This is what happens when you go to church...

Just kidding. This is what happens when you fall down at church! I was merely walking down the hallway on the way to meetings. My son will tell you I was wearing high heels, - but what do guys know about shoes?! No, they were just slides with a gradual wedge; the incline wasn't more than an inch, and they're quite comfortable shoes which is saying something for me. But somehow my right ankle did twist, I lost my balance and came down hard on the left leg and knee. It hurt bad and I did cry out loud enough for others in the foyer to hear me, but managed not to actually shed tears. Darren came quickly back to me to help. His first main response was to be jealous of how my knee instantly started to bruise. He'd fallen on some floor joists a few days before and hurt his shin quite badly. He even went to the doctor thinking he might have cracked or broken it. He hadn't, but his leg was still very swollen and tender. Not a single bruise though, so it wasn't very obvious to others (and thus less sympathy for him). The same couldn't be said about my leg.

Darren helped me into the chapel and we went on with our meetings. The knee continued to swell and turn dark right before our eyes and I had to be careful of my kids kicking me, of course. Not that they have a habit of just kicking me...haha! But accidental kicks and taps hurt

just as much as intentional knocks. Later at home I put it up and iced it. This photo was taken Sunday night and the bruising is starting to show, but the swelling is already down some.

This photo was taken Monday morning, surprising me by getting uglier overnight, but it was nothing compared to what my leg looked like by Monday afternoon!Nice, huh? I admit - I look at it and have to laugh. I guess that's better than crying.

As the week progressed my leg turned darker and darker and the blood from the broken blood vessels went downhill. I was busy doing laundry and getting prepared for our family vacation so I didn't have time to just sit and prop it up all the time. By the time we left I was sporting a completely purple leg from the knee down. My daughter kept telling me how awful my leg looked and my husband kept taking pictures of it. Ahh, how sweet of him. Now when my leg is back to its pasty white normal color I'll have something to help us remember!

Kitty - I love him a lot, but...

There are few things in life more heartwarming than to be welcomed by a cat. -Tay Hohoff  

I love our cat.  His name is officially Oliver, but I mostly just call him Kitty.  Yeah, I know...so original! We got him over a year ago as a fluffy, soft little kitten.  Now he's a big beautiful orange tabby who walks all around acting like he owns the place.  That's because he thinks he does...

"Cats seem to go on the principle that it never does any harm to ask for what you want."  -Joseph Wood Krutch

My neighbor says Oliver feels completely at home walking into her house and taking a nap under her bed.  Then there was the day I got a call from the school principal.  I heard him introduce himself and groaned inwardly, "What now?" as I misjudged my poor little son in that moment.  The guilty party was our CAT!  He'd been following the kids to school and had been walking right in as if he had every right to be there.  I later wailed to my husband that I was good in school my whole life and yet now in later life I still have to talk to the principal; not just for my kids, but that darn cat too!

"For a Man to truly understand rejection he must first be ignored by a cat."  -Anon

Oliver prefers the men in our family.  Don't ask me why, because with

 the exception of Darren, they sure don't like him.  But given the chance he'll go in the boys' room and nap on their bed. He also enjoys Darren's company and purrs for him as he sits on his lap or on the bed with him. He'll perch on the back of Darren's computer chair while he is working there, or just sit on a nearby table where he can be close to the man.  I'm the one who worries if he doesn't come in at night; I'm the one who invites him in and onto my lap; I'm the one who ensures the cat dish has food and water; I'm the one who will give good kitty neck scratches...but does he like me?  No.  He'll allow me to pet him and scratch him when he's in the mood for it, but he'll forsake me for Darren in a heartbeat and always ups and leaves whether I'm done with him or not!

"I have noticed that what cats most appreciate in a human being is not the ability to produce food which they take for granted--but his or her entertainment value."  -Irish Proverb

Although Oliver comes in to eat and sleep, he generally prefers to stay outside roaming around and doing whatever it is cats do.  We do know he's a good mouser and have caught him in the act of playing or catching them right near the house.  Good kitty!!  But he also goes for the birds and will pounce quite high in the air to bring one down.  Considering we've got a nest in the corner of our house, I'm not quite as excited about that skill.  And then there's the fact that perhaps it's taught him he can tangle with others in the animal kingdom...and thus comes the main point of this story - I love my cat, but...

Oliver got skunked!!

Oh yeah.  It's not been pretty.  And love only goes so far, you know? 

 We love you kitty, but "You're stinking up the whole house!  Go outside!"  (And some in our house don't really love him so they were particularly unhappy when he snuck in a nap on their bed!)   (Hey!  I was getting used to the smell and didn't know he'd come back into the house...get over it, will ya!?)  We've given him three baths and covered him in tomato sauce - (is that really supposed to work?) - but the odor remains.  He can't be in the house for more than a few minutes before someone complains and shows him the door again.  It's a good thing he doesn't take a long time to eat.  I feel sorry for the poor pariah, as he's not very welcome around us right at the moment, but although I do think the odor has decreased in pungency, it's not gone.  When I go to pet him, my hand smells skunky afterwards.  I fear it will be quite some time before he'll smell normal again.  With any luck he'll be tolerable before the snow flies this winter.  

I would have liked to relate this story to something deeper and more meaningful, but the stench in the air killed any brain cells that would have come up with that. Therefore, I leave you this as the only moral of the story I was capable of coming up with...

"When you get in a fight with a skunk, you can't tell who started it." -Lloyd Doggett

And one more thing, lest you think I'm not aware of it...

"There is, incidentally, no way of talking about cats that enables one to come off as a sane person." - Dan Greenberg

Dakota Jack

It's said the first shall be last and the last shall be first.  I guess that makes our baby come first, and indeed he wouldn't have it any other way.  At age 2 and 11 mos. this kid currently believes the universe revolves around him and I don't see his opinion changing on that any time in the near future.  

Speaking of opinions, being part of a big family can mean lots of them - and differing ones.  What we call Cody falls into this category.  His daddy calls him his given name, Dakota or Dakota Jack.  His brothers call him Jack.  His sister and I call him Cody.  And now he has a name for himself:  if asked he'll tell you his name is "Tody Dack Webb" or sometimes, "Baby Tody Dack Webb."

Coming last in our family of eight children - of which seven are boys -  Cody can't help but resemble his brothers.  As an infant we thought he looked the most like his oldest brother Jeffrey, who had just left for his 2-year mission to New York City a month before Cody's birth.   Jeffrey didn't get to meet his little brother for two years and wrote us during the first year that he told others he figured the stories about Cody were all a big conspiracy to make him think he'd been replaced!  Amused, we laughingly agreed with him.  But as Cody has grown up his own face and personality have emerged, distinctive and utterly unique.  His body may yet be small, but his presence in our family is huge.

One of the factors of having a child that comes so far after the other children (six years after Justice) is that while they may only be age 1 or 2  - they believe they are no different than the older ones.  It's either that, or kids are just born technologically savvy these days...or both?   Cody can operate the television, the wii, the computers, ipods, cameras, and cellphones all with a proficiency that frightens and amazes me at the same time.  We can regularly find him sitting back on my bed playing with his daddy's ipod touch and doing things with it I don't even know how to do!  He's reprogramed my camera to Chinese and sent several text messages to Darren from my cellphone.  I don't even know how to do that!!  Someone made the mistake of letting him play with a gameboy some time ago.  We must have thought, "Oh, how cute!" - at the time.  Now...it's a big problem.  It doesn't matter how high or well hidden the boys Gameboy DS' are - Cody will find them and will cry if he's not allowed to play them.  He even called himself Mario - Mario Party for awhile.  Darren and I have tossed around the idea of getting him his own.  I just couldn't see buying such an expensive toy for a (nearly) three year old.  But Darren pointed out that doing so wouldn't really be an issue of spoiling him.  Cody just sees the others have these things and he doesn't understand why he is the only one who doesn't have one.  Actually - he calls Justice's DS "my DS."  So for the sake of family peace, he may soon have to have his own DS too.  I just can't believe myself for doing it...(if I do).

I think he's learning - slowly - that some things belong to others just as some things are his own.  But he still believes everything we all have is there for his own use and pleasure, whether it be someone's hidden toy or snacks, or something out in the open.  He's been potty training in the last few months.  One day, noticing a dark stain I asked, "Cody, did you wet your pants?"  His reply?   "No, wet Justice pants.  Uh huh."  And he nodded.  Sure enough, he was wearing Justice's undies!

Mealtimes are a sorta funny issue where he's concerned, because he has way more than the normal three meals a day.  People in our home eat breakfast and lunch at different times throughout the day depending on when they get up, work schedule, and appetite of course.  Cody believes he should get to eat whenever anyone else is eating, and gets a plate out, telling them "Baby likes sammich" or "I like eggs."   He'll have 2-3 breakfasts and lunches in a day sometimes; often eating more meals (snacks) than I realize.  A recent conversation with rest of the family revealed each of the many courses he had with each of them that day, so I no longer feel guilty if he falls asleep at night before he's had dinner.  And heaven forbid if you don't serve him while feeding yourself (no matter if he's already had breakfast)!  On more than one occasion when the older kids didn't give him a waffle (while they were feeding their own faces), I've come into the kitchen afterwards and found him in the midst of a huge powdery mess, bowel and wisk in hand.  He's looked up with a smile on his face and told me, "Mommy, I making!"  Yeah... he sure was.

His language abilities and vocabulary are still developing, but he's not unintelligible to someone that knows him (me) and so cute when he talks.  And while his English isn't perfect yet, he might be picking up on some Spanish already. Or, at the least, there's a chance he could. Cody loves to watch "Dola" (Dora the Explorer) and "Ego" (Diego) and demands to watch them whether they're on or not.  I got smart and recorded a few episodes on the DVR so he could watch them on demand. (Somehow he always got me to turn it on just as Dora ended!)  I just found out one of the older (unhelpful) kids deleted them.  (Thanks so much!)  

Even after all the gameboy struggles and potty training problems and messy messes, this cute kid has carved an enormous part of our hearts out for himself.  The best thing is when he comes and climbs on me in my chair, squeezes me, and tells me, "Mommy, I lub you!"  Let me tell you...being lubbed by Cody is pretty wonderful.

Pride and Joy

I recently read a friend's semi-jokingly comment on facebook about needing anti-depressants now that her son was in his senior year and thus, his last year of high school football.  She's obviously so proud of him and his accomplishments on the field, as well as just being aware of how much she'll miss watching him when the season is over.  

I think I understand her.  My oldest son Jeffrey played the part of Harold Hill in the Music Man while in High School.  I went to almost all the practices and all but one of the performances and enjoyed every minute of it.  At the end of the final performance as we all gave the cast and pit a standing ovation tears were pouring down my face (as they had before).  The relief of the whole production being over (no more crazy life for a while) was mingled with the deep pride in what my son had done and sadness that I might never experience that kind of joy again.  I was wrong.

Since that time I've had the same overwhelming feeling of pride in my children at other times for other reasons.  And it's shown me how individual they each are.   So, no - we may never again get to watch our child in the starring role of the school musical, but seeing them do well in a lesser role (Chip in Beauty and the Beast), or even finding a way to shine in the background (our daughter in Crazy for You) is every bit as wonderful.  And it doesn't take a musical to get my full attention.  At our third son Jeremy's recent high school graduation we got to see him perform with his band.  Normally he plays the trumpet, but on this

 occasion he played the keyboard.  How cool is it to see a kid you saw start music lessons grow and develop to the point he's able to jam on the keyboard with a band while they accompany the choir; the song appropriately named - "Don't Stop Believing."   Can you spell AWESOME?!!  Plenty of tears rolled down my face that night too!

It makes me wonder about the caution we're given about having too much pride.  Or is this kind of pride acceptable?  How can you not be at such times?  I recall the story of my dad turning cartwheels on the field after my brother hit a grand-slam game winning home run.  Gotta love it!   With that in mind I do intend to write about my kids occasionally - or more than that as the situation demands - and don't be surprised if the pride in them overflows from time to time.  The conclusion I've come to is that I can get away with a little (or a lot) of pride after factoring in all the times I've been annoyed to death by them!  It all evens out...right?

How do I look now?

I just spent the last few hours fooling around, "fixing" this blogspot into something I would like to look at - and listen to.  Do you know how many different backgrounds there are out there?  And then there are banners and extras - and that's all assuming you want to use an already existing template rather than creating one of your own.  (Which I did!)  But which one to pick?  Something that will be semi-permanent and suitable for all occasions, or something seasonal?  Happy 4th...Happy St. Patty's Day...Happy Easter!  So many choices and decisions.  Of course I had to add some of my favorite fun quotes, and then carefully choose colors for everything.  What about the playlist?  Which songs out there really say something about me?  I wasn't sure so I just finally picked songs I currently love.  Yeah, okay - easy enough.

The point is - hours later it's as cute as I want it, but still remains blogless for the most part - and thus unfit to share with many friends or family.  So...the least I can do is write about that, yes?  

I relate this to my problem with scrapbooking.  Back when I was doing the paper kind of scrapping I LOVED to go shopping for new stuff.  I got so much fun out of finding cute stuff and imagining the use I'd get out of each wonderful sticker, fiber strand, and brad.  I accumulated so much stuff!  But now it sits there, untouched.  I seemed to have more fun buying it than using it!  Now here again I'm putting more effort into the cosmetics of this project than into content.  Could it be I have nothing to talk about?  That's what I tell myself.  It's hard enough coming up with a lengthy email each week to our missionary son...or so I think until I actually get going on it.  Somehow the thoughts start to flow and the ideas do come.  So I decided I needed to consider that as I go about regular life and stop waiting for our vacation to give me a reason to write.  

On the other hand, I still really am looking forward to that vacation in two weeks....

Getting Started

Well...I finally did it.  I've considered setting up a blog for quite some time, and now it's done.  Turns out that's the easy part.  Now I feel the need to follow up with posts both profound and humorous.   Hmmm....my mind is drawing a big blank - tonight of all nights with the launching of Webbtrails.  But hopefully over time I'll have plenty of ideas and opportunities to work on my writing skills, rusty as they may be, and share a few anecdotes of the life and travels of our family that amused me...or Not, as the case may be.  And I'm bound to post a pic or two or three... ;) ...so hang tight - I'll be back soon.  Ciao!