Motherella

When I was in Jr. High one of my friends called me

Kristarella

It was due to the fact that my family was large

and much was expected of me

but I have no regrets, for I can efficiently

vacuum, dust, do laundry, make dinner, throw a party,

text and talk on the phone

all at the same time.

I recently returned to a form of Kristarella this past week

when Jeff and I went to Iowa for 5 days.

He'd felt strongly that
the Saint
needed a visit
and since Ashford had
5 home games
it seemed like good timing.

But, we were not really there

to see baseball,

although it was fun.

We were really there to see

the Saint.

The Cafarelli's came over.

They've been Tyson's

"Home away from Home"

We will love them forever.

The Saint introduced us to

the King Buffet.

I loved it.

I think the Lifeguard thought

I loved it more than him.

It was a close call.

The Lifeguard got us
ice cream one night.

When they didn't have
my favorite
he bought ingredients to
concoct it ourselves.

Then I remembered I love him more than the King Buffet!

The Saint could use a

haircut,

if you didn't notice.

The Lifeguard and the Saint

went to the

Priesthood Session.

Ty's "Adopted Iowa Dad"

hugged him super tight.

It made the Lifeguard thankful.

The Saint studied at
our place too.
He like it there and
said when you're in

a cluttered space
your mind is cluttered too. 

More explanation on that later.

The Saint also slept

at our place.

The queen bed felt like

HEAVEN

compared to his twin bed

of the past 8 months.

Then we had to take

the Lifeguard

to the airport.

The goodbye was hard,

as usual.

Then the Saint and I went on

an adventure.

He took me to the see

"American Pickers".

It was awesome!

I think he was trying to

butter me up

because no sooner

did we get back

then I turned into...

-----------------------------------

-----------------------------------

Now to the "more on that later" mentioned above

and the statement that

"Cluttered spaces lead to cluttered minds."

I didn't fully understand until

the Saint invited me over to

"His Place"...

a place I'd left, 8 months ago,

well organized and lovely.

Well, all that has changed...

I think I told the Saint I wouldn't blog about this.

But seriously, maybe I didn't tell him that.

No, I'm pretty sure I did.

I'm sure he'll let me know.

Sometimes this blog gets me into trouble.

But anyway...
As I inspected, I think the word

"Hoarder" was mentioned,

followed by some hardy laughter
and after about
30 minutes, 30 hangers
and 3 trips to the dumpster
it was back to it's
"8 months earlier" state.

However, all the laundry

ended up back at

"my place".

BUT I really did smile

as I washed, dried, folded

and hung.

Then it was time for goodbye

... again.

But, the drive to the airport

along the Mississippi

and back by

American Pickers

made it a little easier.

The conversation was excellent

and I realized the kid I left in this place 8 months ago

was no longer a kid.

The Saint had

proven himself.

He'd grown up.

He can make it on his own.

I was so proud of him.

However, I'd missed

my Little One.

As I walked in the door

and searched for him

he was nowhere to be found.

He's way to busy for my good!

And even though I didn't find him,

I found this...

Motherella

picked it up.

She washed, dried,

folded, hung

and

smiled.

Because laundry is important and so are boys ... big and little