

My job. My husband’s job. Obvious ones, but truth.

Friends. I have great friends.

Laughter. Especially with friends.

Wine. And diet coke. And people who bring me either of these. {I especially like reislings, moscatos and cans of diet coke}

Black fine tip sharpies. {oh, you’re still reading?}

Bacon. Yep, I said it. I cannot get enough. Except for those two times in my life where I ate too much. But it’s back on.

Shelter. Another obvious one that cannot be understated. Subcategory here: two car garage and closets for each bedroom. Having gone without both, I am appreciative and very thankful for them. I will never take them for granted. Ever.

My mind. Sharp as a fuzzy slipper. Seriously – this is a side bar of health, but having my wits about me – I’m thankful I don’t have early onset dementia or similar. I think about these things when I look at the dishwasher and all I can think is “microwave”. But really…I’m thankful for my mind.

Likewise, I’m very thankful for my senses, and in particular for my vision and hearing. Lasik is in my very near future and I’m nervous but SO excited at some glasses freedom.

Oh, thankful for a flex account. And that I’m able to fund it.

I’m thankful for my bed, and I think I better head there.

Thank YOU for reading, and stay tuned to see if I come back for another list or make up the ones I missed. You never know. Still working on the whole blog conversion thing. {Okay, so by working on, I have the site and we just need to do something to move stuff but that part is really the operations (aka husband) side and not the style (aka Lisa) side. Maybe this weekend!}

A Picture a Day Keeps What Away?

January POTD+, originally uploaded by lisaandmark77.

Big exciting things around here tonight.

A. I have electricity. 🙂

B. I’m catching up on American Horror Story. (Following the Super Bowl on the laptop a little bit obviously) and
C. I actually succeeded in completing a Photo a Day project for 31 consecutive days. (Actually, I’m on Day 34, but I don’t want to jinx February just yet).

So, here is a slide show of my “January POTD” …plus a few. I could explain to you that I followed along with a challenge via instagram (love instagram — and you can follow me there @lisaannpeterson) and tell you what the subject was for each of them, but that wouldn’t be quite as random and exciting now would it?

Speaking of random, I have more exciting news tonight. Soon {very soon} I am going to be taking this little {randomly updated} blog on a little journey over to my very own bought and paid for [rented?] URL. Here it is….wait for it…..wait for it….{oh and don’t click on it just yet, right?}….


Clever, eh?

So, what am I going to talk about on this random little blog? Probably a lot of the same stuff I talk about here. Random stuff…posted randomly. I’m trying some new things in the memory keeping department, and that will probably be discussed. Life, love and the pursuit of jelly beans will also be discussed. Hmmm…kid hijinks are always fodder for the ole blog. What I’m up to on Pinterest…..fitness musings…..politics….nah, probably not politics…but you never know. I have addressed the very controversial subject of line jumping previously, so I won’t say never. I will say that I blog when I have time and energy and coherent thoughts. These three things do not often coincide. So…it is random.

Back to the slide show {wait, you never left it?} I’m a Project 365 failure twice over. So, I don’t know how this will pan out, but I do know that it was fun to capture a random but pre-determined subject every day using only my iPhone and my instagram app. I liked it so much I’m doing it again in February. And maybe March. Who knows, by December I might actually pull this off! If there is anything other than a toothbrush I find in my hand every day, it is my phone. 🙂

It’s All in Your Head


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Joey came in this morning very serious. “Mom, I had a dream last night. It was kind of a bad one.”

He tells me he and his dad needed to dig a hole and were looking for a knife and couldn’t find one. (So many layers and questions here it is hard to continue….lol)

He tells me they had to go to the store. They get there and he isn’t sure why but Dad had to go to the bathroom. (I love that: I am forever not knowing why something is going on in my head. But Dad always has to go to the bathroom when we are out so this one just amuses me). In any event, he says he lost his Dad. This of course does not amuse me. It was a treadmill store with big screens and he says that Sal (our elf) was up on all the screens saying ‘Stop that!’ and ‘No!’ and he was pretty upset. He then tells me the store manager told him he’d never see Sal again.


He never told me if he found his Dad or not. But we did talk about how dreams can be very strange and even upsetting and sometimes the thoughts and memories from your day can get tangled up in your head and come out weird. (Yep, that’s an official assessment).

For example:

Joey wanted to use a knife for a project yesterday. We had a discussion he wasn’t entirely happy with.

Joey walked (hiked) on mom’s treadmill. Sal of course was a topic of discussion. And, while we were visiting Santa with friends, one of his friends got lost and we had a brief (thankfully) panic finding him.

The good news is Sal came back this morning.



Oh, THIS one….


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Oh, This One….

I find myself using this phrase when referring to my younger child often. As in…

Oh….THIS one….she is feisty.  Passionate. Kind hearted. This one keeps us on our toes.


This one….always surprises me with a fierce show of bravery at just the right moment. We’ve made some serious strides in dealing with medical professionals in the last month or two. We finally (FINALLY) stand on the scale without a hysterical shrieking fit. (Yeah, hurts me too) And after a try at a “Happy Visit” to the dentist a few months ago where the girl wouldn’t even open her mouth, today we tried and tried again – after a LOT of coaching (again). She did awesome. She sat still. She opened wide. She handled the tools of the trade, the polish and the varnish. And she even remembered her manners without being prompted when she got to pick a new toothbrush. Mom was very proud! (And relieved)


This one….never ceases to force me to cover my laugh with my hand (or hands) when she comes up with something inappropriate (generally said in innocence). She has unfortunately picked up a few of Mommy’s excited utterances, and we’re having to work on a nice transition from “Oh My GOD!” to “Oh My Goodness!” But she will also say “It’s okay, Honey” to her babies and shush them to sleep.

This one….is  Ariel-obsessed. She can spot a red-head at twenty paces. Thirty if she has a scaled tail. No matter where we go, she is forever spotting Ariel – “Look MOMMY! A BIG Ariel! I don’t HAVE a BIG Ariel!” “Look Mommy – Ariel has a new dress! Isn’t she pretty?” Maybe she’ll get up enough courage to talk to Santa about Ariel. We should probably start coaching her for that visit now! (She is still a little freaked out by Sal, our elf on the shelf). She asks me to sing Little Mermaid – which means “Part of Your World” followed by The Crab Song which is really “Under the Sea” and then the fishy one “Les Poissons” (sp?) and the big finish: Kiss the Girl, which she knows the actual name for. The best part is she is learning the words and will start singing along.

This one can cause me to strain my vocal cords yelling in frustration (yeah, not all kittens and rainbows) and ten minutes later after laying absolutely quiet and still for five minutes in her bed, reach over and touch my cheek and whisper “I love you, Mama”. (Yeah, they make ‘em cute so they survive!)

Just call him Crash

Of all the animals, the boy is most unmanageable. – Plato

We’re rushing headlong into December. My mind is cluttered with random observations from this past weekend’s transition into the holiday month. At the forefront of my mind are the antics of my little guy. Age six. Suddenly grown up and serious. And then utterly and disgustingly boy-noxious with such gems as “smell my feet mom. I’m pretty sure they stink”. Oh fun.

Rambunctious and rowdy as any boy, Joey continues to lack perfect balance. The child slipped and fell Saturday afternoon (did not hit his head) across our front ‘porch’ (cement) – it is a very common occurrence between my two children and I am going to convince Mark to resurface it with some of that textured paint next year. Why not add a project to the list, right? Anyway, he fell. It probably wasn’t the first time that day. Tonight at supper he fell off his chair at least once. It just isn’t all that uncommon. But Saturday was special!

In addition to his slider, which gave him a wet seat and sleeve as we were headed out to run errands, Joey also managed to rip his lip this weekend. That’s the best description I can give for it. He tells me he fell on the edge of a TV stand. Undoubtedly while doing some death-defying leaps, of course. He came upstairs with just a bloody little wad of tissues. No tears. No yowling. I could have missed those things, it is possible. But there were adults IN the basement when it happened, and I didn’t hear about any. So, I think “oh shocking, a split lip” because it is winter and lips get dry and both of my kids seem to do that often enough. After a little bit he tells me he thinks there is a hole inside too, so I come over to look. I’m thinking he put his tooth through his lip or something. I shouldn’t have looked. BIG mistake. It looks to me like the lip skin tore up and away from the gum/tooth part, right below the nose. Does that make sense? I’ve never seen anything like it. And honestly, I’m okay with it being a once in a lifetime deal. My stomach did a flip and a flop.

We decided there was no likely stitching it up or even glue, and it had stopped bleeding after a bit, so we just gave him some Tylenol and an ice pack when we got home and he took it pretty easy Sunday. He started the day with pudding, but managed to eat both popcorn and candy later in the day. We did some warm water rinsing and he showed Grandma Connie on the iPad….she suggested we not show anyone else. But if it grossed out Grandma Connie, the Queen of Gross, well, you know it was bad. LOL I  was worrying about infection and muck when it looked all yellow and nasty so we put in a quick appearance over at the dentist today after school just to be sure there wasn’t anything else we should do. Nope. We were doing everything okay and while gross, it should heal up just fine in time. Very happy about that. Wouldn’t want the kid to have a hole in his mouth (an extra, I mean) for the rest of his life.

He has a knack for making my stomach turn. He came about ½ an inch from losing an eye when he was about 14 months old – pulled a stocking hanger down on himself and cut his face. Here is a shot of it almost healed up (yes, it is a cell phone pic, and this is WAY pre-iPhone!):


Ran into a post at daycare at about age 4 – has a very very faint  Harry Potter-esque scar on his forehead. When he was about 18 mos old he somehow sliced up all of his fingers in a room devoid of any sharp objects while I was 2 feet away. I *still* cannot figure that one out. We combed that room for the culprit. And I certainly can’t forget how his daddy tried to scalp him with the ceiling fan circa 5 mos old…..I can’t find any pictures of that……hmmmm….

The good news is, the child is a pretty brave soldier. Where his sister (or honestly, most any child, I think, recollecting my own childhood wounds) would have been a hot mess of drama, he just sort of stood there waiting for me to check him out. He burned himself with the hot glue gun a couple weeks ago (yes, yes, I know….he was under his father’s supervision and he knew the risks involved – they used them down at the Art Center this fall and he has been obsessed ever since…..I understand as I remember my first dance with the glue gun — he has quite reasonably said he thinks he’ll be more careful with it next time!)

He got a little blister on the fingertip he burned. It filled with fluid and I was afraid it would tear. He let me poke it with a needle to drain and then cover with antibiotic ointment and a bandage. He was a little leery but he didn’t even flinch once I did it, and then was very proud of himself for ‘surviving’ the procedure. He will tolerate a tweezers on a splinter without much grousing, and the child practically begs for mommy or grandma to torque his teeth out of his mouth even when he is in visible discomfort…..


Come to think of it, he is calm, cool and collected at the dentist too. Even when getting ‘sleepy juice’ for a filling. He has had his fair share of pokes and prods and does better than even mom does….ahem. It is my firm belief that needles were a lot bigger, longer and more aggressively wielded when I was his age. For the record.

Crossing my fingers the brave little soldier heals up quickly. Mom is squeamish and prays we never have a broken bone . Especially the kind where it pokes out. That may rank right up there in my list of phobias. I won’t be listing them all out, but you now know needles and bones poking out rate pretty high.

I don’t do needles.

Today was “shot day” for the Peterson kids. Annual well-child visits plus flu shots. (And yes, we do the shots — Joey in particular has respiratory issues and frankly, I’d rather the poke to the live virus shot up the nose — call me mean if you will). I’m sure Charlotte will have plenty of therapy as an adult. Mommy making her get a shot instead of the mist is going to be the least of her traumas. Do you know how many embarrassing photos I have of this child?

Now, for those who don’t know, Charlotte has serious white-coat issues. (Even though her poor pediatrician doesn’t even wear a white coat!) For prior white-coat trauma:



I don’t recall EVER getting her to stand on the ‘big girl’ scale in spite of trying every single time since she was able to stand. She freaks out in terror at the thought of leaving Mom’s arms. Getting weighed is a nightmare. Measured? I think we held her flat on the table last year to do it. (She is fully cooperative at home….) In the last year we have at least gotten to where she will let Dr. B examine her without tears — if she is on my lap and not required to talk. She had to have her mouth pried open for a strep swab this summer, and we still haven’t had a proper dental exam due to ‘nerves’ but she will let them check her ears and listen to her heart — this is huge progress…but still NOT a fan. She talks a big game. She gets psyched up. And then she gets scared as soon as they call her name, I swear.

So for today, I decided to take them both at the same time. (Crazy? Perhaps.) Joey is a *great* patient. He was a little owly today — over excited I think. But he will do what he is told and has been through plenty of doctor’s appointments and takes a deep breath like a champ. I was hoping for some big brother modeling here.

Things started off good with weight, measure and blood pressure — Joey did all three with ease. And after some coaxing, Charlotte stood on the scale all by herself and then submitted to measuring AND the BP cuff. This is huge! I may have reminded her that we needed to know how big she was before we could book a trip to Disney next year…..yeah, I know. I need to tone down the bribes, right?

So then we get a little surprise….they want urine specimens. Whoops! Mommy completely failed to prepare either kid for this. Joey had in fact JUST gone to the bathroom and Charlotte just looked at me incredulously when I told her she needed to pee into the “hat” on the potty. After the longest 5 minutes ever, where I coaxed my shy boy to pee in the cup “just a little” in the corner (no privacy) and then somehow managed to persuade Charlotte to hover *over* the “hat” and go pee. I’m pretty sure I threatened a blood draw and promised Cherry Berry or maybe a puppy….whatever…we came out with two urine specimens! Mom is feeling good now.

Next up in the possible trauma department is the finger poke — another one I wasn’t sure would happen, and thus I hadn’t really prepared them for — I had very carefully explained the flu shot, which really (truly) hardly hurt when I got mine earlier this month. Thank goodness Joey stepped up and very confidently said “Oh these don’t hurt. I’m ready”. And he was. He only complained a bit when she was squeezing him for extra blood. Muahahaha. Bandaid on, and it was Charlotte’s first real test. Now, the last finger poke I really remember with her (I’m sure there have been others since, but this is burned into my skull) was the night of her CT scan at an ER out of town. The nurse in her infinite wisdom (sorry) decided instead of drawing blood from the arm (which I agree, is stressful for a baby and I’m assuming is *harder* for the nurse), basically ‘milked’ my daughter’s finger for five minutes trying to coax enough blood out to fill the multiple little droppers she needed to fill for whatever tests she needed run (and which incidentally, the staff there MIS-read and scared us to death until we got back to our pediatrician who calmly explained there was nothing wrong with her kidneys — they were just reading it for adult levels!!!) But I digress…..finger poke. Charlotte was definitely playing the “If he can do it, so can I” game. She gamely stuck her finger out and got her little poke. She didn’t whimper. She was too interested in her pretty pink bandaid. Whew! I figured we were in the home stretch. After all, the flu shot I’d had hadn’t hurt at all. *This is where I need to confess that I am a horrific needle-phobic. I didn’t want an epidural with kids, not because I really wanted the pain but because I was terrified of the needle in the back. I recall very strongly having to be held down by several people in order to get a finger poke when I was a kid. Those needles were HUGE, I tell you! I could recount endless needle-phobic stories — how my IV has come out…how the first time I gave blood after LOTS of peer pressure and psyching up, the tech tapped my vein so tight she sprayed blood all over my chest….how the smell of rubbing alcohol makes me dizzy and sick to my stomach…..so when I say the flu shot didn’t hurt….I mean it. I’m a serious wimp about needles. I’ve come a long way in the last 30-ish years, but so have needles. In any event…I was feeling confident.

We got through the exam and questions with no serious incident. Both did well and are on track for their ages — Joey is predicted to be 5’7-ish — he’s in the 25th percentile for height and 30th for weight. (And he’s 44 inches barefoot — just tall enough for SPACE MOUNTAIN! :)) Charlotte is more her mother’s child — 75th percentile for height, 60th percentile for weight, and about half an inch shy of her first real roller coaster — thank goodness we aren’t going tomorrow, right? Time to grow!) Even better news — the heart murmur she’s had since she was a baby wasn’t discernible today. Yeah!

We wait. The kids are restless. Playful, not really worried about the shot. This is great! As a kid, I fixated on that darned shot the entire time. I’m convinced we’re in the home stretch.

I drum up the nurse. She comes in and Joey is on the table first. She has promised to show him the needle. He doesn’t flinch. *I do* — it appears huge compared to the tiny little thing they used for my shot in the arm. No way I’m wrong, right? Do I have a lack of objectivity when it comes to needles? Nah.

He’s a good soldier. It definitely hurts going in and he yelps and complains it hurt. But no crying. I’m worried Charlotte is going to freak out before we even get her on the table. (This would be par for the course from all of her prior well-child visits, where she can just sense the shots coming and starts freaking out early on) But we make a big deal out of the pink bandaid waiting for her and she gets on the table willingly (this is absolutely a first ever) and I am teasing her as I hold her arms high over her head. She’s all good. Curious about the needle. Says the alcohol rub tickles. And then she feels it. And she gets what I can only describe as her betrayal face. She crumples into this pained tearful face that says “YOU SAID IT WOULDN’T HURT!!!!!! THIS HURTS!!!!!!!!!!!!” and she was a hot mess from then until……..well, bedtime. She was a blubbering, hurt mess. She’d calm down. And then I’d touch her leg buckling her into the car. And she’d start bawling all over again. She whimpered her way to a Motrin and an ice pack at home, and slept until 5:30 when I had to wake her for supper. She woke up a hot mess. Whimpering and crying and just wanting to be held.

Even her new tiara and scepter couldn’t help. Ring pop either. We ate supper, took a nice hot bath and curled up for a movie and put the whimpering mess to bed — hopefully tomorrow is a brighter day. I suspect we will be back to square one with the white coat syndrome now.