The Boy Does Own Pants

First of all let me say, it is not easy to get a shot of this little one that is not blurry. Partly, yes, because of the crap camera I have mentioned before, but mostly due to the fact he is rarely still. Now, Brian is always the first to comment on Caleb's lack of wearing pants in pictures. To my credit, he almost always begins the day wearing pants, but he either takes them off, or won't sit still long enough after the diaper change for me to put them back on. And as a mother, you know you have to choose your battles. And wearing pants is frankly just not that high on my priority scale. So this is how he looks. A lot. To be honest though, I love his little legs. They are loosing the baby chub, getting longer and thinning out. I look at this picture and it makes me see how he is becoming a boy right before my eyes. I mean, I am trying to not even blink this time around and it is still just happening so fast. I still hang on to calling him my baby. I am one of those mothers. And I am still counting his age in months. Sorry. I can't help it. I have never been good with change. And my babies growing up and leaving babyhood behind is one of those changes that are hard for me to accept.

Just in Case the My Little Pony Underwear Wasn't Enough

Sometimes I think I have failed in teaching my children how to clean up after themselves. It often seems as though I really am raising pigs. It's either that, or baby tornados. Ya, let's go with that. So they are constantly leaving stuff lying around. Such as small dirty socks to get sucked up in the vacum (oh yes, it has happened), shoes to trip over, legos to provide shooting pain for the feet, crayons to snap, and random toys to just basically give the whole "living with three kids" feel to our home. And it works really well. I doubt anyone has stepped foot into our home and wondered, "Do these people have children?" So yes, we do have children and there is a lot of evidence in this place. And all the bad stuff aside, I love it. I love the proof of my children. My kids are always drawing things. And almost every single day I come into my bedroom to see some kind of note or picture made just for me. It is usually placed on or under my pillow. Sometimes I climb into bed in the dark to a sound of crunching paper. It warms me and fills me and really does make me very happy every single time I see their little masterpieces. It is the best evidence my children exist. And one day, not too far into the future, these little masterpieces will be all the proof I have that children were once part of this home. And I am definately not looking forward to that.

Making Giving Birth to His 9lbs.9 ounce Body Totally Worth It

February 19, 2008

We made it through the worst of the sickness and I am breathing a sigh of relief!

My first baby is almost 8. EIGHT YEARS old! I have trouble getting that through my head lately. I mean he is in the big teeth phase. You know, where their teeth look larger than their face? He combs his own hair (You pick your battles), he has his own ideas on style (priceless), and he is half way to driver's ed. He is more than half way to thinking his parents are extremely uncool and completely embarassing. Okay, well he is there already, but the point is that he is so grown up. He is Jonas; no longer an extension of his parents. That thought made me look at him today. I mean really look at him. I saw his goodness. I saw his wisdom. I saw his strength. I saw his love for people. I saw his good sense of humor. I saw his budding confidence. And I just loved him a little more. And so I had to take this picture to remember him, right now, at almost eight, breaking my heart with pride at the man he is becoming.

Putting in Overtime on This One

February 18, 2008

101.9. No, not a radio station. Not my IQ score either. Not the temperature outside. No definately not that. It is the average body temperature Jonas and Hailey have had the past three days and it is still raging in Hailey. And this is what three days of a high fever looks like. Just in case you haven't seen. This is the pretty side of it too. I am going to spare you the gory details. Let's just say pretty isn't something we are seeing that much of around this home right now. Cross your fingers for a better tomorrow.

Yep, one of those weekends

You know the weekend I had. The coughing. The runny noses. The fevers. The head aches. The nausea quickly followed by projectile vomit. Ok, so this time we had it all but the vomit. For that I am grateful. But it's one thing when you have one sick kid, but when you have multiples, well everything gets complicated. The rubbing of the backs. The fighting over what to watch. Situatating them both on the couch comfortably and no body parts touching because you know how fast it can get bad if THAT happens. Then there's the keeping track of who took what medicine when. And the sleeping situation. Because no one wants to be in their own bed when they are sick. And after a day like this, you really start feeling sick yourself and then the baby starts to cough and then you know.... it's bad. It has been one of those weekends and I hope it is over tommorrow.

Mute Button

I Love the pacifier. I admit it and I am not ashamed of it. I am fine that my babies use it to comfort themselves because I feel the benefits far out way the bad. I am fine when my babies turn one and they are still in love with the "paci" (as we have lovingly dubbed it around here). When my babies turn two, I talk to them about having the paci go bye-bye and when they strongly urge not to suggest that again in a very mature fashion (i.e.kicking and blood curdling screams), I must admit I secretly celebrate inside. Why? Because the pacifier is the best mute button a mother could have. I admit it. It is great in church. It's great at night time. It is great in the car. It is just a great little invention. Now eventually these little babies grow up and are ready to seperate themselves from their babyish crutches and face life head on, I am happy for them and ready to let go to. There are only a few times that I wish for it back. Well I am happy to say that for those times, I have invented a new form of mute button. Scotch tape. Not really my invention, I will admit, but it was Hailey's. She taped herself all up and then Jonas did it and then Caleb wanted them to do it to him and before I knew it, I had the quietest house I have had in a LOOOOONNNG time. And it was nice while it lasted.



P.S. This stunt was performed by trained perfessionals. Do not attempt at home.

Help! I Can't Swim!!!

Did you know that the opposite of fun is Laundry? It is a proven fact. Just do it every day for a year and you will be screaming, “Amen, sister!” to the afore mentioned statement. It is a long, no, never ending job. There is the sorting of clothes, the washing, the drying, the folding/sorting and then putting them away is their designated places. But there is more. Sometimes you have to… I don’t even like saying the word… iron. Eww. HATE THAT. That would probably be why there is always a pile of ironing for me to do. But laundry, I do that. EVERY DAY. And for some reason, maybe the fact that my family has the audacity to change their clothes daily, the pile of laundry is always there. I get “caught up” and turn around to a new filled basket. And it does not help that my children are under the impression that they are to wear three outfits a day. Morning/school clothes, afternoon clothes and pajamas. And somehow they manage to spill on each and every set of clothes they wear. I think it is to spite me. Perhaps they are angry with me and have decided the best way to get back at me is to go ahead a spill a little OJ on that shirt, or sit in some bubble gum. Or roll around in the mud for a couple of hours. If this assumption of mine is true, I have brilliant children who are succeeding in their goal of punishing their mother in the cruelest of ways: laundry drowning.

P.S. I Love You....

February 14, 2008

Hailey, you are beautiful, smart, and strong. Your beauty is in you. Always there in all you do. Your beauty is in your desire to do good and to help others. You are smart and quick and bright and sharp and you will always have those things with you. You are strong. Your will is steel. You are powerful beyond your understanding, more important than you could ever know. You are meant to lead and lift the saddend hearts in this world.

You are priceless.

Jonas, you are giving, and kind, and wise. You give your trust and loyalty and love away to anyone who crosses your path. You are considerate and kind and your goodness permeates everything you do. You are selfless, always thinking of others. your wisdom is powerful. You teach me and your dad everyday. You were born to help, to serve, and to change this world.

You are priceless.

Happy Valentines Day

Definition of Excess

February 13, 2008

A foot of snow? This is not my definition of fun on any level. Ever. You will never hear me say, "Oh, I love the snow." Because that would be a disgusting, offensive lie. I think snow belongs in the mountians where crazy people can put long sticks of wood on their feet and slide down it. It has no business on my roads or burying my car. And I wonder, why do people say it is beautiful? I mean, it is all one boring color anyway. Technically it is not even a color. Autumn. Now that is a season. Cool enough for sweaters, but warm enough for the kids to play outside. Beautiful variety of colors on the trees and in the mountains. Wonderful smells of rain and burning leaves. Your car is never buried. You never slide off the road in your car. You don't break your back shoveling. School is never cancelled. You won't suffer from frost bite. I have been wondering a lot the last couple of months what I am doing in Utah anyway? Arizona, now that seems like a nice place to live. Until July.

My trinket collection equivalent

FEBRUARY 12, 2008

I think now is as good a time as any for a little confession. I have a problem. And believe me, I know the shock of it is numbing your senses and making you feel light headed, but you are mostly likely sitting down, so a couple deep breaths should get you feeling much better. Better? Can we proceed? Okay, so here it is: when I am into something, I am REALLY into it. When I collect something I have to collect IT ALL. Let's take acrylic paint for example. I love it. And I really love it when I can get it in matching bottles. But my problem does not lie in matching, (well at least we can save that one for another day), but rather in the strong urge to get EVERY SINGLE COLOR they make. Because what if? What if I am painting a frame for a girl and I go to pull out the pink paint but the shades I have are Deep coral and Blush. And Blush is a baby kind of pink and clearly, Deep Coral is a tween kind of pink, But this frame is for a little girl, not a baby or a 12 year old. What I really need is lighter than Deep Coral but darker than Blush. I need something in between. What would I do? What, add white to the darker color, you say? I could do that but what if the exact color I am looking for (strawberries and cream), is already created and just there, in the craft store, waiting to be purchased for a dollar something? It is just there on the shelf collecting dust, when it could be in my home being used. So what if it could be sitting right in between the two other pinks looking so cute on my shelf? This whole [hypothetical] dilemma could just disappear. So there, do see why getting the entire collection is so important? Exactly. Come to think of it, maybe it isn't such a problem after all...

They come in all different shapes and sizes

We have had a bucket full of toy cars for almost eight years. And they have been so lonely for so long. Being the smart parents we are, Brian and I assumed all little boys love cars, so upon having boy #1, we went ahead and started the collection of what we assumed would be the inevitable mountain of Hot Wheels in our home. However, Boy #1 cared little else about anything besides animals. Oh, and by animals I mean, every animal ever created including dinosaurs. From the lovable Parasauralophus to the cuddly Narwhals all the way over to those fun loving Alpacas. So the animal bucket grew, while the car bucket sat in the corner collecting dust. It was pulled out occasionally when I would babysit another little car loving boy, but mostly it was just used as a jungle floor for the animals. And I am fairly certain the car bucket accepted it's fate. But then, almost 6 years later, came boy #2. We quickly discovered his interests were quite different from Boy#1. So we, again being the smart parents we are, decided to pull out the old car bucket. And they have not been separated ever since. It is the one bucket consistently opened and it's contents scattered around the house. Boy#2 loves to line them all up in a row and then make them drive erratically. His sound effects however, leave something to be desired. They don't sound so much like the VROOM of an engine, but more like horses. But hey, we take what we can get.

Growing at the speed of light

We carpool. Something I love and am very grateful for. So, there are mornings I have the luxury of staying inside the warm home and waiting for someone else (Shannon) to come and pick up our Little Big Man, Jonas. Our Little Man, Caleb loves to sit and wait with us. He loves to spot the car pulling up into the drive and scream, "There it is!!" in a language only his immediate family can decipher. He quickly sweeps the room for any items forgotten. Shoes: check. Jacket: check. Backpack: check. Kiss from the mom: check. Then our resident Little Man races to the door and NEEDS to be the one to open it. Then he ushers, with his hand, Little BIG Man out the door, all the while yelling quite enthusiastically, "Bye! Bye!" in the best grown up voice he can muster. This, bye the way, happens to be one of the few words that can be understood by outsiders. He stands there, and makes sure the car pulls safely away. Once the car is out of sight, he closes the door. And goes to balance our check book.

365 + 1

So I started a project at the beginning of this year. Another project. Totally and completely what I need in my life. But I missed writing. Not that it was a huge part of my life before, but I still missed it. And I like taking pictures. But I don't have a good camera. And I have needed something to convince my husband of this fact. So I considered all these things and came up with my 365+1 project. A photo a day; about the little things, with accompanied writing. And yes, I am really that out of reality that I actually believe I can keep up with this. But I have so far. Horray for me. So Brian suggested I document this on a blog. Why? I am not sure. Maybe he knows of my ability to drop things before they are finished? Or sometimes before I even start them? And perhaps he feels this will force me to keep up on it. Or maybe that is what I know to be true of myself. So You, the one person reading this right now... (hey Brian). You are responsible for pushing me to keep up on this. So there. Now you are in this with me. Aren't you Lucky?