of good report

Slacker

2011-02-23T12:11:00.003-07:00

I'm feeling unorganized, unproductive, scatter-brained, what have you. I need a planner, or at least a calendar. Mommy brain is not capable of remembering things like dates, names, what needs to be done when, or how to properly construct a sentence. So today I made a list.

23 Feb 2011

cancel Comcast
pay AmEx bill
babysitter for Saturday
treats/note for Visiting Teaching ladies (it's one of those months)
Girls Camp calendar/ideas - meet with MF
Book Club date/invitations
order TC's missionary plaque
Church bulletin board
dinner for C family
Friday KM here for play date
Thursday - drive to gymnastics
JES birthday presents/cake
SK birthday present
Mom & K thank-you card & gift
grocery shopping
laundry
clean basement
organize files
vacuum car
schedule JES doctor appointment - 1 year
March 1st - Relief Society meeting
call SP
shoes

This is on top of my daily tasks of keeping the house clean, and the floor swept (the way JES eats that's a full-time job), the kids happy and entertained, and everyone fed (again, it feels like I'm constantly making a meal or cleaning up after one). So far I've paid my AmEx bill on-line. This list doesn't even include catching up on all my television viewing. That list would rival this one in length. I don't even know which girls are left on The Bachelor or who the next American Idol will be. At my productivity level, I may never know. I'm not feeling super-motivated, the way I thought I would having written everything down on paper. Wish me luck getting off my lazy rear-end (which, to my credit, has been running almost 3 miles in the morning for the last couple weeks - at least one thing I'm accomplishing) and getting some of this stuff done. I need all the help I can get.

Punk

2011-01-18T15:21:00.019-07:00

MOHAWK-SPORTING

PURPLE "ROXY" JEGGING-WEARING

CRAZY-EYED

FUN-LOVING

ATTITUDE-GIVING

PAPARAZZI-FRIENDLY

WILD WOMAN

PUNK!

It's just a little crush...

EM-isms

2010-09-01T17:23:00.001-06:00

While eating strawberries..."Mom, I just adore strawberries. Do you adore strawberries, too?"

EM heard the ice cream truck, and not knowing where the sound was coming from, or probably even what an ice cream truck is, she said, "Dad, did you hear that music? Isn't it beautiful? It was so beautiful I had to close my eyes." Apparently we need to expose her to better music.

After her first day of Kindergareten: "Mom, you should really go to school. It's so fun." When I asked if any of the other moms were at school, and wouldn't that be weird if I were the only mom at school she said, "Well, maybe you should have just stayed 5 then."

Fall Fetish

2010-08-31T16:28:00.006-06:00

Something about this time of year brings about some serious introspection for me. The harvest, the abundance of fruit right in my own backyard, the going back to school, the colors, the change of season....I don't know what it is, but I like it. Fall is the season I'd pick if I had to pick a season. So here are a couple lessons I learned today from picking blackberries:

Enjoy the right here and right now.

I find myself telling the girls to not eat anymore berries, because then we won't have enough for the cobbler I want to make. Am I for real? A blackberry is at its best when it's fresh-picked, ripe, and warm off the vine. So juicy and delicious, no cobbler can compete. Once I forget about the cobbler and allow myself to enjoy the berries as we pick, I have no more self control than my girls. When we're through my hands and mouth are just as covered in remnants of purple delight as my 2-year-old's. I have my girls to thank for teaching me to stop and enjoy the moment, instead of planning to enjoy it later.

Sometimes you have to deal with thorns to get to the GOOD stuff.

Blackberries have a pretty good defense mechanism set up to, you know, protect them from bears and little girls. The best, biggest, ripest berries are always hidden in the thorns. You better have a few scrapes after you're done picking, or you can be sure you missed out on the really GOOD stuff.

Taking a break to pick blackberries when my house is a disaster and my baby is crying is GOOD for me, maybe even necessary.

This really requires no explanation other than by the time I was finished, the baby had cried herself to sleep, thereby saving my sanity for maybe 1/2 hour.

Life is GOOD, and I am blessed, maybe even spoiled.

Those berries grow with absolutely no work on my part. I get to enjoy their GOODness without having to do anything but walk a few yards and pick away. I have lots of things in my life that I probably don't deserve, definitely haven't "earned," and probably don't appreciate as much as I should.

Hard work deserves a reward.

I told the girls they couldn't eat any berries until my bowl was filled. Well, they didn't exactly keep their side of that bargain 100%, but they did help me fill my bowl up as best as little girls can, two or three berries at a time. So they definitely deserved some reward of their own for all their "hard" work. And since blackberries are dangerous creatures they needed some help from someone with longer arms. I can be a nice mom. Sometimes. When I stop and actually allow myself to be nice in the moment instead of planning to be nice later.

Really Real 1st Day

2010-08-30T14:35:00.005-06:00

Today was EM's true first day of Kindergarten. The older grades started last Monday, and the Kindergartners go that first day, only to have to wait an entire week until they can go back. The rest of the week is spent assessing each, individual kindergartner's intelligence. So today was it, the big day, her first footsteps down the path of public education. I had planned to walk her up to school, but Mother Nature put a damper on that idea. So rather than fight the masses to find a parking spot, lug three children through the downpour to get EM in the building and in the right classroom, I let my friend take her instead. Tell me I'm not a bad mom. Tell me I won't regret missing that opportunity for the rest of my life. I went with her last Monday to her "pseudo" first day - tell me that was GOOD enough. Instead of seeing her tackle this new challenge with my own eyes (which may or may not have been filled with tears had I been there), I had to receive a second-hand account of how she put on her determined face and walked confidently into her classroom. She hung up her raincoat, and looked around, unsure what to do next. She watched the other kids, looking for some inspiration. She took her things out of her backpack, and then wondered what to do with it now. She figured it out, and hung it up with her jacket. She marched her skinny little self in her skinny little jeans (is it wrong that I covet my 5-year-old's body? Seriously, if I looked as good as she does in skinny jeans I'd be wearing them daily...I digress) into that Kindergarten class. She owned her first day. I'm as proud as any mommy could be. I actually think it was for the best that I wasn't there. I don't think her first-day-of-Kindergarten story would be the same if she'd had her smother-mother making sure every little thing she did was exactly what she was supposed to do.
At EM's assessment the parents were asked to fill out a questionnaire. The last question asked something along the lines of "What do you expect out of your child's Kindergarten experience?" The answer I wrote was something like, "I hope she has a positive and fun experience. I want her to make new friends. I hope her love for learning continues to grow. I hope she develops confidence in herself." After today, I think we're on the right track. What I didn't write, but want her to remember is this: "I hope that even though there will be more influences in your life now that you have entered this big, new world, that your father's and my influence will still have an impact. I hope that within your circle of friends your sisters are always included. I hope that you remember to be nice, to remember how our words make other people feel, to listen, to tell the truth, to obey, to not be a tattle-tell. I hope you don't change too much, because I love your silly faces and voices and made-up words, I love your laugh, I love your desire for perfection, I love YOU. I hope you recognize how smart you are and that you can do anything - just don't give up when you think it's too hard. Most importantly, I hope that you don't let others determine how you feel about yourself. Know that you are a beautiful, talented, and amazing daughter of God. Knowing that will make all the difference in your life. Please, please, please don't lose that confidence you had today as you faced your first day of school. Don't let some 4'10" 80-pound girl make you think there's something wrong with you because you don't look like she does (okay, maybe this discussion can wait for junior high or high school - or hopefully this will never be YOUR issue). I hope you have the best year of Kindergarten ever!"

Update

2010-04-04T11:55:00.005-06:00

So, it's been two weeks since I wrote my previous post. I don't know why I haven't posted it until now...Because I needed to make sure it was perfect, I'm sure. And I finally just have to let it go, because I don't have time to obsess over it. We are now at 5 weeks - still alive. Still nursing...sort of...barely. She's growing, growing, growing. Who knew a little 6 lb. 6 oz. runt could be so big at 5 weeks? I still have 20 lbs. to lose (at least I'm not growing, right?) We're still loving her. And we're getting more sleep...sort of...barely. The three times a night has decreased to two. Now if she'd only sleep during the day! The girl is restless and uncomfortable. Is it gas? Is it constipation? Is it reflux? I don't know. She sleeps fabulously in my arms, but lay her down anywhere - her crib, her swing, the car seat - and within 15 minutes she's screaming. That is why my house looks the way it does. That is why my older girls look like orphans.

This picture was taken on Sunday, March 14, 2010. Daylight Savings time started that day...We forgot. CW and the girls showed up for the last 15 minutes of Sacrament Meeting. They looked slightly better than this when they left for church. We're all going a little crazy around here.

Introducing....

2010-03-21T07:16:00.011-06:00

The newest member of our family. She's been here 3 weeks, and you'd think I'd have gotten around to showing her off by now. My excuse(s): lack of sleep, post-partum hormones which turn me into a blubbering mess when I even think about writing about the new little miracle that has joined our family, two other children who have made it very clear they do not like their mother right now, nursing and pumping and nursing and eating more than enough so I have an endless milk supply and nursing and nursing and nursing and fretting over whether my child is growing and/or getting enough to eat and also nursing, sleeping, trying to enjoy these first weeks because we are definitely not doing this again!

She's beautiful, and I love her.

Statistics:

1st: day she was born - March 1st, 2010...I find it very fitting that my first child was born on the last day of March and my last child was born on the first day of March. "The first shall be last, and the last shall be first." Yes, I am 100% sure that this is it. I am too old to do this again.

6: time of birth - 6:00 p.m. exactly.

6 6: weight - 6 lbs 6 oz.

20: inches long.

3: number of times the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck.

4: days in the hospital...long enough to wear out your welcome.

3: children...all girls!

3: weeks I've survived.

20: pounds I need to lose.

3: average number of times I'm up at night feeding this child, whom I love dearly, but would love even more if I were sleeping more.

Cannot be quantified: changed diapers, kisses, friends and neighbors and family bringing gifts and meals and taking care of children, feedings, gratitude that she is here and healthy, the medical bills from our emergency C-section (just kidding - sort of).

Her arrival (you have my permission to stop reading now...it may be long, and most likely boring to anyone other than myself):

Remember how I was panicking over having to make a silly decision whether to be induced or not? Well, that should have been the least of my worries. Monday, shortly after I posted my last post three weeks ago I started having contractions....on my own, Pitocin-free, lucky me! Shortly after 3:00 p.m. the girls were with a friend, and CW and I were on our way to the hospital. Everything was fine and normal...I was dilated to a 5 or 6 when I got to the hospital, and we were going to have a baby!

Then I met the nurse anesthetist. This is where things started going badly. The dude inspired no confidence whatsoever. As he searched my back for an endless amount of time, looking for who knows what, I was on the verge of telling him to forget the epidural, I would rather go natural. That's saying a lot. He acted like this was his first experience sticking a needle in someone's spine, and I was not about to let some amateur paralyze me for life. I was not impressed, and it must have showed, because at one point CW said, "SaM, he's doing a GOOD job...he knows what he's doing." My nerves were on edge, and it didn't get any better.

Shortly after my epidural, a random doctor from the hospital came to check on things with a concerned look, which led to more freaking out on my part. Of course no one bothered explaining to me what was going on, and I'm going over every possible horror-story scenario, wondering if this would still be happening had I taken my pre-natal vitamins more faithfully. Yes, I really am as pathetic as I sound, and by now the tears were flowing freely. Finally some comfort came by way of my OB/GYN, along with some much-needed explanations. Apparently every time I had a contraction baby's heart rate dropped. At first her heart rate would return to normal after the contraction was over, but after several episodes her heart rate wasn't returning to normal before I would have another contraction. Seeing as I was still only dilated to a 6, and could be in labor for hours to come, my doctor decided a C-section was necessary. More panicking...something about being cut open is much more terrifying to me than pushing out a baby. Lots of morphine and 15 minutes later I'd given birth. Interesting fact about myself, morphine makes me forget to breathe. Who knew? Hopefully that piece of information won't be needed again and can be stored away, a useless trivia fact that maybe I'll mention when conversation is dull at our next social gathering.

The umbilical cord had been wrapped three times around her neck. There was no way she could have made it down the birth canal on her own. I was told the cord was very thin - should I worry about this, too. Why not? Once again, maybe it can be attributed to my irregular consumption of vitamins. She was so small and seemed even more traumatized than I was. I was in a morphine daze, and remember very little of the moments following her delivery. They let me hold her (was that really wise, considering how incoherent I was?) before taking her away to do whatever it is they do. Then the stitching up began, which seemed to take forever compared to the quick procedure of cutting me open and taking my insides out. It was a very unpleasant sensation to feel the tugging and pulling of being put back together. Finally, it was over....I could go see my baby.

Or not. I would not see my baby for the next 12 hours. And I only saw her because I painfully wheeled myself down to see her (okay, I think a nurse actually wheeled me down while my husband, who remained much more calm throughout all of this, slept peacefully). What I hadn't been told, or at least not to my recollection, was that my baby had TTN, or rapid breathing, most likely because of excess fluid in her lungs. They would need to monitor her until her breathing slowed down. She was on an IV, and I was not allowed to feed her for fear that she might aspirate. More waiting. Finally at 6:00 p.m. the next day, 24 hours after her birth (it felt much longer), I was able to hold and feed my baby. Well, the feeding would take some work, but at least she was free of the machines!

And then we hung out for 3 more days, monitoring and checking and trying to get the girl to eat. I cried and panicked some more, because clearly if I couldn't even feed my own child I wasn't fit to be a mother. And then she'd make some progress, gradual, but at least in the right direction. And I got some sleep and cried a little less. Finally by Friday, I didn't even care if I wasn't able to feed my child, I just wanted out of that stupid hospital full of people who clearly couldn't get a job at a decent medical institution. Yes, in my old age I have become extremely impatient and intolerant of others. Really, there were some great people who took care of me and my baby, but there were also more than a few "interesting" characters. At times it really did feel like this place took in the most socially awkward doctors, nurses, nurse anesthetists, etc. they could find.

Week one over, and we were home at last. EM and LuV were at Grandma and Grandpa's in Idaho, CW back at work, and I am a mother of one. Only one. Just me and my baby girl. All day long. It was so quiet and peaceful. There were days the silence was maddening, and I just wanted to go get my girls. Fortunately I resisted. Week two was a blissful time of sleeping and reading and relaxing and healing and holding my baby whenever I wanted, as long as I wanted. She got better at eating. We bonded. Week three and I was back to being a mother of three. We had one GOOD day - Wednesday. Baby slept in her crib. LuV took a nap, which meant she wasn't crying for her dad all afternoon. There was slightly less whining. I finally swept and mopped the hardwood floors - it had been nearly a month. The rest of the week was less successful.

Baby still isn't a great eater or night sleeper. I'm ready to give up on nursing, and if it weren't for RSV season I probably would. I'm trying to hold out until the end of April. Wish me luck. EM and LuV have their moments. It's hard for them, I know. I am trying to be sensitive. I am trying to be patient. I am trying to balance the needs of three little girls. I am trying to be a mother of three. I am trying. Some day we'll get there. I am surviving, and that is all that can be expected after three weeks. We'll take the GOOD days when they come, and the other days we hold on until 5:30 p.m. brings relief.

One thing is certain - she is loved. EM and LuV love their sister. I love my baby girl. I am grateful she is here, even if she causes me grief with her eating and sleeping. I am thankful she is healthy even if it costs us thousands in medical expenses. I am amazed at the miracle of life - that she is so perfect and beautiful and whole. I still can't believe how blessed we are...in spite of pre-natal vitamins and everything else. And I still couldn't write this without crying, but at least it didn't end in violent sobbing like some of the other posts I started....

Bliss

2010-03-01T09:23:00.004-07:00

Near 60-degree weather. Being outside. An end in sight. Thinking about a new beginning. A soon-to-be special delivery, just for us, coming from a heavenly home. Nesting. Recognizing a need to improve. Loving my children. Determining that I will be better because they deserve better. Homemade curry...enjoyed by all. 9:00 a.m. church. A two-year-old making it to the potty in time. Kids' bedtime. Remembering what I looked like with ankles. Crying during the movie Bedtime Stories and still being able to blame it on pregnancy hormones. Tiny baby clothes. Wondering, waiting, wishing.

photo courtesy of EM

Just some things I've enjoyed the past couple days.

What Could Possibly Have Induced Me???

2010-02-26T09:22:00.002-07:00

I scheduled a date to be induced. Six days from today. Thursday. My other two girls were born on Thursdays. That's not why I chose Thursday. It was the last day I could "schedule" this baby before my doctor leaves for who knows where. Apparently she doesn't feel the need to stay in town the weekend my baby is due to make her grand entrance into this world. How dare she? I, on the other hand, will have to miss being with my brother while he goes through the temple for the first time. I hate being the only one in my family to miss out on things. Because my OB/GYN has the nerve to come and go when and where she pleases, a luxury those of us who are 39 weeks pregnant do not get to enjoy, I have now been placed in the uncomfortable position of having to make a decision. I hate having to make decisions. Do I get induced Thursday before my doctor abandons me, not to return until Monday evening? Or do I let things take their natural course, even if that means a stranger coaches me through the final pushes? Really, the doctor does so very little in the delivery process it shouldn't matter. And yet there is something reassuring about having MY doctor be the one to present me with baby girl #3. So I chose a date. It feels so unnatural and wrong. I feel like I am being pushy - demanding that my daughter's birthday WILL be March 4, 2010. I hate knowing when it will happen. There is still a chance that she will surprise me. She has six days. But my womb does not tend to release its prey early. There have been no indications that my womb will act any differently this time. So...Thursday it is.

The real reason I chose Thursday: I want my baby to share a birthday with Jim and Pam's baby. How awesome is that?

Have I mentioned how much I hate all of this?

One thing I will not hate...being pregnant one more day.

More Christmas Fun Mingled with Sickness

2009-12-22T07:44:00.001-07:00

It's almost Christmas! I can't believe a whole month of EM asking how many more days until it's here has gone by so quickly. We have been trying to enjoy this Christmas season, and pack in all the fun we can. My pregnant body can only take so much, but we've done pretty well...at least on the days that my stomach hasn't been queasy. I have some ailment that seems to strike every other day or so. Or perhaps I've been consuming too much junk and my body is simply revolting. Either way it has been less than pleasant, what with the churning innards in addition to an especially active and kicking baby girl in my womb. Though it hasn't really prevented me from sampling (in excess) the caramels and toffee and chocolate sent our way.
We've made and delivered gifts of apple butter, or apple pie filling, or popcorn to neighbors and friends. We've decorated a gingerbread house. CW and I have attended the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's Christmas concert with my parents and one of my sisters and one of my brothers - CW and I do not do well in situations of traffic/parking chaos - just a note to self for future marital harmony. It was a wonderful evening aside from the near end to our marriage trying to navigate through traffic in downtown Salt Lake City with thousands of people trying to get to a Tabernacle Choir concert, a Utah Jazz game, and/or a Nutcracker performance. We've sledded down the hill in our backyard. Even I joined in the fun and took LuV down a couple times - I am hoping none of the neighbors witnessed the spectacle of a very pregnant woman in capri yoga pants and knock-off Ugg boots (with at least 3-4 inches of bare leg) trying not to slam herself and her two-year-old daughter into the back of her brick home. EM did end up in a window well at one point, and she quickly learned to have her feet in position to slow herself down near the bottom of the hill. We've made Christmas cards for grandmas and grandpas and Primary teachers and preschool teachers. We've braved the store to buy gifts for each other - EM for LuV, and LuV for EM, and the girls for mommy and daddy. We've attended the ward party, which was a ride on the Polar Express, and I've never seen EM so giddy in all my life, plus LuV is happy anytime she gets to wear pajamas! We've seen the movie The Princess and the Frog, and I now know that movies are best when watched at the theater with your four-year-old daughter and a bucket of popcorn and a Sprite for her and her sister and a Diet Coke for me and my hubby. Except I could have done without LuV rolling around on the floor of the movie theater. We've done a sub for Santa for a family in our ward. I hope the girls understood at least in part what we were doing and why...EM was extremely upset that the little girl would get to open her gifts before Christmas, while she had to wait until Christmas morning. I informed her that this little girl had a mommy, too, and that moms make you wait until Christmas morning to open presents, and instantly everything was right with the world again. Another note to self: if you're trying to be anonymous, don't put all the food and gifts into boxes that have been shipped to you and clearly have your name and address printed on them. We tried to play stupid...because really, how much more stupid could I be, but I don't think they bought our "I don't know what you're talking about - we had nothing to do with it" act. We've had Grandma and Grandpa over for dinner. We've colored Christmas pictures and read Christmas stories. We've been to Grandma and Grandpa's house for a party complete with Santa Claus. We didn't get around to building a snowman, because the thought of rolling large snowballs in temperatures in the teens was not something I was willing to do, even for my daughters. We still need to set a Christ-centered goal for our family for the New Year. We are planning to go see the lights at Temple Square tomorrow. We started to read The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, and we may or may not finish it...probably on the drive to Grandma and Grandpa's house on Christmas Day. We still need to have a nice Christmas Eve dinner and have a toast with our fancy martini glasses. We still need to read the story of Christ's birth from the New Testament, and reflect on why we love and celebrate this magical time of year.
It's been a great month - stomach issues and all. I love this time of year. I love that I finally have a child who is old enough to eagerly anticipate Christmas. Her eyes visibly light up when she talks about it - not just the presents and Santa Claus, but when she tells me about baby Jesus and who He is and what He means to her. Christmas has never been so GOOD as it has been this year. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas and that the New Year is a happy one.

Christmas Fun

2009-12-07T12:10:00.009-07:00

On the first day of Christmas we drank hot cocoa and watched Dr. Seuss' "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." Actually CW and the girls did this, since I had a Relief Society meeting to attend...

On the second day of Christmas we made sugar cookies - great big star sugar cookies decorated with sprinkles. This was mainly EM's and my project...LuV got bored quickly. I tried not to let the perfectionist in me ruin the moment, since I was taking these cookies for refreshments at our Young Women activity that evening and was hoping they wouldn't look like a 4-year-old had made them, even though she had...

On the third day of Christmas we made applesauce/cinnamon ornaments to take to neighbors - a very similar activity to the day before...great big stars cut out of dough made of cinnamon and applesauce. What a mess! They smell good and are still drying out in the basement, so we're keeping our fingers crossed that they turn out...

On the fourth day of Christmas we were supposed to attend the Festival of Trees to see our friend's beautiful tree, but EM woke up running to the bathroom to puke. Fortunately she made it to the toilet and that was the only incident, but we figured it would be best to stay indoors, so instead we painted EM's toenails and fingernails. Poor LuV was too tired and wanted to go to bed (there seems to be a common theme of LuV missing out on all the fun)...

On the fifth day of Christmas we went to the Festival of Trees, and once we found a parking space and CW calmed down a bit from the parking lot mayhem we enjoyed looking at all the pretty trees. EM especially loved the pink, girly ones. LuV's only interest was a carousel carved out of wood with all the Disney princesses riding the horses. We had to go back for a second look just for her...

On the sixth day of Christmas we built a fire in the fireplace and watched the First Presidency's Christmas Devotional on KBYU. We were supposed to sing our own Christmas carols around the fire, but since CW has to plug his ears to block me out when we sing for Family Home Evening, I figured it best not to torture him too much. We sang along to the third verse of "Silent Night" with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, so technically, mission accomplished...

More Christmas fun hopefully to come.

100 Things for Which I Am Thankful

2009-11-25T10:10:00.006-07:00

1 Beautiful Daughters, 2 a GOOD Book, 3 Spaghetti, 4 Friends, 5 a Home, 6 Health, 7 Jesus Christ, 8 a Husband Who Provides for His Family, 9 Smiles, 10 GOOD Food, 11 Girls' Night Out, 12 Sisters, 13 the Gospel, 14 Fruit Trees, 15 Psych - the TV Show, 16 Serving in Young Women with Great Girls, 17 Seasons, 18 Freedom, 19 Intelligence, 20 Neighbors, 21 Romantic Comedies, 22 Being Able to Feel My Baby Move, 23 Holidays and Reasons to Celebrate, 24 an Education, 25 Parents, 26 New Clothes, 27 Dancing Shows, 28 Stubbornness, 29 Laughter, 30 Diet Coke, 31 Blogs, 32 a Car, 33 Brothers, 34 Chocolate, 35 Grandparents, 36 Soup, 37 an Opinion, 38 Hugs & Kisses, 39 Hearing LuV say "Hey You" to Me, 40 My Bed, 41 Vacations, 42 8 Hours of Continuous Sleep, 43 Compliments, 44 a Clean House, 45 In-Laws, 46 No Laundry, 47 EM and LuV Being Friends, 48 Dreams, 49 Feeling the Spirit, 50 Love, 51 Flowers, 52 Surprises, 53 Forgiveness, 54 GOOD Days, 55 Clean Teeth, 56 Exercise, 57 Fires in Fireplaces, 58 Music, 59 Patience when I Need it, 60 Haircuts, 61 Indoor Plumbing, 62 when EM Listens, 63 a Trip to the Store without Kids, 64 My Kitchen, 65 Photographs, 66 Quiet Moments, 67 Internet Shopping, 68 PBS Kids, 69 the Temple, 70 Comments on My Blog, 71 Service, 72 Contact Lenses, 73 When CW Comes Home, 74 $5 Pizzas, 75 Weekends Free of Any Obligations, 76 Games, 77 a Prophet, 78 Phone Calls from Loved Ones, 79 Talented and Inspiring People in the World, 80 Coming Home after Being Gone, 81 Disney Movies, 82 Bedtime, 83 Babysitters, 84 Canning and Food Storage, 85 Fresh Baked Bread, 86 Missionaries, 87 a Child's Prayer, 88 a Dry Night - without Bed-Wetting, 89 the Smell of Clean Kids after Their Bath, 90 Lessons Learned, 91 "Please" & "Thank You," 92 Water, 93 the End of 9 Months of Pregnancy, 94 Bonus Checks, 95 an Uninterrupted Shower, 96 Lotion, 97 Time, 98 Hope, 99 Ideas, 100 the Opportunity to Stay at Home and Be a Mother

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Blogging Blahs

2009-11-19T14:22:00.009-07:00

If you hadn't noticed I've struggled with the whole blogging thing in recent months. And considering that my blog is just over a year old, that indicates I've pretty much struggled with the whole blogging thing from day one. I want to blog. I want to want to blog. But lately I don't really want to do much of anything. My attitude reeks worse than the sour milk LuV spilled into some unreachable crevasse of the car. I don't really like who I am right now. My hormones are out of control. Seriously. One night I sobbed until my pillow was drenched and I'd run out of reasons to pity my poor, sorry self. I went to sleep feeling like a pathetic loser, not unaware that I was acting very much like a high school version of myself. A time when my self esteem couldn't even be detected under a microscope. A time when I loathed just about everything, and myself most of all. These days are not at all unlike those days. And I really don't want to blog about how self-absorbed and insecure I am right now. I don't want people to know what kind of a person I REALLY am, and I especially don't need to be reminded of this pitiful chapter in my life, especially when it's a repeat, and perhaps a common theme throughout my life.

And that, my friends, is why I am a bad blogger. I am essentially a fortress when it comes to most people. You've heard of walls? I've surrounded myself with them. So what possessed me to start publishing what I think and feel on the world-wide web? It's insane how much stress it causes me. Every post I agonize over, wondering what people will think, not only of my words, but of ME! I don't want to sugar-coat my life. I don't want to write about how my children are perfect (or at least better than yours) and I don't want to write about how every day is filled with fabulous, creative, educational, super-entertaining activities, because I'm super mom (that would be blatant lies). But I also don't want to write about my actual day-to-day frustrations and feelings of inadequacy. Life as a stay-at-home wife and mother does not come easily for me....it is not my dream job, and I'm not a natural at it. When I started my blog I wanted to write about the GOOD things in my life, so I would enjoy them more, and so I could look back and remember that life was and continues to be GOOD. Lately I haven't felt a lot of GOODness....It's there, I just need to be better about recognizing it.

And next time I feel an anxiety attack coming on when I sit down to write a post, I need to find the GOOD and forget the rest. So....one GOOD thing I finished today was a project I started with my mom and sisters and sisters-in-law a couple weeks ago. It's an advent calendar made out of a muffin tin. The 24 days until Christmas are made with scrapbook paper and embellishments glued to a magnet to cover the muffin cups. Each day the girls can take off a magnet to find a little treat along with some sort of Christmas-y activity or project or service for that day. Here's hoping that I can get my stinky attitude in check and enjoy the holidays, at least for the girls' sake. Otherwise I might need to check myself into a mental institution until this baby is born - a little medication and even a straight jacket and a padded room doesn't sound too bad right about now.

My Week

2009-10-15T21:58:00.003-06:00

Sunday: CW left for meetings at 9:00 am. I tried to keep the girls "properly" entertained, got them fed and dressed and ready for church at 1:00 pm. Survived three hours of church. Made dinner - Honey Salsa Chicken with Rice and Apple Salad. Headed south to visit CW's parents, bringing apples from our trees and homemade Fruit Dip.

Monday: Cleaned house...all day long, because for some reason the house falls apart on the weekends and it was a disaster. Made dinner - Roasted Tomato Soup and Grilled Cheese Sandwiches. Had Family Home Evening or attempted to do so. Made Apple Crisp for dessert. CW tried to fix sprinklers (it's October, shouldn't we be done working on our stupid sprinklers by now?!). Did laundry.

Tuesday: Took EM to preschool. Picked up EM from preschool. Went to the store to purchase materials for Young Women's. Had EM's and LuV's friends over to play. Made a poster for Young Women's. Went to EM's soccer game. Made dinner - Tacos and leftover Apple Salad. Normally CW would be at meetings all night, but luckily he didn't have to go...or he ditched. EM wet the bed and slept in bed with me the rest of the night, which resulted in very little sleep for me and a delightful head butt first thing the next morning.

Wednesday: Woke up grumpy. Made the mistake of bringing the girls to the ultrasound. Had ultrasound...baby looks healthy. Big surprise (for us at least) baby is a girl! Took the girls to see where daddy works. Saw daddy's cubicle. Got Happy Meals for the girls for lunch on the way home. LuV fell asleep in the car and had a 15 minute nap for the day. Made dinner - Manicotti and Green Beans. Went to Young Women's.

Thursday: Took EM to preschool. Drove too far to get grapes for canning juice. Went to Park Day and enjoyed beautiful weather and visiting with other moms. Went to EM's last (hallelujah!) soccer practice. Ran to the grocery store to pick up four items. Made dinner - Tortilla Soup and Green Salad. Went to watch Young Women play volleyball. Did laundry.

Friday (in anticipation): Visiting Teachers coming. Laundry. Maybe work on lesson for Young Women's on Sunday. Probably not. Attend 40th birthday party for a friend (hopefully he doesn't read this blog, because it's a surprise). Can grape juice. Lots and lots of grape juice. Not make dinner. Leave girls with a babysitter for a couple hours. Make dessert to take to party.

Saturday (also in anticipation): Attend Super Saturday for Relief Society. Definitely prepare lesson for Sunday. Make dinner. Hopefully do a fun autumny activity with CW and the girls - perhaps a pumpkin patch or corn maze. Prepare to do it all over again the next week.

It's been one of those weeks. I'm burned out. Grumpy. Tired. In a rut. Looking for a change in the monotony. Wishing for some "me" time and knowing that it never truly comes anymore. If I were a better person I would be grateful for the GOOD things - that CW was home Tuesday night, that we've had beautiful weather to enjoy, that I have oodles of apples at my disposal, that I have a healthy baby girl inside of me, that I made dinner every night this week (which is a huge accomplishment for me these days). But instead I'm wishing for a simpler life with less meetings and less scheduling and less cleaning and less laundry and less errand-running. That is what I'll be dreaming of tonight - that and grape juice. Good night.

What to Say

2009-08-16T08:43:00.004-06:00

It's been so long, and yet I'm still feeling uninspired and unmotivated to blog. But I'm so embarrassed that the last thing I posted about was the American Idol winner. As if my life holds no more value now that the show is over. How pathetic that would be if that were true. I have So You Think You Can Dance to get me through until American Idol starts again. Just kidding....really, I'm not seriously that obsessed or pathetic.

It's been a typical summer. EM has been busy with gymnastics and swim lessons and now soccer practice. She is really thriving, and it makes me proud (and just a little bit sad) to see her growing up. As always she is my stubborn little mule, and while I love her dearly, there are days I want to lock her in her room forever....or at least until she learns some decent manners.

My sweet LuV is also growing up. She is a chatterbox, and now that we successfully cut her off from her binkies she has all sorts of things to say. She imitates everything her big sister says/does, which is pretty cute most of the time. Except when she says things like, "Just go away, Mom." Which in her adorable little 22-month-old voice is pretty hard to take seriously, but still....I'm not a fan of the sass she's picked up from her "role model".

We've played in the water and dirt and with chalk and with friends. We've ridden bikes and basically just enjoyed good weather, when Mother Nature was kind enough to bless us with it. It's been a crazy summer weather-wise. My girls spent a week at my Mom and Dad's while I survived Girls Camp. I think that was the highlight of their summer.

I started out the summer waking up early to go running. I was doing it pretty faithfully, and was feeling GOOD about myself, but that only lasted a few weeks. Now I roll out of bed when my girls do...Maybe next summer I'll do better. My windows need a washing in a bad way. My house has been sorely neglected. I've let my laundry pile up, which I NEVER let myself do. Some nights my girls eat Ramen noodles for dinner. My summer has consisted of laying on the couch doing as little as possible.

Yes, I am lazy beyond belief. But in my defense I am also 11-weeks pregnant. I am hoping to regain some usefulness in the next week or two, but not making any promises. We (meaning hubby and I) are a little freaked out by the prospect of being outnumbered. I suppose we'll figure it out as we go. CW needs a son, so send the boy vibes this way. Although I'm pretty comfortable in the girl department and wouldn't mind just keeping the status quo. And yet, a little less emotion and drama would also be nice. See how useless I am? I can't even make up my mind. A useless flake is what I've become.

And poor CW has to live with me through it all. He's a keeper, that CW. Patient and hard-working and a lifesaver for the girls. One example of what he has to put up with: he bought a puppy for himself for Father's Day. And then six weeks later when I clearly couldn't handle one more responsibility on my plate, he sold the puppy. He did it for me, his useless, flaky wife. And that about sums up our summer.

Who Do You Love?

2009-05-20T17:44:00.009-06:00

There's this little reality TV show some of you may have heard of called American Idol. I have been addicted this season. I'm not sure why, some seasons spark my interest more than others. And this go-around...I'm borderline obsessed. And I have thunk until my thunker hurts about all this "controversy" surrounding Adam Lambert. I read an article the other day on msnbc.com about whether the show is ready for a gay winner. Now, Adam has not disclosed his sexuality, so why was there an entire article on a major news website discussing whether or not America is ready for a gay winner of American Idol? I don't know, that's why I'm asking you. It bothers me....last year when the competition was down to the two Davids I didn't see any articles about whether the country was prepared to vote for its first Mormon American Idol. Why does his sexuality even have to be an issue? And because I don't like Adam Lambert I am a bigot or homophobe or close-minded or you come up with a word you'd like to call me. Bring it.

I am baffled by how much people love this guy. What's there to love? I'll admit he's got a GOOD voice, even a great voice, when he actually sings. But....every....single....song....he has to do that scream. I guess in the music world they call it falsetto, but it is about as pleasant to me as listening to fingernails on a chalkboard. I do not like it. And then there's him....Adam. My 14- and 15-year-old Mia Maids adore him. My sister-in-law is a huge fan. And there are oodles and oodles and oodles of others out there who think he's the greatest thing to happen to American Idol. Kara DioGuardi had it right on when she called Adam "sleazy." I look at him and he is everything I do not want my children to be. This has nothing to do with his alleged sexual preference. It has everything to do with his self-absorption, his smugness, his fakeness, his absolute sleaziness.

I know American Idol is about singing, and if you think Adam Lambert has the better voice, vote for him. I personally think he's an actor, a chameleon, and a fake. He'd be fun to see on Broadway, but if I had to listen to him in my car I think I would find myself swerving into oncoming traffic to put myself out of my misery.

I like Kris. Surprise, surprise. I like his humility. I like that he seems like an all-around GOOD guy. I like his voice and his music and his style. I think he's more talented, but less experienced than Adam. If Kris were gay, but still the same Kris that I see on TV, I'd still like him. As much as I currently like him. If Kris had pictures of himself doing distasteful things with anyone, male or female, on the Internet; if he was obsessed with himself and his looks; if he acted like he was the greatest thing since peanut butter, then my opinion of him would lessen. I don't know Kris - all I know is what I see. But if I had to choose an "idol" for my kids (and myself) to look up to, hands down I choose Kris over Adam. Apparently America sees it quite differently, and maybe I'm more old-fashioned than I realized.

I don't know who will win.....the odds are pointing to Adam, and since one definition of idol is "a form or appearance visible but without substance," then I'll concede. Adam definitely is worthy of the title, because I can't think of anyone more visible, yet with so little substance.

Take That, Swine Flu

2009-05-20T16:37:00.006-06:00

CW and I had planned a backpacking trip to Havasupai Falls. My husband went with some buddies back in his former life, before there was me, and he hasn't stopped talking about it since. I was excited to go, if for no other reason than to remind myself that I can still do fun and adventurous things like I used to before I became a mommy of two. Well, as pandemics like the swine flu can be very scary things, the tribal council decided to close the falls in order to protect the community. Too bad the whole swine flu thing was ridiculously overblown. But I don't think my little phone call asking if they were serious and if maybe they'd like to reconsider opening it back up did a whole lot of GOOD. Oh well, their loss.

And Moab's gain. CW's sister and her husband were planning on accompanying us on our trip, and they decided not to let the swine flu stop them from having some fun and seeing some beautiful scenery. Too bad when CW's sister told me to keep my babysitter for that weekend it didn't actually register. I really was smart before I had children. So, last Friday we ventured to Moab, with our two girls, to enjoy a weekend with the ADULTS from my husband's side of the family. My girls thought they were pretty special, being the only kids. They actually behaved themselves splendidly, and I loved having them with us.

Grandma and Grandpa brought the four-wheelers, and we spent several hours on a couple different trails soaking in the beauty and the sun. I couldn't believe LuV didn't scream the entire time, but when she wasn't zonked out sandwiched between Grandma and Grandpa, she was shouting, "Whee!" sandwiched between CW and me. And EM had the time of her life "driving" the four-wheeler (which meant she got to sit in front) with Grandpa.

We hiked to Delicate Arch, and EM was a trooper! She walked more than I thought she would, and thank GOODness we had Super Aunt C to save the day when she needed a piggy-back ride. It was a fun, fun, fun vacation with GOOD company, GOOD food, GOOD scenery, and as far as I can tell, absolutely no swine flu outbreaks.

Broccoli Salad

2009-05-14T16:27:00.003-06:00

EM helped me make broccoli salad for dinner. It’s one of CW’s favorites.

2 bunches broccoli tops
½ red onion, chopped

½ lb crisp bacon, crumbled

grated cheddar cheese

grapes, halved

1/2 cup mayonnaise

1 Tbsp vinegar
¼ cup sugar

I chopped broccoli while EM gnawed on it like a beaver chomping on a log. EM wanted to know if she liked “purple onions” so she tried a piece. It made her eyes and tongue burn, but she was still determined to eat it. I was proud of her for trying something new, even if she wasn’t able to eat it all. I cooked the bacon in the microwave, because it is so much easier that way, and then let LuV and EM share a slice. EM blew on the bacon for her little sister even though it wasn’t hot. LuV has two mommies. I grated cheese and EM asked why I was putting cheese in the salad. I halved the grapes and EM stole grapes as she stole glances at me, making sure she wasn’t in trouble. I put the mayonnaise, vinegar, and sugar into a bowl and EM stirred it all together until it was smooth and creamy. We tossed everything together and put it in the fridge until it was time for dinner. CW had several helpings, and literally licked his plate.

A Homemade Life

2009-05-14T16:12:00.001-06:00

This was a birthday gift from my husband. He told me, “The book made me think of you.” I love it, and I took it as a compliment that a book about cooking and a life with the kitchen at its center reminded him of me. Let me peak your interest, or perhaps bore you to tears, depending on your relationship with the kitchen, with the first couple paragraphs.

“It started when I was a freshman in high school. We’d be sitting at the kitchen table, the three of us, eating dinner, when my father would lift his head from his plate and say it: ‘You know, we eat better at home than most people do in restaurants.’ Sometimes, for good measure, he’d slap the table and let loose a long ooooh of contentment. It didn’t seem to matter what we were eating. It could have been some sliced tomatoes, or a bowl of mashed potatoes, or some fish that he’d fried in a pat of butter. At least every couple of weeks, he said it. To me, it sounded like tacky bragging, the kind of proud exaggeration that fathers specialize in. It’s the suburban man’s equivalent of ripping open his shirt and beating his chest with his fists. I would shrink into my chair, blushing hotly, the moment it crossed the threshold of his lips. I was mortified by the weird pleasure he took in our family meal. After a while, I could even sense it coming. I’d mouth the words before he could say them: You know, we eat better at home than most people do in restaurants!

“But now I’m old enough to admit that he was right. It’s not that we knew how to cook especially well, or that we always ate food that was particularly GOOD. There were hot dogs sometimes, and cans of baked beans. Our garlic came in a jar, minced and ready, and our butter was known to go rancid. What was so satisfying, I think, was something else. It was the steady rhythm of meeting in the kitchen every night, sitting down at the table, and sharing a meal. Dinner didn’t come through a swinging door, balanced on the arm of an anonymous waiter: it was something that we made together. We built a life for ourselves, together around that table. And although I couldn’t admit it then, my father was showing me, in his pleasure and in his pride, how to live it: wholly, hungrily, loudly.”

Blueberry-Raspberry Pound Cake; Roasted Eggplant Ratatouille; Italian Grotto Eggs; Doron’s Meatballs with Pine Nuts, Cilantro, and Golden Raisins; Cider-Glazed Salmon; Slow-Roasted Tomato Pesto; Arugula Salad with Pistachios and Chocolate…and so many more! I can't wait to try these recipes.

Granted I have no idea what kirsch is, and I don’t know if my local grocery store carries crystallized ginger, and more than one recipe calls for bourbon or other such alcoholic beverages, and I’m not certain how my little girls feel about eggplant or salmon or feta, but I’m undaunted by the task. My cooking exploits are about to get a bit more adventurous – and I’m eager to broaden my kitchen repertoire!

My husband has expressed similar sentiments when we contemplate eating out… “We could go out, but your cooking is so GOOD, it’s better than any restaurant.” Many of you may share my love-hate relationship with cooking. I love to cook, when I want to cook. I don’t always enjoy the day-to-day necessity of fixing dinner, especially after a long day with the kids. I hate coming up with a weekly menu, but I love making something delicious for someone to enjoy. I love when EM says to me, “Mommy, this is GOOD.” I love to see EM’s eyes widen when she sees a plate of strawberry shortcake piled high with whipped cream. I love LuV’s barely contained excitement when she knows it’s feeding time. I love when CW nearly licks his plate clean after eating broccoli salad. I love to see empty plates and full tummies. I love little hands pouring and stirring and helping and tasting. I love the kitchen, and I guess that’s why I love this book.

Birthday Love

2009-05-13T16:01:00.001-06:00

EM and LuV,

For my birthday you both woke up extra early because you didn't want to waste a second of my special day.

You were needy and fussy all day long because you wanted me to know how much I am needed and appreciated.

EM, you burst into tears for no apparent reason and told me, quite passionately I might add, that I had hurt your feelings because you were trying to tell me that you care very dearly what I think of you and say to you and do for you.

LuV, your two-year molars have been causing you, and therefore all of us, a great deal of pain. You asked me for medicine, in your adorable little 19-month-old voice, because you wanted me to recognize that I have a remarkable ability to comfort.

EM, you asked me why none of my friends were coming to my party because you wanted me to understand that I don’t need any more friends than my wonderful husband and two precious daughters.

EM, you threw several toys at me when I asked you to turn off Ice Age so I could watch American Idol because you were teaching me a lesson – just because it’s someone’s birthday and just because someone is older than you does not mean that they get to do whatever they want. (Actually, sometimes it does, even though it doesn't seem fair.)

Thank you for all the wonderful birthday gifts!

Mother's Day

2009-05-10T17:53:00.002-06:00

Sometimes I feel like I've failed as a mother. Sometimes I lose my patience, I don’t spend enough quality time with my children, I handle a situation poorly, I say “no” too many times in a day, I don’t teach them enough, I don’t love them enough. I’m not, I don’t. Sometimes I compare myself to others. Sometimes I try too hard. Sometimes I don’t try at all. Sometimes I’m overly sensitive to what others think of me. Sometimes I base my worth on someone else’s value of me. Sometimes I say mean things. Sometimes I don’t like what I see in the mirror. Sometimes I feel sorry for myself. Sometimes I don’t have my priorities straight. Sometimes my house is beyond untidy. Sometimes I’m not a very good friend. Sometimes I’m selfish. Sometimes I beat myself up because I will never be GOOD enough.

Sometimes women are too hard on themselves. I hope you gave yourself a break on Mother’s Day and acknowledge all the GOOD you do. You deserve it.

Not So Subtle

2009-05-04T20:07:00.005-06:00

To CW,

I made a mistake - early on in our marriage when I was naive and assumed you should know me well enough to be able to read my mind. I told you that some special occasion (such as Valentine's Day or my birthday or our anniversary) was not a "big deal" and you didn't need to do anything special. And you believed me. You must have been relieved to find that I, like you, found it silly and unnecessary to make a big deal on these days. I have since learned that you are a low-key, low maintenance kind of guy who does not care for such hoopla when said events involve you. Well, I was severely disappointed when nothing was done in celebration for whatever occasion I had told you not to worry about celebrating. Just in case you haven't realized after 7 years of marriage...I like to celebrate, I like to make a big deal, and I like to perhaps go a bit overboard. I will never throw you a surprise party. I will never invite the neighborhood over for cake and ice cream when you turn a year older. I will never buy you a gift without being 100% certain you will approve. But for your benefit, here are a few items on my "wish list." In the next month we will celebrate Mother's Day, my birthday, and our anniversary, hint, hint, hint.

1. A dress from here.

2. This phone.

3. A vacuum (or maybe one a little less pricey...)

4. Pots and pans.

5. A haircut and/or pedicure so I can look like her.

6. Dinner and a movie with you as my date.

7. This, or this, or this.

8. Something from here.

9. A bench for our bare wall.

I know that was a little "indulgent" as Simon Cowell would say, but just so long as you remember and do something to make it a special day, I'll be happy. I love you.

Growing Up

2009-04-08T13:36:00.008-06:00

Four years, one week, and one day. Four Christmases. Four summers playing in the sun. Four birthdays. One presidential election, and a new president. Two Olympic games. One move to Idaho and one move back. Four "homes." One night in the hospital, connected to an IV. One vacation to Alaska and one to Yellowstone. One baby sister. Twelve cousins born. One new aunt. One first step, first word, first tooth, first day of preschool, first day of Primary, first prayer. Countless stories, songs, pushes on the swing, visits to Grandma and Grandpa's, play dates, trips to the zoo or park or library, walks, hugs, kisses, laughs, smiles, tears, runny noses, changes of clothes, messes, memories. Two beautiful bluish-gray eyes, one button nose, one smile that melts my heart, two arms with two hands, two legs with two feet, one perfect, healthy body, one smart little head finally covered in wavy, blonde hair. Four years, one week, and one day ago my life changed forever. I became a mother.

EM was a week late. Her tardy entry into this world was only the beginning - an indication that EM will always do things in her time, when she is GOOD and ready. And to expect anything else will only lead to disappointment and frustration on all sides. She is stubborn, or in the words of her preschool teacher, "she knows what she wants." And does things her way. A Church teacher once told me that when EM starts school she will be the type of student who will listen to the instructions given and then promptly do the assignment the way EM wants to do it. I have grown to love this about my oldest daughter. I have learned to not worry when she doesn't do things I expect her to do. I have forced myself not to force (or at least to try not to force). She will make friends when she's ready, she will get over her fear of being in front of people when she's ready, she will let me put "pretties" in her hair when she's ready, she will wear something other than her favorite pair of jeans when she's ready, she will become a mamma's girl when she's ready. And she will start kindergarten before I'm ready, she will become more and more independent before I'm ready, she will continue to grow and become a big girl before I'm ready to let go of my baby girl.

As I look at this girl, I wish I could slow down time. How can she possibly be four already?! Another four years and she'll be baptized. An accountable child, capable of knowing right from wrong. Hopefully making GOOD choices. She wants to be big, and I want her to stay little. Four years, one week, and one day my life has been filled with love for a child. My child.

Oh, the Madness!

2009-03-16T21:32:00.010-06:00

I love this time of year. Not only is the ground completely 100% free of snow - which means the girls and I have spent oodles of time outside today, playing, walking, riding bikes, basking in the 50-degree weather, and this evening we actually tilled our garden - but even better than all that....it's time for my secret passion - tall men, sweaty men, in shorts. MARCH MADNESS! I am a huge fan, which is total madness, because I do not watch a single college basketball game during the regular season. But come tournament time I am obsessed. It's those darn brackets. The whole thing is madness - agonizing for days over which team will win each and every game, trying to predict the upsets, and knowing when to play it safe - as if I'm some sort of basketball expert.

I watch every game I possibly can - with intensity, loving every minute of it. Perhaps it's the competitive side of me coming out - needing my bracket to trample every other member of my family's. It has never happened, but every year I have high hopes (it's seriously a fantasy of mine) that somehow, clueless as I am, I will pick the winning bracket. The bracket of all brackets. A bracket that will win me money and prizes and maybe a guest appearance on the Today show, so I could meet Matt Lauer. Or maybe it's just that this is a family tradition - something my family has always enjoyed doing together - whether we're actually at the games or not. Maybe it was actually attending those 1st and 2nd round games that got me hooked. Some of those games were unbelievable. What memories - being there in person where the excitement and energy was palpable! Whatever the reason, that feeling is in the air again.

When I heard the news that my alma mater would be playing their first games in Boise, I immediately started searching for tickets. How much fun it would be to see them play! I was sorely tempted, but....tickets are more pricey than I hoped they would be, and there are so many other things on my "wish list" that I can't really justify the splurge. But, I will be watching and cheering and wishing I was there in person, because nothing is better than watching an incredible upset. So, family of mine, it's on. Who will the winner be this year? My bracket is finally complete - I vowed I wouldn't change it again. We'll see if I can really resist the urge.

I'm feeling GOOD. This just may be my year....my lucky year. If I say that every year - one of these years it may actually be true! The victory will be that much more sweet when I come out of nowhere to defeat all you trash talkers. And you'll be jealous when Matt asks me how I came to be so knowledgeable about filling out brackets. Okay, so technically I just talked a teensy-weensy ounce of smack, but really....compared to what the rest of you all are saying to each other, that was nothing. I'm so ready for my yearly basketball fix. Go Aggies!

Grow Spring!

2009-03-04T22:27:00.005-07:00

Yesterday I pulled out the Easter decorations. Eggs in pastels and flowers of yellow and white. Once our home was filled with the colors of spring I decided to pull out the girls' warm weather clothes. I needed to take inventory - see what we had and what "needed" to be purchased. I must say, the sorting of capris and shorts and tees and tanks and swimsuits and sun hats and flip flops and sandals did nothing GOOD to my severe case of spring fever. EM spent the day in a in a blue sundress with big red flowers and orange capris underneath - as if she could will springtime to stay.

How I anticipate springtime after a long, cold, snowy winter. She is such a tease, promising to come, only to grace us with her presence in brief bits of sunshine and warmth. Springtime, this household is ready to welcome you with open arms (and shorts and tee-shirts and flip flops). Come and stay a while. Give us days in the park, and picnics, and bike rides, and walks without jackets. Let us come out of our hiding. No more arranged play dates. I want to look out my window and see the neighborhood kids playing while their mothers read books or weed gardens. I want to join them. For me, and mine, please come soon, and don't go away.

As I sit here, watching the snow fall, covering the ground that was bare just hours earlier, I fear that I'll have to wait longer than I'd like.

Bipolar

2009-03-03T22:07:00.010-07:00

Happy.... Upset.... Laughing.... Yelling.... Princess.... Ogre.... Obedient.... Stubborn.... Helpful.... Demanding.... Hugging.... Hitting.... Sweet... Nasty.... Snuggling.... Fighting.... Pleasant.... Whining.... Fun.... Miserable.... Playing.... Crying.... "I Love You".... "You're Not Being My Girl".... Sharing.... Teasing.... Grateful.... Taking.... Please and Thank You.... DO IT NOW....!

Life with EM is a roller coaster of emotions.

I Am

2009-03-02T21:05:00.008-07:00

Remember report cards and grades and finals and semesters and all that stuff related to quantifying your performance in school? I miss that. It was my regular dose of affirmation and approval. My way of knowing that I was doing something right. That I was above average. I need that now. Badly.

I have never failed anything....ever. Not a test, not an assignment, and certainly not a class. I was the type of student that was disappointed with a "B." So it's a little troubling that my current performance in my current endeavors is less than satisfactory. I may even be failing. Miserably. Actually, it's not so much failing. My report card would be dotted with "I's." "I" for incomplete....or it could just as easily stand for incompetent, insufficient, imperfect, inadequate....This is not sitting well with me. I much prefer straight "A's."

My abilities as a wife, mother, housekeeper, homemaker, peacemaker, chef, teacher, leader, example, nurturer....and so on and so forth....are incomplete. I am not doing enough, of this I am sure. Tell me, how does one know what is GOOD enough without a handy little report card at the end of the term?

I thrive in quantitative situations. Like math - give me a math problem, with a specific solution, and I will solve it. It may take me a whole sheet of paper and two hours, but when I find the correct answer, I know absolutely and positively that I am right. Nothing feels better. Writing an essay for an English class, on the other hand, was a bit more complicated....because it was subjective and open to interpretation. There wasn't a specific right or wrong answer.

Unfortunately for me, life is more like the essay than the math problem. Except even in English there was a teacher handing out grades - someone to let me know where I ranked. I am flailing and failing pitifully....desperate for feedback. Looking at the state of my house and the general happiness of my children in recent weeks, there is definite room for improvement. And so, tomorrow I will try yet again to be more patient and kind and cleanly and all the things that I should be. Wish me luck, for clearly I need all the help I can get.

Sponge

2009-02-10T22:37:00.006-07:00

Tonight EM said the prayer during family prayer. She nearly always says the prayer. Before we even know what's going on, she's started...."Dear Heavenly Father." Occasionally she'll let CW or I say a "short, little" prayer when she's done. Tonight's prayer went something like this:

"Blessings to this day. We're thankful for mommy, and daddy, and EM, and LuV. We're thankful that we can talk about the Lamanites and then that I can play PBSkids.org."

Maybe reading the Book of Mormon together isn't a total waste of time after all.

How Do You Know She Has an Older Sister?

2009-02-10T22:19:00.004-07:00

Can you say "PLAY" "PRETTY" "PRINCESS"? She can.

How Much is That Doggie in the Window?

2009-02-02T21:04:00.007-07:00

The one with the waggly tail.

It's imminent. At some point in the very near future I will lose the battle. We will become dog owners. CW knows each and every dog listed on ksl.com intimately. And there are thousands. He wastes as much time as I do blog-stalking with his dog-stalking. He longs for a dog of his own. EM loves dogs almost as much as her daddy. I can't really deny her forever. Or can I? I really, really, really DO NOT want a dog.

I am not an animal lover. Never have been. I have a cold, cold heart. The only way I can ease my mind on this issue is by deluding myself. My latest philosophy, and one I hope to be true, is that my feelings for a dog will evolve. Similar to how my feelings for babies have changed since having my own. I have never been a baby lover. I recognized a cute baby when I saw one, but I never had the urge or need or desire to hold her and snuggle her and coo at her. I was more than happy to admire from afar.

I feel quite the same for members of the canine family. There is such a thing as a pretty dog, but even so, I have never felt the need to touch, or pet, or cuddle said animal. I told you, I'm very nearly heartless. Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not cruel, just unaffectionate.

But once the adorable babies were my very own I couldn't get enough holding and snuggling and cooing. I'm still not overly eager to hold babies not belonging to me, but thank GOODness I love cuddling my own. So...my philosophy...perhaps if the dog is mine, and begins to grow on me, and melts a little of my icy heart, maybe, just maybe, I'll be okay with this. Some day.

I Believe!

2009-01-20T20:59:00.011-07:00

Okay, so it is official. I have been married to my liberal husband for too long. And when I say "liberal," we're talking Utah liberal, which by the rest of the country's standards is pretty conservative. I actually listened to the inauguration. I have no interest in politics, but I listened all day long. I really need to have an interest, because it affects me, and my children. My husband has had a man crush on President Obama for some time. Not really a crush, but he's been an Obama supporter all along. I have had my reservations. Clearly he's intelligent. He's articulate, which is so refreshing after what we've been listening to for the past eight years. He's full of lofty promises of great reform, as all politicians are. But there's that part of me that's afraid. Of what I don't know.

As I listened to our new president speak today, I felt hope. Perhaps I have CW to thank for that. After nearly seven years of getting my current events and political news from his perspective, maybe my way of thinking has morphed into his way of thinking. After all, I really don't have my own way of thinking when it comes to politics, so I'm pretty easily persuaded. And CW is smart when it comes to things like politics and economics and stuff that makes my head hurt. Anyway, back to the historic events of the day. Obama left me feeling optimistic. I believe that he is the man for the job right now. The people of this country need someone they have confidence in, especially in our current state of economic uncertainty. We need someone who inspires hope, and he did that for me...an Obama doubter. We definitely need change, and isn't that what Obama's all about? Seriously, why wasn't I working for his campaign?!

It's a scary time. Job security, health care, war, moral decay, a failing educational system, the economy....the list goes on and on. Sometimes I like to remain ignorant on the current state of our country, because the reality of it all terrifies me. And it feels like it's totally out of my control. I hope that President Obama can make GOOD on his word. He has a tough job ahead of him. I don't envy his position. He's walking into a mess...and the expectations are great. I hope he succeeds. I want him to succeed. I hope that the faith and determination he's instilled in Americans thus far continues beyond the first few days and months of his presidency. I have lots and lots of hope. Time will tell.

With all this recent talk of majority and minority I have realized that for the first time I feel like a minority in this country. I am a minority because I define marriage as being between a man and a woman. I am a minority because I believe that an unborn child has a right to live. My values are not consistent with what the majority considers to be acceptable, and now I find that I am a minority in our society. And so while I have hope that Obama can do some GOOD for our nation, I also recognize that he is not the solution to our moral dilemmas. That is up to those of us in the minority to make our voices heard.

Wow, you will never again get a political post from me, because, really, politics is not my cup of tea, but this is history in the making, and I want to be a part of it, even if I am an ignoramus.

Remember Me?

2009-01-11T20:41:00.006-07:00

Happy Housewife, is that really you? Really and truly. Had you given up on me? Taken me for dead or imprisoned or vacationing in Bora Bora? Well, no, just haven't been blogging. Don't start, I've already been reprimanded. "Once you've started blogging you're obligated to keep your posts up-to-date." So I'm told. Otherwise your faithful readership will just stop being faithful. Ouch. I'm not even sure my readership and I have had the "talk" about where our relationship stands. I can't say I blame them for being unfaithful when I'm still not sure I'm ready to "commit" to blogging. Besides, I thought family members were bound by blood to read my blog. I was counting on my large family and my husband's large family as a built-in fan base. Oh well, I guess I will never be a cjane. Whom I love, by the way. And, no, I don't actually know her, but I do know her sister-in-law, which is a lot more than a lot of her readership can say. This is exactly why I didn't want to become a blogger. Too much pressure. Expectations. I just don't need any more of that than I have already self-inflicted.

When there are actually worthwhile things to blog about I'm too busy. Now that it's the middle of January and absolutely nothing worthwhile is going on, I wonder is it too late to go back and recap the last month? I suppose not. After all, this is MY blog and I can do whatever I want. Unless I want unfaithful readers on my hands....

We had a cozy little Christmas here at home...just me and CW and the two girls. There was a fire in the fireplace on Christmas Eve. There was a less than fabulous roast for dinner (just because I'm a happy housewife does not mean I am perfect at my job). But the rolls definitely made up for it, thank you very much. And with the cranberry-pineapple jam gifted to us from our neighbors, they were beyond heavenly. There were PJs opened Christmas Eve. Sisters exchanged gifts. The big sister was more interested in playing with the toy she had GIVEN than the one she RECEIVED. But LuV was happy just because EM was happy. We attempted to read the story of Christ's birth from the Bible. It wasn't overly successful. Girls were tucked into bed.

When we all awoke we discovered that Santa had, in fact, found us. The girls were pleased with their Christmas loot. EM found every gift exciting. And LuV was excited by anything that EM found exciting. They couldn't have been happier. CW and I couldn't have been happier. We stayed in our pajamas until late afternoon, watching Kung Fu Panda and eating clementines.

All I want for Christmas is a pair of scissors! She has been working on "projects" ever since.

I loved it. Every minute of it. I loved that presents had been wrapped weeks earlier. Once stockings were stuffed and presents set under the tree, I was in bed. At a reasonable hour. Except that I stayed up all night watching Chuck on DVD, so I was not in bed at anywhere close to a reasonable hour. But I could have been. I loved that the Christmas morning chaos was confined to our two children. I loved being lazy all day, watching movies the girls had received in their stockings. I loved going down to Grandma and Grandpa's later in the day. Cousins played. We snacked and ate and snacked some more. We visited. It snowed. A lot. We spent the night. The next day was more of the same. We played a lot of Wii. I am finally a fan - especially of tennis, but only when it's doubles. And Wii Fit is pretty fun, too....except that I am unbalanced. We came home to a house covered in over a foot of snow, not to mention at least a foot of wrapping paper and post-Christmas mess inside the house.

We spent a couple lazy days at home before making the trek up north to spend New Year's with my parents. It was nice. We were the only ones there, besides my three youngest siblings who are spouseless and childless. It was quiet and calm. It was good to spend time without the whole gang there. I got together for dinner with some high school friends. We laughed. Hard. More to come on that experience. My brother and his wife and their little boy came and partied with us for New Year's Eve. I am getting old, or boring, or both, because I can barely stay awake to ring in the New Year anymore. I came home 5 lbs heavier.

And now the tree is down. It is just January. 2009. Another year. Older. It is cold. Some days are unbearably cold. But the holidays were GOOD. One of the best, really. For that I am grateful. And I have these two cute little girls to thank for making it the best holiday ever. Christmas. With small children. A fire in a fireplace. A warm home in which to celebrate. Family and friends. I am blessed. Immeasurably.

Animal Instincts and Other Random Thoughts

2008-12-18T20:11:00.004-07:00

I have been noticing of late that I eat A LOT. No really, a lot. I could also sleep for days if I weren't responsible for two li'l girls...who are stinking cute, by the way. So I am either pregnant or I am getting myself ready for the long winter months. Maybe I was a bear in a past life...hibernation suits me.

Why is it that my almost 15-month-old insists upon roaming free while out shopping - refusing to be confined to a shopping cart or her mother's arms - and yet, when I want her to go play and run around at home she insists that I hold her?

The other day we were cleaning up breakfast before EM went to preschool. She said to me, "Mom, your hair is crazy. You really need to fix it before you take me to preschool." She is already embarrassed by her crazy-haired mother! How does a 3-year-old whose hair is ALWAYS crazy become concerned with how her mother's hair looks in public?

I am so glad that I finished my Christmas shopping the first week in December...I had to go to Wal-Mart for some random non-Christmas item, and there is not an ounce of Christmas spirit in Wal-Mart the week before Christmas. Then again, it was Wal-Mart, and even when it's not Christmastime I can't think of a single pleasant experience I've had shopping at that store. Regardless, I am making a mental note to do my Christmas shopping early from now on (and also not to shop at Wal-Mart).

Some days I look at my girls and for a brief moment my heart melts...my heart breaks...my heart aches...my heart pounds. I can't adequately describe the feeling, but it overwhelms me. I am consumed with love for these two little munchkins. The rest of the 23 hours 59 minutes and 50 seconds are spent losing my temper, pulling my hair out, scolding, reprimanding, saying "NO!", losing sleep...but in those 10 seconds none of it matters. They are the most perfect things I've ever laid eyes on, and they belong to me, forever and ever and ever.

GOOD Intentions

2008-12-12T21:41:00.021-07:00

CW arrived home from work, and I promptly sent him back out (with both girls in tow) to purchase a gingerbread house kit. I try hard to be festive...even though it doesn't always work out for me, what with two small children who don't always cooperate. He came home with the only gingerbread kit they had left...a Disney princess gingerbread castle. How perfectly fitting...we're big princess fans in this household. We bribed EM...she had to eat ALL her dinner before we could build the castle. She ate every last bite, and when she was done she had one protruding belly. But interestingly enough she did not request a bowl of cereal, piece of bread, and/or glass of milk before bed. I think we're on to something here!

We began our building and decorating with gusto...visions of a princess' dream castle danced in our heads. By the time the four walls were glued together with sugary paste, the enthusiasm was already starting to wane. Instead of making a castle fit for a Disney princess, the girls were more interested in:

Just like their momma, they can't pass up sugar in any form. We'd made it this far...
and EM was no longer interested in painting the castle walls pink. I could not manage the sticky goo, and was making even more of a mess than my 3-year-old. So, I graciously took LuV to the bath...leaving CW alone to create "our" masterpiece. What a GOOD sport...not even his idea in the first place, and left to finish the job. And finish he did. Our gingerbread castle may not win any awards, and in the end the girls were more interested

in their bowls of mint chocolate chip ice cream

(and who can blame them?),

reading Skippyjon Jones,

which led to tickling,

which led to snuggling,

until it was time to go to bed...which both girls did without complaint.

but it was a splendid evening, nonetheless. Mostly because I didn't stress about things that are irrelevant. Things that I normally have a hard time letting go. Who cares that our princess castle turned out nothing like the picture on the box? Who cares that EM lost interest after 5 minutes of gingerbread castle making? We were together, we were happy, and EM thinks our princess castle is beautiful, so what else really matters? And yes, CW really is the superdad he appears to be in the photos. He does it all, and he does it best...you got a problem with that?

And here is CW's finished project in all its pink, snow-capped glory....

Economic Hard Times

2008-12-09T21:00:00.002-07:00

Even the deer are struggling in this time of economic crisis. ALL DAY LONG, nine deer feasted in our backyard. They must really be hungry to come this far down off the mountain, and to stay all day! The crazy animals weren't even scared of us. In fact, I think they were a little annoyed that we'd invaded their backyard. And still one deer remains....(s)he has apparently decided to stake a claim for breakfast in the morning. See, CW, our house isn't THAT bad....the deer like it better than any other house on the street. Aren't we lucky?

Winter Wonderland

2008-12-09T07:42:00.004-07:00

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow...I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas...Walking in a Winter Wonderland...In the air there's a feeling of Christmas.

It finally feels like December! I finally have an excuse to stay cuddled up inside in my pajamas, and drink cocoa while watching Christmas movies with my girls. I'm finally officially ready for Christmas...now that we've got a blanket of snow covering the ground.

My TV "Type"

2008-12-06T12:24:00.039-07:00

Is it just me, or do they look alike?

Okay, I cannot believe I am blogging about television, but apparently this is what my life has come to. So, CW and I have not yet joined the 21st century. We don't have DVR...what am I talking about - DVR??? We don't even have cable...or a flat screen...I know, how ever do we survive? Our bunny ears are bent and broken, our SINGLE television set's home is in our dark, dungeon of a basement, and the only station that we get decent reception for is PBS. That is why I am totally up to date on Curious George, Word Girl, Super Why, and Word World...but pretty much clueless as to what is currently going on in the rest of the sitcom/drama world. While I realize there are other GOOD alternatives to catching up on my shows - for instance, the Internet - I have chosen Netflix to fulfill my TV obsessions.

I actually prefer watching an entire season on my own terms. No commercials, no anxiety over what will happen in next week's episode, no frustration with writers' strikes. If I choose I can sit and watch an entire season in one sitting (that is, if I were childless and husbandless and jobless and had absolutely nothing better to do). The price I pay? Being a little behind the times in my TV "current" events. Has Jim proposed to Pam? What has become of the passengers of Oceanic Flight 815? I don't have to ask what House is up to - he's still antisocial, still cynical, still addicted to Vicodin, still a genius....just solving new cases that I've yet to see. So what if I find out a year later than everyone else?

I'd heard GOOD things about a new show (new to me, anyway) - Chuck. So, last week I received in my mailbox the first disc of the first season. Loved it. Loved Chuck. Now I have a dilemma. My absolute and only TV/Hollywood crush has been Jim Halpert (aka John Krasinski). How can I handle two crushes? How can CW handle me having two crushes? Who would I choose, if I were forced to choose...Jim...or Chuck?!

A Handful of Attitude

2008-12-05T19:48:00.010-07:00

I have been a bit lazy with the whole blogging thing of late. It's not that I haven't had things to say. Thanksgiving came and went with nary a word from me about all the GOODness in my life. My girls continue to grow up before my very eyes, and daily they do and say silly and adorable and wonderful and horrible things. Sometimes the idea of trying to put my thoughts into writing overwhelms me. I stress about it too much...which is why I was hesitant to even start a blog in the first place. Anyway, here I am, for better or worse.

We went to my parents' house for Thanksgiving....this post is not about the delectable food, the chaotic house filled with 10 grandchildren aged three and under, seeing Twilight with the girls, or satisfying my yearly quota for board games, but we did have a fabulous time. That is, aside from CW ripping the tendons in his finger while trying out for the Turkey bowl - my brothers are seriously serious when it comes to Thanksgiving and football. Poor guy has to keep his finger perfectly straight for eight weeks. This is no easy task, and I realize what a nuisance it must be. But he isn't complaining a whole lot when it's time to do the dishes or bathe the girls, and he is conveniently unable to help. Doctor's orders. He just complains the rest of the time. Love you, sweetie. As I said, this post is not about Thanksgiving, but what has transpired since we returned from Grandma and Grandpa's house.

EM has learned responsibility? She has manners? She is growing up?! Overall she has been an absolute angel this week...so polite and helpful and full of praise for her deserving mother. We ran errands and she was obedient - there were no tantrums. She got her hair cut and she sat still and was pleasant to the woman cutting her hair. This cannot be my child. She tells me regularly that she loves me. The crying and screaming and throwing of fits has significantly decreased. She broke a bottle of mom's perfume (just a little mini sample vial...not the end of the world). She came and told me what she had done and apologized, when normally she would have tried to hide it until the aroma gave her away. Not to mention that once her crime was uncovered the old EM would certainly not have apologized without major coercing.

Heavenly. I like this new daughter of mine. Except that the accidents kept coming and coming and coming. Each time she was full of remorse and said exactly what I, as her mother, wanted to hear. It's awfully hard to get upset when she takes blame and admits that she did something wrong and that it was an accident and she's so sorry that she broke a candle...and another candle...and she wrote in pen on her dress...and she woke LuV up when she'd just barely gotten to sleep...and she broke the angel's wing from the nativity (again, not something I really cared about, but still...what if it had been?)...and I can't remember everything else, but I promise the catastrophes were never ending, or so it seemed. Perhaps it was just because this was the week that all the fun Christmas decorations got pulled out of storage. Christmas decorations that are not always kid friendly.

So I'm wondering - did EM really figure out how to get away with all her mischief? Is she really that smart? And how did she do it? How did she learn this while at Grandma and Grandpa's, surrounded by children younger than her three years and eight months? Aha! There were a couple major incidents at Grandma and Grandpa's involving EM - a broken lamp shade and some excessive cutting of the ping pong table's net with a pair of scissors inadvertently left on the floor. Of course my parents were far more gracious than I would have been...they were much more forgiving than they ought to have been...What are grandparents GOOD for if not to be loving and forgiving even when we're at our worst?

Is this how she discovered that the punishment is less severe when she says and does all the right things after she says or does something wrong? Should I be glad for this? Is this a GOOD thing? This is what I hope she knows. If not now, at least some day. When she does mess up there is a proper way to make it right again. To recognize that she will make mistakes (and usually they happen immediately after she has been asked NOT to do something). It is better to accept responsibility and admit what she's done. To SINCERELY apologize. Try, try, try to be more careful next time.

I must admit I find myself a lot less frustrated with her, even though the mischief and trouble and mess is no less. So, I'll just be grateful for that...if I'm trying to be optimistic here.

And one last thing...where does this girl get her attitude?! It couldn't possibly be from High School Musical 2, which I let her watch with me the other day. She's definitely got the eye-rolling, exasperated tone of voice, two syllable "Mo-om" thing down pat...and she's 3??? Okay, she was born with attitude, but please, oh please let her get it out of her system now so that she will be a delightfully pleasant and obedient teenager.

Sisterly Love

2008-11-20T22:22:00.006-07:00

On Tuesday and Thursday mornings EM goes to preschool for 2 1/2 hours. I thought this was going to give me a GOOD break a couple days a week. I'd be able to clean the house, do laundry, maybe even read a book! Wishful thinking. For those 2 1/2 hours I am on LuV entertainment duty. With no big sister to play with, I get to attempt to replace EM. I don't do a very GOOD job. LuV walks around the house, calling "E? E?" It isn't as fun to read stories or play games when it's just the two of us. She misses EM and all her silliness. She's whiny and needy and 11:30 can't get here soon enough. At about 11:20 I announce that it's time to go "bye-bye" so we can get EM. Immediately her face brightens and she reaches for me to pick her up and get her loaded into the car. Today as we drove to pick EM up I looked back at LuV in my rear view mirror. She was looking longingly at EM's empty booster seat. We all agree, life is so much more fun with EM around.

Oh, the Hypocrisy

2008-11-19T21:58:00.010-07:00

Last Sunday I taught a lesson in church to the 14 and 15-year-old girls on GOOD health habits. Me, a lesson on GOOD health habits. My health habits involve devouring an entire pan of apple crisp in one evening (nearly did so tonight). My weight fluctuates more than a politician's promises (don't believe me, look at my high school yearbook from sophomore to junior year). Okay, so my health habits have hopefully improved somewhat since high school, but still I'm not exactly an exemplary role model in this department. Since those high school yo-yo weight years, I have never been able to look in a mirror and see what I really, actually, physically look like. Ask my little sister. Back in the day I would drive her crazy asking her how I compared to passersby. "Am I bigger or skinnier than her?" Nowadays I just use a scale and how tight my jeans fit as a standard of comparison. I'm pretty sure CW would not appreciate me asking him to compare my weight to other women's. So what do I say to these girls? Do I tell them all my poor health habits and say, "Do as I say not as I do (or did)?" Or do I pretend to be Patty Perfect who eats only fruits and veggies and whole grains and meat sparingly and exercises daily? You really don't need to answer that question, but sometimes I feel like such a hypocrite giving these lessons to THESE girls. They are way better than me.

And so, to add insult to injury, I get a call Monday evening. From a member of the bishopric. I thought Monday evenings were supposed to be off-limits for such phone calls. I am speaking this Sunday in church. On prayer. I am not a perfect prayer. I do not have a perfect testimony of prayer. Now, don't panic anyone. I recognize the importance and need for it. I just struggle with it sometimes. And so, I get to, once again, preach my hypocrisy. This time it's not just in front of five adolescent girls. This time I get to preach it from the pulpit to the entire congregation! I know that I'm being melodramatic. I don't have to be perfect in order to give a lesson or a talk on a subject. How many times have I heard someone say, "I learned more from preparing this lesson/talk than...."? So, apparently I've got a thing or two to learn. Who knew? As it's the Sunday before Thanksgiving, I think it's more than appropriate to talk about prayers of gratitude. I can handle that.

Happy Veterans Day

2008-11-11T22:45:00.012-07:00

A couple weeks ago I went to lunch with my sisters-in-law and mother-in-law. One of the topics of conversation, a topic that only other mothers can truly appreciate, was "mommy brain" or "momnesia." Apparently Oprah's very own Dr. Oz claimed that a pregnant woman's brain can shrink up to 8% while she is pregnant! Something to do with Omega-3 fats, but let's not get technical here. So in order to help grow back a brain you are supposed to take Omega-3 fats and get plenty of sleep. I have never taken Omega-3 fatty acids, and it has been well over a year since I got a full night's sleep. That reminds me, I forgot that I should be in bed right now. I think I will finish this post tomorrow. GOOD night.

Well, it is now days later, and I am debating whether to finish this silly post or not, but since I am a firm believer in starting what I finish (or switch that around)...So, some of you may have been aware that Tuesday was Veterans Day. I should have been aware, but apparently my brain has shrunk so much that I cannot remember a tiny detail for 48 little hours. The youth group from our church, of which I am supposedly a "leader," puts flags up on applicable holidays in order to raise money for various activities.

Tuesday morning felt like any other morning to me. It looked like any other morning. I wake up and lie in bed until it is absolutely necessary to get up and take care of my children. I feed them and dress them and do all the things a GOOD mother should. It was a Tuesday, which means that I actually leave the house to take EM to preschool. As I turn off my street I see a sight that makes my stomach sink. There are festive flags of red, white, and blue waving from the front lawn of every house, except the poor houses on my pitiful flagless street. Someone dropped the ball - big time. Sunday - less than 48 hours ago - an announcement was made. Meet at 6:30 a.m. to put up flags. My brain took that little piece of information and immediately discarded it. I didn't sleep in - I was awake at 6:30 (though not necessarily up and at 'em). I simply had no recollection when I awoke that morning that it was any other day than a normal Tuesday.

All I can say is thank GOODness it was a Tuesday! Most days the chances that I would have left the house at all, let alone by 9:00 a.m., are pretty non-existent. Looking out my window, all I saw were my neighbors' houses barren of their Veterans Day flags. I would have remained blissfully oblivious to the fact that just that very morning my group of girls stood waiting in the cold for their trustworthy leader to show up. Hope they didn't wait too long.

Needless to say, I cursed myself all the way to preschool. "I am an idiot." EM replied, "Yep, Mom, you are." Thanks, sweetie, love you too. Maybe she doesn't really know what the word "idiot" means, and that to her it is a princess-like creature who is loved by all and is practically perfect in every way. Let's just pretend.

I put the flags up, with the help of a kindly man who took pity on my idiocy. It was only three hours late. I only hoped the girls could find it in their hearts to forgive me. I wouldn't blame them if they decided to leave me on my own for President's Day, 4th of July, 24th of July, Labor Day, and whatever other holidays warrant a flag. I brought hot cocoa and donuts that evening when it was time to take the flags down. What else could I do?

So, who knew that senility begins in your thirties? I didn't think I needed to start posting post-it notes all over the place for at least another couple decades. I can just imagine it:

"your name is SaM, husband is CW and kids are EM and LuV"
"brush your teeth"
"pluck"
"dress yourself - preferably something weather appropriate and/or matching"
"your children will need to be cleaned and fed and clothed...and a billion other things"

Fortunately for me that last one is not a problem. My kids are very GOOD at reminding me of what I need to do for them. Anyway, it is now 11:21 p.m. and I am still not in bed - not GOOD for my brain function. I still have not rushed out to buy myself an Omega-3 supplement - not GOOD for my brain function. When, oh when, will I learn?

Oh Baby

2008-11-09T17:51:00.005-07:00

I was talking to a friend the other night, and she asked me if I was still nursing LuV. When I responded in the affirmative, she called me a "baby." How rude! So, apparently it is not my 13-month old who's the baby, it's yours truly. She's right. I'll admit, I'm scared. It's going to be a battle. At this point it's just easier to maintain the status quo. But at what point do I draw the line, and say enough is enough? Six months ago I vowed that she would be weaned by her first birthday. Her first birthday came and went a month ago. I rationalize. She's only 13 months.

Except what will I be saying when she's 18 months? Or two years? Heaven forbid I end up one of those mothers who's still nursing her kindergartner! I don't know if I'm ready to quit (okay, if I'm being honest, I was ready to quit six months ago). I want LuV to be ready (okay, if I'm being honest, she may NEVER be ready). So what does one in my predicament do? She is not a great eater. She does not drink cow's milk or soy's milk or any other milk than momma's milk. I know she won't starve to death, but sometimes it feels like pulling the plug on nursing is literally pulling the plug. After all, I am her life support, am I not?

So to my faithful readers, all three of you, (and I apologize to any of you who may be uncomfortable with this topic) I ask, what age is too old? At what age does the thought of a child STILL nursing repulse you? When will I become the topic of family discussions (where I am conveniently not present)? "Did you hear that SaM STILL nurses LuV? How disgusting! She really needs to stop." I don't want any of you throwing up in your mouths, not even a little bit, when I am the topic of conversation. When do I become one of THOSE moms, that even I have talked about, rolled my eyes at, made judgemental judgements about, and thought to myself, "I would NEVER nurse a child that long...that is just so wrong."?

And then, once I have my answer of when, where to even begin with the HOW?!

The Evolution of a Nerd

2008-11-04T20:52:00.009-07:00

In high school a POPULAR boy called me - not for a date - not to chat - but because he needed the answers to a school assignment.

I took the ACT three times and the SAT once.

In college I would come home from class and recopy my notes until they were perfection (sorry environmentalists).

I won the Freshman Chemistry Handbook Award.

I love taking standardized tests! In addition to the ACT and SAT I took the MCAT and GRE (and I was so looking forward to help CW study for the LSAT and/or GMAT until he decided it was a no go).

My secret indulgence is doing MATH PUZZLES and LOGIC PROBLEMS - I am totally addicted once I get started!

I have always been and will always be a nerd. What makes you a nerd?

Trick-or-Treat

2008-11-02T21:36:00.006-07:00

Happy Halloween! We have been anticipating this day for weeks. EM was so excited to be Jessie, the cowgirl from Toy Story 2. That was until she went to preschool Thursday, and saw all the other kids in their costumes. She came home telling me all the things she REALLY wanted to be. That girl has a serious case of the "I needs." Who knew a 3 1/2-year-old would NEED a box of tissues, simply because it's Disney princess?

Last year's Halloween experience was not everything I had hoped it would be. I don't know why I try to force my children to enjoy holidays they are too young to really understand or appreciate or care the least about. But, I continue to try and I continue to be disappointed. At least there's hope - at 3 1/2 and 1, we've got a few Halloweens to come. If I have my way we'll have a GOOD Halloween someday. If CW has his way, we'll forget the holiday all together. I'll get my way.

So, what happened last year? CW took EM trick-or-treating. At the first house she got a pink candy. What could possibly be better than a pink candy? Apparently not a granola bar. It was only the second house, and already she had made up her mind what was GOOD enough for her. She threw that healthy, non-pink granola bar right back at our new neighbors. EM came home from her first trick-or-treating adventure with a single pink candy.

This year I coached her. What do you say when you get to the door? "Trick-or-treat." What do you say when they give you the candy (or granola bar, as the case may be)? "Thank you." I was anxious to see how the evening would actually play out. CW took EM out trick-or-treating with her cousins (this time we weren't in our own neighborhood, so if her manners failed her again, at least we had anonymity on our side). EM returned home dragging her trick-or-treat bag on the ground it was so heavy. Must not have been too much throwing of candy back into the face of the giver. I asked EM how it went. Her report back...I said "thank you." Such a perfect child. I'm her mom, and as such, I have magical mom powers, so I know that's not how it really went down. This is how I see it playing out: she gets her candy, she turns her back and starts to walk away, when she's no longer facing the person and is too far away for anyone to hear her she timidly whispers the words to the sidewalk. That way she did what Mom told her to do, but she was still able to avoid making eye contact or actually speaking to an adult - GOOD grief, that is just asking way too much.

I asked her if she said "trick-or-treat." "Next time, Mom." I'll take that.

Baby Steps

2008-10-28T21:06:00.006-06:00

LuV is walking! Or almost, sort of, trying to, if only she had just a little more coordination or confidence or both. She is definitely taking steps, and she is so proud of herself...and I am a proud mommy. I love watching her test her newfound ability. She is still unsteady and slow. At best she can take four or five steps before she loses her balance. What I love most is that even though crawling is much easier, safer, and quicker, she insists on trying to walk. I love the smile she gets on her face, knowing that she has accomplished something great. That smile that says, "Look at me, look what I can do!" It is full of pride (GOOD pride), happiness, freedom, satisfaction, and accomplishment. She can succeed at anything - she believes that, and I hope that she continues to believe that for a long, long time.

Note to Self

2008-10-23T22:24:00.005-06:00

I don't have anything terribly important to say, but it's been a while, so here I am. Lately I have had to do a lot of baking for various reasons...pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies, pumpkin spice cookies. Have I mentioned that I love autumn? I love autumn. For several reasons. Many of these reasons involve food. Soup. Apples (already mentioned in a previous post). Pumpkin. I love pumpkin - cookies, pie, ice cream, seeds, anything pumpkin. Anyway, back to my baking frenzy. Yesterday I was frosting sugar cookies when EM came into the kitchen. Our conversation went something like this.

EM: "Mom, I need a cookie."

Me: "You can have a cookie after we eat dinner."

EM: "Mommy, I just need one cookie, I don't need five."

Take that, fatty. She had, of course, observed me during the day snacking, and munching, and tasting, and nibbling the unfrosted cookies...I ate way more than five. I know she noticed, because at one point she informed me that I was going to eat all the cookies if I didn't stop. Maybe some day I'll be able to restrain myself to just one, but I'm not counting on it. If only I were so lucky as to have been born with some self control. Side note: EM did get her one cookie before dinner. She's too cute to resist sometimes. (And according to CW, I'm already helping her on her way to her own little sweet addiction. So sorry, my dear.)

Like Two Peas in a Pod...Make it Frozen Peas

2008-10-16T20:46:00.006-06:00

Let me preface this post with a brief description of EM's relationship with her dad. She was born her daddy's girl. As soon as she was able to voice her preference, she has clearly made it known that she prefers dad...always, in any given situation, with no exception. Mom is no substitute. When she has to make do with me, it's always with the anticipation that daddy will soon be home to make her world complete. For the most part I am okay with this. I love that CW is such a GOOD father, the kind of dad that makes his little girl adore him. But, come on, I'm a mother...there is a part of me that longs for my child to long for me. So, when baby #2 came around, I thought maybe this time I could be the favorite.

Well, fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately, in the long run) LuV came from the womb with a strong distaste for bottles. And so, as her sole provider of nourishment for the first months of her life, I am indeed her preferred parent. Sadly the reasoning for this preference is based on her need to survive...but I'll gladly take what I can get.

And so we finally arrive at the present day. Today was picture day. My friend had agreed to be our family photographer. In eager anticipation I awoke and immediately laid all of our outfits on the bed, just like it was the first day of school. It was going to be a beautiful day, we were going to look stunning in our family pics. I went downstairs to change the laundry. I heard a thud, followed by crying...nothing major, but crying that warranted my attention. It's hard to get a straight story from a 3 1/2-year-old, so I'm not exactly sure what happened, but LuV had a nice red circle (that would then turn to a bluish/purplish circle) on her forehead. I refused to let a little bonk ruin our photo session - everything was still set to turn out gloriously. A few hours later, yet again in the laundry room, I somehow managed to whack my head on the sharp corner of the door. Seriously, what is wrong with me? It was painful beyond belief. I had to assess my condition to be sure that I was not concussed. It throbbed, it ached, it pulsated...I had to medicate myself. But first I had to see how bad the damage was. Make-up covered up the redness, and if you looked at me head-on it wasn't so bad. But get a shot of me from any angle, and I looked seriously deformed. Half my forehead protruded like I was sporting some sort of abnormal growth.

Deja vu. Flash back 6 1/2 years. I was engaged, and a bit stressed to boot. Our engagement was a short one...not a lot of time for planning and throwing everything together. My poor complexion showed just how stressed I was. It was hideous...not even my dear mother could think of something comforting to say about my condition. Engagement photos were put off for another day...and put off again. To no avail. That face of mine was stubborn, and the carnage was not going away...not soon enough anyway. And so, when I thought things just couldn't possibly get worse...well, you probably have already guessed that they did. I was living at my aunt and uncle's, in an older home. For whatever reason there was a towel rack in the shower. Need I say more? I hit my head hard on that useless contraption, leaving a goose egg to be remembered. I was not a happy bride-to-be during those engagement photos.

So, my question is...do the photography gods hate me? I am not such a beautiful person that I need to be humbled every time I attempt to professionally capture this face. In fact, I am not a particularly photogenic person in the first place. It just doesn't seem fair does it? Are you wondering where I'm going with this post - random as it has been. Well, as I looked at LuV's tiny (in comparison) bump and my gargantuan tumor...I knew she was mine. She is my child, my baby girl, my daughter...clumsiness and all. As I held her in my arms before bed tonight, she snuggled into me, and she fit perfectly against my body. She was made for me. Just for me. (And CW, too, of course).

Thank GOODness for Diet Coke, Photoshop, Nielsen's frozen custard, and a new dress that hopefully detracted from the forehead.

Apple of My Eye

2008-10-14T21:30:00.016-06:00

It is apple picking time. Our trees are heavy with sweet, delicious fruit. I love having a home with fruit trees. One of the few domestic tasks that I enjoy is preserving the food that is grown right in my own backyard. While I realize that my 18 precious bottles of peaches I canned or my soon-to-be homemade applesauce will not sustain our little family for long...it feels GOOD knowing that I am doing something. A little something is at least something, right? So, as I've got apples on my mind, I've also been thinking about the apple of my eye. Lately I have felt especially grateful for my GOOD husband. Some days I can't believe he's mine. Let me tell you just a few of the reasons I'm so lucky:

1. He mows the lawn with a 32-pound child strapped to his back.

2. He eats anything and everything I cook, with seldom a complaint.

3. He puts EM to bed every night, from start to finish, with original CW stories, songs, back scratches, the works.

4. He took both girls to his parent's house (an hour drive away) last Sunday. All by himself. And he came home completely unfrazzled!

5. He takes walks every day during his lunch hour, just to keep his tummy nice and firm.

6. He spends his free time drawing simple house plans, because his greatest desire is to SIMPLIFY our lives.

7. He acts like I'm the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, which maybe suggests he should get his vision checked, but still a bonus for me.

8. He is always willing to play and have fun with his kids - he is definitely the favorite in our household. EM absolutely adores him, and if it weren't for the fact that CW is unable to produce milk, he'd be LuV's fave as well.

9. He is a GOOD sport about doing what I want to do...he knows who Rory and Lorelei are, he's seen the entire 5 hours of the A&E version of Pride and Prejudice (more than once), he's played Dance Dance Revolution, he's spent our coveted date nights clothes shopping with me...what a guy.

10. He loves ME. Even when I'm mean and horrible and unlovable he doesn't judge me or criticize me.

If you are still reading, I am impressed. Not to worry, I am not prone to being overly sentimental or lovey-dovey very often, but some days it's GOOD to know you're loved. So CW, I LOVE YOU, and think you're as yummy as this apple EM's devouring. Plus, we have really cute kids!

Welcome Winter, Welcome Me

2008-10-12T23:58:00.003-06:00

I cannot believe that I am actually joining the blog-world. Unfortunately, the perfectionist in me would not let me quit until I felt that my blog was satisfactory - at least somewhat presentable, not too terribly embarrassing. It is now very, very late. Tomorrow I will kick myself for allowing myself to become obsessed with this. But, before I lay my weary head to rest I wanted to welcome myself to blogging. I am in over my head, this I know already. I know that I will agonize over each post, wondering if it's clever enough, wishing I was more articulate, or that I had a witty sense of humor. So as I begin this new adventure, I promise myself that I will try not to stress (too much), to succumb to blog envy, or to over think what I want to write. I simply want to remember the moments along the way. Each day brings happiness in some form, and this blog is for me to record the GOOD in my life.

As we woke to the first snow of the season this morning, I watched EM, my 3 1/2-year-old daughter, delight in the wonder of nature. She could hardly wait to go out and experience the miracle for herself. Not until her hands were frozen stiff would she come inside. When did I lose my fascination with such simple joys? Thank GOODness for children who remind me of all that is GOOD, and who help me find pleasure in the world around me.