Serenity Now

The title of this blog could also read "The non-toy toy sale." But I didn't want people accidently surfing into my site thinking there was an actual toy sale much like they drove into my neighborhood the other Saturday following the toy sale sign at the end of the road leading to our yard thinking there was an actual toy sale. They, too, were fooled. Most just drove around in a circle and drove away but a couple got out to glance and then got back in their cars and drove away. One kind family in a van actually bought lemonade and chips from the boys because really.... there weren't very many toys.

Why the title of "Mother of the Year Again??? The day before I spent hours going through the toys to get potential toys to sell. I had quite a pile. I even got a container out of the garage of toys that the boys hadn't missed for months ("extra toys" they were labeled) and thought this would be a great time to get rid of them....wrong. "I couldn't sell this"... "that is too special"... and so on and so forth. They wanted to sell lemonade. O.K. We went to the store and bought lemonade, chips, popsicles and suckers.

Saturday dawned and after setting up and sitting out with them in the heat for 45 minutes and no one coming (we live at the end of the neighborhood) the boys were complaining that not a single sale was made (I was relieved that no one was showing up to the paltry "sale" so I was saved some embarassment... I know... don't pass the halo yet.) After seeing their distress increase I just couldn't stand their suffering any longer. "I suppose.... " I hesitate "if we made a sign" I can't believe the words come out of my mouth...

So we make a sign and draw unsuspecting victims to the non-toy toy sale. Suckers! Well, maybe it won't get me mother of the year again but what mother isn't a sucker sometimes for situations like these? They were so excited to have customers.

There are days when my kids pose such challenges that I tell my sister that I wish I had a fast forward forward button to bring me to the day that my youngest leaves on his mission so I can breath that sigh of relief - no more yelling upstairs to tell boys to stop messing around in the bathroom when I have given what I thought was a simple task of brushing their teeth, no more telling boys to give each other "personal space" at the counter, in the car, on the couch, around the house, in the pew at church, no more silly tattles like "he called me a Pootah!" when they don't even know what a Pootah is (neither do I for that matter).


My sister, I think, wants a rewind button as her youngest son is leaving next week for a mission. I can't believe he is already grown up enough to go but it is true. Two years he will be gone. I know my boys will miss him and miss his teasing. We will miss his funny expressions and his model poses for the camera.




He will do a wonderful job though in South Carolina and I'm sure that the two years will fly by. Lake Powell won't be the same without him but he'll be back in no time to show us more awesome moves on Pirate Island.
Good luck Broc!