Happy Birthday to You

My husband is turning 31 tomorrow. In honor of this momentous occasion, I have compiled another riveting list. 31 Facts about this 31 year old man.
1. He did not enjoy turning 30.
2. He used to dream of becoming the Man From Snowy River.
3. He doesn't share his toothbrush. Ever.
4. He once got in trouble with "the law" for playing catch with a watermelon in Smiths.
5. He has been a lead singer and guitarist for 5 bands.
6. One of them opened for the Plain White T's.
7. The way to his heart is with meat. Like a huge piece of rare steak.
8. He reads 10 books at the same time. None of them are ever fiction.
9. He was once drugged by a companion on his mission. (that's a great story.)
10. He is always setting goals and posting them by his bed.
11. He wants to have 5 children. (yes, I said FIVE!)
12. He cannot throw anything away. He might it someday. Even if its a lone sock with 5 holes. Cuz you just never know.
13. He cannot eat homemade goodies from someone he doesn't know or like. Those ward potlucks just freak him out.
14. Dreams in Spanish. Talks in his sleep in Spanish. Yes it's freaky.
15. He is addicted to Dr. Pepper. He is trying not to be.
16. He had his appendix out 6 days after we got home from his honeymoon.
17. The next year he had his gall bladder out.
18. The next year he had kidney stones. Then I said I would kill him myself if he got anything more serious. He listened to me, and has been healthy ever since.
19. He never eats breakfast.
20. He never returns clothes even if they don't fit. He takes the tag right off, wears it once and puts back into the abyss, I mean, closet.
21. He loves playing strategic board games until all hours of the night. (what a wild and crazy guy he is, right?)
22. He CANNOT resist his wife's sense of humor. ( I mean it is irresistible, is it not?)
23. He can talk anyone into giving him a back rub.
24. He loves mowing the lawn. He says it is therapeutic. I wish it was therapeutic for him to wash toilets, but alas...
25. He frequently sticks his foot in his mouth.
26. Turns the volume and heater/ac to even numbers. (which is contrary to my odd numbers; makes for a lovely little battle)
27. His favorite treat is a root beer freeze.
28. He hates things a la mode.
29. He really wants a dune buggy.
30. He cannot resist a sale at Kohls.
31. He has to have lots of ice in his water.

Tommorrow's post? More about the husband. Yes, it's my blog and I can do whatever I want, people. Including double husband posting.

(Breathe a huge sigh of relief here)

My friend Bri and I have been making all sorts of craftiness for years now. We have projects and mini albums for days that we have started but never finished. In fact, I think it would be safe to say we have never finished a project we have started for ourselves. But when someone comes along and hires us to do something for them, that gets finished. Go figure.


We have been making these custom wedding sign in albums for years now, and recently we were hired to make this really challenging album. I was really frustrated creatively for weeks, but last minute I think we had a spark of creativity and went running with it.
We finished it yesterday and the wedding is tomorrow. How's that for down to the wire? I like the way it turned out, and I did not think I would. The bride's colors were all different pinks, black, white and her theme is polks dots. I didn't know you were even supposed to have a theme. I guess that's why I let my mom handle my wedding decisions. I'm clueless.
Anyway, Bri and I have decided to go ahead and turn this into a full fledged business. But first thing we have to do is decide on a business name. I was thinking our initials, but seeing as BM wouldn't be all that appropriate, and our last name initials, BS, wouldn't either, that's kind of out the window. Any ideas?

our husband/father-less weekend

My hard working husband was out of town last minute this weekend. This was good news to my kids. And yes, they do love their dad and they miss him hysterically when he is gone (they call him about 10 times a day to provide proof of that fact). It's just that my kids know about something I inherited from my mother in law when I joined this family. It's a little syndrome we like to call, "When the Cat is away, the kittens play".
Okay, so I don't like to call it this partly because it sounds so cheesy, but mostly due to my disdain for cats.
But you get the point, right? My mother in law always partied with her kids when her husband was out of town and all the kids have such fond memories of those times, I decided to adopt this into my own little family.
And man, does it work!
We started off with a trip to Chuck E Cheese. All the games are one token there, which we loved. We also went right when it opened and were the only ones there pretty much the entire time. We did lunch at Arbys and giggled hysterically until too many people's heads turned our way. We rented movies, bought candy, and stayed up severely late. Then Saturday we slept in until 8:30! (this is like a record for my children) and we went to a birthday party.
Let me stop here and let you know this was no ordinary birthday party. This was thrown by the raining queens of party throwing, Marla and Heather. My kids look forward to their parties all year. They talk about them all year. They give play by plays of these parties to anyone willing to listen. In short, they will probably end up being the high light of their childhood. (thanks for stealing my thunder, Marla and Heather)
Okay, so the birthday party was fabulous as ever. We had to rent a U haul to carry home all the stuff they got. The whole drive home ( A very long 45 minutes), they would NOT stop talking about the party; The cake was soooo cool. The sprinkler ball was so cool. They had a pool with drinks in it! Did you see what I got in my bag?! (on and on and on for hours).
Saturday evening after showers and teeth brushing and all the Sunday preparations were made , we gathered in my bed and read stories and talked and giggled and laughed and quoted movies and laughed and did impressions and laughed until Jonas said he thought he would have a heart attack. And when I went to turn out the lights waaaaaay too late, Jonas, half asleep, said to me, "Mom? I think it has been a long 2 days. But they were really good long days."
And all I said was, "ditto."
But what I was thinking was, that being a mom to these kids just really rocks.

i heart blogging

I write this blog for me. It has given me something to do that doesn't involve ironing, scrubbing toilets, budgeting, diapers, vomit or other bodily fluids. It also doesn't give me the same sick feeling as I get when I am scrubbing poop out of the carpet. (and yes, that did in fact happen to me today.) Really, I think it makes me happy to write down little pieces of me and my life every day. It helps me keep in contact with friends, it has helped me make new friends.
It has also brought me to a few realizations.
#1: I tend to lean to sarcasm whenever possible.
#2: blogging gives you the chance to really know what it feels like to be a peeping tom; and a stalker.
#3: I am not as cool as I thought I was.
#4: somebody commenting on your post feels like getting an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle on Christmas morning.
So my point, is that I like this blog thing. I like it a lot more than I thought I would. I like it largely due to those of you who read it. So, thanks. Because you all have been on my mind lately, I decided to give each of you a little one liner over in my blog buddy list. And because I like y'all so much, you can let me know if you like your little tag line. If not, what do you think it should be? I am VERY open to suggestions. Also, if you are not listed on my VIP blog list, then you should come into the light and acknowledge your existence to me so that I may grace you with your very own VIP tag line. Wouldn't that just make you feel special?

How's your memory?

Memory Game
1. As a comment on my blog, leave one memory that you and I had together. It doesn't matter if you knew me a little or a lot, anything you remember!

2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's actually pretty funny to see the responses. If you leave a memory about me, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you.

borrowed time

I am not a fan of change. I get comfortable and I like to stay that way. I am the kind of person who takes the situation I am given and I adapt and make it work for me. Once I have done that, I don't feel like doing it all over again. So change is almost always hard for me.
Having said that, some changes are easy to make. Like getting a raise in salary, I would LOVE that change. I would welcome it in and kiss it all over. I would also love to wake up and leave half of my butt on the bed... I would gladly welcome that change too. But when it comes to my kids and them growing up, well, that change is a little more difficult.
This weekend we said good bye to Hailey's little girl pig tails:
and hello to her little woman hair cut:


I know on the surface it's just a hair cut. I know that if I was logical I would have seen it as just a haircut. But instead it was my baby girl suddenly loosing her chubby cheeks and legs and growing teeth, walking, talking, gaining her own opinions and gearing up for kindergarten all at once. It was my smack upside the head that this girl is here, given to me on loan and the time I have with her is so short; so precious and short.
And try as I might I can do nothing to slow it down.
It's that kind of change that really sucks.

Job Satisfaction II

Getting yourself ready for anything by nine a.m., can be difficult when you have kids. Getting yourself ready for church by nine a.m. can be difficult even when you don't have kids. But getting you and your children ready for church by nine a.m. is nearly impossible. But I do it. Every week with a few minutes to spare. (we gotta get there early to get the comfy pews, cause you know I am not sitting for an hour and 10 minutes on those hard chairs.) I have the kids clean and hair combed, their clothing ironed (ew i hate ironing.) . I have my lesson planned (cute hand out included). I have the kids bellies full and their bladders emptied and I even have the church bag stocked with paper and crayons and life savers. Whew, it is a lot of work and can be very exhausting. And I have never, nor do I ever expect to, receive a thank you from my children.

But, yesterday, my little official member of the church son, Jonas, came running out to the car waving a thank you note like a golden ticket. And it was for me. I was so touched. What a sweet boy. I was also thinking, here it is. My reward for getting them to church every single week. The cover was so cute, with a little hand drawn rose on it. I open the letter, fully expecting it to say something like:

Dear mom, I know and appreciate the sacrifice you make every week to have my clothes ironed (i know how much you hate the word) and to do all the little things so I can sit in sacrament reverently and feel of the spirit. Thank you for always working so hard to help us have the best possible church going experience. love, your sweet and thoughtful son, Jonas.

Instead, this is the note I received:



Doesn't that just make you feel all warm and fuzzy? What a sweet little child I have, don't I?

Iron jawed angels

I love being a woman. I love my role in life. I love the quiet strength that women have always had, to do what needs to be done in their lives. I love hearing stories of strong women. It inspires me. It makes me feel like I can handle whatever comes my way. I have said this before. So I guess that would explain why I have been called a feminist on occasion. I have always found that strange. I never understood why someone would view me that way. I mean, other than the fact that in high school, I walked around with a back pack that I had written on in large letters, "a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle" (I see how that could give someone the wrong idea, but that was just my silent opposition to the girls that always seemed to need a boyfriend to have fun in high school.)
Beyond my little back pack statements, I think feminism was not in my life. I really thought feminist had a bad connotation to it, like someone who is anti-man, or anti-family, or anti what I feel is my divine role and purpose. I have been secretly offended when someone has called me a feminist.
But recently I read about some historical "feminists" . The suffragists. A read up on Alice Paul and Lucy Burns, the two women mainly responsible for making it a constitutional right that I have a voice.
I read what they went thru to make it that I was born with equal rights: unconstitutional imprisonment, force feeding, and torture. I watched the movie iron jawed angels, and felt inspired by their ability to stay their course. I realized how much I take for granted living in the day and age I live in. I am a citizen of a free country that has listened to my voice since I was born. And in the past I have honored all the men that have fought and died to make this country free, I have never honored those women who fought to see that I have my civil liberties. I don't know why I never learned about this in history. I guess it's rather likely that I was absent that day. Actually it's more than likely.


I guess my point is that I think I would no longer offended if someone were to call me that. Because it means to me that I am a woman who is proud to be a woman. And that I believe that women are strong and powerful and good and kind and nurturing and giving.... and I believe that our voice matters.
So who wouldn't want to be a feminist?

Simply irresistable little wrinkly feet...




Completely loveable tiny boy hands....

added up with one adorable little man face and you come up with the latest little swanson family bundle of joy. George became official on Sunday morning. (all 8 pounds nine ounces of him). He had the cutest little everything. He is all boy. Laurie is doing well and so is this little man.

Many of you know my theory about how you can tell if you are ready to have another child. For those of you who don't my theory is if you go to a hospital to visit a mother and hold the little baby and you leave wishing you were her in that hospital bed, holding that wonderful smelling little baby, then you are ready! If you leave the room thinking about bleeding and ice gloves and stitches and sore breasts and bilirubin counts and no sleep.... then you are NOT ready.

In case you were wondering where I stood after visiting this little one, let me just say this: the thought of catheters and stitches were weighing heavily on my mind.

very artistic note to self

What I am Loving Right Now

We have survived the first month of summer. Thanks in large to the wonderful thing we like to call the backyard pool. This year even more so than in years past it has been a saving grace for my sanity and well being. It has been our daily and nightly gathering place. It has been our primary source of entertainment. Our get the wiggles out spot. Our exercise. It has been our time out after too much arguing. It has been our reward for working around the house. It has been our summer joy and this summer I have grown to love this pool with all my heart.
Having said that, I will never own a pool myself. Why? Waaaay too much work and stress and worry. The constant checking of water levels and chemical levels and vacuuming it out.... But what dislike the most about the pool is how i feel when people come over and swim. Not because I am selfish, no but thank you so much for assuming that. It's because I have a completely irrational fear of someone drowning on my watch. Even the 12 and 13 year old girls from church. I worry the most for our little monster, who has, in fact, come a little too close to drowning once this month. It was scary and horrible and everything I have feared all at once. He is fine, we are fine, but when that dang cover is off my anxiety is on high. But the pool is turning me and my kids into happier and darker versions of ourselves and we are enjoying the time we have left with the backyard pool.
So if you are calling me and I don't answer, if you are checking this blog and I am not posting, just know that I am temporarily unavailable. I am out back letting my blubbery self get some sun. Please, just take my word for it and don't come and see. Trust me, you wouldn't want to.