THE BLUE BUS IS CALLING US

I lived in a bus. I can do anything! In fact, I have often missed it in the last 8 years that we've lived like unhippie Americans.
We bought it for $700, the Big Blue Bird Bus. In fact, Travis offered the guy $1,000 and he came back with, "I don't know...how bout $700." True story. Yes, it was a family friend as close as a brother, but still. Best deal of the century.
That Bus was solid...except the windows that had been shattered by young punks, back in the day, before we'd gotten it. We had been living in a Chevy van for the 9 previous months, before Bus Days began, and so we were totally upgrading. (Try putting on a pair of pants in a Chevy van. My poor 6ft. tall husband!)
We parked it in a beautiful spot on the Little Salmon River, in the lovely heart of Idaho. We rented the spot for $50 bucks a month. There was no power, no crapper, no sink. It was river water for dishes and potted water for making coffee. It was candles, purchased by the case from Stinker Station, and a propane stove. It was perfect.
We worked minimally and played all day long. We were 20, what can I say? It is the life I would recommend to any good hippie kid that wants to sun tan instead of slave away. It was like being retired. All we needed money for was refried beans, cheese, tortillas, tobacco, beer, and toilet paper.
Travis and I each worked for 3 days a week, cooking at restaurants on the opposite ends of town.
"We have better pizza than you guys," I'd say as I rolled a cheap cigarette.
"Whatever! You don't have the breakfast crowd. I make the best gravy in the state. That's what an old man told me last week." He'd reply opening the top on an Oly bottle.
We made enough money for our life style. We laughed at people that had mortgages and spent their time fighting about money. We kept our money in a box, just in case the bank got any funny ideas. "They want your fingerprint to open an account? I don't think so!"
This time in my life will NEVER be forgotten. We delivered our first baby, and conceived our second, in that Blue Bus. We drove it to Council Idaho to work on a construction job and saved money, in the box, for a chunk of land.
When we purchased our first two acres we decided to build a cabin. The Bus Days were about to end and we were ready after 5 years. The town was so happy that we were moving into a "normal" house that we scored some major gifts and free labor! I cannot count the times that folks approached me and said, "You will be so happy to get out of that bus! You won't ever go back. House living is just too good!"
I moved the last load of stuff out of the bus, on a spring day, and rubbed the counter top down for the last time, before making my way back up to the cabin to live in perfect bliss. And then it happened. I started to cry. I couldn't help it. I stayed down in that bus, just crying. And, I'm not really a cryer.
I knew they were probably right. I would be happier. I could shower and poop in my own house. I could store more things in the freezer than a tub of ice cream and 3 packs of deer steak.
But, still I cried. I was happy, but I was so sad to leave my bus. And this is just how I am.
I know that people said, behind our backs, "I can't believe that he drags his wife around in that thing!!" But, there's a little something they didn't know. That was MY bus. I LOVED that bus. You couldn't punch a hole in the wall. It had a story. It was a friendly, original, old dude with character. We had parties, fights, love, and sleepy Sunday mornings in that beautiful house of ours. And more importantly, no one else lived like we did. If tattoos were original, I would have one, of a bus, on my arm....but they are hip, so I don't.

When we first realized that I was the bus's biggest fan, it was Christmas Eve, 2001. We had decided to drive the bus out to Slate Creek, from it's spot on Squaw Creek Road. We loaded everything up into it's little cubby and we started up the Blue Beast, that actually emitted smoke that matched the paint job.
We rounded the first corner, about 1/4 mile out of the driveway, and it seized up! Just like that...it was dead. We climbed out, swearing, and agitated. There on the road, in a ten foot circumference around Big Blue, were bits and pieces of some strange material.
Travis grabbed up a tattered chunk of the "something" off of the ground and thrust it out towards me, "THIS is our clutch plate!!"
What did this mean to me? Well, by the look on his face, I knew it wasn't good for transportation if it was supposed to still be attached to our engine. Travis commenced swearing and marching around the bus like a man in war. I started to cry. And, I'm not much of a cryer....well, apparently, I am.
"I am so sick of this piece of $#!%.....I am getting a 5th wheel! I am taking this thing out to Bernie Greens junk yard!" He ranted on and on, full of understandable frustration. We had been down this road before....literally.
I stood up and wiped my eyes. I blew out a determined breath of new air. I climbed up into the driver's seat and started talking to myself, with that far away look, like One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.
"I know what I'll do. I'll get someone to work on it. I'll just call someone. Yeah. It'll be fine." I sat in there like that for a little while, with my hands on the steering wheel, having a 2-way/1-way conversation with myself.
Travis stood in the doorway watching me. "You really want to keep it?!"
"Yes, I LOVE this bus!" I breathed.
"You really DO love it, don't you?" He shook his head in disbelief.
And so he reassured me, right then and there, that he would fix it for me. We talked one of our friends into coming and towing us off of the road, as the traffic started stacking up behind us. Mind, you it was Christmas Eve! Our friend told us he would come tow it on one condition.....that we never called him again to move that Big Blue Bird! Done.
It didn't matter that people thought we were mental for living in that Bus. It didn't matter that I had no running water. Yes, it was hard sometimes, but that's what I loved about it. Still, everyone that came into our house said the same thing, "Wow! This is awesome! I didn't think it looked like this!"
And so it is when you love something. It shines with happy energy, no matter what it is. This is why whatever we choose to do, it will be golden. And it will be! I no longer feel the pressure that comes with unhippie American living. The three most important things in this life come with us wherever we go. They are 9, 7, and 2 years old! I am not afraid of what is ahead, because, I lived in a bus. I can do anything!

CHANGING...TO STAY THE SAME

Up until this last year, I've never really desired a break, from my mothering job. I have actually, in the past, been quite put off by moms that were always going on a "girls night" out. I was very contented to sit in the living room for another showing of "Beauty and the Beast." I didn't feel like I was missing out on anything. In fact, it seemed worlds away, the whole idea of "me" time.
In retrospect, I was involved in a very complex form of bonding that needed my full attention, energy, and time. Every child is like a magnet to growth, wisdom, love, and experience...and I was the metal they were pulling on, and clinging to. I love my job, through and through, I really do.
But, last winter, I went through a change. I started swimming up toward the surface for a breath of air. I was gliding through that deep ocean, trying to reach the light, and the fresh life giving oxygen, that made me thrive. I was buried beneath the endlessness of what had to be done in my little world. We all reach this point after a long stint of sacrifice. There is no job that likens to parent hood. It is the most rewarding and challenging job there is!
I had been mothering little ones for almost 10 years, and for me, it was the magic number. I screamed out, "I NEED A BREAK! You will not even like me in 5 years if I don't get a break!!!"
If you are going to procreate and you want your kids to be as cool as you are, you have to give them some of your "cool." Actually, you have to give them so much of your "cool," that it almost disappears. You may, at this point, come off as not so cool.....as you wipe spit up off of your shoulder, change stinky diapers, and make dinner for yelling kids, while in your sweats and ponytail. You have to suffer, not looking cool, because you are lending it to your kids, while they establish who they are in this big ole' world. I have syphoned "cool" off of me for the last decade, and I almost tapped the tank dry. But, I caught it just in time. With the help and support of my understanding husband, I surfaced and was completely refreshed! There was enough starter to get me a whole 'nother lovely batch of "cool" going.
I have spent the last year, in essence, reclaiming my independence. "Quit asking, and start doing it!" I am not just a mother, or just a wife, or just a writer, or just an artist, or just a woman looking for a girls night out. I am Shoshannah. Before anything was attached to me or growing off of me...I was just me. So after a time, of giving it all away, it is quite possible to begin to lose sight of that spark. The spark that builds the fire of "me." It is so easy, as an adult, to start seeing yourself as old and chubby. It takes work to keep a vision of who I really am, in my head, at all times.
Of course, I appreciate the way that time smooths out the rough and immature edges of life. I do love the seasoning that developes through motherhood and wifedom. It is a beautiful thing, and when coupled with the resonance of youthful humor, makes me more of myself, than I ever was.
So, in 8 days, I am boarding a plane. This plane will take me to my old hometown in Alaska, on the Kenai Peninsula. I will see my sister and my brother, for the first time, without my little family around me, in 10 years. We will listen to each other's stories and laugh and swear and not worry about giving the 7 year old a bad world image. We will drink beer and eat crab. We will fish off the deck and take skiff rides in the setting sun. We will go tide pooling and pick up sea shells to take home for the girls. We will drink wine and make good food, in my sister's restaurant. I will be a part of their lives for a whole week.

 And, yes, I will call home at least, once a day. I will listen to stories about camping with Daddy and funny things that the 2 year old said. And I will miss them with an ache in my heart! And, my sister and I will wish that the whole family was with us so we could share our laughs and giggles.
But, it's our turn. It's time for me to figure out what to do with my arms while standing still. That is always the weirdest part for me. I sway and tap my shoulder where my imaginary baby lies. I reach for little warm heads to pat and ruffle. I always feel like I forgot a body part, when I leave my girls. I have to remember what it's like to just be me.
No interruptions in thought while I wait for my plane. No, "I have to poop...now, Mom!" Only my book, the sport of people watching, and possibly a trip to the airport bar. (Oh, yes. It will happen! I know it's spendy, but if I was buying lunch for 5...well, I can surely afford a drink for 1!)
In all things there lies a balance between the extreme polar ends. Life is constant change, and yet it stays the same. There is a system to the chaos. The sun comes up new each morning. No day is like the last. We feel differently today. We look different and hear things in a new way. And yet, no matter what, forever, we are given a new day to do it all over again. Life is an endless gift.
I will follow my Spirit. I won't give in to negativity. I will know forever, that things always just get better. And when I am 75, I will smile as I watch my great grandchildren play. I will laugh, as I watch their mothers stress out over nap times and potty training. I will remember, with joy, my years of precious mothering and raising beautiful women. And, yet, I will still be me. The same little girl that liked to scare her sister with spiders. The same one that put on plays in the living room, just to make everyone laugh. I will not lose myself on this road I travel.
When I feel it slipping, I will stop and see just what changes need to be made, and then I'll make them. I will grab onto the edges, and scratch and claw my way back to the surface. Sometimes, it comes with a fight and frustration. Sometimes it's given in love and patience. But, no one said it would be easy. Just great. This life is the best gift I've ever been given. And to give that life back, is my gift. I do not resent any change that I have been through, because all of these beautiful people that I share my time and love with, are who allow to become more of myself, day to day. What a ride!!

 

SCHOOLING KIDS AT HOME

School is around the corner. I can feel it. I actually still celebrate the fact that I am done with high school...and it's been 16 years! But I do love to teach and to spend time with my kids, so we homeschool our three girls. I get a barrage of comments and questions when I tell people this. I will address these for you, because they are so common, that it is worth an article...or a book.

"What about socialization?"
This is by far, the most over used question regarding homeschool. I got really sick of it, the first year. Probably because I was just starting and I really didn't know what to tell people. I do now, after 5 yrs of doing this, know what my answer is.
For starters there are are weird unsocialized homeshoolers out there. I will not lie. I've met them. But, 10 times out of 10, their parents are weird. They live 300 miles from town, have goats in their kitchen, and have a bomb shelter for the Armageddon that is coming every year. "It's really the end of the world. Pastor Crazy said it's happening May 11th."
We are very social people so our kids are, too. I'm not saying I'm not weird. I'm just not crazy. It's okay to be different. In fact this will make our society stronger in the long run.
Besides, where in society, are people going to run around in groups of 30 people, that are all the same age? School. That's where.
In real society there are people of all different ages, back grounds, ethnicity's and ideas that get along and make the world an exciting place to be. My kids are as interested in talking to 65 year olds as they are to 3 year olds. They like people. I will never think for a minute that they are not socially healthy.

"Oh, you must be so patient! I could never do that!"
No, I am not. And, yes, you could. But only if you want to. I am not the most easy going Mother on this planet. Not even close. I do work hard at controlling my frustration level, though, especially where the family is concerned, but we all have a breaking point.
I do not believe that my way is the best way for everyone. I really don't. It's the right way for us, for now, but we all thrive with different influence and stimulation.
I used to crack the whip at 7am. I had crying, frustrated children by the time 8am rolled around. Clothes were half on, kids were half fed, and we were all half crazy.
I now ease into the morning. Everybody has a different biological clock. This is born in us and cannot be yelled, beat, pleaded, or scorned out of our genetic make up. That is why, that one kid that takes forever to put their shoes on, may forever do so. Is it really that bad? Start earlier, keep her on task, and don't ask her over and over again, "What is wrong with you?" It's not fair to say that somebody is wrong because they work differently than you. We all have our gifts and usually they come with a curse.
I make sure that everybody has eaten and had tea. Most mornings we go on a walk before we sit down. Children are very physical beings. They've been laying down all night long. Don't get in a hurry. You will get it all done. I have 1 teacher to 3 students. The odds are pretty much on my side.
We also make sure we take lots of breaks, when the kids lose interest. As 5 yr olds, their attention span is about 10 minutes long. I extend this with story, song, and movement. Then we go outside. The lessons always continue throughout the day. Sometimes, into the next one.

"Do you use a curriculum?"
Yes, we use a curriculum, for the most part. I started with Calvert, which turned out to be a bit too lengthy and worksheet oriented for our style. They have good books, are very expensive, and it was frustrating. It took me almost 7 hrs to school one kid!! That's like college...not first grade. (Poor girl! The first one is always the guinea pig.)
Now we use Oak Meadow, primarily. www.oakmeadow.com/ For all of our other needs, I shop local bookstores, and order off of Amazon.
Whatever subject feels lacking, we add to. Oak Meadow's math is rather vague. "Make your own math page." Okay, no. I'm getting a work book. We can group together and count rocks all day long, and it's great. But, getting a math book is pretty much essential to school. I am NOT going to make up a page of 20 questions, for each function, for each student, every single day. It's not going to happen.
A curriculum keeps you in check. Because when you are trying to run a household and be a teacher, it can get a bit tricky. One, thing that is a must is to NOT get on the internet, while teaching. And you MUST ignore your dishes! It's not very practical to make up your lessons everyday, especially at first. It can be done, but it might end up being the only thing you get done.
"Honey...um, did you make dinner?"
"No, dear. I am working on my fractions page, again. Heat up a waffle. You only worked in the hot sun for 10 hours, but I've been ignoring the housework and working on this darn lesson plan all day. I'm exhausted."
There are endless suppliers and contacts that you can find on line. Also, there is usually a homeschooling group in your area that could help you out a lot.
It always gets easier, the more you do it. So just keep researching, trying, testing, replacing what doesn't work, and using what does...until you all are happy.

"Is public school against your religion?"
No. It's totally not. Do I agree with every teacher's philosophy? Probably not. Do I think it's good for kids to have different points of view presented to them? Absolutely! Do my children miss out on this? I don't think so.
We travel a lot. We like our own schedule. Home school is a great choice for our life style. I always wanted to be a teacher. My parents are all teachers, writers, speakers, and generally very creative. It was a very natural choice for me. (Kind of like home birth. *Article to come in the near future.)

"How long are you going to do it?"
I don't know. It's what we are doing now and I don't know what my kids will be needing and craving when they are in Jr. High. Of course, that's probably the time to lock them up and throw away the key. About the time they start wondering about kissing, I will move to the top of a mountain with my shot gun. Not really.
They want to spend time with us right now. They think we are cool. They probably won't want to be around me 24-7 when they get a drivers license. Just a hunch. I remember the age. So, I will take this time, when they look to me for everything and think I am an endless source of entertainment, to be with them. I know this is a very short, precious time. The bonding is irreplaceable.

"Do you have to check in with somebody? I mean, how do you know you are teaching them what they need to know?"
Two questions in one. It's how they are usually asked, so I will keep them grouped together.
No, I don't have to check in with anyone. I am an Idaho resident and we have the most chill laws that there are, regarding schooling at home. This is great for me, but bad for homeschoolers that may not really be homeschooling.
I am completely against not doing anything with home schooled kids. If it's at this point, and after much trial and error and give and take, you are still not teaching these kids something...then for the love of God, put them in school!! Watching Days Of Our Lives and eating Twinkies is NOT homeschooling!!
Most states have a teacher, or group of them, that you check in with. There are, as I stated homeschool groups, however, that you can associate with. Look on the Internet or talk to someone who knows.
As for how I know they are getting what they need from me...well, that has been quite the evolving revelation.
At first, I was way stressed out, because I thought that I had to model after public school. I was always asking my girlfriends, "Are they doing cursive yet. Does he know how to spell 'neighbor?'"
But, kids and curriculum's are all different, and they may introduce things at different times. Some give material far before it's practical, in my opinion. Of course, every child develops at a different rate. I was a very fast reader. I expected this out of my first one. She was not. However, she was potty trained at 13 months, climbing trees at 3 years old, and drawing pictures that would blow your mind! This was not a stupid girl. She just didn't care about reading, yet. But, when it was time, and her interest peaked, it wasn't even a challenge for her. So every day if I am challenging these kids at, and a bit above their level, then they cannot possibly be "left behind."

If you want to homeschool, talk to people that do it. Don't talk to people that will put a fear into you, that it is impossible and that you may just be crazy for even thinking about it. You can do whatever you put your mind to! Isn't this what we teach our children? Go to it!
And for those of you that public school, stay involved and spend as much time with those kids as possible.(And enjoy your day of "you" time...because, at least once a month, I am completely envious of that!!)

HAIR CARE FOR HIPPIES

Do you want a new hair style without spending your entire check? Do you want to color your hair, but not load it down with chemicals, and not have the funky grow-out line? Do you like to do things at home, while having a party and watching your children run around? Do you like herbs and natural conditioners and earthy smelling loveliness? I do. And that's why I use Henna.
I like to be a red head, at least twice a year. It fits my sassy personality and makes me feel good. It's change that is actually good for you. No plastic surgery and permanent waves for this girl. I am the rustic red rebel!!
You can buy Henna in any health food store. It is a plant that is dried, powdered, packaged, and usually boxed. I buy it in 1 lb. bags from Starwest Botanicals. I also make sure that I am buying PURE Henna and not some dye that is just pretending to be Henna. It can be stored in an airtight container in the freezer so that it doesn't lose it's dye properties. http://www.starwest-botanicals.com/_search.php?page=1&q=henna

It comes in many different colors (browns, blacks, reds...) and is easy to prepare and apply. It is a bit messy, so you will want dark towels, rubber gloves, hair comb clips, an old t-shirt, salve, and a good friend that likes to listen to music, drink beer, and play hippie salon. Warning: having men in the house while you do this is not advised. They will drink your beer AND laugh at the bag on your head. They will also make you worry about how dark it is getting and that you'd better wash it off. And they'll drink all your beer, did I mention that?
First you will mix your Henna with warm water, until it is the consistency of Mayonnaise. (Don't worry it's not the same texture as sandwich spread, it's more like cow patties.) We usually seep chamomile tea bags in our water before we put it on. It makes brighter highlights and smells good too! Adding lemon juice and/or beer, makes the acid content higher and pulls more dye properties out of the Henna. We also add a couple splashes of olive oil or coconut oil, for a conditioner.
Use wooden or plastic spoons and a glass or plastic bowl for mixing. Metal is not advised only because the acidic henna may tarnish certain metals. But, if you are like me, and you don't care what your dishes look like...then use whatever you want. (At this point you can also freeze batches for later. They don't go bad and the consistency is great when it comes out of the freezer.)
Turn up the music very loud and give the kids a project to work on that will keep them busy. Pour some beer in the mix and drink the rest of the can...or bottle. Wine would also work, I think. Tell me if you try this, because I never have. I like to suggest things that I have not tested for myself.
But, I am not afraid. In fact, I will do it and let you know what happens.
Apply some salve to your hairline, tops of ears, and forehead. Depending upon how much beer your Henna partner has had, you may want to apply it to your whole face! It will dye your skin, but no worries. It fades after...about 3 days.
We wet our hair and pat it off with a towel. This makes the Henna application, go a little smoother. However, having dry hair may soak up more of the dye. Your call. Put on your junky t-shirt and wrap the dark towel around your shoulders. Really work that dye into the roots and then out towards the ends. We do ours in sections and then pin it up with hair combs until the entire head is covered and looks like you went cow tipping...on the wrong end of the herd. Wrap a plastic grocery bag around your head and tie at the bottom. I like to put on a bandana or hat at this point, so I look less like a martian, and more like a hippie.
Do not be tempted to try the red Henna on your 5 year old daughter, that has light blonde hair, no matter how much she begs! (This is the disclaimer for the gals that drink more beer than they put into their Henna mix!) The result will be a beautiful combination of Peter Pan and Ariel the mermaid, but people will look at you strange and wonder what possessed you to "dye" your child's head brazen red. No matter how much you insist that it is an herbal remedy for cradle cap...they will NOT believe you.
Of course this brings me to the best point about Henna. It does not grow out in a strange line that you have to keep dying over and over again, like a punk rock hero. It fades away naturally and the highlights just get more and more beautiful! Obviously, the longer you leave it on, the brighter (or darker) it gets.
My BFF, and I, have actually tried the heat application. This involved a Ford Econoline Sauna Van, plastic grocery sacks on our heads, more beer, and a complete disregard of the clock. The longer the better. I literally woke up the next morning, and thought that my hair was not mine. Wow. Can anyone say, Strawberry Shortcake?
If this happens to you and you don't really care, then you are a true Hippie-Salon girl. Just wear a hat, laugh at yourself before anyone else can, and it will be mellowed out within a week.
When you do decide to wash it out, your shower will have greenish-red color running down the drain for at least the first couple times. Do not fret. This is normal. Henna is like food for your hair and it will love you when you are done. Don't listen to your husband if he gasps in surprise when he sees you. He is only doing this because you are a Henna Goddess that deserves to be worshipped.
Enjoy the change. Enjoy the comments of, "How do you get those gorgeous highlights in your hair? It's so shiny!"
Happy Hippie Henna day, to be coming soon, to a kitchen near you.

STRESS REPELLENT

I could have had a really crappy day yesterday. It slowly started snowballing when, after writing for two and a half hours, my article got erased. I just put my hands over my face and said, "ugh." Well, it sounded more like, "UAUGHAIUGHEEE!!" (That is a natural, organic cuss word, to be used when anger is clowded by disappointment, in it's most raw form.) I shut the computer with a bang and wished to all things holy, that I had a little time machine. Reasoning quickly disappears, when stress is thrust upon me.
I walked outside and paced around in a wide, crooked circle and muttered to myself, "I should have just pushed the stupid copy and paste button! Stupid computers. NO! I'm not going to worry. It always works out. But, It was SO PERFECT! I can't get it back. Yes, I can! It will be better next time because I've had 2 1/2 hrs of practice. Oh, what a waste of time! It's like running over my dog....well, his back leg at least. Maybe both back legs."
You may think that I am schizophrenic, but this was me, fighting off the bad day. It's positivity with a negative sweater/vest on. I know what the alternative is. Crying, laying on the bed in the fetal position, screaming, lighting things on fire, etc. When a small tragedy like this happens to another person, we all say the same thing, "Oh, I'm sorry. That sucks. Well, don't worry about it. It'll be okay." We say this because the tragedy is not ours. It has not personally attacked us.
We all have days that go like this. Usually, it's not just one incident. It's a series of small catastrophes. And, like attracts like, so if you want to break the chain, it takes some major mental, emotional, and physical exercise to do it.
I chose going to the laundry mat, which is like a combative sport here in North Dakota, where there are a dozen washers and a million rough necks. I loaded up the trash, the library books, the smelly laundry, and my journal and pen. I would go old school and start completely over on my perfect article. I am so full of words that I could do it again. It just needed a new set of back legs.
On the way to Watford City, there was a tremendous amount of traffic and road construction. I was going about 30 mph. I flipped through the XM channels. Alice In Chains...nope. Slow, sad music by some throaty dude that whisper-sings....nope. Lost 80's hit...buddy, there's a reason they lost that hit...nope. BLACK CROWS, Twice As Hard....oh yeah! I rolled down the window and embraced the muggy-ness of ND. I turned the stereo up to break-the-sound-barrier level and sang at the top of my lungs! I was butt-dancing in my seat and feeling generally giddy now. The cloud above my head was lifting!
My heart leaped with lovey feelings for my husband. He was at home with little girls that were waking up. He was putting on the Tom & Jerry movie. He was making breakfast burritos. He knew what I needed, probably more than I did!

By the time I reached the laundry mat and jockeyed for position by the triple loader, I was feeling like my happy little self again. The ladies were laughing, folding clothes,and trading wash tips. I was in the arms of love. I glanced across the line of whirring washers and recognized the lady at the quarter machine. Marathon-Mama-My-New-Hero-Glowing-Lady from the playground, with the 14 kids! Oh, this was going to be a GREAT day.

"Hey! How are you?!" I hollered a greeting and we started chatting about how to wash "greasers" with Dawn soap. We went out and sat on the bench. Me with my journal and pen, trying to reclaim my long lost treasure, and she with her purse full of quarters and her 14 year old daughter by her side, book in hand. She was obviously enjoying a break from the mayhem of the mobile home full of little boys and her little darlin' pixie baby.

Far from my mind, now, was the ugly pit that had formed in my stomach after "the article catastrophe." I no longer felt like I was emotionally drowning. It could have gone so differently.
Sometimes we just need to let go and sing. I can not control the Universe in its entirety, but I sure can embrace the day, whatever it may bring, and not give up. I didn't give up.
This is, essentially, a disclaimer for the reason nobody saw a new Honest Mother article yesterday, in case they were looking. I was involved in a battle to stay sane. I was fighting like a warrior, and I won. My new improved article that can never be erased, which is the beauty of pen and paper, is lovingly tucked in my purse awaiting publication and clarification. It looks a bit like secret code and a map to Neverland. Meaning, that there are arrows, lines, circles and words, all bunched into paragraphs and written with love. I don't really want to look at it today. Instead I will make nachos extraordinaire, and play with my kids in the grass. I will read the 2 yr old's favorite book for the hundredth time. I will turn on the stereo and clean my refrigerator. I will make my bed and watch a Netflix movie.
Life is certainly good!

TIPS ON SUMMER SURVIVAL WITH KIDS

Summer is the time we all wait for. We suffer through the cold months and glisten through the spring, anticipating the time where we can swim, sip lemonade, get a tan, and stay up late with the dim light of dusk and twinkling stars.
But, July and August can be sweltering, depending on where you live, and you may decide that fall is looking really good by now. I know that we are all feeling it, here in North Dakota, with the heat wave that has been sweeping through the Midwest. I am used to the dry heat of the Salmon River Canyon, in Idaho. The humidity makes for a sticky, muggy, oppressive sauna like feeling and it saps every bit of energy from a body.
But, no matter where you live, summer is a time of growth and change. There are many little things that we can do to stay happy and healthy, and help our kids thrive and smile.

WATER, WATER, WATER!
As adults, we punish ourselves more than necessary. Laying on the beach in the hot sun, drinking beer, and minimal water is very dehydrating. But we do it. And it's fun. And we survive.
Kids don't just lay on the beach. They run, jump, dive, swim, chase, push, pull, climb, and step on towels with sandy little feet. All of this, while we lay in one spot and occasionally slip in the River for a dip, and drink more beer.
Those little sweet faces turn red from sun and run, and they surely NEED to stay hydrated. Water creates life. Without is, there is no survival.We've all heard the body-earth-water ratio thing. The earth is 70% water and so are we. If we deplete this we will slowly shut down, dry up and blow away, right? Obviously, we all make it through the dog days, but it is surely something to be considered.

The thermos style water jugs are great! Fill them up with ice and top off with water. They keep your drink ICY cold for hours! Add some slices of squeezed lemon, lime, grapefruit, and orange....wala, you have a zesty refreshing elixir. Not only is it yummy and kids love it, but the citrus actually helps regulate body fluids! Of course it also has folic acid, potassium, and Vitamin C. Fresh, is always best! 
Always take a cooler with a lot of ice. Nobody likes to drink warm water in the summer. It's really good for the body, I've always heard, but the truth is....no kid wants it when it's the same temperature as the weather. Yuck.

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Getting each family member their own water bottle is a great way to keep kids excited about hydration. They won't call it that. Most likely you'll just hear, "Mom, where's my bottle?" But, it is worth the investment and it makes them feel grown up.
I have been part of the plastic pollution, in a pinch, however. The cases of spring water are SO convenient on a trip, and thrown in the icy cooler, are very appetizing. It's NOT the best choice as far as trash goes, though, not to mention the nasty thin plastic properties leeching into the water. BUT, I will do it on occasion because it's better than nothing at all.

FRUITS & VEGGIES!
Children are growing, changing, and building bones, muscle, and tissue at an amazing rate. In the first year of their lives they actually DOUBLE their size! Isn't that awesome? What a great time to keep an eye on what goes into that foundation of development. We adults are not changing like that. Our change becomes mental and emotional, at this time in our lives, rather than physical.
It is of vital importance to remember that children need life giving sources for this growth. Well, balanced meals are great...but the issue here is surviving the summer heat, not carbing up for a winter sport.
Fruit and vegetables have the highest water content of all foods. They are sun and rain in edible form!

Lunchables don't do it. Yes, they make a proverbial turd, but they have no fiber and are dehydrating. Don't get me wrong. I'm a huge PBJ person. But, for the most part, I feed them fruit and veggies until they need a grounding balance from more carbs, fat, and protein.
Stock your cooler and baskets with fruit that is sliced, peeled, Ziplocked and ready to go. This will make it accessible and not just a good idea that you had, that never really worked out. "I packed a watermelon...they just didn't eat it." Yeah, well, it was sitting on the hot sand and you forgot a knife. This isn't Castaway. They aren't out in the bushes with the blade of an old ice skate, fending for themselves. They will eat what is easy to get at. And that's what you'll hand them.
Slice up cucumbers, put them in a Tupperware, and dribble with your favorite Italian dressing or seasoning. Wash and cut celery, and pack with nut butter or eat them plain. Celery is actually known for hydrating you more than water can. It's got sodium that is good for your heat defenses. Pack salads in Tupperware tubs, heaviest veggies at the bottom. Bring your favorite dressing and a fork.
Cherries, grapes, berries, apples, citrus, plums, peaches, nectarines, and pears are fast food ready to go! They beat Gatorade's electrolyte thing, all to hell. These are super power foods! There is no trash involved! You just eat and toss the pit or core. It's a lovely thing.

KEEP COOL!
Gramma taught me this one. She pounded it into my head, as we would garden in the sun. "Hun, you just need to keep your neck cool and then your whole body will stay cool." She would wring out her little towel, swing it around in the air to chill, and then wrap it around her neck and tuck the ends into her shirt.
We use bandannas, but you can buy, or make, the ones that have gel crystals in them. They stay wet for a lot longer.

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Of course we all know the wonders of air conditioning and swimming. Sprinklers are great and so are kiddie pools in the yard. The key is to stay sane in that heat and sun. It is good for you if you use common sense.

I have never been a huge sun screen advocate because we all tan very easily and I believe it is good in moderation. However, when we plan to be out on that beach camping it up and neglecting all things responsible, we do the sunscreen thing. I also takes tons of Green Salve and moisturizers. Coconut oil is the bomb! 

My resources for all of this information are....10 years of mothering Salmon River Idaho girls! I am completely convinced that Harvard will put out a study, for a trillion dollars, that proves everything that I just said. Then it will be on CNN and the world will go..."Oh, the sun is good," or "Oh, plant food does keep you hydrated. Who knew?"

We don't need somebody to tell us what we learn through experience and our instincts. We all know what we should do. Now let's go do it!

BEAT THAT, KATE GOSSELIN!

We went to the playground again, yesterday. It's the highlight of our lives, during the week while Travis is working on the oil rig. When the big kids start bouncing all over the camper, and energy is just shooting off of them, and when the 2 yr old starts taking off her clothes and floundering all over the floor, like a bug that got flipped over....it's time to go. I take a basket every time I leave my camper. "Mom, where's the basket?" It's like a camel hump. I could go for days off of what I put in my basket. But, it takes the 3 girls about an hour to strip it bare; piranha style. Water, tea, juice, apples, pears, grapefruit, almonds, phone, journal, book, pen, and mosquito repellent. I perched on the picnic table and started reading my book. The girls spread out and attacked the play ground equipment.

Not long after I'd been there, I saw a girl walk up with a baby. From where I was sitting, without my glasses, I thought she was the Mom. A little boy with a buzzed hair cut came whizzing by on his bike. Then another one. Then another one. It was like the clown car...but without the car. I searched for my little girls' heads, in the sea of swarming bicycles. 1, 2......3, whew, they're all still there.
I assumed that I was seeing two different groups of kids arriving at the park. As I watched the girl with the little baby, it became clear to me that: A) my book is not NEAR as interesting as people watching, and B) she was definitely NOT the Mom.
About that time I saw Mama walking up with 3 more little buzzed cut boys circling her legs. She was smiling and didn't look at all like she was counting heads. (She would've needed an abacus!!) She picked up the baby, like she'd done it a million times. The girl, who was probably 14, followed her over into the shade. The biggest boys kept flying by my picnic table and the littlest ones played on the slide, by Mama. She sat in the grass. I watched her out of the corner of my eye, still holding my book as a prop. No way, these are all her kids. 

My girls were stoked! All these little boys to play with and show off for! I walked over to the swing set where the teenage girl was now pushing her little sister. I heaved Tenesee, the 2 yr old tank, into her swing. She looked like a giant compared to the little fairy-like baby who hadn't made a peep since I'd been spying on them. She was so little, in fact, that her head would bump back and hit the seat of the plastic tot swing, about every third push. Wow...I don't think I would've pushed my 6 month old in a swing that early! Maybe Mama isn't watching. I looked around like an FBI agent. Where was the Mama?

About that time, she whizzed by on a bicycle! She was keeping up fairly well. Seemed to me that every one of those boys looked like her. I made a head count, because, apparently I was the only one worried about it. 1,2,3,4...5,6...no way..7...and the baby makes...8!!

I could keep my mouth shut no longer. (Mind you, this all happened in about 2 minutes....so I broke no records.) "These can't all be your brothers?" She smiled at me. The baby bumped her head again, and smiled at me.

"Yup." She replied, unfazed by the chaos of the bikes around her. They were actually all very well behaved, now that I think about it. There was one little boy that kept crying, but I think he was ticked off because he kept missing out on the bike riding. The Mama seriously couldn't have fit 6 bikes in her car! So she'd packed 3, and they were all taking turns.
"Wow," I replied. I gave Tenesee an underdog...just to show big sister how strong her neck was. "That's amazing! So are you the only girls?" I assumed the baby was a girl. She was wearing a green romper and she looked like Tinkerbell, with red hair.
"Um, actually I have 9 brothers and 4 sisters. There are 14 of us, all together." She pushed the baby and smiled, like she'd just commented on the price of corn. I gasped! 14!!!

I didn't think about the diapers, as I pushed Tenesee higher and higher. I didn't think about the laundry pile, or the sharing of the bathroom, or even the amount of spaghetti it would take to feed them all. I thought about being pregnant...14 times. That's 126 months...10 1/2 YEARS of pregnancy!!! 14 labors. 42 months, at least, of morning sickness. 14 hospital bills.

What did her husband do for a living?! Was he, by chance, a gynecologist? Or, maybe a pediatrician? Did they have stock at Albertson's? Did he clip coupons for a hobby? Did he have a sponsor for Christmas?

Mama returned from her bike-a-thon and I attacked her with questions! I was, literally, in awe of this baby machine! This woman could have two basketball teams, with subs. They may have been a little uneven, but she'd have some forwards, some point guards, and some major man-to-man defense! She and her husband could be the coaches. Add the extended family and they could fill the bus on game day!! (Sometimes, it is a curse to have this vivid of an imagination. This was one of those times.)

Now, don't get me wrong. I did not think, "Holy crap, are you insane?" Or, "Do you have any feeling left in your breasts?" I have always been a big fan of people that do things that nobody else would dare to do. I thought she was AWESOME!

No, I didn't want to have another baby. But, I felt like a big weenie, for ever whining about grocery money, or not getting a break, or not sleeping through the night. Compared to her, my statistics sucked! She was the Babe Ruth of baby making and I was like the high school hitter that maybe made it to home base a few times. She was my new hero, and I didn't even know her name!

We talked for an hour about North Dakota and all the job opportunities and the skeeters and, of course, mothering. She was really funny and full of life and very calm, considering. She laughed easily and there wasn't ONE grey hair, that I could see, in her locks of brown. She didn't look tired or bitchy or worn out or even irritated. She was glowing. (Probably an after-effect of being pregnant for over 10 years.)

"So, did you plan all of this...I mean, did you grow up thinking you'd have a ton of kids?" I was in awe, I couldn't help it.
"No, we just let whatever was going to happen, happen. Whatever came our way, we went with it." She said.
"Yeah, but, I mean...I feel crazy with 3 girls to chase....! 14?! You must not go out to eat very often?" We laughed. (No, but really....)
 "Well, it's just not as hard as you would think. The big kids help out a lot. They have to! We DON'T home school, and I teach them to cook at an early age. Two of my sons are grown and have families, and my two oldest girls are in college, and my 16 and 17 year old sons are working with my husband's oil trucking company. Yeah, this is little number 14," she waved her hand at the little pixie that was still occasionally bouncing her head off of the red plastic swing seat and cooing away, "She is a year and a half old, now."
"Oh, my gosh! She's so tiny! Tenesee was that big at 5 months!" I replied, looking again at the moose I was pushing in my swing. My little Buddha grinned and yelled, "Jinkies, Mom, give me an underdog!"
"She was a preemie," marathon Mama continued, "She was 27 weeks at birth and about 1lb. She spent 4 1/2 months in the hospital. She's been on oxygen, at night, up until 2 weeks ago."  I looked at that brave little soul, smiling in her swing, and loved her for being alive. She was a tough little cookie!
We talked about how awesome it is that our bodies, just grow those little babies so perfectly. When they come out early, they are on their own in a big, harsh world, without the cushion of Mama's body to protect them and give them what they need. So, often we take this miracle for granted. She did not take it for granted. I think her body probably just said, "Seriously...14 times! I'm done. You are on your own with this one!"
I don't care what religion you are or aren't. If you had 14 kids you would start to pray. "Two loaves and five fishes...please multiply. Water, please turn into wine....so I can stay sane with all of this chatter. Lord, please bless us with a double wide Suburban and 100 lbs of wet wipes."
I gathered up my hungry little breed of girls. I thanked her for the visit. I gave a silent blessing on the working Dad and the non-stop Mama of that beautiful family. The big girls jumped on their scooters. I grabbed the empty basket and the dog leash that was tied to the front of the 2 yr old's tricycle. I pulled her gently down the sidewalk and breathed a sigh of contentment. I was headed home to make finger steaks and rice. I would  fix 4 plates before my own. This seemed so simple to me now.

     I hope I see her again.

RECIPE TO FEED THE MASSES...REFRIGERATOR SOUP:
In honor of Mother Theresa and her million children, I am contributing my mainstay soup recipe. This is a use your imagination to fill in the blanks kind of creation.
I always buy meat and veggies. On refrigerator soup day I use up what needs to be used up. Today is that day, because we are deep cleaning our camper like my mother in law is coming for dinner. She's not, but we are. SO here it is.
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT measure. This is approximate. Use your common sense, that God gave you, and if something looks like too much...slack off. If something looks like not enough....add more.
1 onion
2 stalks of celery
2 cloves of crushed garlic
3-4 chicken thighs
2-3 qts of water
1 can of tomatoes (or a couple fresh ones)
1 bay leaf
1 tsp basil
5 potatoes
3 carrots
1 cup of frozen corn
2 Tbsp olive oil
salt
pepper
2 tsp sugar...I KNOW...but Gramma taught me this..and it works~
good lovin'

Now, I start with boiling my chicken, herbs and garlic, on the back burner. At the same time, I am supervising the breakfast cook, who is using the front burner and who is also 7 years old.
After a couple of hours, or however long it takes to wash dishes, dress the 2 year old and walk the dog, I separate the broth from the chicken and put it in a bowl to cool. (You can stick ice cubes in it to harden the fat so it's easier to scoop off. I don't like greasy soup, unless I am hungover.) I de-bone the chicken and put the meat aside.
With my now empty pot, I pour in the olive oil and saute the chopped onion, crushed garlic, and chopped celery. Mmmm. It smells good. At this time I also have to make lunch because the smell is causing the small children to whine about how they are hungry...again.
After this has cooked on low for a bit, I add my chopped carrots and potatoes. I like them to gather up that good lovin' before I put in the de-fatted, cooled broth.
After, wiping the 2 yr old's face and putting on "Scooby Doo," I add the chicken, can of tomatoes, and the broth. I let it simmer for an hour and a half, give or take. This gives me enough time to slave drive my small children on the detailed camper cleaning chores. I put on "Bob Marley" and turn off the TV. The baby whines. I give her a frozen banana.
Then I make biscuits or some other lovely thing like grilled cheese to go with it.
This is done at the perfect time. And, again, I am the hero. The kids LOVE it. They also LOVE to help. The ones that can use a knife do. The one that can't can use a peeler. I do not peel my taters because I like the natural ruggedness of the skin. The peeler simply keeps her occupied for a whole 2 minutes....maybe.

Happy soup creating! And, don't forget the salt, pepper, and sugar. It makes every thing yummy!